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#Am Underwhelming with this edit

manuscripts-dontburn · 2 years

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Can somebody put out some stunning special edition of The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenster?

Because I´m gonna obliterate my old edition with annotations and scribbles this Christmas & will need another one.

That book saved my sanity two Christmases ago.

Time for a re-read.

#all around I am seeing so many special editions of books that I found underwhelming #give me this one please #The Starless Sea #booklr #musings

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lurkingshan · 4 months

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Some scattered thoughts about DFF episode 10

This episode was shorter than usual and it felt like it. They are clearly holding back all the big action (and the bloodbath) for the final two episodes.

The editing of Phee's confession to Jin was a bit confusing, but I think it was clear he is just assuming Tan is the one who did all those things when he wasn't around. He doesn't actually know.

Speaking of, Phee has now entirely betrayed Non and New, and he is definitely gonna die for this disloyalty.

I really appreciated Jin clearing up for the audience that he was in fact the one who released the video of Keng and Non. He's a POS just like the rest of them.

I was underwhelmed by the way Phee and Jin's confessions to each other played out. We needed more than one (1) minute of very muted angst before they just moved on. And given how short this episode was, it feels like we should have had another beat there.

White my child I love you but whyyyyy do you keep sticking that gun in your pants and letting Fluke get the jump on you this is getting embarrassing.

I couldn't focus in that big confrontation scene because me and @twig-tea were trying to figure out if White was squatting to look so much shorter than Fluke (BTS reveals: YES HE WAS LMAO).

The way these boys keep trying to get self righteous with each other about what they each did when they are all trash is real cute.

We got confirmation from Phee that White is not involved in his and Tan's plan, and from Tee that White didn't know about what he did. I still think he's innocent, but there is a possible remaining twist that he met Non and is helping him, because...

NON IS ALIVE. He definitely survived the rooftop, and we know he saw Tee again in what looks to be around the same timeframe that White started hanging out with Tee.

Bye Top! Do not RIP!!

I am on team Non, New, and White, and I hope the rest of these boys get axed.

#dead friend forever #dff the series #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

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minustwofingers · 6 months

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love is a laserquest p.2

series masterlist (read p1 here!)

pairing: rockstar!ellie williams x reader

request: @thatgiraffefromtlou so kindly included me on a post about writing something inspired by these beautiful edits :) thank you !

summary: after a serious of unfortunate events, columbia grad y/n y/l/n finds herself using her hard-earned journalism degree interviewing vapid stars and writing articles that she's convinced are rotting her mind. ellie williams has just dropped the album of the year and it's all anyone is talking about, but all she wants is to be off the press train. a certain interview with a certain interviewer might change this.

cws: explicit language, kind of suggestive phrasing? (i get a little feral with guitar playing descriptions), shitty bosses, mentions of nausea and throwing up (no one actually does tho dw), y/n is anxious asf, my writing is a little....yikes...in this one, loser!ellie

a/n: i lied i lied hehe. here's the next part. im still working on building this stupid app so i havent been able to write as much recently + holiday family stuff but oh am i back!

here's a playlist inspired by this fic

wc: 2.4k

tags: tags :) @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie@galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28 @diddiqueen @krisyslostsoul

enjoy mwah

It starts slow, like the drip of a broken faucet. It’s not like you’re actively seeking out anything Ellie William’s related, but somehow it seems like everything Ellie Williams related is seeing you out.

In the grocery store, one of her hit songs from her newest album blaring over the speakers.

On the street, where you see crumpled pages of magazines with her face plastered all over them.

And—perhaps the most offensively—on NPR and the New York Times, quite literally days after you’d met her. Suddenly Steve Inskeep and Leila Fadel begin the Up First podcast with a familiar song and devote an entire third of the morning podcast to Ellie and her band’s rise to fame.

You decide to switch to the BBC World News for a while, but even they seem to be under her spell.

It’s not that you don’t like Ellie. She seems fine. Normal. Really cute, actually, and clearly very talented. But whenever you think about her, you think about the ill-fated, awkward, charmless interview.

“What happened?” Alyssa had asked you when she’d come back from surgery. “That wasn’t you out there.”

Which was actually very hurtful to hear, because you’d been holding onto the hope that you’d been all in your head about your interview being a failure. It all culminates in Eric, your 300 year old manager, sending you a strongly worded email that told you that your performance in the interview was so underwhelming that you were being pulled from the interviewer pool and exiled to article writing land. Which could be worse, you admit. You could be unemployed on the streets of LA. At least you’re still writing.

And write you do. You spend all your waking hours either at your keyboard, on your yoga mat, or sat in a chair somewhere at a local cafe for a coffee chat. You’ve mostly deleted social media, since all you see nowadays are pictures of Ellie and Becca’s posts about her experience working and loving her life in New York (the algorithm apparently knows exactly what you want to see the most).

It’s bizarre that, even as you try your best to place your focus on honing your craft and consuming only content that you think will make you a better writer, you still somehow learn everything and more about Ellie Wlliams and her band. It’s in the emails at work whose chains you’re CC’ed on. It’s in the advertisements and the billboards everywhere. It’s even in the conversations you have with your two roommates, Greta and Maureena.

“She’s so fucking cool,” says Maureena dreamily as you sit around the TV in the living room. “I still can’t believe you got to talk to her.”

“It’s not like I actually got to, like, get to know her or whatever,” you say. “It was honestly kind of dry. Just awkward small talk.”

“That’s more than anyone else I know can say.” She reaches forward and grabs a fistful of popcorn. “How come she gets interviewed by the person who probably cares about her the least in all of LA? Like, what are the chances?”

“I care,” you say, and it sounds unusually defensive coming out of your mouth.

Maureena gives you a long, suspicious look, but before she can respond, Greta comes bursting into the apartment, purse swinging from her shoulder.

A greeting is halfway out of your mouth when she cuts you off.

“You guys will not believe what I just did.” She’s nearly bursting with excitement, her eyes bright and wide.

“Like, in a good way?” you ask.

“Yes. Obviously!” Greta fishes around in her pocket until she pulls her phone out, waving it around. “Check your email.”

The last time Greta had come in with an entrance this energetic, she’d been coming to inform you both that she was getting engaged to her loser boyfriend Brian (which—thank God—didn’t actually last), so you and Maureena trade nervous looks.

Maureena gets to it first.

“Tickets to see Ellie Williams? Tonight?” Now she’s about to explode with giddiness, leaping from the couch and throwing her arms around Greta. “I love you, I love you, I love you. How did you get these? I thought they were, like, totally sold out. Or ten thousand dollars.”

She grins wickedly, holding her hands out in a “who knows” sort of way. “You can all thank me later. We have to leave in about 20 if we want to get there in time. Y/N, you good?”

You’d been staring on in horror, jaw dropped and body completely frozen. You had registered that Ellie was playing in LA tonight—it’s all anyone you knew talked about at work today—but you never once considered actually going to try to see her. “Uh, yeah. Give me just a few.”

By the time you get to the venue, you’re convinced that you might actually puke from the nerves. It’s ridiculous. It’s not like three broke 20 some year olds were going to get last minute seats to an Ellie Williams concert that were genuinely good seats. It’s not like she would see you and realize that the girl who flopped while interviewing her was a big enough fan to attend. You’re going to be fine.

“Shit, Grets, how are we so close?” asked Maureena as she leads you both closer and closer to the front.

Horror steadily rises within you as you approach the front row.

“I got these from my boss,” she says, turning around with a devilish glint in her dark brown eyes. “Her daughter got food poisoning, bless her. She had to stay back to take care of her, and I was the only one who stayed late to work, so…”

Greta’s boss was some filthy rich nepo baby who was a partner of a big talent agency. All of a sudden you feel stupid for not realizing this sooner.

“Shit,” you say, mostly to yourself. “Oh no. Oh my god.”

“Isn’t this so cool!” Greta jumps up and down, hands on your shoulders as she tries to rile you up. “Dude, what if she recognizes you?”

“I think I’m going to puke,” you say miserably. Somehow the thought of her seeing you made you want to crawl inside your skin in shame and hide for the next calendar year. “Did you guys not see how ass it was? I was so fucking awkward.”

“It wasn’t even that bad.” Maureena pats your shoulder.

“I literally was forbidden from ever interviewing again because it was so bad.”

“Because Eric hates women,” says Greta. “It’s not your fault he’s a horrible human being. Give it, like, a year or so until he croaks. Then they’ll let you back in the game.”

“Uh huh,” you say, feeling very harrowed.

You remain in this state of abject terror for the entire opener performance. The nausea doesn’t subside. It only gets worse when you realize that if you actually puke, Ellie’s definitely going to see it. Just like she’s going to see you, with the stupid stars Greta had insisted you paint on your cheekbones with glittery eyeliner and eyeshadow.

“She really likes space,” Greta had told you while you’d been getting ready, pretending like you didn’t already know all about this. “So all of her fans wear star stuff to see her.”

Before you can think to wipe off the glitter, everything goes black. Then the crowd goes wild.

When the silvery blue light spills onto the stage, it illuminates Ellie, standing just a number of feet away from you. You barely have enough time to take in the black leather coat and loose white shirt she’s wearing before music explodes out of the speakers, her fingers flying up and down the fretboard.

You’re spellbound as you watch her. Her voice rings loud and clear and slightly gravelly when it snags on her words. She’s nothing at all like the girl you’d met a month ago—there’s no discomfort, no awkwardness. She looks like she’s born to be on stage.

When the first song ends, she steps back, grabbing the standing mic next to her.

“Uh. Hi,” she says, and it’s so endearingly nervous compared to how she’d just sounded that something in your chest twists. She rubs the back of her neck. “I’m Ellie.”

Greta and Maureena join the crowd, screaming and cheering.

“I LOVE YOU!” someone shrieks, louder than everyone else.

“You know,” she says, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people reacting like this to me just, like, saying my name. It’s really fucking weird. Oh. Shit. Sorry. Are you guys okay with me swearing?”

The roar that comes from the crowd is entirely undecipherable.

“Right,” says Ellie. “Um. I’ll take that as a yes. Sorry to anyone who brought their kids or something. Anyway, this one’s about the ex who cheated on me and gave me mono.”

Before you can react to that, she starts playing.

As she proceeds through the setlist, you’re struck by just how close you are to her, how many things you can notice that hardly anyone else in the crowd can see. You see the outline of her phone in her pocket, the pieces of hair that have fallen out of her little half bun and are sticking to her face, the way that the glitter on her collarbones trails down her shirt in little rivulets.

And, above everything else, you can see the horrible way her fingers straddle the fretboard, curling and pressing with ease so practiced it looks tender.

Apart from this bad, bad development (you can feel your mind going a million miles an hour about things you should not be thinking about), things are going great. Ellie hasn’t noticed you. Or even looked in your direction. You’re not even sure she can see you, given how little light is shed onto the crowd. The false sense of security makes you feel comfortable singing along with Greta and Maureena, your lips forming the lyrics you’d been pretending to not listen to whenever her songs came on.

It happens during a slower song, a sort of ballad that makes your heart thud harder in your chest to hear from her mouth. The lights on stage dim a little. Light spills just the slightest onto the front of the crowd, and Ellie’s eyes fall and snap onto yours so decisively that it almost feels audible.

For a moment, you can’t breathe. Ellie’s voice suddenly catches mid-word, faltering and missing a beat. She thrusts her hand with the mic into the crowd, which eagerly picks up where she left off and finishes the verse.

It’s impossible to see on the screen projecting her image behind her, but you can see the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the stiffness that comes with realizing that you actually know someone from somewhere.

You’re the one who breaks eye contact, focused with a sudden intensity on the way the thin fabric of your sleeves are situated on your arms.

Greta pokes you so hard in your ribs that you gasp.

“What the fuck!” you snap, but the words are swept away by the noise around you.

“Why didn’t you wave?!” she hisses in your ear. “She totally recognized you.”

The realization falls over you with the subtlety of an anvil. Oh my god. You totally should’ve waved. That was the normal, well-adjusted thing to do. Now she was going to think you were weird. And it was too late now. But she didn’t wave to you. Wasn’t she supposed to wave first? Because you of course remembered her, but she might not remember you. Yeah. You could go with that.

Maybe she didn’t remember you.

You can’t relax for the rest of the concert. You try your best to just act normal and dance along with your friends and casually mouth the words, but it’s hard when it feels like she’s staring at you. Which is completely impossible. The light doesn’t fall back onto the crowd until the concert is over and Ellie and her band are long gone backstage.

