#look at him and his special little science ball

[six-demon-bag]

AKSEL HENNIE as SASHA VOLKOV THE CLOVERFIELD PARADOX (2018)

[bks-writing-adventures]

Little Dancer (Aemond Targaryen X Lannister! Reader)

Summary: A wholesome little journey between the first time Aemond met his wife to the birth of their children.

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, brief mentions of sex.

Aemond never thought he would be a father. He never even thought he would get married, until you came around at a ball. He forgot what it was, a name day of his nephews? Some celebration for his parents marriage? None of it mattered, because he sat still at his family table, watching the room dance and watching lords get drunk and stupid. And all of a sudden you had blocked his view, your hands on either side of his plate. 

“Do all Princes sit pouting at balls?” You asked. The question flustered him, his one eye meeting yours. It was like you were challenging him, and the thought made his heart spin in his chest. 

“Only when he has no one to dance with.” He answered. The words magically came to him, and he held his breath as he had waited for you to respond. 

“It is a good thing I am here then, is it not? Or would you rather sit here, eating scraps and wishing to be elsewhere?” You were so teasing- so confident, and before he knew it, his hand was wrapped around yours, and you were walking backward as you dragged him to the dancefloor. He did not have the time to be self conscious, and he could no longer let his eye wander as his hands landed on yours, spinning you, watching how your skirts swished and your hair got fluffy and frizzed. 

“So who are you, my little dancer?” He asked softly, holding you closer to him. You were warm, and he couldn’t tell what was making his heart pound. Your presence or the wine, or maybe an intoxicating blend of both.

 “(Y/N) Lannister,” You answered, licking your lips as the song ended. “If you wish to get to know me, we should move somewhere quieter,” You said gently, and he smiled as his eye wandered. 

“I know a place,” He said softly, his arm linked with yours as he carefully lead you out and into the gardens. It was quite the scandalous thing, he was well aware- but he didn’t care enough to stop. His brother was far from proper, he was a criminal and a disappointment. Speaking to a pretty girl in the garden would not be the worst crime. The garden hiccuped with the sounds of grasshoppers and frogs, and you smiled at the sound. 

“Do you know what that sound is?” You asked softly, and he gave you a curious look as you walked further into the great land of flowers. 

“Frogs,” He said simply, to which you nodded. 

“Mating frogs. Do you know how many eggs a frog can lay at once?” You asked.

 “Do you tell everyone your favorite amphibians facts, or am I special?” He smiled a little, trying not to let his interest show on his face. 

“There are facts much more interesting than that,” You answered, and for a few minutes, the two of you simply walked in the quiet. 

“How many eggs can a dragon lay?” You asked. 

“You take an interest in dragons, My Lady?” He asked in return, to which you nodded. He quietly sat on a bench, pulling you down to sit beside him. The moonlight did not do much to guide either of you, but he could make out the bridge of your nose and the slight shine of your eyes in the darkness. “Well, they can lay five, at most.” He responded, wondering if that would be enough for you.

 “Why is that? And what are they like?” You asked, resting your chin on your hand. You had always liked to learn about science, and this was your way in. Into the world of infinite books and knowledge. And he just had such a pretty face, which definitely helped the case. 

“The eggs? They’re hard and large and scaly,” He responded, reaching over to touch your hand. It was a daring move, but he wanted to feel you. In the darkness, touch the soft skin of your hand and wrist, and you didn’t move away.

 “Why is that? Are they not reptiles?” You asked quietly, and he had to lean closer to hear you.

 “Dragons cannot be put into a box, My Lady. They are everything and nothing. No mortal could ever learn to understand them,” He murmured, gently guiding your hand to his mouth so he could kiss it. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that attracted him so. You were just so unconventional, untrained. It was fascinating. 

“Not even Targaryens?” You asked softly as his breath tickled your fingers.

 “Certainly not. We only shout commands and hope they listen,” He chuckled softly. He was about to speak again when a loud shout suddenly broke the walls of intimacy around them. For the love of Gods, this did not look good. He wasn’t sure if he pushed your hand away, or if you pulled it back, but all contact was quickly broken as the two of you rushed to stand up. 

“Aemond, what is the meaning of this?” His mother sounded rather angry. She always was, whenever something like this happened. This was the worst possible time for her to wander over. 

“Mother, I was simply conversing with the Lady Lannister, and-” She cut him off, making his lips purse. 

“Without a chaperone, in the darkness, away from the sights of others? Do you understand how scandalous this is?” As you both shrunk under her lecture, neither of you argued back. And soon enough you and Aemond were sat before his mother and your own as they discussed. 

“We did nothing unholy. We were only speaking of the anatomy of dragons,” You frowned, to which your mother quickly shook her head.

 “Is that what they call it nowadays? This is out of control, and now your honor is ruined,” She huffed, and you stared down boredly at your hands. This is not how you thought your night would go, and the next sentence only made things more bizarre. 

“Her honor is not ruined, and I will ensure it. I intend to make (Y/N) my wife.” Aemond spoke, making your head quickly turn. All arguments died out like a flame without air, his eye soft and apologetic as he looked at you. But neither of you could claim to be mad about it. It was only the Gods’ odd way of making a match, and the next days were full of shy conversation and blushing cheeks, loomed over by your parents as they dissected every interaction.  

“I have a gift for you,” he said softly, pulling out a large book from his bag. It was bigger than your head, and the spine as so thick it could easily be mistaken for a brick. 

“Wow,” You mumbled, trying to read the front cover, but it is not in Common. Your eyes looked to his face, a curious look taking over your own.

 “It is in High Valyrian, its one of the oldest books in our library- well, not that one, that is a copy. The original would crumble like sand in your palms. But the language will be important for you to learn, I thought we could practice together,” He spoke, getting a little shy. It was a sweet sight, and you nodded as he explained. 

“Then you should allow me to teach you some Nyvia.” You responded. His brows scrunched a little. He had never heard of the language in his life.

 “And what is that?” He asked gently, intrigued. He didn’t realize you were bilingual, too.Your children would be an interesting batch. 

“My mothers first language. It is dying out, not many speak it anymore. Are you familiar with the island of Nyav?” You asked, and he nodded slowly. He had read about it in history books. It had been a brilliant place of beautiful plants and even more beautiful people. The stories said that it was lost to the sea, or to conquering, no one was sure. You were like a God of the old world, sitting right before him. 

“She lived there as a young girl, escaped before it disappeared, when she was betrothed to my father. I will admit that my own speaking is messy, but at least it is alive,” You spoke, slowly opening the book he had given you. You squinted a little. The letters were familiar, but the order was unlike anything you had ever seen. The longer he looked at you, the more questions formed in his head. 

“Do you think you have any Valyrian in you?” He asked. Nyvia had belonged to no one at all, no one knew where the people came from, only that they had not been there all along. Perhaps it had begun with Targaryen’s fleeing the Doom, or other Valyrians that escaped to the sea and washed upon its shores. 

“I do not think so. I do not look the part,” You reminded him, watching as his hand inched closer to yours, your fingertips brushing. It was perhaps the most touch you would be allowed until after you were married.

 “White hair does not make a Valyrian. It was only a thought,” He said, gently shrugging. His mind wandered to your children, the ones he would have with you. How many there would be. If they would have hair like yours, or hair like his own. How they would look on dragonback, and if you could all fly together as a family. Vhagar was more than big enough for two. You could hold his waist, and he would fly ahead of the children, and they would follow him like ducklings. Maybe you would have 12 children, one for every moon of the year. He cleared his throat as his mother called for him. Your meeting was done for the day. And when two more moons passed, it was finally your wedding day. Your dress clung to every part of your body, and your hair was covered with a heavy veil, beaded with pearls and gems big enough to pay off an entire house. 

The maids had tried to get you to agree to having pinned hair, or a more tradition style, but you declined. You never liked having too much on you, weighing you down. The air was stuffy with the breath of hundreds, and you tried not to look at the crowd as Aemond stood before you. “Kessa sagon sȳz.  Laesi va nyke.” He murmured softly, and you nodded as your eyes studied his face. He was wearing his fanciest eyepatch. You wondered how many were in his collection, and if you would ever see him without it. If he slept with it on. As you both repeated the words of the Septon, and it came time for the kiss- you stared at each other for a long, awkward few seconds, trying to figure out which one of you would lean in first. You may have been brave enough to approach him that first night, when he was just a sulking stranger. But now things were so much bigger. You had an audience. 

Finally, once he accepted you would not be the one to do it, he leaned down to press a brief, awkward kiss on your mouth, and you both parted with small, sheepish smiles. Once you were at your table, you both let out deep breaths from your lungs, and finally,you could curl up together, your arms looped around his as you giggled into his sleeve. “That was unbearable,” Your words were light, but the hit was strong, and he chuckled awkwardly. He had hoped the kiss was not that bad. But he felt a wave of uncertainty rushing into him. The first kiss was supposed to be magical, like you were bathing in fire and pureness and all that was good. But it felt like a child smushing two dolls together. 

He only hoped that with time, things would get better. And oh, how they certainly did. The bedchamber was full of soft sounds, and for every moan came ten laughs and raised brows. “Mm.. you sound like you are being murdered,” He murmured into your shoulder, and you smiled as you squeeze his hand. 

“And you sound like you’ve run 30 miles,” You responded as he panted onto your skin. 

“Oh, hush,” He smiled, gently biting your neck. 

“Little vampire,” You mumbled before he gently guided your face down to a pillow. He did not expect anything to come of your night of teasing and touch, but when six weeks had passed, he woke in the morning to you squirming from his arms. 

“It is too early for you to wake.” He grumbled. He had been an early bird before your marriage, before he was up into the early hours of dawn inside you, kissing you, teaching you High Valyrian as you tried to teach him Nyvia. 

“Yoane,” He spoke, and you shook your head. 

“Yo-awn-ee.” You repeated, and he tried once more.

 “Yoane,” He nodded, and you groaned into your hands.You were trying to teach him the words for love, your face pink with laughter. But as you rushed to the bathroom, your face took on an almost gray hue, and he found himself holding your hair in a big bundle as you spittled into the chamberpot, your belly soft and your nose sensitive. You were with child, or perhaps three or four, for when you reached your second trimester, you were a giant.

 “Mmm… you are like a dragon,” He mumbled as he kissed upon your stretched skin. 

“How so?” You asked softly, caressing his hair as his cheek pressed onto your belly. 

“You are going to lay a whole clutch. You must have three or four in here,” He marveled at the size of you, and you rolled your eyes.

 “I am telling your mother that you said that,” You responded, making his brows scrunch together.

 “You would not dare.” In the months of your marriage, Queen Alicent had grown quite attached to you. While she loved her son, she had always found him to be rather an intense man. She wasn’t afraid of him, no, but she never thought he would find marriage. Find joy. She thought he would grow old and become a knight or a philosopher, and she was quite pleased with you for bringing out these new parts of him. And so, if she learned of his comments of your size, she would beat him messy with a sock. When you were finally about to burst at the seams, you learned that there were things far more stressful than a wedding day. It was like everyone wanted to see your baby plop out, Alicent walking the room as they propped your legs off. 

“Would you mind leaving the room? This is a rather private matter,” Aemond spoke to his mother in a hushed voice, to which she gently shook her head.

 “And I am to be the grandmother of this child. I am close family, am I not? This is a huge deal for you, my youngest son having his first child!!” She gushed, and you shifted uncomfortably.

 “It may be hours before the baby arrives,” You groaned quietly, pushing the small wooden tools away from your legs. “I do not wish for too many to see my blood and my mess,” Your eyes held a certain fire, and your jaw clenched, and slowly her face filled with an understanding, nodding slowly. You were no Rhaenyra, and you were no enemy. You were her daughter in law, the wife of her youngest son. And so quietly, she left the room, leaving you to the midwives, the maesters, and your husband.

 “Perhaps you would like to leave, My Prince. It is not necessary for the husband to stay,” One of the Maesters spoke, to which you quickly shouted. 

“If you leave me I will ensure that you never get to hold the baby.” You said quickly. 

“I would not dream of it, my dearest,” He responded, coming closer so you could hold his hand. Several hours passed of loud noises and angry shouts, little crescent moons cut into his hand from your grasp. Child after child escaped your womb, until a whole batch of seven was swaddled. The midwives had to call for backup to tend to all the children, each of them around five pounds. It was a concerning miracle, and Aemond’s eye widened as he stared at all the squirming infants.

 “By the seven..” He murmured, quite literally. A child for every god. What a miracle it was. His heart fluttered with fear as he reached out to one of the infants, the only girl, her hand slowly curling around his finger. It was beautiful and scary all at once, like a comet scratching the sky. It was all so very real all of a sudden, his breath catching in his throat as his eye watered.

 “Are they all healthy?” You asked softly, sitting up slowly, your hands curling up. “Yes,” One of your handmaids quickly told you. 

“Small but mighty, they are all warm and crying,” She spoke, wiping sweat from your face. You smiled, taking a deep breath, your eyes slightly puffy as two of the babies were placed on your chest. Two of the boys, one with hair like your own, and the other with a head of snow, little curls still damp from birth. “Look at his little swirly wirlies.” You mumbled, and Aemond chuckled as he leaned over, two of the babies in his own arms. One with gingery Hightower hair, the other with hair like his own. What the litter you had. “How many girls?” You asked softly, reaching to gently take the blankets off, but Aemond answered you before you had to use your energy. 

“Just the one,” He said softly, placing her on your belly. The two of you laid in the bed for hours, covered in babies on every limb and surface. It was a mess, a loud swarm of little coos and crying. But neither of you had ever been happier. Aemond never thought he’d be a good father, but he sure could do his best.

Thank you to everyone who reads!! Feel free to send in requests :)

-BK ♡

[dexteri0us]

you could be the one that could mess me up; you could be the one that'll break me down

pairing: dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: fluff, college!au, summer camp!au, rivalry

summary: what’s tougher: coaching science-crazed kids or competing with Dexter for the camp championship?

w/c: like 3k

a/n: a little something for my fellow Dexter fans

The sun was beating down on the field, and you were already starting to regret not grabbing your water bottle. Your team of elementary schoolers was bouncing around you like they’d been given espresso shots instead of juice boxes, their energy sky-high for the last day of camp. And who could blame them? Today was the big showdown – the ultimate battle between Team A and Team B. Your team, obviously, was Team A which, you reminded them every chance you got, was the first letter of the alphabet for a reason.

You scanned the field, making sure everyone had their places, when you saw a stray kickball, sitting just past the starting line. You sighed. As much as you loved your kids, “picking up after themselves” was an elusive skill for most of them. You told them to hold tight for a second and jogged over to retrieve it.

Just as you were about to grab the ball, you saw Dexter walking up beside you, giving you that unreadable look, as usual. You smirked before he even had a chance to speak.

“Well, if it isn’t the illustrious Team B leader himself,” you said, bending down to pick up the ball. “Here to observe greatness in action?” you asked with a proud smile on your face.

Dexter didn’t miss a beat, casually handing you a bottle of water and raising an eyebrow. “Greatness? I think you’re setting them up for disappointment.”

“Oh, really?” you grinned, turning to face him as you spun the ball between your pointer fingers before resting it on your hip and taking the water. “Coming from the guy whose team spent ten minutes building an egg drop contraption that looked like a rejected spaceship model?”

Dexter’s face didn’t change, but you could see the spark of amusement in his eyes. He took the smallest step forward, as if to intimidate you. “That ‘rejected spaceship model’ actually worked, if you remember correctly,” he replied smoothly. “Unlike some teams’ eggs, which ended up looking like scrambled breakfast.”

He was right, of course. His egg drop design looked like it had come from an old sci-fi movie, a quirky contraption with beams, paddings, and an absurd amount of plastic wrap. You had no idea where he got all that, either way, it worked.

It wasn’t even surprising; Dexter had always taken unexpected routes to solve problems. His mind just worked differently. You knew he had a wild imagination; you could tell when he’d shown you some of his high school lab projects, each one stranger and more intricate than the last, and always with that unmistakable Dexter touch that landed him at the top of the class every time. Even now in college, he was still securing the highest grades, beating out students who had twice the resources and flashy internships.

Honestly, Dexter was probably the smartest person you knew, and being able to go toe-to-toe with him here at camp wasn’t just a thrill – it was an honor.

It was part of what made this science camp so special. It wasn’t just some neighborhood summer program; it was hosted by your college’s STEM department, high-level experience for kids that were intrigued by the world of science. Or even those who were just curious about the basic laws of nature ruling our world. The camp was selective about who it chose to lead, and the program heads always made sure to match top students with the best opportunities.

You knew Dexter had signed up for the challenge partly because he’d mentioned wanting to “quit an old habit” and keep himself busy during summer. He hadn’t told you much beyond that – just something vague about needing to break a pattern, occupy his time in a way that felt constructive. This camp, with its structure, routine and purpose was a way for him to do that.

And then, there was the way he was around kids. Despite his reserved nature, he seemed at ease with them, almost unguarded. Dexter seemed different, and only a few people got to experience this side of him. He once joked to you that kids’ brains were underdeveloped enough that he didn’t have to fake emotions or second-guess his reactions around them.

But right now, there was a different Dexter in front of you – not a soft Dexter, not a reserved Dexter. There was a smirking, overly confident camp leader Dexter who thought he could take you down. You hated that he felt comfortable enough to be this cocky towards you. So no, you weren’t about to let your admiration show. You'd have enough time to let yourself sneak a few appreciative glances at him when he wasn’t looking, but right here, with the competition about to continue? You weren’t going to let him talk you down.

You stepped closer too, having to crane your neck a little to keep eye contact. “Don’t worry. My team and I have an actual strategy. Not just a bunch of science facts thrown together like a five-paragraph essay.”

He snorted, his eyebrows rising. “It’s a science camp. Facts are kind of the point. Your strategy is taking the name Team A and thinking that it will actually secure you the first place.”

You scoffed and turned around, walking towards your team and Dexter was quick to follow you.

 “First letter, first place. It’s called manifestation. It’s like destiny. We’re literally setting ourselves up for success from the start.”

He shook his head with a little laugh. “You realize it’s just a letter, right? It doesn’t have, like, mystical powers or anything.”

You couldn’t help but cackle, his words making you stop again and some of the smaller heads turn in your direction, silently watching the respected leaders of the science camp bicker. He was unbelievable.

“Please, you’re just pissed that I called it first.”

Despite Dexter being stoic and unpopular among his peers, he was good with kids, and you were aware of that. He was a lab geek to everyone, even his fellow students who majored in science too -- everyone was supposed to be a lab geek! - But most didn’t know that he was actually very creative. You knew that and this was just bitterness talking.

“It’s the first thing people see, the first letter people think of. It exudes victory. Doesn’t Team B just sound… second-rate by comparison?”

He gave you a deadpan look, which only made you want to argue for your team more.

“Team B,” he said, with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression, “actually stands for best. Maybe even better. I wouldn’t be so quick to assume we’re coming in second.”

You shook your head and bit your cheek, contemplating your next words. You brought the ball that was on your hip to his chest, slightly pushing him with it, but he didn’t budge. He just took it as he waited for your next remark.

“My Team A kids are about to wipe the floor with your Team Better.”

He chuckled and threw the ball into the air before catching it. “We’ll see about that,” he said, eyes glinting with that calm confidence that always got under your skin.

You turned to your group again, arms stretched for emphasis. “See? He’s already trying to play mind games because he knows Team A is unstoppable!”

The kids cheered, and you looked back at Dexter, who was fighting a grin.

“Careful,” he said, “I’d hate to see you go down after all that talk.”

You leaned closer, and you saw his eyelids flutter, finally a sign of weakness.

“And I’d hate to see you hand over those first-place prizes with that smug look wiped off your face.”

You found yourselves in a silent, smirking standoff. His lips curved ever so slightly, daring you to say something more. The corners of your mouth tugged upward in response. You weren't backing down, and neither was he, testing each other, seeing who would blink first. You let your eyes drop just briefly, enough to catch the flutter of his lashes, but a voice from behind cut through the haze, breaking the moment like a splash of cold water.

“You’re going down, Mr. Dexter!”

You both turned toward your team, seeing one of the more spirited girls in your group, Sarah, giving Dexter a withering stare.

You crossed your arms, looking at Dexter. “See? You’ve gotta inspire these kids, Dexter. Get them excited! Pumped!” you slapped his triceps as if to emphasize your point, and he side-eyed you. “No wonder Team B’s lagging behind,” you switched your expression to an exaggerated pity, sighing and shaking your head.

“Alright,” he murmured, your trash talking finally getting to him. “I gotta go. I have to tell my team about Team A’s lack of structural integrity and how we’re going to crush them in the obstacle course.”

You gave him a taunting smile, before he walked away.

“And thanks for the water!” you lifted the bottle in the air and he turned, nodding at you with a genuine smile. Before he headed to his kids, he made a stop where your team was hanging. Despite him being the leader of the opposing team, instead of being intimidated or intimidating, the kids smiled at him, some of them running up to him and showing him a bug they just found in the grass.

You watched him stop right in front of Sarah, crouching down to her eye level with an inquisitive look. “Did I just hear you say I’m going down?”

She shifted her feet, but held her ground, her cheeks red. Kind of like you when you first met him. “Well…yeah!” she crossed her arms, mustering her bravest face. Honestly, you couldn’t be prouder. “We’re Team A, so we’re winning this competition – duh! Plus, we have Ms. YN, and you don’t!”

“Point taken, Sarah,” he said with a chuckle. “I think you’re ready to start a motivational business someday.” The kids giggled, including Sarah who had a proud smile on her face. Dexter raised his eyebrows expectantly, offering his hand to Sarah. “May the best team win, then.”

She shook his hand and with one last look to you, he left. You made your way to your team and gave Sarah and some other kids high-five.

“Did you see his face, Ms. YN? He knows we’re gonna win!”

You laughed, nodding. “Oh, he definitely knows. Let’s make sure he remembers it.”

You sat in your chair and watched your kids, dressed in their teams’ tie-dyed orange t-shirts as some of them were clutching their juice boxes trying the slurp up the last drop, some were still playing with their DIY space shuttles from the NASA day, and some were playing tag or patty cake with each other.

It had been a great few weeks and you couldn't believe the camp was almost over. It was always hard for you to say goodbye. Some of the kids came back every year and you were happy to see their faces. Of course, there is a few bad eggs, but the overall experience was always amazing. And even though it might have not seemed that way, you enjoyed sharing that experience with Dexter, who was one of the smartest people you knew.

You turned around, looking in the direction of his team, watching him sitting on the ground, stealing Franklin’s hat, exposing the boy’s ruffled hair as Dexter put it on his own head, the hat obviously too small for him. Franklin tried to get it back, reaching for it, but Dexter quickly snatched it away and held it out of his reach, making the boy crawl over him as he laughed hysterically.

Your heart fluttered at the sight, but you shook it off, turning back to your team and making a regular head count.

The rest of the afternoon flew by as the competition heated up. Your team was cheering like maniacs after each round, pumping each other up with a team spirit that only a summer camp could create.

Next up was a chemistry challenge, where each team had to mix different chemicals to create a specific color in their beakers. Your team surged ahead, mixing the combination quickly, while Dexter’s team carefully measured out each drop.

“Come on, Team A! Don’t let Team B show us up!” you encouraged, but your team’s rush and Dexter’s team’s focus worked in his favor, adding a few point to his part of the scoreboard.

As the afternoon wore on, the two groups moved from one challenge to the next, each victory and loss met with cheers and groans. Finally, the last event arrived: the biology obstacle course. The campers were buzzing with excitement, and you could barely contain your grin as you glanced across the field at Dexter. The score was pretty much tied, and it all came down to this.

“Alright, A’s,” you said, crouching down to your group’s level. “This is it. Remember to have fun, and let’s give it everything we’ve got.”

The obstacle course was a test of agility and knowledge. Each camper had to climb through a “jungle” of hanging ropes, identify plastic animal replicas hidden among the trees, and finish by sprinting to the finish line with a “baby bird” (a rubber ball) in a spoon.

Your team went first, charging through the course with surprising speed. Dexter was impressed but kept his expression neutral. His campers were determined to outdo them, each one putting in their best effort as they charged through the course, cheered on by Dexter’s calm, steady encouragement.

When the final camper crossed the finish line, you and Dexter called your teams together to tally up the points. The competition had been so close that neither group was sure who had won.

“Alright,” Dexter said, reading off the scorecard. “And the winner is…” he paused, dramatically prolonging the suspense, while you shot him an exaggerated look of impatience.

“Team A!” he announced, unable to keep from smiling as your team erupted in cheers. He felt bad for his team, but a flicker of pride rose in his chest as he watched you celebrate with your kids, hugging a few of the campers. You shot Dexter a smug, triumphant look, mouthing “I told you so.”

The losing team received consolation prizes – a handful of science-themed chocolate bars and some novelty key chains shaped like tiny beakers and DNA strands. The kids took it all in stride, laughing and goofing off as they filed back to their cabins, waving at you and Dexter as they disappeared down the paths.

You and Dexter began gathering up the supplies left over from the relay race. Every so often, you’d bump shoulders or catch each other’s eyes and share a smile.

As the last of the campers drifted out of view, you took a long breath, letting it out slowly as the day’s exhaustion sank into your muscles. You stretched your arms overhead, feeling that familiar soreness, and smiled as you glanced over at him.

“Guess that makes me the science camp champion, huh?”

Dexter chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “For this year, maybe. Next year, though, don’t get too comfortable.”

You laughed, feeling a spark of joy as you realized, yes, you would look forward to next year – another summer with him, another chance to see this side of him. You were alone by now, perched on the steps of the main cabin where the camp leaders, cooks, and cleaners stayed during camp sessions. You leaned back, savoring the quiet, the fading light of the day casting a soft glow over the campgrounds.

Dexter sat down beside you, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazed out at the now-quiet field, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. After a moment, you scooted closer, letting your chin dig into his shoulder. Gently, you threaded your arm through his, reaching for his hand and giving it a small squeeze. He looked down, his expression softening as he turned to you, and suddenly you were so close your noses were almost touching, the fading sunlight casting shadows over his features and catching on the ginger stubble along his jawline.

“Same time, same place?” you murmured, your voice low and quiet.

Dexter didn’t answer – not with words, anyway. Instead, he lifted a hand to brush away the baby hair from your forehead before closing the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

You always made his heart beat so fast, he didn’t know how it hadn't burst already. You were one of two things that made him feel this way and it was a perfect balance of light and darkness.

His stubble scratched lightly against your skin, a slight irritation that you secretly loved. It made you smile against his lips, feeling a familiar thrill rush through you.

You remember teasing him about it early on in your relationship, only for him to take it too literally and show up the next day, clean-shaven. You’d laughed, explaining that it was just a joke, and that you loved his rough edges. It made you love him more, it was just so Dexter.

Since then, he’d kept his natural look, but sometimes, you’d see that flicker of hesitation, trying to understand the meaning behind your words and actions. It reminded you how hard he tried to learn the language of affection, your love language, and you tried to learn and understand his. It put you into perfect synchrony.

He leaned into the kiss with more force before pulling away and letting his forehead rest against yours, noses brushing as he lingered there, his hand still holding yours as you drew circles on his skin with your thumb.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, his usual calm and stoic replaced by a rare warmth as he looked at you.

You smiled and kissed his shoulder before resting your head against it, letting your eyes close for just a moment.

“It’s so quiet.” you sighed, enjoying the peaceful moment. That’s something you'd missed. Even though you loved the camp, you weren't really a fan of chaos, and this? Having the moment to breathe in the warm scent of pine trees, to hear the birds singing and crickets chirping and to be in Dexter’s embrace is like a reward.

“Funny you’d say that, considering how much noise you make.” He glanced down at you, raising his eyebrows. “Half the chaos around here has been you cheering your team to victory.”

You scoffed, too tired to put up a fight this time. “I’m just an enthusiastic leader.”

“Oh, I know,” he said, a hint of smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re definitely enthusiastic. I’m pretty sure you broke the sound barrier.”

You poked him in the ribs, and he genuinely laughed. A sound that you appreciated greatly, because you were one of the few people that got to hear it. As his laughter faded, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly to the crown of your head.

You watched the sun dip lower, your heart full as you let yourself drift into the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing.

a/n2: thanks for making it this far! soo, what do we think? i'll appreciate any kind of feedback! also, i'd love to explore this relationship more, so maybe we'll see these two again!

[mushroommanstan]

Mommy’s milkshake

College au tenko x reader

Warnings: mommy kink, duh, exhibitionism, dubcon kinda, cum in food

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey… p-pst, stop it! I mean it… s-stohaaah, stop iiit.” Tenko whispered desperately, his thighs quaking as you thumbed his slit. You didn’t listen though, no, you just kept driving him crazy while wearing that devious, grinch-like smirk that made him shudder.

You might be asking yourself: what’s going on? Why did Tenko of all people want you to stop playing with his dick? Well, it all started like maybe ten minutes before this, when you and him were walking past the entrance of the cafeteria on your way to the local game store.

You had insisted the both of you get snacks first, craving one of the chocolate milkshakes that were so heavily advertised around campus, to which he agreed mumbling about getting a panini or something.

You got your shake and joined him at the table he found. It wasn’t hard to find him, he was always given a generous amount of elbow room from his frightened peers. Immediately when you took your first sip, you realized something was off. It was just… bland. I mean, yeah, it was sweet but… that’s it. Where’s the bitter in of the chocolate? Where’s the salty of the… I don’t know, salt? It just-it should have more to it than just… sweet.

You scrunched your eyebrows in disgust, which Tenko noticed almost immediately. He took another bite of his sandwich before softly asking “was wong? Don’ like id?”

You could just barely make out what he was saying with the full mouth he had. You shrugged. “Eh.. it’s fine…”

You swirled the straw around in your drink, watching as the dark chocolate lines swirled and swirls until they faded beyond distinction and you were left with a tan brown surface. Then you took the straw out, watching as the blob of ice cream still one it started to sag in the open air, before placing the tip of your straw on your tongue and letting it fall into your awaiting mouth.

Tenko shifted uncomfortably, and seeing the movement in the corner of your eye you turned slightly to look at him, only to see a familiar blush adorning his features. You smirked, wrapping your tongue around the plastic tube then putting in your mouth and swirling it about. He whimpered. It was quiet, deadly quiet, and if you hadn’t been concentrating you would have missed it. But he whimpered.

You smirked, looking down at his lap and seeing what you had suspected. Full mast, just like that. You almost chuckled at the sight, heh, that Tenko and his libido. If you and him were the last ones on the planet he’d have the strength to repopulate the whole world single handedly you suspect. The amount of eager cum in his balls on a daily basis was a marvel of science. Which… gave you an idea actually.

With shaking hands, he returned to his sandwich, expecting that to be the end of it. So color him surprised when he felt a familiar hand groping his bulge. You wrapped your fingers around his bulge and stroked him from base to peak like a scammy claw machine continuously failing to pluck a toy from the mass. Or maybe like an octopus expanding and condensing at it swims. No, no the claw machine was a much better analogy. MOVING ON:

He nearly choked as you caressed his bulge, and his eyes darted around anxiously before settling at you, giving a pleading expression as if this wasn’t what he wanted. Silly boy, you can hear his panting and see his trembling from here. That, and he knew he could just say the safe word. But he wasn’t, was he?

You leaned over to his ear and whispered “Mommy’s milkshake is dreadfully bland. What say you help me give it some of your special flavor, hm? Be a good boy for mommy and I might just reward you tonight. Maybe I’ll use some of my special toys ‘n fill your cute little slutty hole to the brim~.”

His hips jumped at the thought and you chuckled softly. You licked the shell of his ear, making him shudder, before you continued. As you spoke, your fingers became harsher and harsher, now whole handedly squeezing his package and massaging it as he tries his hardest to hold in moans.

He shook his head rapidly, his pitch black curls slapping against his temples as he tried his darnedest to resist your temptations. “N-no!” He whisper yelled in between quiet moans. “No so-aah~someone wi-will, hah, see-mmn.”

Your hand stopped and he was ashamed how much he missed your movements despite his protests. “Is my Tenko seriously telling mommy no? That’s not good boy behavior. No, that’s not good boy behavior at all. Does mommy really have to punish you so soon?”

He shook his head, biting his lip tightly as you gave him slow, hard presses with your palm. “N-no mommy.” He whispered back. “I’m y-you’re good boy, I promise.” He gasped as your hand sped up again, now reaching for his zipper.

“Good.” You said. Then you were kissing his neck again, watching as his face got redder and redder, sweatier and sweatier. You leaned back to enjoy the sight of him, your little whore trying desperately not to cause a scene, before you leaned back in for one last comment as you reached down his pants, finally pulling his member out.

“Besides. Even if someone did see you, would that really be such a bad thing? Being known as the guy with a “not giving a fuck” attitude who gets jerked off in public by his super hot girlfriend? Doesn’t sound so bad to me. Cmon, let me be your trophy wife for you.”

He shuddered. Admittedly, when you put it that way, it does sound appealing. Lord knows his reputation is in the crapper as it is, so anything helps.

You were now properly pumping him, your hand going up and down his admittedly long shaft in practiced rhythm. He was oozing pre at this point, making good lube, and the wet slaps that followed were just barely overshadowed by the chitter chatter around you. Every downstroke you were graced with the feeling of his long, wiry pubic hairs tickling your pinky, a welcomed feeling that no doubt would unfortunately make your hand smell musky for the rest of the day.

His hand rose to his mouth, and he began biting his knuckle in the hopes of muffling himself while sinking lower and lower in his crappy plastic chair. You could tell he was getting close, so with one hand you popped the lid off your milkshake and snuck it under the table. His tip hit the rim, a little bit of the cold residue stuck to it making him hiss. But the feeling was soon forgotten as you sped up, licking your lips as you nearly drooled in thirst, thirst for his cum.

“Cmon baby. Cum for me. Cum for mommy.” You once again whispered, and he whined out slightly louder than before, eyebrows curved upwards in a pleading expression as his eyes fluttered shut. His hips were rising slightly, and you knew it was only just a moment till-

“N-nyaahah!”

A hot, thick rope of cum shot out of him, landing on your fingers and making you tsk. Your hand slowed to a more gentle pace as you milked him into your cup, whispering praises in his ear as he trembled. Like usual, there was a lot, and you felt as maybe 3 or 4 good ropes hit the walls of the cup before dribbling down into the brownish cream. When he was finished, you tucked his wang back in his boxers and even zipped his pants back up for him, smoothing out the wrinkles and leaving it looking like it hadn’t been disturbed.

He was a panting mess, hand dropping from his mouth limply and sweat dripping from his forehead. You, on the other hand, remained casual, popping the lid back on your drink then clicking your tongue at the mess made on your knuckles.

Noticing your dilemma, a peer of yours stopped in his tracks as he walked by, offering you a slightly crumbled napkin to help clean up what he assumed was spilled ice cream. “Here sweetheart.”

Agitated by the pet name, Tenko regained full consciousness, about to show this guy a lesson despite his boneless state before you stopped him, declining and instead opting to lick it off. You turned slightly to Tenko, making eye contact as your tongue followed the white trail on your finger, collecting it and bringing it to your mouth. He inhaled sharply, forgetting everything else as the random guy looked at you both confusedly, but in the end didn’t care and just walked off.

With your hand clean and your shake improved, you took a big sip and smiled at the new flavors. Sweet and salty, a little sour, a little bitter, and the nice musky flavor of him. Perfect.

It’s so good that, well, maybe you’ll have to do this again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tada! I did a fic! Yay…..

Idk why but lately my motivation has been poopy, so I’m sorry about that. But I hope y’all liked this. Sorry if I made this a little more “mommy” than usual hehe.

[istanmyman]

Teacher AU Ghost/Soap

Soap who is teaching science classes. He especially likes to teach the practical lessons where he gets to teach the kids how to cause harmless chemical reactions.

Ghost who became a PE teacher who also teaches extra classes on the side to struggling students and falls in for unavailable teachers. 

I imagine in this AU that Soap is the fun teacher who is really excited with his explanations and makes a big show out of showing his class experiments. The kids love him for this. 

Ghost is the chill but no bullshit teacher. He’ll support kids that are scared to try something challenging in his PE classes and will tell them they did a good job if it works out. 

He’s all for gentle but firm encouragement, but will also make you run laps or clean up the entire gym after class if you don’t behave. 