Two months later, all you can think about is the way that Ellie stuttered over her words when she saw you in the crowd. Of course, this is definitely something you’ve made up in your mind, because there’s a number of reasons why she might’ve slipped up. Maybe she just thought she knew you from somewhere and couldn’t place it. That’s why she (allegedly) kept looking in your direction afterwards. Or maybe you’re completely batshit insane, and she didn’t look at you at all. Because if she had, wouldn’t she have waved? Right?

It’s almost bad enough to distract you from work. You find yourself prowling on Twitter, watching the #elliewilliams tag blow up following every concert date. It doesn’t give you any clarity, because in every picture, she looks just as perfect and cool and confident as she was at the LA show. You don’t know why you assumed she’d look different if it was true that she’d recognized you. More human, maybe. But she’s just as bathed in starlight as she was that night many weeks before, just as far away and untouchable.

You spend so much time thinking about her that you’re convinced you might’ve slipped into a dream when Eric appears at your cubicle with the news.

Instead of saying hello, he plops a stack of papers on the desk in front of you, all labeled “PopNow! Interview Etiquette”.

“Excuse me?” you say.

“Start reading up, kid,” says Eric. “You’re back in the game.”

“What?”

“You have an interview scheduled later this week.” He scowls down at you, gum smacking in his mouth. He smells faintly of tobacco.

“But I thought I was removed from—”

“You still are,” he says. “But someone requested you. Their manager told us they wouldn’t talk to us if they didn’t get you.”

“What?”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Believe me, I was surprised too. Don’t know what they’re on about after the last time you talked to their client. Fuck this one up and you’re out, okay? Got it? The info’s in your inbox already.”

Somehow the words don’t quite sink in until you open the email and see the words on paper.

SENDER: Maria Miller

RECIPIENT: Eric Bal

CC: [email protected], y/ny/l/n@popnow!.com

Eric,

Great to hear back from you. Glad that 3 next Wednesday works.

Best,

final a/n: lmk how u guys feel about this...feeling a little unsure about where this is going but enjoying writing it anyway there are two wolves inside of me etc. etc. also ive missed u all! i hope everyone is doing well! dont b shy!

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams fluff

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letomills · 7 months

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Download tops: SFS / Mega Download bottoms: SFS / Mega

An underwhelming titlecard for a pretty big set of tops and bottoms converted for Lifa / @withlovefromsimtown's trans AM body shape. All have fat and preg morphs, the recolors are BSOK'd.

Previews, details and credits under the cut.

The swatches below are purposefully widely shot to show examples of combinations with other pieces from the set. While the meshes are based on Lifa's trans AM full-body mesh, everything can also be combined with regular AM separates without waist seam issues.

Some of these pieces are enabled as athleticwear or formalwear. To be able to select separates for clothing categories other than everyday, please use Lazy Duchess's Separate4all mod.

The tops

All tops are on the same mesh with fat and preg morphs. Polycount: 1,220.

1. Illenlan T-shirts

Categorized as everyday & athletic.

Textures are these by @illenlan + mashed up with this tee by @spell-bloom for the "hentai" recolor.

2. Bruno Paul Frank Tees

Categorized as everyday & athletic.

Textures by Bruno.

Gelydh Gothic Tops

Categorized as everyday.

Textures by Gelydh.

Xandher Weekender Casual Tops

Categorized as everyday.

Textures by Xandher.

Xandher Weekender Cutoff Tops

Categorized as everyday.

Textures by Xandher.

Xandher "First Date" Shrug Set

Categorized as everyday & formal.

Textures originally by Xandher. I edited them to stretch down lower on the stomach so they can be combined with more tops. The 'no jewelry' versions are the same but without the necklace, ring and nail polish.

io Vanity Tank Top

Categorized as everyday & formal.

Textures by io / @serabiet.

~~~

The bottoms

Xandher Jeans

Categorized as everyday. Polycount: 754.

Textures by Xandher: everyday essentials, adorned.

Shunga Reebok Classics

Jeans recolors are categorized as everyday, leggings recolors are everyday & athletic. Polycount: 4,624.

Original mesh is my lower-poly edit of @aklira's conversion of Shunga's Reebok Classics Club C 85. The shoe recolors are the ones I made for F over there as well, the leggings are my darker edit of DeeDee's leggings, the jeans textures are taken from here and here.

io Short Skirt Heels

Categorized as everyday & formal. Polycount: 970.

Original skirts by io / @serabiet + recolors by @brattylulu (I added #4).

Executables Shorts Running Shoes

Categorized as everyday & athletic. Polycount: 989.

Original shorts by @executables-sims.

~~~

Preg previews

Yes, the fat + preg morph combo looks ridiculous as always. Since I wanted everything to be combinable with other AM pieces, I had to comply with the standard placement of the waist seam vertices. Maxis is 100% to blame for giving AM such shitty morphs.

Let me know if you encounter any issue. I hope the anon who requested separates for AMTr will find this set useful ^^

#sims 2 #download #body shapes #AMTr #clothing:everyday #clothing:formal #clothing:athletic #sims 2 download #sims 2 cc #s2cc #ts2cc

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captain-is-king · 6 months

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okay i didn’t want to annoy anyone with a stream of consciousness live-blogging of the episodes which CAME OUT TONIGHT!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!

so here are the notes i took while watching if anyone wants to scream with me please feel free to do so

EDIT: HOLY SHIT IM A FUCKING IDIOT CHRIS IS CHRIS RODRIGUEZ!!! I WASNT EXPECTING HIM THIS SOON IN THE SERIES AT ALL. oh god and percy being friends with him now makes the betrayal so much worse oh shit oh man.

episode one:

- blackjack was percy seeing through the mist oh my god

- MYTHOMAGIC

- THIGHTY WHITIES

- oh my god they just trade sandwich toppings. that is so cute what the fuck

- grover psychanalyzing people. yes. good.

- mrs. dodds scene was underwhelming but that’s okay (edit: fight choreo is absolutely phenomenal the rest of the time)

- i am GASPING out loud at grover telling the headmaster

- obviously he’s doing it because it’s not safe for percy

- but WOOOOOOW

- eddie! what a cameo lmao

- i like that sally appears to argue with gabe more but also i’m worried she isn’t going to fucking murder gabe. it’s important to me that she kills that guy.

- also upset that percy probably won’t say “i know gabe would like to offer everyone in this lovely city free appliances” at the end

- near the septic tanks interesting detail to include 👀

- percy judging so hard like “you’re telling me found jesus”

- oh interesting the mist is responsible for grover which honestly makes more sense than hiding it? like if the mist takes care of monsters why not satyrs

- boys? i’m actually 24 I LOVE HIM

- mythomagic as training is fun

- would’ve been cooler if he swore on the styx and there was thunder but that’s okay

- omg i didn’t even realize his rain jacket was actually red until now. SUCH a good detail

- good animation of the minotaur very good

- oh my god the fight was the same like i could SEE the words on the page as i was watching it

- HE MUST BE THE ONE

- i grinned like a FOOL through the whole credits they’re so beautiful oh my god

episode two reactions under the cut!!!! i loved episode one but i liked episode two EVEN MORE so i have a lot of things to say.

episode two:

- annabeth just watching percy sleep with her arms crossed. she would.

- YOU DROOL WHEN YOU SLEEP oh my god the way she says it is like. so calculating. i always pictured it like a flippant thing in the book but no she’s like. angry. like it’s a remark on his character and she will use this detail to take him down in battle and it’s perfect and funny

- oh my god he’s turning away so grover doesn’t see him crying. i feel like this is a detail in the book somewhere but now i can’t find it happening so maybe i’m just losing it

- ok so the big house is not what i ever pictured but it is gorgeous and i love this version of it

- the diet coke

- but did you?

- he’s starting with me

- excuse me your highness

- dad? yes peter. it’s percy. exactly

- the audacity of mr. d. i’m obsessed

- “why must you ruin everything”

- omg the owls

- oh the cabins are so cool

- like one thing i never was able to picture was how camp was laid out and i just am eating so well this is so fun to look at

- I KNOW WHAT YOURE GOING THROUGH he really does though doesn’t he FUCK now i’m emotionally

- holy shit juniper????

- LMAO okay definitely not juniper she looks much older

- council of cloven elders is so much spookier than i thought

- mmmmm grover figured it out interesting

- also apparently names don’t have power. i mean that is the stance in heroes of olympus they did not care about names. so i get it

- so like. this is kronos? looking like the grim reaper in percy’s dreams?

- ok honestly the lack of annabeth so far is very upsetting

- mmmm “glory” interesting, luke

- who is this spunky kid with the hair

- YES. YES WHEELCHAIR USING DEMIGOD YES!!!

- idk why but them just using lighters takes me out of it. but it made me laugh

- yesssss hephaestus kids my beloved

- spunky kid with the hair is chris. NOW WHO THE FUCK IS CHRIS

- holy shit this is so sad. percy alone in the woods burning his candy

- OH MY GOD FOR HIS MOM oh my god i’m not going to survive this episode

- “i think i’ve made some friends here”

- oh this is too much. it’s giving “good kid” energy from the musical

- YES angry percy. i always felt like the musical emphasized how like. angry and upset percy was at his dad. obviously it’s a huge plot point in the book but it feels like more apparent in the musical and i always LOVED that about the musical so of course i LOVE that it is being emphasized in the show as well

- if percy doesn’t cut off medusas head and mail it to olympus after this and trying so hard to get his dad’s attention it will be SUCH a letdown i have to say it i’m sorry

- good bathroom scene. GOOD bathroom scene.

- are you stalking me annabeth

- yes

- oh i’m so in love with her

- like we knew she’d be phneomenal. but we’d seen so little of her in promo stuff!!! and i HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG TO SEE MY GIRL!!!!! AND HERE SHE FUCKING IS!!!!!!

- also saying annabeth is the head of the athena cabin and seeing tiny little annabeth is SO. funny. like we all knew it was funny that a twelve year old was in charge but SEEING it makes it so painfully obvious

- “she’s my little sister”

- they call them forbidden kids that’s a little silly but that’s fine

- also i enjoy that they’re talking about thalia-luke-annabeth earlier

- BABY ANNABETH HIDING IN AN ALLEY. oh i hope we get to actually SEE this scene one day because i do love it so

- “can you ask her to knock it off.” obsessed.

- these waterfalls are SO. cool. the one thing the descriptions of camp were always missing. i love a waterfall

- the kid playing the war drums has me laughing out loud

- laughing OUT LOUD at percy. flossing and peeing and whistling

- oh my god a lizard. i would too.

- just laying down. picking at a leaf

- i just noticed he actually has vans. skater!percy lives

- GUESS ILL LOSE DESERT PRIVILEGES good book line so glad it’s in here

- the fight choreo is SO. GOOD

- “NOT BAD HERO” ALSO GOOD BOOK LINE

- you were here the whole time and you didn’t help me? yes. what is wrong with you!!

- oh i love her SO. much. i love them both so fucking much

- one of my FAVORITE lines is “poseidon, earthshaker stormbringer. hail perseus jackson son of the sea god” and i’m so glad we got it

- i like jason mantzoukas because, like that post about gene wilder, you can really believe he’d let those kids die

- also one of my favorite scenes is annabeth being invisible in the big house the whole time percy is being offered a quest and chiron is like “someone already offered to go with you” and annabeth takes her hat off to reveal she has been there the whole time. and it’s always been so funny to me but i don’t mind that the humor of it was still maintained in the scene after capture the flag being altered a little bit. and we still got “not bad hero”

- oh shit are we not getting the oracle. i guess it makes sense. it’s a lot of time when someone can just tell percy they think it’s hades but like. actually. BETRAYED BY ONE WHO CALLS YOU A FRIEND!! FAIL TO SAVE WHAT MATTERS MOST!! ITS KIND OF IMPORTANT and the oracle is like a very important plot point later

- I AM SALLY JACKSON’S SON. YOU TELL THEM

#percy jackson #percy series #annabeth chase #grover underwood #oh man i love them so much

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putschki1969 · 13 days

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2024/05/30 Blog post by Wakana アフタートークイベントのこと！〜自撮りチャレンジは続く〜

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After-Talk Event！〜The Selfie-Challenge Continues〜

I was asked a lot about my nails during the online after-talk event on the 17th, so I'm going to post a few photos of my nails! I asked the nail artist to paint my nails in colours which aligned with my releases from the past five years. Funnily enough, I got so engrossed in talking with the manicurist that I ended up getting my fingers painted in the wrong order! ＼(^o^)／ By the way, when I decided to take some pictures, I really struggled to figure out how to get both of my hands on a photo. I eventually thought that a mirror would probably be the best idea. For some reason, decided to include my face, even though these pictures were meant to be about my nails😎This way, it automatically became part of my continuing selfie challenge! ＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／Let's go! The truth is, ever since I uploaded my first selfies, the back of my phone has been decorated like this with Kid-sama and Conan-kun, but maybe no one had noticed it before? Unfortunately, when I tried to get all of my fingers in the frame, I ended up covering the faces of Kid-sama and Conan-kun's. It may look like I'm purposefully trying to hide Kid-sama from you, but I really just wanted my fingers to be the focus of the pictures. No matter how many times I tried, I couldn't get all my nails in the frame, so I was ready to give up and tried smiling a bit. (At this point, I think everyone is just super curious about Kid-sama and Conan-kun's faces.) And this is how the nail edition of my selfie challenge ended.