He’s a bit of a show off when it comes to teaching. He will throw an insane ball or do a challenging move then ask casually, “Who wants to learn this first?”

In my AU Simon starts to teach at the school before John joins the team. He didn’t particularly care about the new addition to their team, at least at first. 

John was just a new colleague like any other, until he heard the kids talking among themselves. They praise Mr. Mactavish wherever they go, excited for his lessons and loving his way of teaching. 

Simon hears about how patient and kind he is with his classes, how hard he works to keep learning fun and exciting. After hearing about the man so many times, he can’t help but be intrigued. 

It wasn’t intentional, but Simon keeps out an extra eye and listening ear for the man. He gets curiouser by the day as he watches and listens to the man's work each time he walks by John’s classroom.

One time after Simon is done teaching an extra class, he walks down the halls, ready to go home. That is until he walks past his new colleague’s science classroom. 

The man is still busy, much to Simon’s surprise. Normally he doesn’t involve himself in other teachers' business, but his curiosity as of late seems to catch up on him, when he sees John moving things around. 

Simon takes a step inside the classroom, knocking on the open door. “Mactavish?” The younger man whips his head around and upon seeing the PE teacher, he smiles. “Simon, to what do I owe this visit? I thought your classes ended a while ago.”

“Extra classes got moved to today.” Simon simply explains and John answers with a soundless “Ah.” John is in the meantime still busy with moving boxed chemicals and tubes around. 

“What are you doing?” Simon asks and John gets that excited gleam into his eyes. “Well,” He starts upbeat. “I am preparing a special class for my students for tomorrow.

I know the next chapter is usually one of the more difficult ones so I thought showing them an example of the subject we’re discussing might make it easier to understand.”

Simon hums in understanding. “I hear you do that a lot.” “Do what?” John asks. “Use examples.” Simon elaborates. “The kids can’t shut up about your lessons. They seem to appreciate the visual aid.”

John seems to outright beam at that. The pure excitement he feels about his lessons makes him look like an excited kid himself. Simon thinks the youthful energy John has is exactly what the kids need while learning such a difficult subject. 

“I’m glad they do. I like teaching them. They’re good kids.” John says with a fondness that surprises Simon. In all his years of teaching, he’s never seen anyone so invested in their job before. 

John seems to truly enjoy his career choice and he’s great at it by the looks of it. all the kids seem to truly understand what John is trying to teach. It’s an achievement that Simon can admire about the man. 

“You’re a good teacher.” Simon says before he can stop himself. John’s eyes widen a little from Simon’s honest words. He laughs a little, seemingly feeling a bit flustered from the compliment. 

Simon needs to suppress an amused smile of his own because of it. “I certainly try to be.” John answers heartfelt, smiling with a hint of red on his dusted cheeks. “Thank you, Simon.” 

Simon feels himself fluster a bit, heat running up the back of his neck. He clears his throat. “Just telling the truth.” Simon adds, trying to seem casual like always. 

He could go now, but he doesn’t particularly feel like leaving yet. “Need-...need any help?” He offers, breaking the short, awkward silence after a short moment. 

John shakes his head a little, seeming to have been lost in thought himself. “Yeah! Yeah, sure. Help would be great.” John says, quickly turning around and picking up a box, placing it in Simon’s hands. 

“Could you place one of each on the students' tables?” John already turns around before Simon can say ‘sure’. The both of them prepare the classroom for the next day. It isn’t much work since John had done most of the prep before Simon found him. 

When they’re done with putting away the empty boxes and storing the prepared chemicals, John speaks up. “Seems like that was everything.”

“You do this every day?” Simon asks and John shakes his head as he grabs his bag from behind his desk, getting ready to leave. “Not every day. I try to be home on time for dinner.”

“Got someone home who waits for you?” Simon asks. “No, but I don’t like eating dinner too late. I’m a bit of an early bird instead of a night owl.” 

The young teacher chuckles sheepishly. “What about you? Got a warm meal waiting for you at home? Now that I think about it, I probably shouldn’t have kept you here till this late.”

“Nonsense. I offered to help myself.” Simon says, walking out of the classroom after John, who locks the door behind them. “Still…” John muses unsure as they walk down the halls. “I appreciate the help.” 

Suddenly John perks up, seeming excited as he starts to ramble. “How about we go out for dinner? Since there’s no one waiting at home for the both of us, some company might be fun. My treat, of course, as a thank you.”

Simon is a bit surprised by the invitation since there’s no need to thank him. He feels like he should say no, that he shouldn’t go out with John since he doesn’t know him well enough, but there’s also a part of him that wants to go, to take this chance.

Normally he is quite hard on himself when it comes to these things, with meeting new people and making friends, since he’s known plenty of people who turned out to be not so great, but there’s something about John that just makes it so easy to relax. 

He’s been told by his boss, and old friend, Price, plenty of times to do so, but only John has made him truly want to believe again that it’s okay to open up to new people. 

He should try to make the most of this. It’s why he complies so easily to John’s idea. “You don’t need to thank me, John, really.” Simon starts. He can’t help but feel slightly amused as he notices a hint of a pout forming on the grown man’s lips. 

John already seems to think he’ll turn the offer down. The hint of disappointment in John’s eyes is almost flattering. Simon doesn’t get why the man would want to spend time with him, why anyone would want that, but It’s still nice to know that John does. 

Simon quickly continues to explain himself, wanting to fix that sad look in his eyes. “But, uh, dinner sounds lovely. Any place you have in mind?” John’s eyes seem to light up again with genuine joy at Simon’s complying. 

“I know the perfect place. There’s this nice bistro that serves really good Italian food. Unless you don’t want that of course, we could also-” Simon chuckles as John starts to ramble off again, way too worried about what Simon wants for his own good. John appears to be truly kind and seeing how admirable the young man besides him is, has been a breath of fresh air. John seems to wear his heart on his sleeve and has, thus far, been respectable and genuine to Simon’s knowledge. 

He should try to make the most of this, he tells himself. He expects that spending time with John could truly be enjoyable. It’s why he complies so easily to John’s choice of dinner. “Italian sounds great.” Simon says, cutting John’s ramblings short.

“Okay, Italian it is!” John smiles. They fall into an easy conversation as they make their way to the restaurant. During dinner they share stories, interests and at the end of it, Simon even dares to crack a few bad jokes which John seems to enjoy. 

By the end of their dinner, Simon feels comfortable and bold enough to fake going to the restroom. He pays for both their dinners before heading back to the table. “Ready to go?” he asks John who now gets up as well. 

“Yeah, just have to pay first.” He says as he grabs for his wallet. “No need.” Simon tells him. “I already paid.” John looks at him with an open mouth from surprise. “You paid? But I promised I would pay as a thank you.” 

Simon smiles. “I felt like I should thank you for the fun time. How about next time you pay?” John’s shocked expression turns into a bewildered smile. “You sneaky bastard.” He chuckles. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mister Riley. Next time I pay. No take-backsies.” 

Simon wears a toothy, genuine smile as he holds open the door for John as they walk outside. “Well then, Mister Mactavish. I’m already looking forward to it.”

[moonspirit]

I think the discussion on Armin’s relationship with his mother brings up an interesting idea, especially in relation to your fic. Specifically concerning his relationship with Hange, you have been identifying, and rightly so Levi as the “father” of the Scouts. So I am wondering at the other end do you identify Hange as the “mother”

I would love to hear your ideas on her/their relationship with Armin. Was it a mentor/protegee relationship given their similar passions for knowledge and exploration, or did it become sort of a “Son I never had” for Hange and “Mother whom I never really had” for Armin

As always I would love to hear your insight and thoughts on this.

Hello anon! This is long, sorry TT^TT I got carried away.

Tbh I haven't explored Armin's relationship with Hange all that much in VBEOW, but yes, as you say, the intention is clear that he looked up to her and they spent quite a lot of time together; that's what I'm getting at.

I think much of the fandom appreciates Levi and Hange being the parent figures to the 104th, in that the newest members of the SC are all mere children, and it's Levi and Hange who guide and lead them. Of course we have Erwin, we don't see there necessarily being a "huge distance" of rank between him and the 104th (he's around and about), but he's not the one scolding the kids, breaking up the fights, or teaching them titan science and new technology. Among the vets, Levi and Hange are closest to the 104th (going forth we mean EMA+JSC) and their bond only grows thicker as the years pass, numbers fall, and uncertainty grows.

This is why I love thinking about Levi's relationship to the Alliance post-rumbling, especially in relation to the Paradis boys (Armin, Jean and Connie) because after all that time spent together, they know him, and he knows them. He protected them, took care of them, (probably woke them up with a kick to the balls too), told them to buck up and focus in as little words as possible - a father, through and through.

All of the same goes for Hange, only, she doesn't make it to see them as Ambassadors.

Now coming to Armin specifically.

Among all the Ambassadors, he's the only one that's an orphan. Everyone else has parents, or at least someone looking forward to receiving them at home. Not counting Mikasa, (who is his family, yes, but she's not an adult figure), he has nobody that'll give him a hug and say he's made them a proud parent. There is a comfort in being held by someone older and feeling like you're still a child; that you'll always be their child.

But it's not just now, is it? He hasn't had it since he enlisted in the military.

At that young age when people have friends and parents, loneliness is crippling. Eren and Mikasa being inseparable I think there would've been times Armin wandered the buildings and scoured the libraries all alone. His curiosity to learn is something we don't see anyone sharing with him on quite the same level or depth - sure, he's telling people interesting things from what he's read most recently and they're listening, fascinated, but how many of them are picking his brain and quenching his thirst for a good, long conversation with questions, answers, hypothesis and conclusions?

One. Hange.

Or so I imagine. Their combined curiosity would've known no bounds. He's assessing her hypotheses, she/they're answering his questions. He helps her/them in the lab, she/they gives him new what-ifs to ponder about. She teaches him about the weather. He writes her expedition reports in meticulous detail. We see Hange rambling to anyone that'll spent 5 seconds listening, but it's a special satisfaction when someone listens with keen interest and a desire to contribute their thoughts by an equal measure. For Hange, Armin is a great scout in that he naturally possesses the understanding, empathy and curiosity needed of a scout in the first place. He's also sweet and polite - I see her/them developing a bit of a soft spot for him.

But then things go to shit right? Once the walls break (again) and along with it goes trust (RBA), nothing is a certainty anymore. From this point onwards, the SC begins to get pared down in both numbers and trustworthy members - by the end of S3, the SC we see are those few left alive and survived through all the betrayal. The only constants that remain for Armin then, are his immediate close friends (EM+JSC), Levi, and Hange.

And Hange is admittedly, more vocally softer in her approach to the kids than Levi is.

It only gets worse though, through the timeskip, which is the most grueling of times imo, in the whole story. Hange as a commander is different - no longer does she/they have the time or peace of mind to be the careless mad scientist because the pressure on her to perform, lead, and find a near impossible solution is insane. I imagine Armin and Hange spend many an evening thinking about what to do about the impending annihilation. Some of those evenings, she/they would break down, head in her/their hands, and admit only to him, that the burden of living up to Erwin's legacy's crushing her back.

To everyone else, Hange must be brave. The world's falling apart, she can't look weak. In front of Armin though, she can afford to look scared. Just a bit. Because he'll understand.

And Armin would understand all too well, wouldn't he? They share the burden, after all. One has been appointed the Commander, and the other has replaced a Commander.

Above anyone else too, Hange would understand Armin's guilt. He's just a boy of nineteen, receiving hostile stares and accusations simply for living and breathing, and she/they feel sorry. It wasn't her/their decision, it was Levi's, but Hange's been watching this boy grow up from a scrawny thirteen year old to a young adult who should be feeling more confident in himself (with a shifter's power too!), but he doesn't. He cries, he hates, he wishes he wasn't alive.

What kind of parent wouldn't hurt from that?

To sum up, from the beginning to the moment Hange died burning in the sky, I believe Armin and she/they shared a very special relationship. It might have started out as a Superior/Junior thing, but over time it progressed into something more, something deeper, something closer to the heart.

A soft spot for one another like nobody else had.

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Day 1 for May DWC 2024 Mysterious - Appearance

★ Backstage Glimpses at Hearts of Tenacity Fest ★

'It's for the show, I'd do anything for the show.' He thought to himself internally for the thirtieth time tonight. 'Elune please, I beg of you please make my nose stop itching.' Mind over matter Kon... you are tougher than this. You can get through this. "Bare with us a little longer Kon, how are you holding up in there?" A familiar voice said though his eyes were still closed. "I'm managing, but my arms are getting heavy." "Do you need us to get you some broom handles to hold onto?" The question brought a sense of hope. "NO! No we can't his palms haven't finished curing yet." A different yet also familiar voice exclaimed. And like that, his hope was gone in an instant and the weight of his arms grew even heavier. "I will be alright everyone, worry not." Kon said sounding calm and confident even if he was internally dying. Who'd have ever thought that being mostly naked with only a tight thong on his body would make him hotter than hell itself. Or course, he was also covered literally head to toe in high performance platinum silicone rubber specifically designed for creating silicone makeup and fake skin effects. Did the audience truly know how to appreciate the artwork that went into such special FX? Did they know how many hours one had to stand perfectly still while layer after layer was applied. Hours spent sculpting each wound, each scale on his body and each scar. The science behind creating certain spray molds and smooth casting. All the chemicals used and mixed perfectly and time spent letting them cure in their molds to later be applied to his body. All the talcum powder applied and the adhesive applied painstakingly to every inch of his body. Being forced to resist the urge to twitch when it tickled, to scratch when it itched, to move at all and risk an imperfection of something falling off or not sticking when it wasn't dry yet. Light forbid if you have to take a leak during all this, a bathroom break was NOT an option when this heavy of effects were applied. One had to risk dehydration from the moment they woke as they could not risk having a full bladder till the show was over. And even as the last of the prosthetics were finally applied, then come the hours of makeup to get the color and tone just right to make it more believable. So much so the audience would genuinely feel it was real as they quite literally could reach out and touch it. It was all for the visuals and the more real it looked, the more real it became. This was nothing Kon told himself, trying for a moment to just imagine what it would be like to become an Illidari in reality. To embrace the fel magics and your literal inner demon as your body is twisted and torn into something grotesque for the power and ability to fight fire with fire in the most literal of sense. What he was going through now paled in comparison to the real deal. But tell that to the literal STING in cheek DEMANDING to be itched. To the ache in his arms as they felt like 50 pound weights. To the crick in his back for standing still for so long without moving. To the throb in his feet as every muscle scream to move. To the... "TALTHORN!" Konietzko suddenly yelled, head jerking up from the backstage table it had been resting on. A few cotton balls stuck to his skin from the heat he'd generated in his short respite he'd unintentionally taken to get a little shut eye in the dressing room backstage before the big show tonight. His eyes wide with alert and darting around confused as he was ripped from his slumber so suddenly. "Sorry Kal'dalah, I didn't mean to wake you." The magi replied not too far behind him mid wince as he picked up the brush he'd just accidentally dropped from his own hand. "Damn thing got tangled in my hair." he whimpered trying to fix the tiniest of knots in his long well kept silver locks.

Still somewhat confused in his sudden wakefulness, Konietzko staggered out of his chair and went to Talthorn taking his hands a little desperately as he looked him in the eyes being rather dramatic. This was nothing new to his husband of course so he just laughed as he held Kon in return. "Pleeeaaaseee tell me you're going to use your magic to apply my Illidari makeup for Inner Beast's set tomorrow." Kon whined making Talthorn quip a brow. "Of course, do you doubt my talents love?" "NEVER!" Kon exclaimed as he breathed a breath of relief so big it was as if he'd been holding it all this time. "Thank Elune I married a magi." Talthorn laughed as he reached up to remove those cotton balls on his cheek. "You didn't marry me just because of my magic did you?" "Of course not Kal'dalah. Only -mostly- for your magic." Kon teased at him as he leaned in to kiss his husband holding him tight in a warm embrace with a deep smile curved along his lips. "GET A ROOM!" A shout cried followed by many giggles from the nearby doorway. A quick look and both saw a few of their fellow stars standing there watching them. "Why when being watched is soooo much better." Kon purred in his deep voice as he slid a finger down Talthorn's thigh then hooked his leg and raised it up around Kon's own thigh. Talthorn played along, pressing his body against his husband as he hit the onlookers with a look only this silver fox could pull off and that made many jealous of Kon's marriage to him in all honesty. The doorway filled with smug grins, laughter, a few yelps and even the sound of a few feet running away suddenly down the hallway of the backstage area. It filled the elves both with laughter of their own as they looked to one another once more. "Guess we'll just have to save it for the Talicious show." Kon teased as their leftover audience groaned their displeasure. What happened backstage at HoT Fest stayed at HoT Fest... or usually wound up on their stage in some form. Either way, noone ever complained.

@daily-writing-challenge @talthorn-sylvoran

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Season Four Master Post

Season four is one of the most beloved seasons of The X-Files, and we had a lot of fun exploring the background characters that helped make it so special!

Check out this thread to see all the characters we got to meet this season!

Herrenvolk (4x01) | X

No one would remember him, and if they did, they would struggle to remember a name they were never told. The memory of his existence would remain occluded by the shadows he lived in.

Home (4x02) | Sheriff Andy Taylor

For protection, his father had said, as he pressed the unfamiliar cold metal into Taylor’s warm hand. To keep your family safe.

To keep your home safe.

He shuts the drawer. He isn’t ready for this reality, not now. Not yet.

Teliko (4x03) | Special Agent Sean Pendrell

With them, it was never something simple. It was a computer chip so fragile he could barely study it. It was a complex string of numbers and letters tracking a smallpox vaccination program for reasons he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

This was what he went to school for.

Unruhe (4x04) | Gerry Schnauz

Gerry knew she needed his help the moment they met. There was a howler inside of her head — a black mass invading her body and mind.

The Field Where I Died (4x05) | Melissa Rydell Ephesian

Melissa struggled with the idea of reincarnation, but dared not show it. And as it turned out, a broken link in the chain of her faith led to more broken links.

When she first saw Vernon hurt a child, the chain shattered.

Sanguinarium (4x06) | Dr. Theresa Shannon

The face on the computer had looked just like Jack, but that had to be impossible. The science of surgery hadn’t come that far. To spread the eyes further apart, change features completely… and besides, she knows him. Knows the person he is…

Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man (4x07) | Albert M. Godwinkle

All Albert M. Godwinkle wants today is to read a halfway decent manuscript that puts a smile on his disgruntled face. Today is not that day.

Tunguska (4x08) | Alex Krycek

If looks could kill, Alex would be a dead man. But he thrives off this, off making Mulder squirm. It’s just so fucking easy.

Terma (4x09) | Senator Albert Sorenson

He was a staunch proponent of holding insubordinate witnesses in contempt when the court was not being respected, and no one, not even a government employee, was immune to that.

Paper Hearts (4x10) | Addie Sparks

The little girl he loves is gone, and she is never coming back.

Just like me.

El Mundo Gira (4x11) | Migrant Worker

At the simple mention of El Chupacabra, the shack erupted in a cacophony of worry, as if merely saying the name might summon the beast.

Leonard Betts (4x12) | Michele Wilkes

Even through the panic she felt screaming through her that nothing about this was okay, she felt a moment of relief wash over her. Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe her partner hadn’t died while she was at the wheel.

Never Again (4x13) | Ed Jerse

Deadbeat. Loser. Failure.

He’s heard it all, and he has had enough. No one humiliates Ed Jerse anymore. No, not now. Never again.

Memento Mori (4x14) | Kurt Crawford

What is destined for a creature borne of fluid and test tubes, guided by the hands of cruel men?

Kaddish (4x15) | Ariel Luria

Someone else’s hatred had taken her true love away. Just like that, in an instant, like it was nothing. But it was not hatred that led her to the gravesite that stormy night.

Unrequited (4x16) | Special Agent Kent Hill

Hill slides in his earpiece, watching as their eyes lock. His wife would call it eavesdropping, but as he steps closer, tilting his head just right to better hear their hushed voices, Hill simply calls it satisfying a long-standing curiosity.

Tempus Fugit (4x17) | Bartender

The man tried to fluff the pink ball back into shape after presumably squashing it in his pocket. “The woman I came in with— it’s her birthday, and she loves these things. I was wondering if there was any way you could ask someone in the back to put it on a plate and bring it out to her?”

Max (4x18) | Sharon Graffia

Sharon Graffia isn’t a liar. She’d only done what she needed to in order for people to believe her. All she’s ever wanted was someone to believe her.

Synchrony (4x19) | Jason Nichols

Naïveté and a complete lack of understanding of the consequences of their work had been their downfall. But how could they have known?

Small Potatoes (4x20) | Eddie Van Blundht

It didn’t take him long to realize he’d initially misread the situation when he saw them at the clinic. Based on the look Dana Scully shot him when he tried to hold her hand at the airport, he knew he was navigating territory Fox Mulder had yet to conquer.

Zero Sum (4x21) | Billy

He slowly twisted his neck to the right, and was horrified by the sight before him. In the next bed over was David from his class, his face covered in gross red bumps. He looked dead.

Billy didn’t know what else to do. He started crying.

Elegy (4x22) | Lauren Heller

She had an exam in the morning. Her mother’s birthday was the following weekend. She had plans.

Demons (4x23) | Amy Cassandra

As she speaks, the deep wound in her skull throbs, reminding her that that was true, until weeks ago when she’d traded the nightmare of one penetrating drill with the reality of another.

Gesthemane (4x24) | Father McCue

Her faith had come from God, yes… but it had also come from another, less expected source. Perhaps it still did.

Stay tuned for more perspectives coming in Season Five!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

We spend so much time deliberating and chatting about who to use in a given episode or where certain characters would be best utilized in the series, and we'd love to hear any opinions or predictions you might have! Do you have a favorite minor character? What episodes do you think would be best for our favorite recurring characters? Your feedback is one of the most enjoyable parts of this project (and sometimes hearing other perspectives can help inform the decisions we have to make). - @admiralty-xfd, @fridaysat9, @monikafilefan, and @gaycrouton

[kateac12]

Jerome and Jeremiah having a daughter would include...

Jerome

He's over the moon to learn that he's having a girl, and he'll do anything to protect his "little princess"

Will spend hours just looking at his baby girl sleep in her crib

Always takes her to the park and out for ice cream

"Is that boy in your class still picking on you? Don't worry princess, I'll take take care of them" *winks*

Almost never yells (except when his criminal professional life is really stressing him out)

Will apologize over and over for losing his cool. Makes it up by making her favorite meal, or taking her out to do something fun like ice skating, mini-golf, paint-balling

Goes all out for holidays. Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, you name it. Jerome didn't have those things growing up, and he'll be damned if he doesn't make his child feel special

Will happily help with projects (especially arts and crafts). His daughter will likely get first place in the science fair for making something blow up

The type of dad that will definitely excited to take pictures of his daughter going to prom (and of course, she'll be going with friends, because Jerome will kill threaten any boy that tries to get close to his baby). He knows how boys are, and he refuses to let his daughter get her heart broken by a dumb teenager

"Aww you look so beautiful in that dress I stole got for you." "Dad, stop, you're embarrassing me!"

"Dad, I'm 17. When are you going to let me have a boyfriend?" "I already told you that you can't date until you're 25!"

Jeremiah (pre-spray)

Acts like he doesn't care much about the baby

High key terrified that his little girl will be like his brother or mom

Over time, he warms up to his child, but he's still a very distant father

"Daddy, do you want to do a puzzle with me?" "My dear, I'm a bit busy with work. Ecco, can you play with her?"

Homeschools the kid in his bunker, because he's too paranoid to let them out

Jeremiah will absolutely insist on his daughter going to university, because education is very important to him

Will help with homework

It's only when something drastic happens (such as his daughter getting injured at school or kidnapped for ransom) that he starts caring more for his baby

"Sweetheart, I know I wasn't the best father when you were growing up. I really do love you. I'm sorry"

He tries to make an effort to spend more time with his daughter, like watching a movie with her or taking her out to eat

Isn't super strict with dating, but he will insist that the boy his daughter is interested in meets up with him first

Jeremiah (post-spray)

It would be a stretch to say that he loves his child. It's more like, in his own very twisted way, he cares about his daughter, but only if she's useful

Is a more hands on father than (pre-spray) Jeremiah. But it's not a good thing because he is just trying to gauge how skilled and intelligent his daughter is

He will absolutely want to know what his daughter's skills are. Is she good at math and science like him? Is she a poet? Is she drawn more to the arts?

Any skill that she has will be utilized for his personal gain

If she doesn't have any talents? She better stay out of his way and not cause any problems

He doesn't care as much about getting an education. After all, why use those brains for college when you can use your intelligence for helping him do crime?

Will make his daughter pull all nighters (because he needs help figuring out how to destroy buildings around Gotham)

"Dad, can I go to sleep now? It's 4 AM." "You can sleep when I successfully take over Gotham."

If a boy likes her, he'll kidnap meet the boy. "You have two choices. Either follow me as your leader, or you die."

If the boy agrees to follow Jeremiah, he will dig up some dirt on the boy's family, or embezzle them for money

"Dad! Please don't hurt him! I love him!" "Sweetheart, anyone who's around my family needs to declare their undying loyalty to me"

[shyvioletcat]

A/N: So my dear friend @mariamuses​ came up with a wonderful prompt (this one right here) that really took hold of my imagination and wouldn’t let go. I’ve been working on it for a while but finally got around to getting it done. @rowaelinprompts​ another one for the list. 