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣▽￣0)／

Taking pictures of your nails is hard! (Am I the only one struggling with this?)

Well, it was a lot of fun chatting with everyone who participated in the online after-talk event on the 17th😊 It was my first time looking back on a live performance together with all of you so I was a little nervous😳💓 On the way to the studio, I was a little overwhelmed by the number of people in the city, I felt a little dizzy🌀💫 It was very soothing to interact with you through the comment section🥰Thank you...🥰 During the broadcast, we looked at photos from the live performance and reflected on the setlist. I also shared some stories from the rehearsals and a couple of backstage anecdotes from the day of the live. Occasionally, I would also read through everyone's real-time comments and react to them. It was only five days after the live performance so the timing was perfect. Everyone's memory was still fresh so I was very happy to hear your thoughts😆It was a refreshing experience✨

During the event we also played a mini-game called "Following the trajectory of my 5-year solo career!" It was a pretty difficult game in which I had to arrange a number of photos from the past five years in chronological order within three minutes😂 I had to judge those pictures based on what I was wearing and while I was able to figure out most of it, I also made a few mistakes 😅I was quite confused whenever I got multiple live photos from the same year. And I got my dress colours mixed up with all those Classical Live photos... 👗 I played three rounds of this game and if I managed to get 2 out of 3 right, I would receive a reward from the staff members. It was really exhausting 🤣 I asked everyone to participate in the comment section, you were amazing!! ! You knew everything right away 😳 Your memory is so much better than mine 😂 At the end, I got 2 right and my reward was a big smile from my staff members!! ! ! Yup, that's it〜〜😂 Kinda underwhelming but still, thank you! 😂

I also read the messages everyone had submitted in the Fan Club section "Bokutachi no (=our) VOICE"📖 You shared your thoughts in such a detailed and articulate manner... I don't really know anyone else who is able to express their thoughts so meticulously 😭✨I'm really grateful 🥺 The messages bring me so much joy and strength that I will still go and read them sometimes. 💪💪💪 By the way, I addressed a lot of your comments during the event but for some reason the comment that stuck with me the most was "When you pulled out the chair, it sounded like the roar of a lion!" 🤣🤣🤣Thank you for this hilarious comment! It really was the sound of a lion roaring!!

Thank you to everyone who participated in the after-talk event!! !Last but not least, I'll post all the live photos that were shown during the stream＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／ (Photos by Ushijima Kosuke)

Well then, until next time~☆( *'▽'*)/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

#kalafina #wakana #wakana blog #botanical land #fan club exclusive content #I LOVE Wakana's selfie challenge #we are getting so many good pics #feel so spoiled #bless the fan who asked Wakana to post more selfies on the podcast

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laura1633 · 2 months

Note

Have you seen the rumours that Ferrari will run a blue livery in Miami? Am fully aware it will likely just be a pinstripe on the car as their special liveries and race suits are always slightly underwhelming BUT imagine Max seeing Charles in some combination of red and blue and just completely losing all function. It doesn’t matter that the azurro dino is not Red Bull navy or that the rosso corsa isn’t the right shade of red, it massively sets off Max’s possessiveness anyway seeing Charles in their shared colours and he just cannot cope the whole race weekend.

Ahhh yes I have seen that and it will go so well with Max's special edition blue helmet he is going to have in Miami!

Seeing Charles in blue just changes something in Max's brain chemistry - he's not sure why but it feels like Charles is his. Really his. He gets rather possessive whenever the other drivers are talking to Charles and tries to steal Charles' attention away all weekend.

When they both end up on the podium Max grips hold of Charles waist so tightly, his fingertips pressing over the blue details on Charles' special suit and it suddenly clicks for Charles what has been driving Max so crazy.

#Laura1633 asks #Ferrari blue

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shuacore · 2 years

Text

no thorns, no roses.

reader (f) x jsh. summary: a modeling gig turns into a test of your patience (and your self-control) — 11.4K words — is enemies with benefits a thing?, basically pwp, semi-public hooking-up?? — warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings

additional warnings: degradation (lite), unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), probably like a billion red flags lol

"Good news, y/n!" your boss yells over the phone, and you wince as you pull the speaker away from your ear. Mingyu was a nice guy but, Christ, he was fucking loud. You slowly put the phone to your ear again. "You booked the Dior gig!"

Your jaw drops. "No fucking way. You're lying!" Silently you kick your feet in the air, a giddy dizzy feeling buzzing through your whole body. If Mingyu could see you on the other side of the phone he'd be laughing at you, but from the safety of your own apartment, you could act as ridiculous as you wanted. Your boss is yelling something into the phone, but you're not listening as you jump around your couch, pumping your fists in the air like the protagonist of some corny rom-com movie.

"...really liked your stuff. Their girl backed out after getting food poisoning and they need someone else. I know it's extremely short notice, but it's tomorrow afternoon— can you make that work?"

You nod vigorously before remembering you're on the phone and Mingyu can't actually see your face. "Yes!" you reply breathlessly. You can't feel your legs anymore, so you slump on the couch, clutching a pillow to your chest.

"Awesome! I'll get in touch with their creative coordinator right now and forward you the details ASAP. Thanks, y/n," Mingyu says with a short goodbye, and the line dies.

For a moment, all you can do is sit in shock. Dior wanted you. And not only that, but it was for a shoot in Vogue?! You flop onto your back, still speechless. You had to be dreaming. It had been years since your last major shoot, and it had been such a disaster that you had refused to do any luxury shoots since then. Except that when Mingyu had told you that Dior had sent out a notice to all the major modeling agencies looking for new blood for their latest campaign, you knew you had to try.

So you had spent the last few weeks filming and editing your best walks together into a video, compiled with countless headshots, past work, and endless pose references. Your favorite brand was looking for new talent, and there was no way in hell you could pass up the opportunity.

You throw your arm over your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. The sick thing was that it had actually worked. And now you were going to Vogue's studio tomorrow to work directly with some of the most renowned designers in the world. God, it made you want to pee yourself a little bit.

Somewhere across the room, there's a small ding! from your phone from where you had thrown it and you hastily push yourself off the couch to grab it. A small notification reads "Congrats!" and in your dazed state you clumsily click on it, opening the email from your boss.

Hey, y/n! Here's the information from Kelly, the creative coordinator at Vogue. Let me know if you have any questions.

Congrats again!

Kim Mingyu | Talent Coordinator

AGC Modeling Agency

—--- Forwarded message ------

From: Kelly G. <[email protected]>

Sent: Monday, July 29, 2021 8:56 AM

To: Kim Mingyu <[email protected]>

Subject: VOGUE x Dior 2021 Shoot Replacement

Hey Mingyu!

We've run into an issue with one of our girls and we need a replacement. We really liked the work of y/n and would love to work with them! Here are the details from Dior's creative director, and I've included a few images of the sample pieces they've asked us to shoot. Let me know what you think!

Thanks!

Kelly G. | Creative Coordinator

VOGUE Magazine

Your eyes skim the rest of the email, reading over the shoot info as fast as possible. Well, the clothing is more revealing than you were used to doing, and the colors were, honestly, underwhelming, but your excitement outweighed your trepidation.

If it was just another solo shoot, and it sounded like it was, you were ready to give them your best material. The creative director wouldn’t even know what hit them.

As you climb into bed that night, you can't fight the smile that threatens to take over your whole face, and you slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of camera flashes and a world painted with unimaginable color.

----

The next morning, however, as you stand outside the Vogue studio door and your stomach threatens to push itself out of your mouth, you wonder if you've truly chosen the right career path.

"Mingyu, I don't know if I can do this," you say, turning to look at your manager. His dark hair is effortlessly tousled, and in the bright morning light, he looks as if he's glowing. You often wonder why Mingyu had never become a model himself, but whenever you asked, he just brushed off the question in the infuriatingly cool way that he did everything. As you watch a few strands of his perfect hair wave in the cool New York morning breeze, dimly, you also wonder why you’ve never asked him out.

"Your stuff was great, y/n," he says, with a goofy little pat on your shoulder. "If anyone can 'serve face' it's you!"

You wrinkle your nose in disgust. It was horrendous how he tried to keep up with the youth, but there was no hope with Mingyu. So you simply nod and let him lead you through the door, trying your best not to vomit all over yourself.

The door shuts behind you with a horrible clunk, and as you follow your manager through the catacombs of Vogue's creative spaces, you try your very best to feel excited.

No! You tell yourself. You are excited! Except you're also impossibly worried about making a fool of yourself in front of the top fashion magazine in the world, and possibly affecting the rest of your career forever.

"Ok," you say nervously, "Snap out of it!" Miles of beige drywall seem to pass by you. Why the hell is this hallway so long? You swear you’ve been walking for eons now, and the longer the hallway stretches on, the smaller you shrink.

By the time you reach the end of the hallway, you can't be more than a few centimeters tall. Mingyu chooses an unassuming beige door and allows you to enter the room before him. Some of the photographers are already in the room, and they wave politely as you enter. The backdrops are set up and ready, with a few more options draped across support beams and tables. There's a chair centered under a few lights and you see your clothing rack, already adorned with a few of the flimsy, delicate pieces you'd be wearing. Being in the space has an immediate effect, and you can't help but feel a jolt of excitement in your stomach.

After setting your bag on a chair in the back, you catch sight of a bed tucked behind one of the backdrops. Had you read anything about a bed being used on set? You couldn't quite remember, and you were about to ask Mingyu about it, but he had already disappeared into the growing throng of designers, off doing his managerial thing. You take a quick look around. No one seems to be watching you, and besides, it’s your set so why not get used to it?

You approach the bed, curiosity and confusion battling in your brain. It didn’t seem to really fit with the strange and spunky summer theme, but maybe it was for some kind of boudoir moment the art directors had in mind? There had definitely been some gauzy things mixed in with Dior’s array of pieces.

Honestly, the longer you look at it, the more delightful the bed looks. The pillows are squishy and adorned in soft, shiny silk, and there are a few blankets strewn artfully across the comforters. Man, you really wanted to jump onto it like a little kid, but you also wanted to appear professional— so that meant no jumping. For now at least.

You turn to walk back to your seat, barely looking where you’re going when you crash headfirst into someone else. Papers go flying, coffee splatters everywhere, and in the sudden flurry of motion, there’s a cacophony of swearing.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I totally wasn’t looking where I was going. I can pay for your dry cleaning, or run and grab you a new shirt. God, I am so, so sorry,” you babble, suddenly sweating profusely. In a panic, you kneel down to gather the papers as fast as possible, shoving them into a haphazard pile and offering them to the other person with as apologetic of a face as you could possibly make.

And then you make eye contact with them.

Fuck. Your heart drops into your stomach.

The man you just ran into wrinkles his nose. “Oh. It’s you.” His dark eyes are flat with disdain.

You fight the urge to throw a punch (and also throw up). It’s been years since you last saw him, and yet, you seem to be having some sort of Pavlovian response to his voice.

“Joshua Hong,” you say through gritted teeth. The other creatives are watching the two of you with poorly disguised interest, so you attempt to actively suppress the rage gurgling uncomfortably in your stomach by forcing a smile onto your lips. It doesn't work, but they don't need to know that.

Joshua takes the forgotten papers from your hands, offering you a dry smile before stalking away without another word.

Wow. He really has not changed at all. Still just as insufferable and impossible as the last time you worked with him.

Vague memories of getting drunk and hooking up with Joshua swim to the front of your mind. You hadn’t known you were going to be working with him the next day. He had just been some hot guy at a bar who you had chatted with briefly. All you can really recall is singing (extremely drunk) karaoke with him, making out with him in his car after a particularly raunchy song, and waking up in his bed the next morning. You wonder if he remembers how he held you like you were glass, whispered empty promises in your ear, and made you feel like a princess. He had made you feel like you were unforgettable. And then he hadn’t even acknowledged your damn presence at the shoot later the same day.