CW: A whole lot of banter, swearing and smut.

~~~~~

If Rowan Whitethorn was the main character in a novel, Aelin would most definitely be the antagonist in his tragic story. 

Their relationship hadn’t started smoothly, they had metaphorically been at each other’s throat from the moment they met. They were authors, both of them employed but the same publisher, and essentially rivals in every way. Rowan was an author of epic fantasy, the gritty you have to be fully awake to keep track of kind. Aelin wrote for the fantasy genre as well but her books were more of the romantic kind. There was a stigma attached to that and people like Rowan-holier-than-thou Whitethorn tended to look down their noses at such things. She wrote romantic fantasy, he wrote science fiction. They were at polar opposites on the literary scale.

The introduction had occurred in their publisher’s office. Aelin had gone in to renew her contract and Rowan had been in the office signing his first. They shared a manager and Fenrys had been very excited to introduce them. She had offered a charming smile and her hand, which to his credit Rowan had taken in a brief handshake. After that Rowan had barely given her a second glance. 

Aelin supposed that Rowan was just shy, and she tried over and over again to be friendly and get his attention. There were more than enough opportunities for it—the two of them were the shining stars of the fantasy world. They were always in on the big meetings together to organise release dates and press circuits. To keep the money flowing in smoothly the company usually alternated half yearly.

And it was unfortunate for him that there was very little in life that gave her as much joy as pissing him off did. He wasn’t all bad, their wits matched when they engaged in their battles of wills and he was devastatingly handsome. Maybe she was no better than the kid on the school yard picking on the person they liked because they didn’t know how to deal with their own feelings. Somewhere along the line, between the insane amount of grumpiness and quiet composure, Aelin had decided that she liked him. Like liked him. But that didn’t matter. Aelin could ignore all that for pure fun riling up Rowan Whitethorn gave her. It wasn’t entirely satisfying, but it was enough to keep her going. 

Today Rowan had to suffer through hours of it. The two of them were at a comic and pop culture convention; meeting, greeting and signing things for fans and for monetary gain. Seated next to each other it was all too easy to slip a comment over the few feet of desk between them. Or flick little bits of paper over that she took the time to roll into teeny tiny balls for a singular purpose amid the stream of fans. In fact one such fan had just left the signing table when a piece of Aelin’s ammunition hit Rowan’s cheek. That quietly enthusiastic book buyer was the last for that round and they would have about fifteen minutes until the next lot came through. 

He didn’t even flinch, he just sighed and clicked his pen, brushing the paper away with a casual hand. 

“Your fans are so much more boring than mine,” Aelin said, chin resting in her palm. 

“What?” Rowan asked flatly.

“Well, mine tend to go all out in their costuming,” Aelin replied. “Your’s

just put on a themed t-shirt and call it a day.” 

“Is that such a bad thing? It’s far more practical,” Rowan countered as he leant back in his chair. “They don’t have to worry about being the weird ones on public transport or having their boobs fall out of their tops.”

Aelin grinned. “Have you been paying special attention to the boobs on display?” 

Rowan didn’t answer but the blush on his was answer enough. 

“Well, well, well. It seems that my books have given you something to care about,” Aelin added.

“Stop it, I have not been looking… it's just a general observation,” Rowan insisted. 

“You’re welcome by the way.” Another ball of paper hit his face. 

This time Rowan sighed. “Aelin.” 

“Rowan.” Her voice was sickly sweet. 

He looked over at her and Aelin’s stomach flipped. He was too handsome today, all made up for the public. He’d shaved, and his hair was kept from falling into his eyes with just the right amount of product. It was such an unusual colour and not for the first time Aelin wished she could touch it. 

So caught up in her thoughts Aelin totally missed that Rowan had actually said something to her. 

“Hmm? Sorry I am just thinking about the poor unfortunate souls that have been ensnared by your sub par writing.” 

A familiar challenge flashed in his eyes and Aelin knew her little game was succeeding. 

“I was just saying it’s nice that your fans have so much fun with your work,” Rowan said.

“Wait, Mr Whitethorn, was that a compliment?” Aelin’s hand was on her chest like she might be about to swoon. 

He shook his head. “That was a compliment for your fans, not you. I’ll refrain from making a comment about their tastes in literature.”

Oh, he was ready to play now, Aelin thought to herself. 

“Insulting the fans is a little beneath you, don’t you think?” Aelin said, twirling her gold ink pen between her fingers. “They are our livelihood after all. I’m sure, despite how you feel about me, you wouldn’t wish for me to be destitute. You’re not that cruel.”

Rowan glanced down at his watch, probably checking for when the next lot of fans would start flooding through. “Of course not, a little humility wouldn’t go astray though.”

Aelin tipped back her head and laughed, when she was done she found Rowan looking at her, an odd look on his face. Not odd enough to dissuade her from her next comment. “You won’t have luck there.”

She could have sworn the corner of his mouth quirked up the smallest amount for the tiniest fraction of a second. “Why am I not surprised?”

Any further response was interrupted by an attendant letting them know it would only be a few minutes before the next round of signings would begin. Aelin smiled and nodded and waited for the blushing young person to turn around before she went through her pre-fan-meeting brush up. She fluffed out her loose hair, readjusted the straps of her dress. One of the knots at her shoulder was coming undone so she gave that a quick pull to tighten it. After that she took out the small mirror from her pocket to check her face. Everything seemed fine except for a loose eyelash. There were signs of commotion starting as the fans from the start of the line so Aelin snapped her mirror shut. Blatant vanity wasn’t good for her image, or something like that, according to her publicist. She’d have to get rid of the eyelash blindly. 

Aelin swept at her cheek, assuming it was gone, and put on her most charming of smiles giving those at the front of the line a quick wave. They tittered with excitement, copies of her books in their hands. Rowan’s fans, on the other hand, were far more subdued, but a few of them up the front were vibrating with nervousness. When they did sneak a glance in Rowan’s general direction Aelin gave them a smile and even a sly wink. Three of them blushed. 

“You missed it.” Rowan’s voice cut through her thoughts. 

“Hmm?” Aelin angled her chair so she faced him better. 

“Your eyelash, it’s still there.” 

She was surprised he’d been paying enough attention to her to notice the whole lash situation. Aelin swiped at her face again, fingertips dabbing along her cheek bone. 

“You’re completely missing it,” Rowan said. He scooted his chair over, nearly close enough that their knees touched, then he beckoned her with a hand. Aelin lent it, her breath catching as Rowan’s fingers touched her cheek. It was over in less than three seconds, and yet those few seconds without air were enough to make her completely breathless. He left his finger raised in front of her face and she spotted the offending eyelash on the tip of his finger. “Make a wish.” 

Aelin cocked her head, fighting a smile. This was straight out of one of her books, her debut novel in fact. The heroine and the soon to be love interest share a quiet moment amongst all the trials and danger that would eventually bring them together. It was sweet, and a turning point for those characters. There was no way Rowan would understand the significance of what he was doing. And that same peaceful outcome was highly unlikely in this situation. 

Playing along anyway, Aelin sucked in a breath to blow away the eyelash. Her wish wouldn’t be polite to voice in public, or to the man that it included. But when Aelin’s breath passed her lips she kept the vision of her and him very clear in her mind. Of her body pressed against the wall, Rowan’s hands holding her up by her thighs as her hands tugged at his hair, mussing it out of one perfection into another, and the heated kisses being pressed over every inch of uncovered skin. That scene right there—one she had thought of countless times, that was her wish. 

“What did you wish for?” Rowan asked, none the wiser over her depraved thoughts. 

Aelin tsked at him, shaking her head like she was annoyed at such a foolish question. “Rule one, you never say what you wish for out loud. Otherwise it won’t come true.”

He didn’t push it, instead he fiddled with the rolled sleeve of his shirt. That left Rowan’s tattoos on display—a design Aelin had traced over with her eyes numerous times. Something in the Old Language and she would be lying if she hadn’t thought about learning just so she could understand what is said. 

Footsteps and voices drew away Aelin’s attention and she turned to face the oncoming influx of fans. It was time to smile and put on a show. These were people who made her so successful, she owed them something. 

“Hi, how are you today?” Aelin said to the fan who rushed up, a shiny new book in their hand. “Shall I sign that for you?” 

That was essentially the same script Aelin used fan after fan. There were some variations when questions were exchanged. The fan in front of her at the moment had broken down in tears and Aelin had reached out to touch her hand, it only made her cry harder. Eventually the fan gathered herself enough to give a teary but very sincere thank you. Aelin grinned, giving a small wave, before movement in the corner of her eye redirected her attention. She peered over to Rowan’s desk, seeing that he was making a tally. 

“What are you doing?” She asked before she could stop herself. 

Rowan didn’t look at her, just clicked away the nib of his pen. “That’s going to tell me how many of your fans cried.” 

Aelin left out a short laugh. “You’ve been counting?”

“Had to find something to entertain myself,” Rowan replied. “She’s number eight, just for your information.”

“Maybe I should keep track of all your fans who flirt with you, I might need an entire notebook. Makes me think it’s not actually your writing that’s intrigued them. Whoever decided to put your photo on the back cover should get a cut of the money.” 

Rowan didn’t get a chance to reply because a pretty young woman wearing a t-shirt dedicated to one of his prominent characters approached his table. She gave him big starry eyes, her voice probably an octave higher than it needed it to be. To say Rowan was smiling might have been an exaggeration, but his face was pleasant. Aelin had her own fan to deal with so she missed whatever happened next in the interaction. When she glanced back at Rowan after sending that one away, he was still talking to the same woman. His elbows rested on the table as he looked up at her, smiling now. A real ‘you could see his teeth’ smile. 

Aelin’s gut twisted with jealousy. Not only was this woman flirting with him, but Rowan was flirting back. It would never be that way with her, he loathed her, hated her, the villain in his story. Any amiability they had at these things were short lived. By tomorrow the ice would reform under the cover of night and they would go back to the way they were.

Finally the fangirl left, throwing one last dazzling smile over her shoulder. Thankfully for Aelin’s own sanity, Rowan didn’t notice, he was too busy getting his desk back in order. 

“You know we don’t get paid to flirt with the fans, right? There’s no extra bonus for that,” Aelin threw at him, her voice sharper than it should have been. 

“She was flirting with me, I wasn’t flirting with her,” Rowan defended. 

“Yeah sure,” Aelin said, breaking up the conversation with another signing. “From where I sat, that looked a lot like flirting, so much so I ..would call it such.” 

Rowan sent off another of his fans with a signature before he turned to her. His green eyes pinned her in place, the unexpected intensity stunning her to utter stillness.

“Trust me, Aelin,” He gave a quick glance as he nodded for the next fan to come forward. “If I was flirting, you would know.”

Clearing her throat, Aelin took the book form yet another fan and signed her name. And she did, again and again. She hated that Rowan had got the upper hand on her, that he had been the one to ruffle her feathers. That was her job. She could feel the smugness radiating off him and in between smiles and fleeting hellos, Aelin was scrambling for a come back. 

When Aelin saw a small group of Rowan’s manly fans snigger at her fans and the adorable commitment they had taken to their love of her books, it came to her. 

“If you flirt as bad as you write…” Aelin muttered during a slight lull in signing, letting the comment fade out into the realm of interpretation. “You’re probably one of those male writers who creates one dimensional women whose ovaries tingle at the sight of a handsome man or boobs that move counter clockwise when they walk.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Rowan asked, conscious of his language as a particularly young fan walked up with his parent. 

“Female characters, Rowan. In particular, yours,” Aelin offered. 

Rowan’s laugh was humourless. “There’s only one way to find out for sure, Aelin.”

She ignored the way her name sounded coming from those full lips. “Never.” 

Aelin had declared numerous times that she had not read his books, she had sworn she never would. So she didn’t know for sure how Rowan wrote his female characters, regardless she wasn’t going to abandon her new line of attack. 

“I’ll start passing judgement on your faerie porn,” Rowan said to her, making the person who had just handed over a book snort.

Aelin signed her page viciously. Yes, her books were full of faeries, yes they had a lot of sex. There was nothing to be ashamed of about writing, reading and enjoying such things. The condescension and superiority that people held around romantic fantasy screamed of misogyny. As a predominantly female author community it wasn't at all surprising that the genre was looked down on. And faerie porn wasn’t necessarily a bad term, not when it was used lightly and lovingly, and by the right people. Rowan Whitethorn, with his know it all scientist and boring spaceships, was not one of those people. 

“A length as long as a forearm,” Rowan added. “Have you actually measured your forearm?”

Aelin couldn’t help it, she did look at her forearm, even subtly shifting it over so she could compare it to her body. She had never specifically compared a dick to a forearm but maybe she was prone to a little exaggeration. It was romance, it was fantasy, an extra few inches was a given. 

“Oh, please,” Aelin was glad that the end of the line was sight. “A huge penis is far more believable than a poorly contrived experiment gone wrong.”

“It’s science fiction,” Rowan said. 

“It’s fantasy,” Aelin shot right back. 

For a moment they just looked at each other, the challenge rising. If he wanted to play the euphemism game she would play. She was an expert. She had at least five alternatives for clit in her back pocket. 

“Feeling a little inadequate?” Aelin all but mocked in a sympathising and sweet voice. “I hear it's not size that matters.” 

Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not talking about this.” 

If that wasn’t just an invitation. 

Work prevented her from answering right away, interrupted by what she was here to do. This was going to pay for another fancy bookcase in her home office and maybe some books to fill it. 

“I would bet you wouldn’t even know where to find that bundle of nerves,” she taunted. “And if you did, you wouldn’t know what to do.”

In turn, Rowan was delayed by his own work, but she could see the tightness working in his jaw as he withheld his answer. She wondered what he was spending his money on. 

When he was done he lent an elbow on his table and once again Aelin found herself rooted in place by his stare. Not to use a cliche but it was the very definition of a heated stare. She was starting to contemplate whether or not Rowan really hated her, because when his eyes took a casual perusal over her she was most definitely having second thoughts. 

“Are you sure about that?” His voice was low and rough. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. It was unfair that he could so easily start unravelling her with just a few words.

A very bright Hi snapped Aelin out of her trance and she went back to her job. She was distracted through that signing, barely remembering who had offered up the book or what they looked like, because she couldn't shake the distinct feeling that Rowan had just been flirting with her.

Maybe she could get him to do it again. 

“That one spot is a thing of complicated wonder, not everyone has the skills,” Aelin said, she was a free woman now with her line ending. Rowan had a few more to go. “I would begin to wonder if the women in your books even have one.”

Rowan actually muttered a curse under his breath and gallantly recovered by the time one of his few remaining fans came up to the table. 

When he had a moment he replied. “At least I keep the growling to a minimum.”

“Don’t mock the growling, my readers love the growling,” Aelin defended. “It’s a crowd pleaser.”

The last few of Rowan’s fans handed their books over and he gave them his full attention. It wasn’t until they were gone that he faced her. “Is that how you write, Aelin? Cheap cliches and tropes please the populace?”

“Excuse me?” Aelin said, playfulness morphing into anger. How dare he insult her or her writing like that.

“Can’t handle when the tables are turned, Galathynius?” Rowan was entirely too smug for her to handle. 

Aelin wanted to storm off, but she still had a few more minutes to wait here in case there were any late comers. All she could do is glare, eyes narrowing at Rowan who was busy looking at something on his phone and dream of all the painful ways she could use that pen on him. Maybe she’d start with stabbing him in the hand, slow down his writing a bit. Noise drew her attention away and she saw a few more people walking over. Regardless, she took the opportunity to fire another non violent shot. 

“I don’t know why I expected anything else, Sci-fi is such a boys club. I wouldn't expect you to think for yourself and think outside the preconceived sexist ideas against female authors. Romance, no matter the sub genre, is valid and worthy just as much as any other form of writing.”

Rowan looked mildly shocked, then affronted. “I never—“

A throat clearing had Rowan stopping, he looked down awkwardly and then to the fan who handed him a book. He stumbled over his introduction but recovered quickly and slipped on that charming mask. That’s all it was, a mask. He was a bastard, a pious, narrow minded bastard. It was very unfortunate Aelin was obsessed with him.

Rowan had a pair of women fawning over him and suddenly Aelin was filled with longing for that to be her. Not gushing over his work, because she hadn’t read it wouldn’t know where to start. But to be able to appreciate him in public. Not bottling it all up to the point that she felt like she was going to explode. 

Despite the fan in front of him, Rowan said, “You really think I’m one of those assholes that degrades their female characters to pandering damsels with no depth or purpose other than wives or the murdered?”

With no real evidence, Aelin just shrugged but a fan came to his defence. “He actually gave a really great interview talking about the depiction of women in media.”

“On how to do it wrong,” Aelin muttered, but each word was clear.

Rowan’s pen snapped down on the table but that was the only sign of his irritation as he thanked and said goodbye to the fan that had gallantly come to his defence. What Aelin had done was highly unprofessional and she just hoped the fan wouldn’t take to social media about it. She didn’t like her chances. 

The last of the stragglers came through and Aelin signed her last book, sending the fan off with a genuine smile and an enthusiastic wave, just waiting for the official declaration for this to be over. 

“Okay, you guys are done,” the attendant that was directing them around said, giving Aelin’s table a definitive ending of signing knock. 

“Thanks for that,” Aelin said brightly, thanking the gods this was over and she’d have some space to breathe. She went to offer some lighthearted celebratory banter but Rowan was already gone. He must have dashed out as soon as the attendant came over, his chair was still spinning. 

Aelin followed, eager to be out of the public eye. She’d messed up, and she should apologise, even if it meant swallowing her pride and admitting she was wrong. That left a very sour taste in her mouth and she sighed. She could do this, sorry wasn’t a hard word to say. 

Walking down the deserted hallway towards the VIP rooms, Rowan was easy to spot. This part of the convention centre was closed off from the public, only guests and workers were allowed back here. He turned a corner, right to where their dressing rooms were. With the need for solitude Aelin almost passed Rowan’s door to her own but she needed to do the right thing.

She hesitated at his door. Maybe. Aelin stepped back and raised her fist. Yes. 

Her knuckles were about to hit the cheap laminate when the door opened. Rowan was looking at his phone so nearly bowled her over. It took her touching his chest for him to notice her blocking the way. His eyes started on her hand and tracked up her arm to her face within a matter of seconds. He was most definitely disappointed to see her. 

“Hellas take me, what?” He snapped, taking a step back into his room. 

“Hello to you, too,” Aelin said sardonically, matching his mood. “I didn’t realise my mere presence was so offensive. Can’t say it’s unexpected.”

Rowan cursed under his breath before looking right at her. “How else do you expect me to react after you’ve spent gods know how long assuming the worst about me and my work? You’re judging me on my books which you haven’t even read.” He paused like he was considering his words. “I’ve read yours, all of them. And I will happily admit to everyone that they’re good, but you can’t afford me the same courtesy. I don’t understand why you have this gods-damned vendetta against me.’

For a long moment Aelin just stood there stunned, just processing the words he’d said. Then in her shocked state, it was her stubbornness that won out. “Nice of you to let me know you degraded yourself to the level of reading faerie porn, I hope it wasn’t above your reading level.”

She shouldn’t have said it, because Rowan got mad, unexpectedly mad. This wasn’t the playful banter induced irritation that Aelin liked to rile out of him. This was real anger, so fierce and sudden it left Aelin feeling flustered and way out of her depth. 

Rowan let out a short bitter laugh. “You know what, Aelin? I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of this.”

“Just admit—” Aelin had to clear her throat. “Just admit your institutionalised misogyny and distaste for my books. That should excuse you like every other man who can’t admit they’re wrong, you absolute asshat.”

“I don’t understand what I did to deserve your contempt, I’ve never claimed to laud my writing prowess over you.” He was fuming now. “If you want to talk about people admitting you were wrong, you might want to start with yourself.”

Aelin scoffed. “I think you’re threatened, and like any threatened animal you’re lashing out. Just like your writing, your words now won’t be enough.”

Rowan actually took a step back and ran an agitated hand through his hair. “You know what, I’ve had enough of your princess act. You’re a fantastic author but thanks to nepotism you’ve had to work nowhere near as hard as I have. Daddy’s money supported you, you can’t deny it. I wasn’t allowed that kind of time or freedom to hone my craft.”

Anger stoked, Aelin wouldn’t, couldn’t back down. “How dare you. How dare you insinuate once again my writing is so inferior to yours just because I don’t fit the idea of the tortured author. Although it's a relief to finally and openly admit your halfassery in your own work.”

“I never—” Rowan snapped. “You know what, fuck you!” 

The swearing took Aelin by surprise, flustered her and apparently scrambled her brain because she had no control or coherency over the words that flew from her mouth of their own accord. “No, you fuck me!” 

If Aelin had possessed lesser restraint she would have clamped a hand over her mouth to try and cram those damning words back in. Instead she just stood there dumbstruck, Rowan did too. Then his whole demeanour changed. The shock morphed into confident determination, like he was piecing together a riddle and had come to a sudden realisation. His green eyes locked onto her’s, taking the steps he needed so that he was leaning a hand on the doorway, close enough that Aelin had to look up at him. 

For a moment the only sound Aelin heard was the beating of her heart on her own ears. Then Rowan lent in just that fraction closer. 

“Do you want me to?” He asked, whisper soft but rough in a way that made Aelin’s gut twist. 

“I—“ her throat was so dry that her voice scratched it and caught there.

A smirk tilted Rowan’s lips, and he became handsome in a dangerous way. “Is this the truth of it, Aelin? You want to fuck me so bad that tease and taunt just to ease your frustrations? How’s that going for you?”

Aelin swallowed, hoping her voice would return with some amount of confidence so that she could admit to the contrary convincingly. “Don’t flatter yourself, Whitethorn.” 

Rowan stood a little taller. “That’s not a no.”

Oh gods.

Thoughts floundering, Aelin was looking for something to rescue her from the situation she had marched herself into. Now Rowan had called her out, and somehow he was able to see through the lies she tossed his way. 

“Have we argued enough that you’ll go back to your dressing room and smile at yourself in the mirror as you come up with clever little insults for our next round?” Rowan asked, reaching out and sweeping her hair over the knot of her dress that sat on her shoulder. “Or should we keep going and see what happens next?”

The gesture had almost been sweet, innocent, but then his thumb dragged down the side of her neck. 

“You’re teasing.” Aelin hated how breathless her voice sounded. 

His featherlight touch ceased, his hand withdrawing to a safer distance. “Am I?”

Mala burn her, what was happening right now? All of Aelin’s wit had deserted her; she stood there, no retort or scathing remark to put Rowan back in his place. The only thought that was rattling around in her empty head was that maybe Rowan wanted this too. It made her senses come alive, all too keenly focused on the man in front of her. Aelin could scent the fresh edge of his cologne, her eyes roved over him without shame or reserve. The brief touch he had given her wasn’t enough, and without her permission she found herself arching ever so slightly towards him in the wish for more. She wanted to feel his hands on her body— wanted to taste him.

“Well, Aelin. What’s it going to be?” Rowan no longer lent on the doorway, standing straight he just looked at her expectantly. 

The next move was her’s to decide. 

He’d outplayed her, Aelin hated it.

“You’re a bastard,” she half mumbled, all her usual arrogance nowhere to be found, she tried to save some face by putting a hand on her hip. An abrasive and hostile stance.

Rowan wasn’t discouraged. “We’ll see if I can change your mind about that.”

Aelin felt her face scrunch in confusion. “What is that suppose—oop!”

Rowan yanked Aelin into his dressing room by the brave arm on her hip, far enough that he could close the door and then press her into it. When she had time to catch her breath, Aelin found her hands bunched in the front of his pristine button up shirt. Their chests heaved in unison, neither of them making the move to take it further. 

“Rowan,” was the only word Aelin could manage, the only thing in her head. 

In response to his name he bowed closer, their mouths almost touching. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Rowan asked. “I need you to say it before I give you what you want.”

Aelin couldn’t say it, it was like the final barrier in admitting she was wrong. So instead she went to close the distance herself, but to her gut sinking disappointment Rowan drew back. 

“I’ve read your books, Aelin. I know you know how to use words,” Rowan made sure his know-it-all tone came through.

She was stuck, trapped and wanting so badly. And from the satisfied smile on his face, Rowan knew it. 

“Yes,” she predicted the insistence that would come from Rowan’s mouth and clarified. “Yes, kiss me.”

Surprisingly he sighed in relief. “Thank the gods.” 

Aelin gasped as Rowan closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to her mouth, then moaning as he didn’t hold back. That small sound was enough to snap just a little bit more of Rowan’s restraint and he crowded her fully against the door, pressing their bodies together. It felt close to heaven having his hard body on her’s like this with how perfectly they aligned. When Rowan’s hands dragged from her back down to her waist Aelin arched into him, bringing them that much closer. He held her against him with strong and insistent hands. 

“Is this all you wanted, princess?” Rowan asked, blessing her lips with another heady kiss. “Or did you really mean what you said?”

Aelin had two choices. She could hold to her stubbornness and pride, twist the door handle somewhere behind her and flee. Or… she could stay and have Rowan do exactly what she had told him to do. 

“Rowan I—“ she got distracted when Rowan kissed down her neck. “I want you to.”

“Want me to what, exactly?”

This was Rowan’s revenge. For every insult and teasing word that Aelin had thrown at him for years, he was dragging this out. Pulling drawn out confirmations and pleas just to see her squirm. He was going to make her say the words just for spite. It just made Aelin want it—him—more.

“Fuck me, Rowan,” Aelin said, a hand im Rowan’s hair to bring his lips closer. “I want it.”

He growled, something right out of her books, a sound low in his throat that had the blood in Aelin’s veins heating. Rowan abandoned his words, and let his actions speak now. He hooked a hand under her knee, spreading her legs wide enough that he could press between them. Once again, all Aelin could do was gasp as she felt the length of him press into her core, grinding against her. She still had a hand fisted in Rowan’s shirt and she gripped and twisted it tighter, moaning as her hips began rolling in time with his. 

Rowan was kissing her like he could swallow the sounds. It felt divine, and tortuous and not enough. She might have voiced it aloud because the next moment Rowan had a hold of her other thigh and was carrying her across the room. Aelin just looked at him, a little stunned by the brazen act as she was settled on a flat, hard surface. 

“You alright there?” Rowan asked with a kiss to her cheek and then the corner of her mouth. 

“Uh-huh,” Aelin nodded. “Just… unexpected.” 

“We’ll add it to the list for today,” was all Rowan said before he was kissing her again. 

With Aelin now seated on a steady surface, the bench below the mounted mirror, it gave Rowan’s hands newer freedoms. They started on her ass and then roamed back to her waist. Aelin could thank her dress for that attention. It had a flat panel that cinched in her waist above the skirt. The waist piece was cut to scoop under her breasts, almost like a corset, the top of the dress tying in knots at her shoulders. What that did was create a perfect path for Rowan’s hands to follow. 

Aelin looked into Rowan’s green eyes as she felt his hands move higher, stopping at the seams at the underside of her breasts. His eyes darkened as he took care in running his thumb along the line of the layered fabric, but it was enough sensation to fill her with a new wave of need. Her fingers went to the buttons of Rowan’s shirt, swiftly undoing it to, exploring the fevered skin beneath. 

With her bare hands on his skin Rowan leaned closer, drawn to her, and he tipped her face with his chin so that he could kiss her. His tongue ran along her bottom lip, asking for permission. Aelin gave it willingly, her tongue doing the same. She wanted more, she wanted everything. 

Just as eager, Rowan’s hands skimmed over Aelin’s breasts, heavy and nearly aching beneath the fabric. She wanted to protest at the lack of attention he paid them, she might have if Rowan’s tongue not flicked at the roof of her mouth at just that moment. But then his fingers stopped at the knots at her shoulders. 

“These have been distracting me all day,” Rowan said in between one kiss and the next. “Can I?”

The way Rowan asked for permission despite the frenzy of lust they found themselves was touching, but Aelin wasn’t going to bother to start a conversation about it and nodded. She could feel one of the knot’s loosening under Rowan’s fingers. It would have been easier to just slip it over her shoulder but what he’d said made her let him be. And if he kept kissing her like this along with that distraction, who was she to complain?

The pull of fabric on her skin disappeared entirely and Aelin knew he’d accomplished his task. Rowan let the fabric fall and when his hand met utterly bare skin he groaned, hand splaying on her collarbone. 

“I knew it,” he hissed onto the skin of her neck, his hand travelling lower in time with his kisses. 

“Huh?” Aelin managed, focus zoning on what his hand was doing. 

Rowan’s body shuddered as he cupped her bare breast, delicately catching the peak of it between his forefinger and thumb. “That it was just your dress holding these up.” His idle hand went to her ass and he squeezed. “Are you wearing anything under this thing?”

Aelin kissed just under Rowan’s ear so he could hear her whisper. “Why don’t you find out.”

In truth, Aelin did have underwear on but right now she was regretting not wearing something a little nicer. All it was was a beigey coloured thong, made for all day comfort. Not for an unexpected hookup with her authorial enemy. Rowan didn’t seem to mind though, his hand had travelled down her body and under the hem of her skirt. His fingers were tracing patterns over her thigh, inches away from finding out for himself what was hidden under her dress. All the while he pinched and rolled her nipple between his fingers, keeping her on edge. Finally his finger traced over the soft cotton of her underwear, starting on her hip and following it along the crease of her thigh. Her hips jolted forward when a finger skimmed over her clit, then lower.

Rowan groaned, resting their foreheads together as a knuckle dragging back and forth over her folds. “You’re soaked.”

The touching started to become the best kind of agonising, and Aelin was losing her patience. “Get on with it.”

“Aelin, that’s not you get what you want,” Rowan taunted, but his words didn’t match his actions. 

Not in the slightest as he pulled her underwear to the side and pushed a thumb on her clit. 

“Gods,” Aelin breathed, clinging to the man in front of her like a lifeline. “More.”

Rowan rubbed a slow circle around her clit and kissed her. What he was doing was driving her insane. Every touch was bliss, because Rowan gods-damned Whitethorn knew exactly what he was doing. He kept her right on the edge, playing with her to the point of just ready to break. Aelin reached for his belt, her hands weren’t gentle as he tugged the buckle loose and moved onto the fly of his pants. She could feel his hard cock straining against the dark denim. That broke the last of Aelin’s resolve—she was tired of playing. 

They both seemed to snap into a frenzy, Aelin yanking his shirt off his shoulder as Rowan attacked the other knot that held up the deep V of her neckline. Her chest was fully exposed now and the skirt of her dress was bunched at her waist. As Aelin looped her fingers into the belt loops of Rowan’s pants he pulled something from his pocket and slammed it on the bench beside her. They both worked to push his jeans down, Aelin making sure that his briefs went with them. 

He was glorious, her fantasies about him didn’t do him justice. There was a male kind of pride on his face when Aelin looked up at him with what might have been awe. She was going to wipe that look off his smug face. 

“Should I measure it,” she said, moving her arm towards his dick, forearm extended. But just when his appendage and her’s were about to line up she ran her fingers down the length of him, right down to cup his balls. 

Rowan bowed forward, keeping a grip on her hip and the other slammed down on the bench. Eyes down, he watched as Aelin worked him, his breath catching with every twist and pull. The sight of this man under her thrall was intoxicating—the tension in every muscle, pleasure rippling across his features. The fact she had been able to elicit this kind of reaction from him made Aelin moan as her core pulsed with need. 

“Stop, stop,” Rowan panted, putting a hand on her wrist. “Just… wait.”

“Oh?” Aelin said and released him. 

Rowan’s answer wasn’t verbal, instead his fingers traced a swirl on the inside of her knee. He didn’t linger there, only went higher and higher until he had hold of the waistband of her underwear and pulled them off. Aelin lifted her hips to help rid herself of them, scooting to the edge of the counter. Closer to Rowan. 

She went to reach for him again, but Rowan grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to the top of her palm before guiding it to rest behind her. Aelin had thought this was it. That Rowan would surge forward and fill her until she was screaming. She tried not to look too disappointed as a chaste kiss was pressed to her lips then her cheek. When those patient kisses reached her neck they changed, they were heavier, more insistent, full of heat as his teeth scraped across her skin. Aelin was so focused on the feeling of his lips, she didn’t know what his hands were up to until a finger softly teased her clit. 

Want rushed through her, pooling where Rowan’s hand began to tease with purpose. Aelin moaned, one arm kept her upright, the hand of the other dove into Rowan’s hair. That hold, with her elbow over his shoulder blade, became her anchor and the rhythm of Rowan stoking picked up. She was shuddering and gasping, lost in the feel of Rowan’s touch. When he slipped a finger into her, Aelin almost came undone. 

“That’s it,” Rowan whispered against her ear, nipping at it. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

“Oh gods,” Aelin gasped as the finger inside her crooked just right. “Rowan.”

“I’m right here.” He pressed and circled down on the apex of her thighs. “And I want you to come.”

It was a command that Aelin was powerless to ignore. Her core tightened and then the tension broke, she rolled her hips through the waves of pleasure taking over her body. All throughout Rowan whispered praises, kissed the flushed skin of her neck, rocked his fingers in a perfect motion to draw out her orgasm. Aelin felt boneless once she had caught her breath and she knew she must look a little dazed as she stared up into green eyes that were full of indecent intent and entirely self-satisfied.

“Does that answer your snide remarks about me not knowing how to please that bundle of nerves?” Rowan teased. 

“I’m going to have to admit I was wrong,” Aelin said. “It won’t happen again.”

That made him laugh, a short, pleasant sound that skittered across her skin. That sensation only intensified when Rowan angled her chin up to look at him. 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he declared and Aelin couldn’t help her eyes dropping to his cock that still jutted out of his jean. Hard and ready for her. The denim was quickly shed from the rest of his body. 

“I thought we’d never get there,” Aelin quipped and she inwardly kicked herself. Rowan had just rocked her world and was potentially going to do it again, and she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut. 

Rowan didn’t seem to mind though, he just kissed her and picked something up from the bench beside her. When there was a crinkle of foil Aelin opened her eyes to see a condom caught in between Rowan’s fingers and his wallet unfolded by her thigh. Surprised at the preparedness, and honestly just the consideration of it, Aelin’s stupid mouth ran her into trouble again.

“Hoping to seduce one of your fans back here?” She said and instantly regretted it. 

“You’re such a smartass,” Rowan said, mirth dancing in his words. “You’ll be thanking me for always being prepared soon enough.”

“Awful sure of your—“

Rowan cut her off with a fierce kiss, his hands pulling Aelin’s hips closer and nudging the head of his cock at her entrance. Anticipation hung in the air as Rowan waited, whatever for Aelin didn’t know. His eyes took in her face before he lent in, lips hot on her neck. Aelin shuddered, ready to beg if he didn’t do something, and soon. Rowan saved her that profound embarrassment. 

He kissed over her pulse point, tongue flicking. It was then he pushed in, pulling Aelin closer, and filling her with a single delicious stroke. Aelin threw her head back, moaning loudly in relief. Rowan felt utterly perfect inside her, even more so when he started to move. The thick length of him drove in and out, feeling good but from this angle it wasn’t enough. Aelin started grinding forward to meet him, their gasps and moans filling the room. 

“Aelin,” Rowan groaned as she kissed her way up his neck. “I need more.”

Aelin met his lips. “Then take it.” 

The only warning she received were Rowan’s hands tightening on her thighs, and then they were moving across the room. Aelin held on, a slightly delirious laugh escaping her as he carried her so effortlessly. Then she was lowered onto the couch, her bare back meeting the soft cushions. Aelin’s dress was still bunched around her waist but she couldn’t care less. Not when Rowan was looking at her like she was the centre of his world. And she supposed that in this moment he might be. He was braced over her, surveying her with unfiltered desire. 

“You’re beautiful,” his voice was nearly reverent.

“I know,” Aelin said, her irreverence equaled the esteem of his sentiments. 

He laughed, something that seemed out of place considering the situation they were in. “The correct response is ‘thank you’. We’ll have to work on those manners of yours.”

Aelin keened as Rowan thrust into her, a lazy and thorough pace. He took the care to slip a thumb between them, exposing her clit, allowing friction to hit it with every thrust of his hips. Under Rowan’s ministrations it didn’t take long for the hot coil low in Aelin’s stomach to tighten again, craving the release she knew Rowan was going to give her. He bowed, putting his mouth on her breast, pressing an opened mouth kisses in time with the bouncing from the sharp thrusts. When he sucked a nipple into his mouth Aelin cried out, her core fluttering. This was euphoric, Aelin would crave this every day for the rest of her life. 

“You’re close.”

It wasn’t a question but still Aelin answered. “Gods, yes.”

Rowan kissed her mouth again, licking in and teasing her tongue with his. Then he angled her hips upward, grinding on her clit more earnestly. He was on his way to outdoing every other man she had been with. He would ruin her and she’d thank him for it.

“Prove me right,” Rowan breathed onto mouth. “Tell me this is why you teased me.”

“It is,” Aelin said, a moan catching her words. “Gods, please don’t stop now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Rowan promised. 

Rowan gave her a hard thrust, followed by a steady drag of his hip and Aelin broke. Moaning his name like a prayer she allowed the pleasure to consume her wholly. She had little sense beside the feeling of Rowan driving into her over and over, heightening the peak of her orgasm. He didn’t last long after that, cursing as he came inside with hurried but thorough jerks of his hips. 

Aelin ran her hands over Rowan’s sweaty skin as they caught their breaths. He graced her skin with lazy kisses like he wasn’t quite done with her yet. Eventually he did pull away and out, walking across the room to dispose of the condom. Aelin fixed her dress and retied the knots on her shoulder. Without a mirror they must look a mess, but Aelin didn’t care. All her focus was going to the man who was dressing in front of her. 

“So, should we talk about it?” Rowan asked, picking his shirt off the floor. 

“I… what is there to talk about?” Aelin hedged. 

Rowan gave her a smile like he could read every one of her insecurities. “Maybe about how I’d very much like to do it again.”

“You would?”

Rowan left his shirt on the back of the chair and prowled over to her. She thought he might kiss her or pin her back on the couch, but Aelin was pleasantly surprised as he instead sat next to her and pulled her into his lap. 

“Why don’t we just admit that I like you and you like me, and we’ll go from there?” Rowan said, sweetly brushing hair out of her face. 

Aelin nodded enthusiastically, smiling as their lips touched. “Yeah, lets do that.”

They made out like teenagers, and it was just starting to get interesting when there was a knock on the door. They froze where they were, Rowan’s hand in her breast and Aelin’s mouth on his neck.

“Yes?” Rowan’s voice was strained.

“You have a panel starting in five minutes, Mr Whitethorn,” someone said through the door. 

“Thank you,” Rowan called back. “I’ll be right there.”

They both started laughing and Aelin stood. “They’ll be knocking on my door next and I won’t be there.” 

“Well, we have places to be,” he reminded, probably to them both. 

Aelin went over to the mirror and tidied herself up. She was flushed and she could only hope it would fade in the next five minutes, otherwise she’d be blaming the lack of airflow in the convention centre. Rowan came to stand behind her, sweeping a hand through his hair to make it neater and less like Aelin had been tugging her fingers through it. She turned, fixing his collar and kissing him once. 

There was a lot unsaid between them, but right now they had a job to do. Aelin wanted nothing more than to stay shut in here and have their own kind of fun.

“Come on,” Aelin said. “Once this is done, I’ll show some more things you’re right about.”