After all these years, even after all the effort it had taken you to forget the heartbreak you had felt, one glimpse of him was all it took to send you back to the very beginning of it all. With a particularly large jolt in your chest, you’re horrified that your body still craves him so badly.

“Y/N?” Mingyu’s voice calls out to you, breaking you out of your reverie. “Are you okay?”

You realize your nails had been biting into your palms and you release your fists, trying to relax the tension in your shoulders and your jaw. You plant the most reassuring smile you can on your face and nod.

"Perfect, actually," you say, doing your best to ignore your roiling stomach. The smile on your face feels more like a grimace the longer you hold it.

"Do you... do you need to go to the bathroom?" your manager asks, quirking an eyebrow and throwing a thumb over his shoulder. He looks a little afraid of you and you can only imagine how insane you look to Mingyu. You brush him off.

"No, I'll be fine." Yes, go now! Get out of here! Run! You smile again before shuffling quickly back to your bag amid the whispers that continue to follow you across the studio.

You hadn't seen Joshua Hong in years, and somehow you still couldn't look at him without feeling an explosion of confusing emotions. He had completely humiliated you, belittling you until you had run out of the room and cried in the bathroom for twenty minutes. He made you look like a fool. He had made you feel like shit. Mingyu knew your history with him, but Vogue must have not told him that Joshua was working on this shoot, because you know your sweet, but dense, manager surely would not have booked you for this if they had.

Professionalism be damned. You wanted to throw (another) cup of hot coffee in Joshua Hong's perfectly chiseled face.

You look up from your shaking hands for a moment to see that the bastard has already disappeared. You're not sure if that fills you with dread or relief. Ok, you can't ignore this.

"Mingyu!" you whisper loudly, pulling your manager aside. "You didn't tell me Joshua Hong was going to be here!"

Mingyu looks defensive. "They never told me he would be here!" He wrings his hands for a moment. "Y/n, I swear, I never knew he was working this shoot or I would've never booked this gig for you."

You take a deep breath, forcing your erratic heartbeat to slow until you think you're capable of speaking rationally. "I'm sorry, but I can’t do this."

Mingyu looks even more apologetic, and he runs a hand through his dark hair in frustration. "I'm sorry, but at this point, you have to. We don't have any backups nearly as good as you, and backing out would be a huge hit to your career."

You were expecting the bad news, but hearing it directly from Mingyu felt like a huge blow. Suddenly your stomach feels like it's going to eject from your body.

"I lied," you say, clapping a hand to your belly, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Turn to the left and it'll be at the end of the hall," Mingyu replies, concern in his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yep! Perfect!" you mumble hastily before walking as quickly out of the room as you could without running. The nervous energy in your body was building until you felt you could climb walls. Clinging to the ceiling surely would be less strenuous than the rest of today.

In your state of mild hysteria, you shove the door to the bathroom open without knocking, only to see Joshua standing over the sink, holding his soiled shirt in his hands. He whips his head around in surprise. And you only just barely see the muscles of his shoulders rippling under his honeyed skin before your eyes are the size of dinner plates.

You might now hold the record for reddest face in two seconds.

"I'm so sorry!" you squeak, yanking the door shut. Your heart is racing a million miles a second. You had just seen Joshua Hong shirtless. (Sober.) And even though you had before, something about this felt worse. Fuck. Fuck! Your luck was unbelievable, and there's absolutely no way you could get through this shoot amiably with this man. Not after you ruined his shirt and certainly not after you invaded his privacy in the span of fifteen minutes.

You lean your back on the wall for a moment, holding your head in your hands, heart pounding so heavily you think you might faint. The darkness of the back of your eyelids is somewhat soothing and you stay like that for a while, wallowing in your despair. But then you hear what sounds like the doorknob turning, and walk back towards the studio as quickly as you possibly can.

"Two minutes!" you hear someone call, and the feeling in your stomach only gets worse. Somehow you were going to have to wear skimpy lingerie next to the man that had made you feel ridiculous and sell the illusion of sex! Luxury! Your stomach gives a particularly robust gurgle.

"Y/N!" one of the stylists calls as you enter the room again. "Let's do wardrobe!" She takes you over to the racks, pulling out a few pieces rapidly, scanning them and your body before settling on a silky black slip dress, which is far more sheer than you had hoped. In any other situation you would have fallen head over heels, but knowing the man closest to being your arch-enemy was going to see you in it suddenly made it extremely unappetizing. The stylist hands you the hanger, showing you to a row of make-shift dressing rooms.

Behind the curtain you slip into the dress, and the silk is smooth and cool against your burning skin. It really is quite pretty, and here by yourself you enjoy the way it clings to your body in all the right places. Unprompted, your brain floods with the image of Joshua's back— broad and tan and toned with muscle.

Imagine him seeing you in this dress...imagine his hands on your body—

"Ok! That's enough!" you interject, crushing the thoughts before they can fully form and liquefy your brain. You take a breath, staring at yourself in the tiny mirror taped to a support beam.

"You got this. It's just another job. Do it for the check." You flash yourself a quick thumbs up.

After opening the curtain, you're whisked away to makeup and hair, where you're accosted by a few more stylists who fuss over your appearance even more. They end up deciding on a bold smoky eye and some simple lip gloss and fluff your hair until it looks effortlessly tousled.

But all too soon you're done with prep, and the only thing left is to start the shoot. Awkwardly you stand off to the side of the studio, waiting for the director to give you instructions. You still haven't seen Joshua, which just sets you on edge even more.

"Y/N!" the director says, appearing by your side. "We're going to start with your solo shots, just for some variety." You smile, allowing your shoulders to relax. Solo shots you could do. A stylist leads you over to the chair and instructs you to sit.

And it goes flawlessly. It's like once you're in front of a camera your body takes over and you know exactly what to do with your arms, what facial expressions to make. The space becomes your own. The director takes your photos, pausing every few minutes or so to instruct you on a new pose or to fix your hair, but the first half of your shoot goes by without a hitch. You feel alive, happy even, as you work, as Joshua fades to the background. When it's just you, you can focus.

"Fantastic work, Y/N!" the director says, as she flicks through a few shots on her camera. You do look great. "The editors have a bunch of really great material to work with." Ok, so maybe this wouldn't be completely terrible. As long as you focused on yourself and on giving your best material, everything would be fine.

As if on cue... he appears and all your resolve crumbles.

Except— he's still not wearing a shirt. Well, he's kind of wearing a shirt, except that it's completely unbuttoned and exposing his entire chest. He's also wearing a pair of simple black dress pants, but to be honest, you're a little distracted by his perfect abs to really notice. Ok, you didn't know this was part of the plan. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and wrench your gaze away, trying to discreetly fan your face as Joshua walks over. Desperately, you hope that he won't mention your little mishap.

Oh my god, he was still hot. Did this change anything? No... you still hated him. Except now you just felt even more conflicted internally. Your body was telling you one thing, but your head was telling you another and you hoped your awful shoot partner being hot didn't suddenly alter your entire perception of him, but you couldn't even—

"Y/N?" Joshua's voice cuts across your inner monologue like a knife, dry and without humor. "The director is speaking." You shoot a panicked glance at him, withering slightly when you see the same unfaltering gaze looking back. He looks so unamused, it's incredible. You wrench your head back towards the director, hoping you look apologetic enough.

She gives you a nonchalant smile and continues on without issue. "You know Dior. Everyone knows Dior. I want you to look sexy, suave, effortless. I know you're both seasoned professionals so I'm not worried, but try and make it as electric as possible."

Sexy. Suave. Electric. Yeah, no worries. You shove your heart back down your throat, trying your damn best not to let your trepidation show. Electricity between you and Joshua. Well, there'd certainly be something.

You try to catch Joshua's eye, to gauge his temperament, but he seems content with ignoring your presence like always. As he sits in the chair, one of the panels of his shirt falls open, flashing the slight curve of his waist again. Despite gritting your teeth in annoyance, your heart does a very confusing loop-de-loop in your chest that makes you feel mildly ill.

After Joshua has settled in the chair, the director motions for a camera. "Ok, for this first shot, Y/N, I want you to place your left foot on his knee so you're facing him. Joshua, let's have you put your hand on Y/N's calf— yeah, exactly like that."

You've forced yourself to look away from Joshua, acutely aware of how short your dress is and how much it's riding up your thigh. Seriously, this is your first shoot and you're already sweating. Joshua places his hand on your leg like it's nothing, but it's taking everything in you not to cringe away. He smells good, too. Fuck! You're trying to remember that you hate him and yet his presence has shaken you to the bone.

"Lean in a little more, Y/N," the photographer says, "You're a little stiff." You nod, and shift so you're even closer to Joshua that you'd like, your chest uncomfortably close to his face.

Jesus. And this was only the first set. You breathe deeply through your nose, trying to ignore your pulse racing heavily through your body. Joshua seems unfazed as always, perfect and unruffled.

Right, because you're supposed to be professionals. Heat flushes up your neck in shame. He hadn't said much and yet you were the one acting childish. You try to distance yourself from the man next to you, telling yourself he's just another model doing his job. And for a while it works. You take a few different shots from different positions— you in front of him, then behind the chair, then next to him, somehow managing to incorporate your leg every time. The director has Joshua inching his hand farther and farther up your thigh until his fingers are practically playing with the hem of your dress, and you are desperately trying to keep your cool. Joshua has a tendency to dig his fingers into your skin every time he moves his hand, and it is doing confusing things to your brain. Then—

"You want him to what?" you say incredulously, eyes wide. You know you shouldn't be reacting like this if you want to keep your job, but Joshua is throwing you off your game.

The director smiles. "I'm going to have you sitting in the chair this time, and I want Joshua on the floor."

You slowly sit in the chair, back stiff as Joshua crouches on the floor next to you.

He briefly looks at you and mutters, "Is it okay if I touch you?" but it's more of a formality than a courtesy. You stare at him, mouth agape and swallow thickly.

"Uh— yeah. No, yeah, that's fine."

He places his hand on your thigh again, fingers gripping the soft flesh ever so slightly, and you desperately hope he doesn't notice the slight shiver that runs through your body. If he does, at least he's civil enough not to mention it.

The photographer is frowning. Oh no. "The energy is still dead. Joshua can you sit in between Y/N's legs?"

You freeze. Even Joshua seems slightly put out. But the look in his eyes fades as quickly as it appeared and he dips his head in acknowledgement. Then he turns to you.

God, you've never wanted to fade out of existence more than you did right now. Having his head right next to your— you-know-where?! Your legs seem to be glued together with the effort it takes to pry them apart. Joshua awkwardly climbs in between your knees, trying to pose as nonchalantly as possible. It's as if your spine is glued to the backrest of the chair; you're completely immobilized. You don't want Joshua there. In fact, you don't want him anywhere near you.

The director frowns. "Lean back! Relax! Loop your arm under her leg, too. You could even lean your face against her thigh if you feel so inclined."

Your eyes have to be so wide right now. Joshua, even though he's clearly uncomfortable, wraps his hand around your thigh again, and leans his head towards your skin. His mouth ever-so-slightly brushes against the inside of your thigh, his breath warm against your burning skin. Goosebumps erupt across your body, and you feel the ghost of a smile on the corner of his lips.

You, however, cannot relax. You can't make this look natural no matter how hard you try, and Joshua being so close to your womanhood is certainly not helping. The camera clicks echo through the room as the photographers take a few shots of the two of you.

But after a few minutes, the director still looks unhappy, and you have a sinking feeling it's your fault.

"No... this still isn't right. I like the vision, but this still feels a little forced. Let's try something else."

Isn't it all forced? you think, disgruntled. Joshua shifts his grip on your thigh ever slightly.

The director turns the chair to the side, telling Joshua to sit on it again. She squints for a moment, walking around him a few times and muttering quietly to herself. After a few more minutes, she steps back. Then she looks at you.

"Sit in his lap."

Excuse me?

You don't move. Every bone in your body seems to be made of lead, every muscle completely froze. Joshua stares at you, an unreadable expression in his eyes. You swear he discreetly raises an eyebrow, as if in challenge, but you blink and it's gone. Even your throat feels like it's closing up. But who are you to challenge the director?

Awkwardly, you throw one leg over Joshua's lap, settling yourself as casually as you possibly can. Your heartbeat is screaming in your ears, and you're terrified he'll feel it against his chest. The silky fabric of your dress is offering absolutely no comfort as it shifts over your skin. Joshua's shirt is gaping, your own skin dangerously close to his.