~~~~~

Fenrys checked his watch. The panel had started five minutes late apparently thanks to his two star authors. It was highly unusual for Rowan to be late, he tended to be early if anything. Aelin tended to be 50/50 on the matter. She was likely to appear just at the right moment after she’d worked everyone into a tizzy. It was quite a feat to be the manager of two authors who were such polar opposites. 

The host introduced them, and they both walked out on stage. Aelin gave the crowd a wave as they cheered, while Rowan just nodded politely. Unsurprising reactions from the two of them. What did surprise him was Rowan pulling out Aelin’s chair and tucking her in before he took his own seat. And there was the smile Aelin aimed at him. That was weird. Really weird. 

“What was that?”

Fenrys turned to see Lysandra who had appeared next to him. As Aelin’s publicist it wasn’t uncommon for her to be at these things, especially with how much of a firecracker her charge tended to be. 

“They were nice to each other,” Fenrys said lowly as the questions started. 

“Weird,” Lysandra concurred.

“Yeah.”

For a while they just watched the panel unfold and the host led the conversation. Aelin and Rowan did their job well, and for that Fenrys was grateful. It sure as hell made his job easier. 

“Aelin wasn’t in her dressing room, I wasn’t even sure she was going to turn up,” Lysandra muttered.

“Weird,” Fenrys said this time.

Lysandra hummed her agreement. 

The sound of Aelin’s bright laughter drew Fenrys attention and his mouth popped open when he realised she had been laughing at something Rowan had said. This was just progressively getting more confusing. 

“What… he’s not funny,” Fenrys whispered. “I would know, and Aelin knows. What the hell is happening?”

“What changed?” Lysandra added. “This morning she was ready to rip his throat out.”

Fenrys turned his attention back to the stage, just watching for further signs that his two authors who were self professed enemies were… friendlier. Giggling made him look away to a couple of fangirls just in front of them. 

“Look at them, they’re totally fucking,” one of them said.

The other tried to keep a lid on her laughter. “I swear he’s got a hickey.”

Fenrys’ eyes went wide and he turned to find Lysandra looking at him with a mirrored expression. 

“Nooooo,” Lysandra hissed. “When?”

“I…” Fenrys was too shocked and his brain scrambled for an answer. Then it hit him, loud and clear. “Right now!”

His voice was slightly too loud and drew some curious looks, he gave them an apologetic smile. 

“What?” The publicist demanded. 

“I saw them arguing,” Fenrys explained, recalling what he’d seen a little earlier. He’d been heading to Rowan’s dressing room to have a chat about his next publication date when he saw Aelin at his door, getting into another one of their spats. “I heard them arguing and I left them to it. I really left them to it. Because I came back later and heard some noises and thought maybe he was blowing off steam with one of the fangirls but, hey. Guess not.”

“Wow, good for them,” Lysandra said through quiet laughter.

A few moments of silence went by as Fenrys digested this turn of events and the complications it might pose for him. All and all it would be good, certainly a lot less tension in the room. 

“Did you know that Aelin hasn’t read his books?” Fenrys said, watching as Rowan sent Aelin a secretive smile that wasn’t all that secret in a room of one hundred people. 

Lysandra nodded with a wry smile. “Yeah, I keep telling her to. Maybe now she will.”

~~~~~

After the panel Aelin snuck away from Rowan and went to the booth that their publisher had set up. All his books were there and she bought every single one of them. With the animosity between the two of them well and truly burnt away to nothing this was the first task on Aelin’s list. She had avoided Rowan’s work out of stubbornness and spite, but now she was curious to see what he’s written. 

With a pile of books in her arms, Aelin returned to Rowan’s dressing room. He was seated on the couch looking at his phone and he looked up at the noise of the door snapping shut.

“What have you got there?” He asked, setting his phone aside. 

“I thought you could give me a private signing,” Aelin said. “The front page of each, please.”

“Is that so?” 

Aelin nodded, bottom lip tucked under her teeth. There was a small table beside the couch and she put the books there, pulling her gold pen out of her pocket. With it between two fingers she waved it in front of him, standing so she was between Rowan’s knees. 

“No matter what, keep signing,” Aelin told him, pressing the pen into his hand and then kissing him deeply. “No matter what.”

Rowan was breathing hard and Aelin’s hands raked down his chest and stopped at the waist of his jeans. 

“Grab a book, get started.” She popped the top button of his jeans only after he’d picked up the first book. “Now we can get started.” 

Rowan did well, despite the distraction. Every book was signed, but by the last one his signature was nearly illegible. Her mouth had been entertaining him while he signed and now while Aelin sat beside him so innocently inspecting his work it was very hard to ignore the very proud distraction for her. 

She tutted, determinedly glancing towards Rowan’s eyes. “Now you’ll have to start all over again.” 

Rowan was having none of that. The gold pen was tossed across the room and strong hands hauled her into his lap. Aelin laughed but that was quickly silenced by a growl and demand in her ear. “Later.”

When those hands began to wander, Aelin readily agreed. “Later.”

Maybe later she’d even tell him her wish had come true. 

~~~~~

Well... I think this might be my first official smutty oneshot. I hope it wasn’t half bad.

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash​ // @literary-licorice​ // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine​ // @highqueenofelfhame​ // @3am-reading​ // @soup-that-is-too-hawt​ // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore​ // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca​ // @sleep-and-books​ // @alifletcher2012​ // @westofmoon​ // @sleeping-and-books​ // @ttakeitbacknoww​ // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses​ // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen​ // @velarian-trash​ // @queenofxhearts​ // @heroesofterrasen​ // @highladyofstoriesandmusic​ // @empire-of-wildfire​ // @camerooonchiu​ // @crackedship​ // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books​ // @yourwhisperingshadows​ // @thesirenwashere​ // @tswaney17​ // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper​ // @cat5313​ // @judelovescardan​ // @flowerspringsea​ // @chaoticskyy​ // @the-regal-warrior​ // @fanfictrash3000​ // @blueeyes425​ // @starseternalnighttriumphant​ // @bamchickawowow​ // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda​ // @flora-and-fae​ // @thereaderandfangirl​ // @illyrian-bookworm​ // @chemicha​ // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd​ // @that-odd-puzzle-piece​ // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​ // @girl-who-reads-the-books​ // @hizqueen4life​ // @the-third-me​ // @1islessthan3books​ // @bestmelle​ // @cursebreaker29​ // @b00kworm​ // @superspiritfestival​ // @aesthetics-11​ // @maastrash​ // @mynewdreamwasyou​ // @the-last-apprentice​ // @charincharge​ // @firestarsandseneschals​ // @scarznstars​ // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships​ // @df3ndyr​ // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara // @booknerdproblems​ // @larisssss​ // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7​ // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10​ // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77​ // @jesstargaryenqueen​ // @anntheintrovert​ // @starbornvalkyrie​ // @loudphantomdragon​ // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth​ // @fangirlprincess09​ // @maddymelv // @sierrareads​ // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard​ // @rowaelinismyotp​ // @pullnpeeltwizzlers​ // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction​ // @gracie-rosee​ // @elriel4life​ // @rowaelinrambling​ // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis​ // @swankii-art-teacher​ // @grandma-noob-lord​ // @vanzetanze​ // @highlady-brittney​ // @story-scribbler​ // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren​ // @surielandiareendgame // @silentquartz​ // @live-the-fangirl-life​ // @whimsicallyreading​ // @goddess-aelin​ // @littleboxofthunder​ // @empress-ofbloodshed​ // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae​ // @charlizeed​ // @feysand-loml​ // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ // @alyx801​ // @amandaswallowtail​ // @louiseleblancdiggory​ // @abookishfreak // @danibutterr​ // @thegreyj​ // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream​ // @magnifique1807​

[alaskan-wallflower]

dude i hate the chubby kyle headcanon so much like i really hate it and it’s not because i have anything against chubby headcanons in general (i hc stan, butters, clyde, and sometimes bebe as being chubby) it just does NOT make any sense to me based on his actual character. he’s canonically very athletic. and as for the diabetes thing some of these people actually have no idea how diabetes works. he has TYPE 1 DIABETES and people with t1 diabetes are more often than not thin/underweight because they don’t produce insulin which converts glucose to energy and they can’t regulate blood sugar levels so instead their bodies burn fat and muscle rapidly for energy instead. also overweight people with t1 diabetes are at higher risk of developing serious heart issues and double diabetes, so i don’t think sheila would feed and spoil him to that point. little science lesson for you all. but lately i’m realizing i think the real reason i hate it so much because makes him look like and have the vibes of kyle schwartz who’s entire existence serves as an over the top stereotype meant to be a foil to kyle who is not a stereotype. why is chubby kyle is always fucking portrayed with some gayass sweatervest on. if people really desperately want their chubby, nerdy, IBS-having, sweatervest wearing, investment banker jewish boy kyle s. is RIGHT THERE. there’s also a million other jewish characters in media that are canonically portrayed that way so can we please just have this one. kyle s. even refers to kyle as a redneck jock!! which he isn’t of course but obviously it would seem that way to kyle s, who is everything this fandom tries to force kyle to be. god sorry for ranting, i’m lowkey expecting to get flamed in the notes but we ball

…honestly yeah. me as well.

i’m a bit of a biology nerd myself. it’s a special interest of mine. i have family with diabetes (albeit type 2) and my father is a diabetes specialist. so i believe i’m qualified to talk on behalf of the diabetes aspect. not only does it make more sense for kyle to be underweight but it’s also spreading the false narrative that everyone with diabetes is overweight when that isn’t the case. apologies for the upcoming ramble. but t1 diabetes is typically childhood exclusive. it’s diagnosed at a young age for the most part, especially as seen with kyle. type 1 means that no insulin is formed at all. like…none. like anon said. and don’t think i’m regurgitating what they said. i could literally write up a whole ass essay on how to write kyle’s diabetes and i will if you guys want. i think many people think of type 2 diabetes when writing kyle. the difference between type 1 and type 2 is that people with type 2 diabetes can actually make insulin. but it isn’t enough to fully cancel out the sugar levels in the body. type 2 is also more often than not a somewhat curable disease. you can get rid of type 2 in some cases. you can’t get rid of type 1. and yeah. like anon said. i think sheila cares more about kyle’s health than she does about spoiling him with food.

and yeah. i guess the argument that ‘Ph BuT hEs OnLy 7 lBs lIgHtEr tHaN cArTmAn’ but you can really only say that he’s overweight if you know his height too. they look to be the same height. but you don’t know his exact height therefore you can’t make a case for or against it. like comparing someone who’s 5’6’’ and 120 lbs and someone who’s 5’1’’ and 127 lbs has a BMI difference of more than 6 units. cartman could be shorter. it’s hard to say. but yes. i agree with anon. i hate the chubby kyle headcanon. flame me in the notes. i don’t care. leave anon alone though. shit on my behalf. not theirs.

also yeah . it’s stereotypical as fuck. it’s kinda gross at some point. i agree with anon tho about chubby butters and clyde. maybe stan too because his father insists on feeding him ‘rich kid food’ but yeah. they’re right about kyle s. too. kyle s. is right there. or there’s mort from family guy. go slap your based hdcs on them ig. leave kyle b. out of it. the stereotype that all nerds are chubby and weak is overdone especially when it’s done to the only jewish kid in the show (kyle s doesn’t exist in fanon clearly.

[talesofesther]

snowball to the heart

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You and Eddie try to make a snowman competition.

Requested by @tvserie-s-world

A/N: This story is part of my Christmas Special event.

Masterlist

"My snowman is so gonna beat yours."

The trailer park was a blanket of white, thick snow covering every spot of ground, courtesy of the heavy snowfall during the night — a night you spent sleeping soundly in your boyfriend's arms — that now made the perfect opportunity for the best snowman contest.

You scoffed at Eddie's words, "such a lie, mine is looking infinitely better, at least it's properly round," you told him, gesturing to your little snowman with a proud smile on your lips.

"Mine is bigger." Eddie argued.

"And messier." You grinned.

Eddie's dark sweatpants had multiple snowflakes stuck to them as he kneeled on the snowy ground, he had his tongue poking out as he adjusted his snowman's body, his nose and cheeks all rosy from the cold.

You could happily watch him be himself all day long.

You were so lost in thought, that you didn't see Eddie sneakily making a snowball, only noticing it way too late when it was already being thrown at you.

The cold ball hit you square on the chest, little bits of it seeping through your sweater and making you shiver. You gasped; "you did not."

Eddie laughed out loud, his head back as his hair fell in soft waves against his shoulders.

You tackled him to the ground, both of you a chuckling mess as you rolled in the snow, your clothes turning all white and damp.

Eddie ended up underneath you, a big smile stretching his pink cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath. His hair was sprawled under him like a dark halo mingling with the white snow and you really really wanted to have a camera with you.

Raising a hand to his cheek, you traced his jawline with your fingers, just before leaning down to peck his lips.

The response was immediate as Eddie's hands closed around your waist and pulled more firmly on top of him.

You parted when air became an annoying necessity. Eddie's nose brushed yours as he spoke; "I'd gladly stay here all day, sweetheart," he gave your lips one last peck, "but it's so damn cold."

You cursed under your breath, chuckling with a smile that mirrored Eddie's; "yep, get up, get up before you catch a cold."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog  @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @witchbinchstories @call-me-magpie

@loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @sweetpeapod @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees  @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh @andraimeide @esoltis280 @eddielives1986 @totallynotkaibiased @just-love-reading @murnsondock

[scarycranegame]

here's part 2 of my 50 follower special!! for people who've just joined us here, i present to you...

MY BEEFY DIE FANDOM OPINIONS MEME!! ft. an in-depth explanation of each entry

sorry for slightly off-model drawings, it was my first time drawing a lot of these guys so. bear with me LMAO

explanations under the cut!

favorite character:

okay you probably saw this one coming but. yes. the rumor come out. i enjoy yellow face immensely. and it's not just because hes a silly goober guy (even though he is that too); it's mostly because i think he fits my personal favorite character archetype of "morally dubious business guy who's at least a little bit mentally unstable" particularly well, specifically in the sense that he does it in a way that isn't the stereotypical "sophisticated mastermind bad-boy sexyman" schtick... like. he's weird. he's unapologetically weird. he's a very non-standard character design in a world of already unorthodox characters, and he manages to give off an ominous yet innocuous vibe without being too on-the-nose about it; and on top of that, the show doesn't even really take it too seriously, so it doesn't really overstay its welcome for me :) also i just think hes really cute lol

liked by everyone but me:

alright this is a really unpopular opinion.. i get why people like them, but i just. don't, personally. since x is in another entry i'm just gonna cover four here. for starters, i really don't like four's voice; it's the one "annoying" voice in the series that i just can't look past.. besides that, though, i feel like his redemption arc & sympathetic portrayal in post-split doesn't really make sense for his character? because he doesn't really seem to feel bad, and the rest of the characters just. instantly forgive him without any notion that he actually intends to improve as a person... and then he doesn't, because in tpo.t, he goes right back to hurting people the exact same way with absolutely no consequences or remorse; basically making that whole arc irrelevant. like.. something's not adding up here. either post split or tpo.t's portrayal is incorrect.

didn't like at first:

this one was kind of a tough choice for me because i don't remember ever genuinely disliking a contestant when i initially got into this show? but i can say that i did find gelatin to be kind of. annoying. and the best part is that it's for a really silly reason that, in retrospect, doesn't even make too much sense? like. okay i first got into this show in middle school, and my first ever season was b.fb, and when i first saw it i was a HUGE donut stan (part of me still is LOL); so when i saw him yelling at gelatin all the time i just sort of. inexplicably started disliking gelatin for absolutely no reason. literally that's it that's the whole reason i initially didn't like gelatin. anyways hes one of my favorite characters now and honestly i couldn't tell you why (also sorry hes. very poorly drawn in this image. it was my first time drawing a lot of these characters)

would like to know more about:

golfie!! i like her a lot; i related to her a bunch when i first watched the show (especially since my best friend at the time was basically a carbon copy of tennis ball), and i'm really intrigued by her need for constant control over everyone on any given team she's part of, and how she began her career in science/inventing! it seems interesting that more recent bfd.ia seems to make this dichotomy between her and tennis ball, suggesting that she's more skilled than he is and/or has been inventing things for longer than he has.. also ofcourse there's the whole science museum "bozo" debacle from i.dfb, which shouldn't come as a surprise in that it intrigues me just as much as everything else about her character... maybe that's why she's so obsessed with being in control? also who the hell was after her in that scene?

least favorite character

people are really not gonna like me for this, but i genuinely hate x with every fiber of my being LMAO.. while it is mostly for personal reasons, it's also because 1. much like four, i find his voice really annoying, and 2. he kind of. never really does anything. he's sort of just a plot device at best, and at worst he literally just stands there and does nothing. even when he's the host in b.fb 9, he's tragically inept and does nothing of note at all. he's barely a character without four around (he literally sits down and gives up in the last few episodes of b.fb), and it's really disappointing because he could've been an interesting character foil to four! but he just. wasn't. all he really was is a "cute uwu cinnamon roll".

like the design, dislike the character

okay this one's a little biased because i'm still mad that bomby was partially why yellow face got eliminated in bfd.ia 9, but besides that, i think a bomb character is a really good concept!! a contestant that's both useful in a practical sense and useful in terms of themselves as an individual!! ...too bad bomby is basically just 2 running jokes in a bomb-shaped trenchcoat. literally, as far as i'm concerned, the only time he's ever actually done anything is when he explodes; and besides that he's just sort of. there to fill up empty space (and also get yellow face eliminated that one time in the stupidest possible way). i get it, it's an object show, but i really would've enjoyed bomby a lot more if he had a distinct personality instead of being. well. little more than an object.

like the character, dislike the design

this one i also struggled with but i eventually settled on naily! in terms of her character, i think she's an absolute delight to watch, and she's one of the rare instances of a running joke not overstaying it's welcome and actually seeming charming and witty!! i think she's a good example of a quirky and cute yet mischievous character, which i see a lot of people attempting to do with characters of their own and missing the mark just a little bit. in short, she really does nail it in terms of characterization!! the only gripe i have though is her design.. something about how her legs are kind of. behind each other. and how her face/head is just. flat. it really doesn't sit right with me.. and i don't even really know how i would change it! it's just.. slightly offputting to me.

similar personality

ironically (due to my previous entry), i think that the character i'm most like in terms of personality is price tag!! i consider myself to be pretty expressive and upbeat (or at least, i try to be a lot of the time; if i get too stoic i tend to get sad and that kinda results in a Not Great Time™), and as you might've been able to tell by the things i do here on this blog, i'm just a bit mischievous. a little bit silly. one might even say devious. but what you don't know is that in most situations where there's a bit of a problem, i tend to try and think of the most creative but rational solution (doing so, as far as i'm aware, results in a higher chance of compromise among others)! (also, yes, i can indeed do the :3 face)

fav ship

i've been a fries/puffball enjoyer since day 1, i'm not even gonna lie here LMAO.. to be fair, i enjoy a lot of other ships very immensely, too, but something about the fact that they seem to respect each other as equals and be on the same page a lot of the time just really gets me... like. they give power couple vibes; instead of trying to gain some sort of leverage over the other or reveling in the leverage they might already have over the other, they seem to decide to be strong together and sort of. combine their strength. and yeah i know people are gonna argue "b-but c.oinpin!!" well what about the bfd.ia thing from tpo.t 2. they never actually resolved that. dont even get me started on f.ireafy (someone else made a really good post on them) or t.engolf ("gb always said it was handy to treat your friend like a tool!!!") p.uffries forever lol

least fav ship

oh this one's biased as hell because. you know how i am about yellow face. but i actually have a legitimate reason to dislike y.ellowclock besides that!! okay so i made an analysis document that i've never released here regarding yellow face as a character, and while making that document i noticed that. during tpo.t 2, when clock is bitching about winner leaving to go recover bottle, yellow face backs away, which, to me, implies that he's. kinda sick of clock's shit. he doesn't wanna deal with his and winner's drama. and then in tpo.t 3 he straight up says clock is a boring person. and yeah people cite that episode as like. y.ellowclock genesis or whatever. but then if that was true then what the hell is up with yellow face in tpo.t 10? he still doesn't seem to care about clock and winner!! honestly it just never made any sense to me..

would befriend irl

okay im gonna be honest. i really like two as a host.. i liked them from the beginning!! even when they were kinda snarky and condescending, they were a lot nicer than four, and were even willing to give up their power as a prize for a silly little contest!! and that's not even mentioning their dynamic with gaty and their sympathy towards clock in tpo.t 7.. just. they genuinely seem really generous and caring and i think they'd be really cool to hang out with and talk to... coincidentally they're also one of my favorite characters (and my favorite host as well) so that's a plus also; 10/10 would help them plan the next beefy die season

would never befriend irl

even though i love blocky with all my heart as a character, i don't think i wanna be involved in potentially lethal pranks... it would either end in him killing me or both of us going to jail forever.. or, alternatively, if i tried to go the "i can fix him" route, i'd end up paying an ungodly amount of money for his therapy bill (i doubt he'd pay with his own money, even though his show probably makes a lot of money lmao) and then just never get paid back... or, alternatively, i'd end up in the same boat as woody when he joined the blocky corporate conglomerate (at least, prior to b.fb 29.. actually i feel like i should mention that i'm talking specifically about blocky pre-split and back, he actually seems pretty okay in post-split)

...and that's it!!

it's been a wild ride (and a pretty long one too) but i really hope you enjoyed reading this, even if you have different opinions from mine! again, thank you all so much for getting me to 50 followers; i'm so grateful that all of you have decided to tune in to the nonsense words that i post every so often, and i hope you'll stick around long enough to see the next milestone special!! <3

[agentnico]

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024) review

Apes without Caesar are not strong!

Plot: Many years after the reign of Caesar, a young ape goes on a journey that will lead him to question everything he's been taught about the past and make choices that will define a future for apes and humans alike.

The Planet of the Apes reboot trilogy is genuinely a solid collection of well made films. Rise, Dawn and War of the Planet of the Apes are a perfect example of how tell an enticing science fiction story, with truly incredible life-like visuals and really thought provoking. And of course Andy Serkis’ lead mo-cap performance of the ape Caesar is truly phenomenal and his messiah-reflective character arc is really investing to behold. Mind you these films put Matt Reeves and Michael Giacchino on the map - one a successful director and another an accomplished film composer. That being said, War for the Planet of the Apes felt like a proper finale to the Caesar story, and though it did leave room for possible continuation, I felt satisfied with the way it ended. But naturally these films are money-makers so it was only a matter of time before the Hollywood sequel machine did its thing and another movie came to me. Enter Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

Brought to us by Wes Ball, who’s most known for directing those Maze Runner films, arguably the last of the 2010’s YA movie trend. And like the Maze Runner movies are fine. They were okay for what they were but nothing special, and nothing that gave indication that Wes Ball was gonna be the next big thing. And with Kingdom, though there are some wonderful shifts and the apes design by Weta once again is a stand-out, this movie’s look didn’t impress me as much as the previous films. Again, solid visuals, but not groundbreaking. With the Andy Serkis apes movies, every new entry of that trilogy felt like a step-up visually from the previous, with War honestly looking scarily realistic, making me wonder if Serkis simply underwent heavy surgery to make himself look like an ape. You know, similar to that young Frenchman on Instagram who went viral for undergoing extreme body modification procedures to make himself look like an alien. Honestly, I’m not even kidding, this guy exists - look it up! Regardless, in Kingdom we don’t see that visual progression. Again it looks good, but it didn’t flabbergast me in its realism.

Biggest issue though is the script. The first half of this movie truly was boring! The pacing was off, and aside from the main new hero ape all the characters weren’t at all that interesting and there’s no one I cared about. As for the story itself, it feels like a lesser retread of the same ideas and themes of the previous trilogy. There's nothing really new here. You've already seen a better version of this movie before. The second half does ramp it up a little and there’s a little more energy and a sense of direction, but again it feels like walking on familiar territory. The main antagonist could have been really cool, played by the way by that buff Elon Musk lookalike who was in Abigail earlier this year. The idea of a cult-like warlord obsessed with human history, there's so much they could have done with that idea. But he simply doesn't have enough scenes to really make him anything more than Koba Part II. And Koba had better motivations and more complexity.

Oh, and the music score is pretty generic and forgettable. Really disappointing, because I loved the music from the other movies. Caesar's theme is so good. Nothing here comes close. I’m not going to lie Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes does not inspire confidence in these movies continuing without Caesar’s presence. I mean his shadow is all over this movie, but it only makes you miss the times he was there. This isn’t necessarily a bad movie, it’s just a massive downgrade from what this franchise used to achieve. Oh, and by the way the deus ex machina eagles from Lord of the Rings have come over to the apes to save the day this time, and look I’m the last person to bash on Lord of the Rings, but those eagles just swooping in to save the characters whenever Tolkien got stuck out of ideas was the one ultimate convenient get-out-of-jail-free card and it’s not something I wished for other franchises to copy. So shame on you Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, shame on you!

Overall score: 4/10

[pinksaphira11]

Ep 1 Frightened Corpse

(would put a link to the video here but everyone has different ways of being able to watch it so the way I watch it might not be the way you could watch it, sorry)

Honestly feels like it’s a pretty good intro to the show. Introduces us to important knowledge of how some things work and gives us an intro to the two most important characters in the show. Don’t have much to say about it tbh.

Love the little bits of worldbuilding we get with just a few lines of dialogue. Some people were talking and gave us the info that this station probably survives off supplies from other stations and that there is a front line of some sort. Again, worldbuilding with just a few lines that let us know the kabane’s heart cage, which seems to be the main problem in killing them. More worldbuilding! Get an idea of who Ayame is from just a few words and how the guy in charge is treating her. We also get an idea of what she is like from how she acts here and you already start to feel like you might really like her. Ikoma gives us a little more of a look inside his own head and his question of where she’ll be pointing the gun feels important, especially after that intro scene we saw where everyone was freaking out. (tbf for good reason but still- coulda been handled better.)