Joshua places his large hands on your back, and the heat from his palms seeps through the delicate silk as if there was no dress at all. You can't even look him in the eyes. You know you're supposed to be acting like you're in lust, but right now you're simply immobile. His cologne wafts tantalizingly off of his skin, and you bite your lip, trying your best to ignore the way his breath washes over your collarbones, the way the heat in your core seems to be intensifying every second you spend flush against him.

"That's a little better," the director says, before whispering something to her colleague. They start to take pictures as they flit around you.

Unconsciously, you've been squirming around on Joshua's lap to get comfortable, and you start when you feel his fingers press into your skin, his breath hot against your throat.

"Stop doing that," he hisses under his breath, and then you realize... the thing underneath you that you thought was maybe his phone... is definitely something else. Heat rushes to your face and you freeze as best as you can. His chest is heaving just imperceptibly. There's definitely arousal slowly pooling in your barely-there underwear, and you are quite literally praying to God that Joshua won't say anything.

"Sorry," you squeak, turning your head so you don't have to look at him. He's probably embarrassed, so you'll do your best to be as professional as possible. It happens to everyone.

Except Joshua seems less mortified than you. He slides his hands down your spine until they're just barely resting on your ass. You swear he squeezes.

"Are you though?" he murmurs, pulling you centimeters forward on his lap, so for a hint of a second there is a moment of delicious friction and a rush of pleasure, and your eyes widen. But then you clear your throat, looking to the director for more instruction. There's an unreachable itch building under your skin, making you feel antsy.

She still looks unsatisfied, shaking her head.

"Ok, I don't know what the issue is here, so let's take a break." She frowns at the two of you as you hurriedly clamber off of Joshua's lap, pulling your dress down as far as it can possibly go. He looks unbothered, cooly crossing his legs and sitting back. The flush in your cheeks won't go away and you fan your face, knowing you look ridiculous in the frigid studio.

"I need you two to figure out what the deal is," the director says, fixing the two of you under a firm stare. "You're two of the best I've worked with, but you're not giving me what you promised. I don't know what happened between you two or if anything did at all, but don't bring this tension into the studio. Use lunch to figure it out." She looks disappointed and you feel your heart sink. They were never going to hire you again!

The director points at Joshua. "We'll take your solo shots after lunch." She turns away to make the same announcement to the crew, and they start to file out of the room, hardly sparing the two of you a second glance.

You're frozen in place, not trusting yourself to walk to your chair in the corner. The last of the crew leave the room, and the door closes with an air of finality.

The silence is suffocating, and you are, to put it in so many words, insanely turned on now. You turn to Joshua, looking everywhere but him. You wonder if he's equally as on edge.

You open your mouth to speak when his voice cuts through the tension.

"Ok, why don't we just deal with this like adults?"

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

"Well, I wasn't going to scream and cry, if that's what you thought," you retort, frowning. There he is again with his irritating know-it-all behavior.

The hint of a smirk flits across his face as he toys with one of the thick silver rings on his fingers. "Maybe not." Joshua looks amused by something, but if there is something humorous he gives no hint as to what it is. Frustration flares in your stomach.

Your frown only deepens. "Spit it out, then." Your patience is wearing thin.

Joshua suddenly fixes his dark eyes on you and you're taken aback by the shift in the room. "Do you want me to say it? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?"

"I—I have no idea what you're talking about," you say helplessly, pulling on the hem of your dress. There is not enough fucking fabric in the world that would make you feel covered under his stare.

Joshua looks unconvinced. "Are you sure? There's nothing you... need help with?" He's taunting you.

Heat rushes to your face. "If I needed help with something, it certainly would not be from you." You wrench your eyes from his face, suddenly feeling rather small. You're thankful he's far enough away right now— if he came any closer, you certainly would not be able to hold up as well.

Joshua raises an eyebrow. God, you are so tired of this man and his mind games. A sudden burst of irritation replaces the timidity in your voice.

“What is your fucking deal?” you spit, hands balling into fists in frustration. Joshua's little comments have you riled up far more than you care to admit. How could he say that to you? In the middle of working?

To your surprise, Joshua doesn’t snap back like you thought he would. Instead, a cocky smile slides across his lips, and he pins you under his gaze, dark eyes shining with vicious gloating.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” he says, sitting casually on the chair. His easy demeanor has you on edge.

"I—" You falter, put out. “Notice what?”

Joshua pauses for a moment to examine his nails. “The heat quite literally radiating from you.” His eyes slide back to you, lingering on the strap of your dress fallen off your shoulder (and suddenly said heat in your core increases tenfold). Fuck.

This is actually the worst possible thing that could be happening to you right now. Like, literally ever. You seem to be trying to make up for all the confessional you missed over the last couple decades because you shoot a couple more prayers God’s way, hoping for a miracle.

“I don’t— I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say again. You know exactly what he's talking about. All moisture in your mouth vanishes.

Joshua stands, slowly walking towards you. Instinctively, you back away, eyes glued to his face as he approaches. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely turned on right now, and you know Joshua can tell. As your back hits the wall, you let out a small gasp.

Joshua is impossibly close— somehow even closer than when you were posing, and you know you’re supposed to hate him, and you know there’s supposed to be some kind of thought process repelling him from you, but the same deep, woody scent of his cologne is clogging your senses and you're finding it extremely difficult to remember exactly what it was that you loathed about his stupidly handsome face.

“What are you doing?” you choke out.

“Don’t play stupid,” Joshua murmurs, eyes roaming unabashedly over your body. The silk dress is pointless as if he could simply see right through the flimsy fabric. "They put you in this. How was I supposed to concentrate?"

“You’re the one being stupid right now,” you shoot back, hoping and praying that you can control the tremor in your voice. Joshua is close enough that you can count the faint blemishes across his skin and see his eyes sizing you up. “Do ever think with anything other than your dick?”

Joshua cocks a perfectly manicured eyebrow. He looks bored. “Sometimes yes.” Suddenly he’s all up on you, boxing you in against the wall in between his arms. Hot breath fans across your face, but you’re frozen. You can’t look away as your heart hammers in your chest. Shit, you can’t stop looking at his chest.

He flashes that same infuriating shit-eating grin. “Other times... no.”

Joshua's sudden change in demeanor is making your head swim, but there's no point in pretending you don't want him anymore.

There's no going back now.

“Fuck, Joshua,” you breathe before crashing your mouth to his, pulling him into a heated embrace. As soon as he looked at you with those ridiculous eyes of his, any and all of your restraint flew out the window.

His hands are on your body, hot and heavy, as they roam your skin, giving away his poorly concealed restraint. By the way he holds you so fiercely, he had clearly been waiting to ravish you. Fingers catch on the hem of your dress but you can't even get yourself to stop him. The thin silky fabric is doing nothing to keep the heat from his body out. It's like you're already naked.

Joshua, ever the show-off, catches your bottom lip in his teeth, coaxing a soft moan from your mouth. He looks smug as he pulls away, delighted at finding one of your weaknesses. You don't have half the mind to play games with him. Your mind is in shambles, and your body might be, too, as he plants his mouth on your neck, nipping at the delicate skin with poorly disguised enjoyment. He clearly likes seeing you squirm. His fingers tangle in your hair. Your knees are weak. Air is already so sparse.

Joshua's fingers dig into your hips. "You're moving too much," he says lowly, the sound vibrating against your jaw. God, when was the last time someone kissed you like this? Your last hook-up had been (quite literally) so dry and so unimaginative that you had sworn off casual sex for a while.

But kissing Joshua... the way he moaned softly into your mouth, tightened his grip on your body, pulled you towards him. Even though you knew how he was romantically, he kissed you like he needed you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fought to keep your eyes open, to see the dark hair brushing against your cheekbones, to map the spots dusting his skin hidden ever so slightly under his makeup, to see how the flush on his skin burned and deepened with every single second you two stayed locked together. But it's taking every ounce of self-control in you not to crumple to the ground that you let your eyes fall closed. You know when to pick and choose your battles.

Except that then he pushes a knee between your legs and there's already so little fabric between you and this man that you freeze. Your eyes fly back open. Joshua boldly presses his thigh up against your body, right against the ache building in your core. You bite down on your lip to stifle the pitiful little sounds trying to escape from your mouth, refusing to give in to Joshua that easily. He shifts his knee, the fabric of your panties catching on his pantleg. You swallow a quiet moan.

You are suddenly very aware of how... hot you actually are. Joshua breaks away from the kiss, a lewd string of spit connecting your mouths together. Your arousal has spread to your chest, and you think you might faint.

"Oh dear," Joshua murmurs, as one hand trails down your waist and over your thigh. His eyes seem to dismantle the last of your composure the longer they rake across your bare skin. You let out a shaky breath as he wraps a hand around your thigh, drawing it up near his hip with startling swiftness. Your heart is thumping so wildly that you're amazed you can even hear him over it at all.

"You doing okay?" He smiles wickedly.

It’s all you can do to gape stupidly at him, the words dying in your throat before they're even fully formed. It's infuriating how Joshua is able to so easily render you speechless. Every word that falls from his cruel mouth is just another reason not to sleep with him, but the taunts just sound so damn pretty that there's little stopping you from fucking him right here, right now.

Except that you're at work. On a lunch break. Hooking up with your enemy. His nails bite into your skin.

Joshua smirks with some sort of sick amusement. "You were so talkative... what happened?" He asks, leaning in until his lips are mere centimeters from yours. You want to kick yourself for how badly you want him. How badly your body needs him.

You open your mouth to retort when he catches your lips in another searing kiss, this time with more tongue than teeth. You spineless sucker! The last of your dignity is just barely hanging on by a thread. Joshua kisses you fiercely, even groaning slightly as he kneads your thigh with his fingers. You’re about to completely lose your head.

"Joshua," you moan quietly, hands clumsily tugging his shirt off his shoulders. (Thankfully half the work had already been done for you.) He hardly breaks the kiss before tossing the shirt somewhere in the room with impatience. "They're gonna come back s-soon." Oh, but you can't even get yourself to care.

Not with the way his hands grip your ass, not with the way his mouth keeps leaving dirty little surprises across your skin. God, you're going to hell.

“Let them find us,” he pants before lifting you into the air, arms holding you up by your thighs. You barely even register where he’s taking you until you roughly hit the mattress with a loud huff! of air. The pillows are just as soft as you had imagined.

Joshua stands over you, shamelessly drinking in your body. You feel a little silly, like a doll splayed across the bed.

Joshua licks his lips. “You are simply wearing too many layers, my dear.” You’re pleased to hear a rasp in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“And what are you going to do about it?” you ask him, tipping your chin back in challenge. The heat is positively radiating through your body, pulsing so strongly you’re amazed he hasn’t made another comment. The tension is so palpable that it’s become a game of who’s going to snap first.

And lucky for you, Joshua takes the bait without a second thought.

He mashes his mouth back to yours, roughly pushing the straps of your silly little dress off your shoulders and down your hips, fully exposing your décolletage. Joshua plants his mouth on your throat, sucking less-than-delicate hickies along the line of your collarbones; barely waiting for the contusions to bloom before he’s nipping at them again. The carelessness of his teeth, the crude sensuality of his touches— it’s enough to strip you down into a writhing mess beneath him.

Barely a second passes after Joshua decides he’s done marking your neck that he suddenly licks a messy line up your chest, attaching his mouth to one of your nipples and slurping with obscene moans. Oh my God, was he trying to kill you?! Your mouth falls open in surprise, fingers gripping the sheets as you writhe underneath him.

“Joshua—“ you start to say but he just laughs, cutting you off. It's not a sound of comfort, but derision.

“We’ve barely done anything, and already my name seems to be stuck on your tongue,” he remarks, sitting back to admire his handiwork. This man truly is shameless with the way he looks at your body with pride. Covering up the clusterfuck of bites across your chest is going to be no easy feat.

Your tongue seems to be stuck in your mouth. Truly you can’t even form words. And what’s even worse is that he’s right, because the most you’ve done is make out for a while. Oh God, he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

His tongue trails down your stomach, leaving a few kisses here and there, stopping right above the waistband of your underwear. Joshua smirks, as his fingers brush over your panties. They're completely soaked and the embarrassment has you hiding your face in your hands.

"All for me?" he asks, before pressing a few kisses along the inside of your thigh. His hair tickles your skin as his fingers playfully pull aside your panties.

"Don't flatter yourself," you say, breathlessly. Joshua simply hums in response, his fingers dangerously close to your crotch.

He draws himself up, leaning over you. A few dark strands of hair fall in his eyes.

"Can I?" he whispers, just above your mouth. You simply nod, afraid of the things that will come out of your mouth if you speak.