We get that little nugget of info that there are two hayajiro’s coming today and then, again, we get a bunch more worldbuilding! We get to find out about inspections, what they do if they find a  wound, and that they clean the hayajiro, as well as the fact they think it’s a curse and the knowledge Ikoma collects body parts cause he knows it’s not a curse but a virus. (But he’s also breaking the rules by collecting them. XD For science!) Fun little intro to Mumei here, which shows us that yes, some people can get special treatment but that it seems to be rare. And then we come to the scene where everyone freaks out and Ikoma is the only one to stay level headed and actually want to follow the rule they put in place. Hope those bushi felt bad for shooting the guy after that. Love how Ikoma calls them out on it. Unfortunately ends up with Ikoma locked up though, just cause Kenshou is a paranoid jerk. I like how it shows that Ayame does not agree with how her father handled that. Goes further to show she’s a good person. :)

‘It’s June. Almost time brother.’ A seemingly throwaway line that foreshadows something later, something that I’ve seen people claim came out of nowhere even though it’s foreshadowed in the first episode. People can still not like that event, that’s fine, but it’s false to say it came out of nowhere. In fact we get a bit of a glimpse at the kind of person her brother is with her saying her brother gave her the name Mumei, which essentially means nameless. But her questions also give us a bit more of a look at Ikoma’s mentality and honestly I find myself agreeing with him. Obviously not easy to do, particularly in a zombie apocalypse, but it would improve things for sure.

I like how we then get a little look at how Takumi and Kajika feel about what happened, and although Takumi is saying Ikoma was an idiot you kinda get the feeling that, more than anything, he’s just worried for his friend. And thennnn things go to hell in a handbasket. This does give you a bit more worldbuilding though, showing that they use whistles to communicate. It looks like a kabane is just leaning on the person still attached to the whistle so while I believe it’s probably just a coincidence that that happened it could be possible that the kabane was smart enough to figure out the right whistle sequence to get them to lower the bridge. Honestly, as tragic as it is to have the kabane get into a station, it’s kinda fun knowing this is where things kick off, cause with this sorta show you know there’s gotta be some sort of inciting incident that gets the ball rolling on the plot.

Nice to see that Ikoma knows how to lockpick though, so he just instantly busts himself outta jail. XD And then starts running towards the horde cause maybe Takumi was right in thinking he was a little crazy. XD Do wanna say, everytime I see the little girl grabbing her toys I get frustrated, cause sure she’s just a kid but at the same time she got her mother and herself killed by taking too long. Another look at how Kenshou is a jerk cause he decides that they’re just gonna up and leave without worrying about the people at all. Little more lore in that kabane react to blood, but I never understood why Ikoma had to cut himself so deep. I always wince here, like man probably not a good idea to be bleeding that much. Btw, I got a theory that the kabane that follows Ikoma's trail is a wazatori. It’s holding what looks to be a cleaver and instead of following the trail through the door like you feel a normal kabane would, that’s where the trail directly goes, it instead goes through the roof, as if to ambush him. Doesn’t feel like normal kabane behavior. It’s quite cleverly done too, cause the shot makes it look like it’s just getting that moment of him being ready before it’ll switch to it coming through the door, but it surprises us by showing it breaking through the roof instead. Just feels like a clearly done shot. It is nice to see Ikoma get his moment of victory. Right before he sees the bite and, despite it being a dire situation, I always laugh at the face he makes. XD And if you wanted the moment where the kabane jumped on him you can actually see the blood splatter of him being bit, which was a fun detail to notice. This show is all about details man, I love it.

Tbh, idk how to feel about Shimon dying here. For reasons you will understand later. I will explain it then. ‘May karma smile upon you’ feels like a nice way to send someone off though. Then we get the switching between Mumei and Ikoma as the music swells (gosh the music!) and get to see Ikoma hurting himself (with some very painful looking things, yeowch) in a desperate attempt to save himself while we get to see Mumei be awesome and kick a kabane’s head off. It’s interesting to note that it seems everyone’s first time watching, when Ikoma lifts his head after stopping the virus is the first time his shock of white hair is noticed, but if you go back later and are paying attention you can see his hair start to change color in a close up shot earlier and everything was so chaotic and nerve wracking you just didn’t notice it at the time. XD And also a nice little look into why Ikoma has that mentality and into his backstory. Oh, you also probably want to skip the end credits if you don’t want spoilers btw. I’ll let you know when it’ll no longer have spoilers for things. This was just, a banger of a first episode. Like holy wow you do not want to stop after this. I think I got lucky and got introduced to the series when it had two episodes already so I at least didn’t have to wait for the second one. You guys are all lucky cause you don’t have to wait at all, it’s all available to watch already. ^.^ But man, I was hooked. All the fun worldbuilding and all the characters and ideas it was presenting; made it feel like it had so much potential and that this was gonna be an awesome show. They really knew how to get me interested.

[fanficwritersworld]

Fatal Love

Summary: The real reason Nora is working with Thawne. based on episode 18 of season 5

Pairing: Nora West-Allen x Ramon!Reader

Requested: by @neothegayturtle Hope you like it, went a little off sorry.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: blood, metions of death and dying, barry allen salt

A/N: i kinda wanted to write more but didn't want to get carried away. if anyone wants a part two let me know

Masterlist|Prompt List

Team Flash were quick to open Nora’s journal. While the writing was unreadable to them without the quantum computer. But Barry had seen glimpses of the English written notes and pictures. That’s when they saw one picture in particular. It was a girl they had never seen before. She was smiling brightly as she held up a degree in her hands.

Nora sat in the cell, her sobs echoing around her and she curled into a ball in the corner of the cell. She failed. She failed to stop him and now her father hates her. If only he knew the real reason behind her forced alliance with his worse enemy. If only she had told him about her. About (Y/N) (L/N).

“Has Nora ever mentioned a (Y/N) (L/N)?” Iris questioned, not remembering the name. “No, anything in her journal?” Barry asked, looking up at Cisco. The man search through the entries, and almost every one of them mentioned her” Cisco looked in shock. “What’s so special about this (Y/N) kid?” Ralph asked out loud. Sherloque pulled up a specific entry that he thought Team Flash might need to hear. “It started with music…”

2039 - Central City

Eighteen-year-old Nora walked into her senior prom. She wore a simple lilac dress to her knees with some white gold accents. Her hair was curled as she wandered around. It was normal enough in the future to go to prom alone, Nora slightly wished she didn’t go at all.

She sat by the stage, listening to the band that her school had hired. Even in this decade, real music done by people was very appreciated after the whole A.I fiasco in the 2020s. “West-Allen, what’s got you so blue?” a voice called out from behind her. 

(Y/N) (L/N)

She was Nora’s science partner that year. They didn’t talk much but Nora kinda wished she did. You weren’t wearing any formal wear, just your favourite outfit and a nice jacket. You held a guitar as you decided to sit next to Nora. “I hate these things. I’ve been going to the Policemen Balls since I was a kid so I never really looked forward to these things” Nora explained, shrugging her shoulders. “Well… Nora West-Allen, wanna join me on stage?” You asked very fancily.

Nora rolled her eyes. “I don’t play or sing” She told you. “I’ve seen you listen to music West-Allen, drumming your fingers to the beat as you use everything around you like a drumkit” You told her, pulling her up to stand next to you. Nora blushed at your observation. “I haven’t played in years” Nora tried to lie her way out only for you to put a pair of drumsticks in her hands.

“Come one pretty girl, your playing with me” You told her before dragging her onto the stage.

2019

“So (Y/N) was Nora’s girlfriend” Caitlin spoke, reading the rest of the entry. Everyone was shocked, why hadn’t Nora said anything? That’s when a breach opened up in the middle of the cortex. Stepping out from it was…you. “I still am, where is Nora?” You asked, glaring at Barry. “Look, (Y/N) Nora is-” Barry started to explain before you put your hand up to stop him. “Working with Thawne, yeah I know” You finished, not wanting to deal with your girl’s paranoid father. “She’s doing it for me. Thawne is the only one who could help Nora time travel to help me” You told him, yanking the journal you gifted Nora from his clutches. “Why? What happened to you?” Cisco asked you.

“My powers… I was corrupted by the dagger. Nora’s trying to destroy it so save me” You explained to them, only for Barry to scoff at your problem. “How do we know you’re not the one that put Thawne in Nora’s head” He questions you, walking up to you with his arms crossed. “‘Cause I’m like Nora…a kid from Team Flash. (L/N) is my birth mother’s name. My full name is (Y/N) (L/N)- Ramon, daughter of Vibe” You told him, turning a pin on your jacket. With pixelated cubes, your outfit reveals a more feminine version of Cisco’s suit with his goggles placed on top of your head.

“And it’s time you see the real story” You told them all. Raising your hands above your head, you released a dark (F/C) breach wave before slamming it onto the ground. Everyone's eyes began to glow (F/C).

2049

Nora and her best friend Lia sat at their desk in CCPD’s CSI Lab. You walk in with two big bags of Belly Burger. “I brought the food now spill. What requires my expertise” You smiled, kissing Nora’s cheek and you put the food on the table. “Someone’s stealing chemicals” Nora explained, handing you the police report. “Your girlfriend thinks it was a speedster” Lia snickered, making Nora stick her tongue out.

You gave your girlfriend a ‘really’ look as you closed the file. “I remember some of these chemicals from one of my Papa’s old cases, I’ll ask Joe if I can get access” You told her, seeing Nora looking at her board with her mom’s most famous article. ‘FLASH VANISHES IN CRISIS’ and the last case her father ever had and failed to solve…‘WHO IS CICADA'

“Hey pretty, how about we get those files together?” You offered, placing your head on her shoulder. Nora nodded with a soft smile before bidding Lia farewell. You and Nora walked into the old storage room, searching for the files from 2016. “So how’s Mama Iris?” You asked Nora, closing another drawer. “God, she’s coming back from Keystone tonight. Seemed nervous on the phone though” Nora answered, flipping through the files. 

“You know speedsters haven’t been around since the Flash disappeared right?” You changed the conversation. Nora looked at you with a slightly annoyed face. “(N/N), I know it’s weird that I want to find out who Cicada is but-” You cut the girl off. “It was the only case your dad couldn’t solve and you feel like solving it will bring you closer to him” You finished with a sympathetic look. Nora slumped as you walked over to her.

“I know it’s hard, my mom bailed around the same time but you got Mama Iris and I have my Papa. And we’ve got each other” You told her, kissing her temple. You knew one of the many reasons they asked for your unique expertise was so Lia could get you to talk Nora down when she got a little ‘excessive’. Your gauntlet pinged, you opened the message. “Lia’s got the security footage” You told Nora before you both ran back to their lab.

Nora was right. A speedster with white lightning was stealing chemicals. Let’s just say Lia will not be allowed to forget that for a long time. Now you and your girlfriend were in the Flash Museum looking for evidence about a white lightning-clad speedster. You felt slightly uncomfortable in the room, the reverse flash display made your heart stop.

“Any luck babe?” You asked Nora as she finished the first display. But by then all the monitors showed the closing signs for the museum. “Shrap!” Nora scolded herself as Mr Myles spoke on the intercom about closing. “Also Nora West-Allen please call your mother is calling you and (Y/N) (L/N) wish your abuela happy birthday” Mr Myles spoke after his usual announcement. You both had a minor heart attack by this and were quick to call your relatives.

 Nora walked ahead of you as you dial your Abuela’s archaic phone. “Hola abuela, feliz cumpleaños... Lo siento Nora y yo estamos en el trabajo... No, aún no he preguntado ... Dile a papá que traeré la cena... La abuela deja de preguntar ... Perdón por mi tono te amo demasiado adiós” You hung up quicky, seeing Nora pressed against a wall.

“Querida? You okay?” You asked her. Nora looked at you with a defeated smile. “I’m okay, Lia has someone at OLLINS who can help with why the speedster is stealing the chemicals” Nora changed the subject. You stopped her from moving away, “Nora, you can talk to me” You told her. “I know” Nora smiled, kissing your cheek.

The scientist at OLIINS told you three that whatever the speedster was using the chemicals for, they could only be used based on a structure. “Total bust” You kicked air as you three walked out. “We can’t wait for another lab to get hit” Nora told you both. That’s when a bright flash of white passed you three, knocking you onto the floor. Nora was quick to help you up.

“Holy Shrap!” Nora and Lia squealed, running back into the laboratory. The scientist was on the floor as the speedster stood before them. He was silent, his eyes were covered by the black holes of his mask. You were quick to stand in front of Nora and Lia. “Oh my God” Nora gasped. 

“Yes, I am a God” The speedster spoke menacingly. “The God of Speed” He snarled, lightning manifesting from his palms. “Girls go!” You shouted, holding your arms out to block them. Lia ran but Nora stayed put. “Nora go!” You shouted at her.

It was too late, you both were thrown back into the shelf behind you, breaking the glasses filled with chemicals. The last thing you did was reach out for Nora, “Queri-” You tried to speak before your eyes shut.

You could hear…Lady Gaga? You opened your eyes, feeling lightheaded as you tried to sit up. “I knew an oldie would do the trick with you two” Lia smiled, turning off the music. “Don’t freak out but you're in a hospital. Me for this burn and you too for passing out” Lia explained, Nora stayed calm while you were the first to panic. “No, no, no hago dos cosas. Hospitales e insuficiencia cardíaca” You rambled, jumping out of the bed. You went straight over to Nora, making sure your girlfriend was ok. “ Mi vida, are you okay? I can call the best doctor in the country if you don’t feel okay” You asked her, checking her temperature with eh back of your hand. “You know the best doctor in the country?” Lia rolled her eyes, thinking you were exaggerating. You looked at her seriously. “Yeah, she’s my godmother” You answered before Nora decided to sit up.

“Baby I’m fine. I feel fine actually, my fingers are a little tingly but other than that I feel good” Nora told you, resting her head on your shoulder. “And you (Y/N)?” Lia asked. “Dunno, I feel like someone of blasting music right into my veins. It’s a vibe” You answered, rubbing Nora’s shoulder. “Good, I was so worried. The doctor said you were hit with 500 billion Jules of lightning…so don’t get mad” Lia slightly cringed before the doors opened up.

An older-looking Cisco Ramon. His hair was tied back loosely with a few thick strands of grey. He wore a nerdy jumper as he ran towards you. “Mi hija! Estás bien? Estás herido? Necesito llamar a tu tía Caity?” He asked you, holding your face in his hands.

“Papá, estoy bien, realmente no hay necesidad de llamar a la tía” You told him, giving Lia a side eye. Your dad had enough worries to supply the nation. “Gracias a la fuerza” He sighed, kissing your forehead. “Um, Mr Ramon the doctors need you to fill out some forms” Lia spoke up timidly. Cisco nodded before bidding you farewell.

“Chica, first you call my Papá and you then kick him out?” You raised your eyebrow at the blonde. “Yeah because while Mrs West-Allen is nonstop calling me, I didn’t tell your parents about these” Lia was careful as she held up two glass cylinders with a burnt-out metal thing in each.

“What are those?” You asked, taking one in your hands. “Piece of shrapnel maybe? They had to use the defibs on you both. When they did they found those underneath the scars on your shoulders” Lia explained. 

You stood up, recognizing the piece of metal. “I need to talk to my Dad!” You shouted before running out of the room. You ran up to your father the cylinder in hand. “Papá!” You called out grabbing his attention. The second you grabbed his arm, you zoned out. You could see Vibe fighting in the past and your Dad being killed by a speedster. You gasped as you let go of your father, dropping the cylinder. Cisco caught it before it reached the floor. Cisco looked at you with worried eyes as blood trickled down your nose.

“Mi hija, hay algo que debes saber”

The entire vibe stopped, everyone was back to seeing STAR Lab’s cortex. You however didn’t look too good as you dropped onto the floor, blood gushing from your nose and the corner of your mouth. “Long…story short. That speedster killed our friend. My powers were affected by the remains of the dagger causing me to be like this. She’s only working with Thawne to save me. As long as that dagger is intact, the more my powers will hurt me. But that’s not why I came here” You coughed up blood, struggling to get up. Cisco went to help you, seeing his kid from the future hurt because of him.

“Why did you come back?” Iris asked you as you struggled to stand. “To stop her. That dagger is the only thing keeping Thawne in his cage. I can’t let her choose me over everyone else” You told her, coughing once more.

Nora hated the dark. Ever since she was a kid. But with you, it made the darkness more bearable. You would hum lullabies your Abuela taught you, holding Nora safe in your arms as she listened to your heartbeat. Now, you were going to die because of her.

The sounds of her cell being brought forward took her thoughts as the light began to seep through. Barry and Cisco stood in front of her, solemn faces as she stood up. “Are you gonna send me home?” Nora asked her father, who still had a look of disappointment on his face. Barry didn’t speak as he opened the cell, making Nora tilt her head. “Dad what ar-”

Nora found your face, a soft smile as you looked at her with tears of joy. “Mi amor” You spoke softly as Nora used her speed to run into your arms. You held Nora tightly, burying your head in the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry” Nora sobbed, clinging to you as her own life depended on it.

“It’s okay mi amor, it’s okay” you told her, kissing her head as you held your crying girlfriend

Translations:

Hola abuela, feliz cumpleaños... Lo siento Nora y yo estamos en el trabajo... No, aún no he preguntado ... Dile a papá que traeré la cena... La abuela deja de preguntar ... Perdón por mi tono te amo demasiado adiós - Hello grandma, happy birthday… Sorry Nora and I are at work… No, I haven't asked yet… Tell Dad I'll bring dinner… Grandma stop asking… Sorry for my tone I love you too goodbye.

Querida - Dear

No, no, no hago dos cosas. Hospitales e insuficiencia cardíaca - No, no, I don't do two things. Hospitals and heart failure

Mi vida - my life

Mi hija! Estás bien? Estás herido? Necesito llamar a tu tía Caity? - My daughter! Are you ok? Are you hurt? Do I need to call your Aunt Caity?

Papá, estoy bien, realmente no hay necesidad de llamar a la tía - Dad, I'm fine, there's really no need to call Auntie

Gracias a la fuerza - Thank the Force

Chica - Girl

Mi hija, hay algo que debes saber - My daughter, there's something you should know

Mi amor - my love