And then he's pressing two long fingers into you, watching with rapt attention as you toss your head back in pleasure, stuffing your hand in your mouth to stifle the sounds threatening to spill out. His fingers curl in that wicked "come here" motion that has you winded, clutching the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut. The longer you clench down on your jaw, the more difficult Joshua seems to be making it, scissoring and twisting his fingers until you think you might just scream. You're in a fucking studio for God's sake, but Joshua seems hellbent on breaking you as he pushes his fingers even deeper, to the knuckle, inside you. The icy cold metal of his rings presses against your skin, boiling hot.

Joshua smirks as he toys with you, even leaning over to recapture one of your nipples in his teeth.

"Joshua—mmph," you moan, and Joshua actually places a hand over your mouth, smiling condescendingly.

"If you're too loud I won't keep going," he says, as you roll your eyes. Didn't he know you were doing your best? It's not your fault his fingers are stuffed in your pussy and he expects you to stay silent. Plus there's something kind of thrilling about hooking up in such a public space. But when you don't respond, he stills his hand, leaving you clenching around his fingers desperately.

So you nod, eyes fluttering shut as he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you again, each time a little bit faster. Joshua's hand explores all parts of you while his mouth explores your neck, never leaving you a moment to breathe. There's something about the way he moves his fingers that has you curving your back into him, fingers weaving into the hair on the nape of his neck as if to pull him into a desperate embrace. But Joshua turns his head before you can kiss him, instead paralyzing you under a disapproving glare.

"I told you to stop moving, didn't I?" he says with mock sympathy, pressing a large hand against your pelvis to pin you to the bed. The pressure on your stomach only further increases your arousal, and you hold back a groan as Joshua attaches his mouth to the pulse point in your neck.

It only takes a few more measly minutes before you're falling apart, fingers digging into Joshua's arms as he brings you over the edge. Warmth pulses through your body and you flop back onto the bed, completely speechless.

Joshua looks satisfied at your dazed expression as he slowly drags his fingers out of you. You watch as he places them on his tongue, messily licking your arousal from his hand, never once taking his eyes off of you. Fuck.

"Turn around and get on your knees," Joshua then orders, sitting back to watch you scramble to kneel, feeling a little stupid. You're not sure what he's going to do when you feel his large hand on the back of your head, shoving you facedown onto the mattress. You let out a choked whine as Joshua lands a firm smack against your ass, and then another, and then another. Each one leaves your skin red and stinging and a little tender, and by the time he's done your eyes are watering. You refuse to look at Joshua—you don't want him to see you crying.

But still, he says nothing, and for a stupid moment, you wonder if he’s done with you. You're a little disappointed until you hear the sound of a belt buckle clinking and clothing being tossed. You turn to look, but Joshua forces your head against the mattress again, yanking a little on your hair as he pulls away.

"Do you still wanna to do this?" is all Joshua asks.

Well, you're currently laying ass-up in the middle of a prop bed, waiting for him to shove his fat cock into you until you scream like a worthless slut.

Truly, there was no recovery from this.

So you breathe out a strangled "Yes," before Joshua is pushing his cock into you without hesitation, and the work of his fingers certainly helped a little bit, but you weren't expecting him to be so...well-endowed.

You shove your face into the pillow, smothering the loud moan that falls from your lips as Joshua slowly, slowly thrusts into you. His hold on your waist is bruising, and with your face hidden from view, you miss the way his head tips back in ecstasy.

Not that Joshua would ever let you know the effect you had on him— the sight of your needy body giving in to his every move, the cloying scent of your perfume just as intoxicating as your dripping cunt. You drive him absolutely wild.

Joshua’s voice is strained. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, bending forward to grab one of your shoulders as he thrusts his cock in a few more inches. Joshua has a way of melting you with every touch, like he knows your body better than you ever could. You let out another weak sob, your face buried into the silk of the sheets. He can not see how irrevocably aroused you are by him and his words and his vicious tongue.

“There’s no shame in crying,” Joshua chides the longer you hide your face, but you feel the smugness in every word suffocating you until you could cry from your pent-up sexual frustration.

"I'm not crying," you spit back, screwing up your face as he pushes even deeper into you. “I don’t— I don’t cry.”

You imagine he’s smiling with that same fake sympathy as he watches your body shake, and the image of Joshua taking you from behind is enough for you let out another particularly strangled cry. But before the mortification even has time to settle in your chest, Joshua sinks the rest of his cock into you, bottoming out in one smooth motion. He lets out a string of expletives under his breath, fingers digging into your hips like he’s holding onto his last thread of reality. Secretly you’re pleased you have such an effect on him.

“Jesus, would you relax?” Joshua mutters with exasperation, as your cunt clenches around him tightly. You try to tell him it’s not really your fault, but before you can answer, he deals a particularly harsh spank to your ass that knocks the air out of your lungs.

Thankfully he gives you a brief moment, even if it’s just a breadth of a second to adjust before he’s drawing his hips back and thrusting forward with brutal efficiency. You smother your face into the covers, muffling your sounds of deep satisfaction with the comforter.

Clearly, Joshua has done this before, because he fishes for one of the pillows, lifting your hips to shove it under your pelvis before snapping his hips back again, slowly building speed until he’s just shy of pounding you into oblivion. Every so often Joshua’s cock brushes against that spot, leaving your cunt clenching involuntarily, and you have to bite down to keep your pitiful whines from escaping. Just to tease you even more, he leans forward to leave harsh bites across your shoulders, all the while murmuring how good you look from behind. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the sound of Joshua’s shallow breath is erotic, and it makes your head positively swim.

“Fuck!” you whimper as Joshua continues to rail you without mercy, the brutal steady pace of each stroke bringing you closer and closer to your release. The pleasure is reaching white-hot status, pulsing in your stomach and slowly spilling into the rest of your body. It takes everything in you not to cry out in frustration as Joshua suddenly slows, just shy of stopping completely. He wraps an arm around your waist, hand flush against your stomach as he leans his weight against your back.

“Now, you know that’s not my name,” Joshua simpers, breath hot against your ear. He shallowly rocks his hips, coaxing a few more weak babbles from your lips. “Try again.” He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, and the motion would be tender if he wasn’t oozing sordid satisfaction at seeing you all hot and bothered by him.

“J-Joshua,” you beg, clawing at the sheets. And then humiliation blooms in your chest at how quickly you act to please him, but there’s something so sadistically fulfilling about being abused by this man that you can’t even get yourself to care. You’re fucking your enemy in broad daylight in a studio of Vogue. Really, there's little left for you at this point.

"That's right," he whispers.

You let out a particularly drawn-out groan of pleasure as he snaps his hips quickly, bringing the pace back to the same mind-blowing rhythm as before, arching your spine until you feel like you might snap. Joshua’s fingers in your hair tug your head back as he whispers vile sweet nothings into your ear. The messy symphony of sounds echoing throughout the room is just shy of pornographic. You clutch the sheets tightly in your fingers as your head tips forward in pleasure. Every muscle in your body is taut as your orgasm builds every second.

As your eyes flutter shut in anticipation, you start to say, “I’m gonna—!”

Except, of course, Joshua won't let you off that easy.

Just as you think you're about to reach your climax, he stills his hips for an agonizing second, rocking them slowly, slowly, slowly into you. Your release fades just as quickly as it appeared, and now your whole body is uncomfortably sensitive. This time you do groan in frustration, stuffing your face in one of the pillows again.

"Fuck you," you curse, but it's weak and hardly venomous. Your head is cloudy and full of fluff and in your pitiful state, it's the best you can manage. Joshua merely seems amused by your distress, fingers petting your head again as if to comfort you. You take a moment, breathing through the burn of arousal through your entire body.

Then Joshua snakes an arm around your throat, yanking you against his chest in one smooth motion. Your moans come out as choked whines, fingers digging into the firm flesh of his forearm in deep ecstasy. You feel Joshua smile against your ear, before his free hand creeps down to finally touch your aching clit, his fingers just barely grazing your skin. This bastard.

"Aren't you?" he mutters in your ear, landing a firm smack on your cunt and you gasp, jerking forward as much as you can while being restrained. The ache in your body is unbearable; you don't know how much more you can take.

Joshua presses a few digits against your lips, coaxing your mouth open, and unceremoniously forces his fingers in without a second thought. He presses down roughly on your tongue, massaging a few circles with the pads of his fingers. You whimper again, but the words won’t come out.

“Use your words,” he murmurs, and you can practically feel the arrogance dripping from his voice. “I can’t do anything unless you tell me.”

Evil, evil, evil man. You can’t even form syllables with his fingers shoved so far down your throat, and you’re half tempted to bite them off. But then Joshua ruts into you again, drawing a low groan from your throat as you fight to keep your composure. His chest is scalding hot against your back, electricity zipping up and down your spine every time you feel your bodies move and shift against each other.

God, you feel as if you could unravel right here. You’re half-tempted to plead to Joshua (once he finally takes his fingers out of your mouth) that he could do what he wanted with you, but the half-cognizant portion of your brain quietly reminds you that you need to be able to walk later.

Plus, you have a sneaking suspicion he'll do just that anyway.

Joshua withdraws his fingers from your mouth and you choke for air, drool dribbling from your lips. He hardly lets you catch your breath before brazenly spitting on his already-soaked fingers, lowering his hand to rub cruel circles against your painfully tender clit. He’s barely touched you before you feel your climax re-building. Your body acts before you do, succumbing to Joshua like a wretched woman starved.

“So touchy…,” he muses, as he continues to play with your clit, even tweaking occasionally to watch you writhe under him. Your stomach spasms as you gasp, digging your nails into Joshua’s thighs. You snake a hand up his neck, twisting your fingers in his thick, dark locks.

The words never even make it out of your mouth before Joshua draws his fingers away, jerking you roughly up by your hair.

“Flip over,” Joshua says tersely, watching with amusement as you ungracefully slide off of his cock to lay on your back. You’re embarrassed by how needy and clumsy you’ve become. Joshua is criminally good as what he does, and your body is craving that final release; if he so much as looked at you a certain way you swear you might come untouched.

Joshua spits on his hand again and pumps his cock a few times, eyes roaming over your body again, mapping the contusions blooming across your skin. His ego truly is through the roof, and if you weren't such a pathetic, wanton beast right now, you might even make fun of him for it. Dimly, you hope he’s going to shove his cock back in you and pound you into the mattress until you both come and that’d be the end of it. Problem solved! We can all go home now.

Well… you were half right.

You weren't prepared for Joshua to press on the backs of your thighs until your knees were by your ears, crudely spreading your legs wider for him. He smiles up at you, smacking his cock against your cunt a few times and you choke, each lewd slap driving you nearer to the edge of madness. Joshua leans up against you until his face is inches away and presses a languid kiss to your lips. If you weren’t fearing for your sanity, it might’ve been a tender moment.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you scream,” Joshua says, without decorum, calmly watching as your face falls. "And you're going to take it."

And he’s nothing if not a man of his word.

Joshua fucks you into the mattress until you’re a snotty, disgusting mess, moaning his name like some kind of fucked-up mantra. You know you’re supposed to hate his guts, but when he’s so deep in your guts, you can’t seem to think about anything except the way his cock slams into you, brutal and unrelenting, bringing you the closest you think you’ve ever come to seeing Heaven.

In the time after you leave, you’ll faintly remember being fucked in one way, coming, being contorted into another degrading position, and promptly being fucked again. For more times than you can count, Joshua has you pleading, crying, begging like some insatiable harlot to let you come, and you don’t even have enough dignity left intact to care.

“Please,” you practically sob, “Joshua, please.” You’re a complete trainwreck under him, uttering his name over and over like some kind of filthy disciple. True to his word, he has you close to tears, practically pleading for his cock to ruin you— and it has.

Joshua braces himself on your thighs until his fingers leave marks, each stroke of his cock feeling even deeper than the last. After what feels like the umpteenth time, you don’t know if you can take any more denial, and he must sense it in the way you're scrabbling for his hand because Joshua finally relents.

You let out the loudest, most unbridled cry yet as pleasure rushes through your body, tingling in your toes, your fingers, your stomach. It scrubs your brain of all thought, wiping the last of your hatred from your consciousness. The intensity of your release leaves you heaving, clenching around his cock until you can't breathe. Caught in the throes of pleasure, you don't see the way Joshua's brow knits together the more you whimper his name, the tighter you grip his forearm. As the very last of your orgasm ebbs, you collapse in relief, feeling woozy and deeply satisfied.

Joshua continues to languidly pump his cock in and out of you while you ride out your high, a few residual whimpers falling from your lips. But with a simple touch from your fingers, he stills, the beginning pangs of overstimulation setting in. Your head feels like it's filled with cotton.

Then you realize Joshua is still painfully hard, struggling to stay present. His hips stutter as he gives a half-hearted thrust, his mouth falling open lazily. Now it’s your turn to smile— little does he know, he’s put himself completely at your mercy. You clench around him a few times, watching with poorly disguised glee as his eyes flutter closed, his breath coming in short, shallow pants.

“Should we deal with this like adults?” you ask as innocently as possible, smiling as Joshua nods desperately, the words lodged in his throat. His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned.

You pull yourself off of his cock slowly, hissing at the tenderness of your cunt. Instead of kneeling, however, you push Joshua onto his back, scarcely giving him a moment before taking him in your mouth.

His cock is still rock hard, and Joshua tilts his head back with a throaty sigh as you moan around his length. His fingers curl into your hair and he pushes on your head, pressing your mouth down until you’re gagging around the base of his cock. Now he’s the one letting out breathy moans as you swirl your tongue around the head, cheeks hollowed, hand twisting up and down in tandem with your tongue. After everything the two of you had done, you know it won’t take long to tip him over the edge.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groans, and as his abdomen tightens in anticipation, you know he’s close. With one last vulgar slurp, Joshua comes hot in your mouth, cursing under his breath as his fingers tense in your hair. You freeze, letting Joshua come down from his high, and as he raises his head to look at you, you smile coyly.

With a soft “pop!” you pull your mouth off his cock, swallowing as you do, letting the self-satisfied smirk spread on your lips. You can't even imagine how indecent you look, with your eyeshadow and mascara smeared ungracefully around your eyes, lips shiny with spit and cum, but there's something in the way Joshua looks at you that has you reeling with delight.

“Christ,” is all Joshua manages to say before pulling you by the back of the head into a searing kiss. It’s a strangely intimate embrace considering all of the filthy words and insults he had hurled at you a few brief moments before, but considering he had also given you the best orgasm of your life, you choose not to dwell too much on it.

When you break away, you feel a little light-headed. Joshua gives your ass a light smack, but it lacks the same aggression as before. He notices a stray dribble of cum on your chin, and collects it on his pointer finger, pushing it between your lips. You swirl your tongue around it, watching as his eyes burn. He pulls his finger from your mouth, resting his hand on your thigh instead.

"You look… crazy," Joshua says, fighting a smile. You catch sight of yourself in a mirror on the make-up table and let out a bark of laughter.

“Crazy” is the understatement of the year. You look fucked out of your mind. Your hair is knotted beyond belief, there's a jumble of bruises all across your chest, and there's no convincing excuse as to why your makeup would be completely streaked across your face. You hide your face in one of the pillows again, letting out a feeble groan.

"I'm gonna get fired, and it's all your fault," you moan, hiccuping into the soft silk of the pillowcase. Joshua presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, surprisingly kind, and chuckles.

"Well, lucky for you, I happen to know a thing or two about make-up.” He slides easily off the bed, pulling his pants back on before padding softly over to the make-up table. Joshua grabs a few brushes and bottles, joining you again on the bed, tugging you gently into a sitting position.

As he covers your ruined eye shadow, you wince a little, a dull twinge reminding you of the ache in your ass cheeks. To be honest, most of your body was a little sore, all thanks to Joshua. You laugh softly.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "I got a little carried away."

“Was that ‘dealing with it like adults?’” you ask mockingly, shutting your eye as Joshua lifts the eyeshadow brush. The soft hairs dance across your eyelid as he works. Joshua's skin still smells like it did all those years ago. Warm and citrusy.

You can’t see him, but you hear the smirk in his voice. “I guess so.”

“Well, for the record, you definitely were the one being childish.” You make a sound of surprise as you feel a pair of lips against your own, fierce and hot. His teeth drag at your bottom lip as he pulls away, and you are unsuccessful at stifling the soft hiccup that escapes your throat.

“Who was the one crying just a little bit ago?” Joshua challenges you, and when you open your eyes, he’s sitting in front of you, nose just inches from your own. “Didn’t you say you don’t usually cry?”

You open your mouth, ready to shoot back a bitchy little return when you see the smirk playing on Joshua’s lips. He’s goading you on.

“That’s not fair and you know it,” you respond instead, hoping you seem nonchalant enough. (Or, at least, as much as you can be while you’re still butt-ass naked.)

Joshua laughs, and the sound is surprisingly stunning. “Since when have I ever been fair?” He hands you your little silk dress and your thong from the floor, and it almost feels silly to be putting it back on, the delicate fabric still hardly covering anything at all.

But he pouts, toying with one of the straps in between his fingers. “I’m almost sad to see you put this back on. You look so pretty all fucked up underneath me.” He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, eyes sparkling mischievously, and you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t jump into your throat.

You scoff, eyebrows rising on your forehead. “You’ll be lucky if you see me like that again after last time.”

He frowns, his smile sinking. “Yeah…,” Joshua scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “I— I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what I was thinking—"

“It was horrible,” you interrupt. "And this," you say, gesturing to the bed, "doesn't erase that."

But Joshua does look apologetic and it was long enough ago that you’re not that mad anymore. At least, in your post-coital bliss you certainly aren’t.

Joshua sits on the bed again, grabbing your hand in his. “Come home with me. I’ll make it up to you.” He presses a tentative kiss to your cheek for extra measure.

You fight a smile, forcing yourself to frown instead. “Only if I don’t lose my job, and only if you help me cover these fucking hickies you gave me.”

Joshua smiles, and he looks so different from the Joshua you met a couple hours ago that you can’t help but smile, too.

When the crew comes back in the room, you try desperately to act as if nothing had happened, but every time Joshua looks at you, you have to suppress the girlish smile playing on your lips. The marks across your chest had been haphazardly covered with foundation, and the hair team looks bewildered as they assess the birds' nest on your head.

"What the hell did you do on your lunch break?" the stylist asks as she attacks the knots with a comb.

It takes everything in you to avoid Joshua's eye. You clap a hand to your mouth a second too late as an ugly snort bursts past your lips, and you freeze, eyes wide. Joshua grins broadly, and you turn your head, fanning your bright red face.

Later that night, as you watch Joshua’s sleeping figure in the soft moonlight, you wonder how you managed to find yourself in his bed again, and when he kisses you good morning the next day, you’re sure it won’t be the last time.

----

a/n: i have never publically shared any smut before so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!! :,) thank u for reading bae can't wait to share my next one <333

check out my other stuff! :)

#kpop #kpop imagines #seventeen #svt #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #svt imagines #joshua hong #joshua smut #hong jisoo

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cathchicken · 9 months

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Ok so here is my view regarding the betty and Simon stuff from the finale, cause. I got things to say (spoilers ofc)

basically I am satisfied with the direction they went with Simon, him choosing to accept Betty how she is and learning to move on and find that he is worthy of staying alive even without her is good. Tough, but good. Also the little detail of the Betty statue being golbetty now is nice reminder of that too. Now, for Betty? I’m not sure… when I watched the scene where she says goodbye, it hurt but it made sense. She is letting go to do her own things.

But, then it shows her destination changing to a demonic place, and her becoming golbetty. It makes me think. Is she really happy with this reality? Simon is safe but, even if she’s fairing well as golb, I don’t actually know if this is truly what she wants for herself. I feel like if there’s a season two, maybe expanding on Betty’s true ending would be interesting… I don’t want her to change “back” or be with Simon, necessarily. I want her to become what she wants for herself.

Now ofc, what she really wanted was to keep Simon safe. And as Golbetty she also saved ooo. Maybe she is happy with this, that she can protect the people she cares about. But again, I feel like it… isn’t fair for her. It’s reality, it’s not like we can go back in time and change that. That was the main point of the bus scene anyway. But moving forward, and thinking about Fionna’s “shouldn’t we get to die as ourselves?” line makes me feel that this isn’t Betty’s end. Simon and Betty have reached a consensus and understanding of the flaws of their relationship and how they should move on. But for herself… Betty is still sort of left in the dust.

Now I don’t think this loose end is a bad thing for this season. Like, the whole season was about Simons struggles and Fionna’s. Betty was a very minor character and if anything it makes sense if her current issues are left untouched for now. If they do plan to extend the series in some sort of way, which seems possible, I feel like this Betty conflict might have been intentionally left unresolved. Because hell yes, I would absolutely take a season/mini series dedicated to specifically wrapping up Betty’s story.

I’m not sure how that would fit in specifically in Fionna and Cake though..? Because besides Simon, Fionna’s story was. Wrapped up pretty tightly. I can’t think of anything a second season could do to expand her world more… hmmmm….

All in all, the finale was really good to me. Episode ten definitely felt rushed but they had the right ideas, so I’m not too disappointed. Although I felt like Scarab was a bit underwhelming… he didn’t feel like a big threat to me in the end. Sort of a shame. Oh well. But hey, it leaves me wanting more!! Cause I can’t get enough of this series haha. Or maybe just adventure time in general :)

Edit: also I forgot about this. Erm what is she doing here, it looks like she’s changing form..??? What does it mean WHAT DOES IT MEAN

Like guys there HAS to be more to her story. There’s gotta be.

#fionna and cake spoilers #fionna and cake #text post #theory #(sort of)

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thatscarletflycatcher · 11 days

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Hey! I hope this isn't weird but I thought you might be a good person to ask. Are there any good movie adaptations of Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights? I've never seen any movies based off of them and don't want to dive into one that isn't half-decent. Thank you!

Hi!!! Not weird, not weird at all, very welcome!

Problem, though. What "good" means in this case is contentious XD

Related problem: I did start a series of reviews of Jane Eyre adaptations... two years ago? Did 83' and 96' and got stuck on 97' (the plan was to do 73, 2006 and 2011 afterwards, then do Wuthering Heights 78-92-98-09).

The thing is that they are all different, and counted the exceptions I DNFed or just outright disliked, I have enjoyed them all in their own ways, even ones that the fandom at large thinks are bad. My recommendation in terms of my value judgement of the things is probably not to be trusted XD But I'll give you a summary of what I think are the strengths and weaknesses of each, and maybe that helps?

Jane Eyre

Movies:

1943: it is acclaimed for its visuals, which are really interesting and Gothic. Did not care at all for the writing or the casting or the acting.

1970: DNFed, but I wish I could have finished it. I think the most fitting description of the core of this adaptation is how someone in a podcast characterized the main couple as "a cute middle aged couple". The budget is low. "that woman is wearing a reject Sound of Music costume" low. George C. Scott and Susannah York in the leading roles are... a choice. Even the John Williams (yes, THAT John Williams) score is kind of underwhelming.

1996: If you have watched the 1996 Emma with Gwyneth Paltrow, this is kinda sorta the same thing for Jane Eyre. But it has more substance. It is transformative in a very intentional, commentary way, there's an interesting play with the imagery of portraits-true character and mirrors-anxiety, it focuses on the concept of tenderness for the romantic plot, and highlights more than any of the others the themes of providence and compassion/mercy. But... well, because of all that, it is very... ungothic. So if you love Jane Eyre because of the gothicness and the Rochester shenanigans then you'll probably hate this one.

Check out the OST, though. It's wonderful. I'd say it's the best Jane Eyre score so far, and it's at the very least severely underrated.

Charlotte Gainsbourg is probably my favorite Jane. She embodies really well the "nunnish on the outside, a storm of passions underneath" thing, even if she's tall (and yay for a non-supermodel in the role!), and I also really like the expanded role for Adele.

1997: the Cinderella of Jane Eyre adaptations. Yes, Ciaran Hinds has the mustache of horrors, and for some reason his Rochester here is so much more exaggerated and cartoonish than the one he did in the 1994 radio drama. Yes the modernized dialogue is painful at times. It deserves some of its bad reputation. But I cannot hate it because it has some fine things that I think are often downplayed:

-It's the movie adaptation that manages to cram in the most plot, even if it sometimes does it in a kind of ridiculous way (the worst offender is Jane leaving Thornfield for Gateshead and returning on the very next scene.): it has the rendering of the veil and the trip to Milcotte, for example.

-It has a really great Adele. You can tell how someone like Charlotte Brontë would see this girl as a mini-slut in the making because FRENCH, but she's actually just a lively, charming little girl.

-the sunrise scene after Mason is attacked is not noticed enough. The work of filming and editing a sunrise scene so that the continuity of it works... is definitely more than the writing of this one deserves.

-The portrayal of Bertha. Curiously enough, this is the Rochester that shows the most compassion and understanding for Bertha, and in general it is done so that the audience also feels the same.

-The reunion scene is good. "I am reminded that Ciaran Hinds and Samantha Morton are great actors" good. The way Hinds delivers "My heart will burst for want to see your face" almost makes up for the rest of his acting in the movie XD

-I honestly think that "St John Rivers but with the vibes of a manic crazy cult leader" is kind of inspired translation??

The score on this one is really pretty too.

2011: What can I say about this one, on Tumblr dot com of all places? it's really atmospheric and moody and pensive. If you are a Gothic vibes girlie, this one is for you. It is a movie I like the most when it's been a long time since I have watched it XD It's weird, but it is what it is. The whole thing plays with this concept of sleep and the sleep of death, and of being in love as being awake, so that both Rochester and Jane are asleep until they fall in love with each other, and they feel so alive once they become engaged, but it is the "alive" inside a strange, twilight dream, unlike the very end when they are both alive and awake with the freshness of an early morning, and it ending with the exchange "-I Dream! -Awaken, then." muaaah, *chef kiss*

It is a dem' vibes movie. If you are not a dem' vibes person, I don't think it will be for you. Fassbender makes for a rather dour Rochester, and many pieces of dialogue and plot are sacrificed to this dreamlike concept (which I'm not mad about it. There's so many adaptations it is good that there's the room to play with that).

The series:

1973: Listen, I love 1973. It is the most complete adaptation (some people will contend 83 is more complete, but 83 omits the whole of Helen Burns' death and that's such a huge omission in my eyes I cannot concede). It takes its time to do Lowood and do it well, with a really good Helen and a really good Miss Temple. But the crown of the thing is Michael Jayston's Rochester. He just embodies Rochester's pathetic, unhinged, impish and at the same time dead seriously emotional character SO WELL. I know people love Toby Stephens, and who doesn't, but he's helped by being a very athletic and handsome man who looked younger than he was. Jayston has none of that going for him, and he still manages to deliver a fascinating and touching performance.

What can be a stumbling block with this adaptation is... Jane. She's not a bad actress, not at all, and she has the most delicious chemistry with Rochester, they are very much on the same wavelength and play off each other really well. But this Jane is a happy go lucky creature, and it cannot be helped XD woman goes through life experiencing the horrors and most of the time reacting to them with a smile and a "LOL", and I get how that could be disappointing for some people.

But in the end, I feel the combination of "really good Lowood" "Really good Rochester" "fidelity to the novel language" and "thoroughness with the plot" is a rare one and puts this adaptation on the top.

1983: This one has many, many fans. I'm ambivalent about it. It is a pretty complete series, and I know a lot of people find Timothy Dalton really good as Rochester. I personally feel that this is the one adaptation where Rochester and Jane are being directed and portrayed in such a way as to never really connect or play off each other. Even 1997 with it's mustachioed shouting, personal effects throwing, arm grabbing Rochester is matched by a Jane who is never afraid of him and who swears she will POUND DOWN A DOOR if he throws her out, and then proceeds to grab his jaw tight to deliver the rest of her line. Truly crazy x crazy in that one. 73 is fun x fun, 96 is tired x tired, 11 is depressed x depressed... in 83 Dalton is larger than life, and Zelah is at turns confused, apparently hurt, or straight out bewildered at him.

And it isn't the actress fault! Because here is the thing I love in this adaptation: the Rivers plot. The Rivers plot is excellent. The way Jane and St. John's actors play off each other is so so so so good. How she starts by being very free and independent and contestatarian, and how his influence creeps on her and subjugates her bit by bit. It's wonderful. So well done.

So, hm, overall, it goes pretty low on my list but be fully aware this is an unpopular opinion XD

2006: What to say about 2006? It is beloved for a reason. I'd characterize it as the romance novel of Jane Eyre; it cares very little for anything that isn't the Jane-Rochester romance, and it does a lot to sand down the less likeable aspects of it in the original story (for example, Rochester is characterized as younger and Jane as older).

It is somewhere halfway between Emma (2009) and North and South (2004) in the Sandy Welch screenplay scale in terms of the bold choices that sometimes pay off and sometimes don't. They addition of contexts in natural science, the fascination with phrenology and heredity, those are well done. The twin metaphor is not. The modernization of the language works really well, and Welch has always been really good at that (I mean, she sneaks a star wars reference in a st. John line, and then there's the literal red flag, how does she do it).

It is a very enjoyable period drama, and has all the touching bits, but personally I sometimes feel like I am cheating the novel when I watch it XD Well, and of course it has the advantage of modern filming techniques against both 73 and 83.

Wuthering Heights! This one is trickier Because the adaptations are fuzzier in my mind, so it will be shorter, but something is something (?)

1970: It's only the first half, and I. Did. Not. Like. It. Someone would maliciously say that it is because I hate Timothy Dalton, but that's not true, he's a riot in Hot Fuzz, and I have even considered watching his James Bond movies because of him. It just... IDK. Didn't care for it. I remember it has a very long, very uncomfortable kiss scene that makes the one at the almost-end of Persuasion 2007 feel quick and breezy.

1978: This one has the advantage of being a miniseries. For the BBC in the 70s, they really splurged on this one for sets, cast, and it even has some interesting camera work in it, which wasn't common. I do have the idea that it is, of the filmed adaptations, the one that seems to be overall most liked. I remember I really liked the kid actors, but didn't jive with the older actors at all.

1992: This one is kinda sorta similar to Jane Eyre 1996 in that it is a very softened, stylized, "prettied" adaptation of the story. I remember Cathy I being kind of a manic pixie girl but with a bit of a temper? And Binoche played Cathy II as well, which was A ChoiceTM?

But I cannot say I disliked it overall, because it IS pretty (and if you are a costume person then it is for you). The score was gorgeous, and I like Juliette Binoche and Ralph Fiennes a lot. But definitely get why if you are a big Wuthering Heights fan it wouldn't be your cup of tea.

1998: I remember really liking this one, specially in terms of the atmosphere. It departs from the novel in some significant ways that don't always land, it gets a bit silly several times, but I felt it was dynamic and grim enough without being unbearable, and I really liked the cast too, specially Orla Brady's Cathy, and think Robert Cavanaugh would have done really well with less flanderized characterization.

2009: This one... this one is... not good XD It cannot agree with itself which is the time setting, the opening in media res is a very confusing choice, and the recourse to adding some sex scenes to make it hip (it has that "made for high school classes" vibe to it) is *something* as well. The poorly modernized language doesn't help.

BUT

Tom Hardy as Heathcliff. He may not look the part, but he plays it deliciously well in every part of the story. It is truly inspired and mesmerizing to watch, and that alone would make it worth watching. And there's also Andrew Lincoln as Edgar, and who can resist Andrew Lincoln?

2011: I DNFed this one. It has a very Terrence Malick sort of style going for it, minimal dialogue and lots of long moody shots, and I cannot explain enough how I don't have the patience for that.

Now, Unlike Jane Eyre, for which I haven't found a radio drama that I like, the 1995 BBC radio drama for Wuthering Heights is just excellent, one of the best they have ever made, IMO. So while I know when someone asks me for an adaptation they mean an audiovisual one, I cannot help but recommend this one as the best I know, just in case.

#silvermarmoset #ask #Wuthering Heights #Jane Eyre #adaptations

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blessedshortcake · 9 months

Text

My opinion on the finale episodes below the cut. Obviously spoiler warning lol

First of all. I see people say it was really underwhelming and i kinda have to agree? It wasnt a Bad ending or a lazy one or whatever words have been thrown around tho imo. I feel like with all the hype about how "painful" and emotional itll be from the VA and from everyone, we all just expected more tragic outcomes or something.

I am dissappointed because of that as well. I liked how Simon finally reflected a bit and had some self awareness about their situation with Betty. I loved that he didnt become Ice King again or that they didnt do some actual time travel to "fix" stuff. I also liked that they didnt necessarily made him a bad husband (?/boyfriend?) he kinda just never realised that Betty has been putting more into their duo than he was.

That doesnt make him innocent tho b4 someone comes at me. He was a bit too self absorbed but i dont think he was entirely selfish either. He was a person who made mistakes and didnt realise them. The line where he said smt like "i wish we could have talked like this before" also makes it pretty clear to me that Betty never really spoke up about these things either. Golbetty had to make him aware and tbh? I think that was more Golb than Betty.

The whole Scarab ordeal felt a bit. Ehhhhhh I dont know. His anger reaction to things suddenly becoming "canon" (lmao) was very nice to see but him being allowed to wreck havoc like that for a good while felt more like an excuse to bring the others into this world. I dont have a problem with it btw i just dont see the point why we need Farmwold Jay and Little... I forgot her name damn. Also whys Babyworld Finn here 😭 (i get it, he was in the tank, i dont mean literally i mean Why)

As much as i was soooo mad when LSP freed the scarabs it was very in character. I like how it was a thing that he likes animals from the start so it wasnt senseless stupidity, it was something he would do even tho it was the wrong thing to do. Made me pause and lay down to stare at the ceiling in frustration for a solid minute i cant lie, still in chacter tho.

But alas. I like how in the end it all didnt turn magical (completely since ig its partially magical with Cake and everything else) and how Cake finally cooled down about the crown. IM ALSO SO HAPPY THEY KEEP IN TOUCH WITH SIMON OVER THE PHONEEE!! But yea him wanting to move was so real and I hope he does lmao he deserves it.

I only kinda wish they made him reconnect with Marcy a bit more. I am actually pretty dissappointed that we dont know if he ended up reaching out to her more or not. I understand his situation with not wanting to spook her, i actually feel that bit in a soul connecting level good god, but idk. Im at least happy he is Literally in therapy now

(Kinda makes me wonder tho if he spent the time between the end of AT and the start of FC with no like therapist or psychologist. Just rawdogging his mental illness about everything. Mood tbh but like did he? Did he??)

Anyway despite my slight dissappointment i am actually pretty happy with the outcome. I really liked the theories and the ideas of how Simon may make FC magical or what he will become but tbh this is probably the best outcome. Everyone got a happy/hopeful ending (minus Farmwold Finn ig who im atp assuming is dead. Also Star Marceline and PB) which i am really REALLY happy about.

I gotta say I already wanna write fanfic about these guys so inspirational effect granted. Woooo.

Tldr

I was kinda dissappointed because it was overhyped about how emotional it will be when it really wasnt but other than that I am really happy about how the ending turned out save for the alternatives staying in FC

Edit: I SEE PEOPLE TALK ABOUT THE WHOLE SHOW DONT TELL THING AND TBHHH??? TTTTBBBHHHH??? YEAH. IT WAS ALL JUST TALKED ABOUT LIKE WHAT ABOUT SYMBOLISM? MY GOD.

Also Simon had like 10 minutes to get closure with Betty which was horrifically rushed but again, when your wife turns into Basically God you kinda dont really have a choice to chit chat. Still not happy about it but again, could have been worse. Could have been much worse.

#fionna and cake spoilers #fionna and cake #fiona and cake #fiona and cake spoilers #long post

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airasora · 4 months

Text

Disney princess gowns from best to worst IMO

@little-bloodied-angel asked me what my favorite and least favorite Disney gowns were so it inspired me to ALSO make my first tier template ever, which you can try yourself HERE! Do reblog my post with your answer to it or tag me in your post if you want to share, I'm curious :D

Tiana

I LOVE this dress! It's got everything I would love in a princess gown: Big and poofy yet elegant, has flowers and leaves which gives it a forest feel and it sparkles! Only thing I'd change is the color cause I'm not a big fan of green, but for Tiana, it's obviously perfect.

Pocahontas

Yes, it's a sequel dress. Yes, it's not something Pocahontas would choose. Yes,l it represents some icky things, but if I look at JUST the dress and not what it represents, I freaking love it. What really sells it to me is that despite the colors being muted and elegant, there's turquoise elements in it which makes it stand out.

Jasmine

I HATE SHE ONLY WEARS THIS FOR A COUPLE OF MINUTES AND THEN NEVER AGAIN IN ANY OF THE GODDAMN SEQUELS! I love that Jasmine is a pants girl, but this purple dress is so freaking cute. It's less sexy than her normal outfit, but still sexy, I love purple and I honestly prefer these earrings in comparison to her normal ones that are just too chunky for my taste.

Anna

This might be the Scandinavian in me, but I love the patterns on Anna's dress. It's big and poofy at the bottom, but more loose and has room for movements due to the bare arms. It's formal without being stuffy.

Rapunzel

Her ending dress is grossly underrated and if anyone of you knows of a cosplayer who has made this dress irl, let me know cause I'd love to see this dress come to life. I think her normal dress is cute too, but this is utterly adorable.

Merida

I really like Merida's normal dress, but this is about the "gowns" and since this is the more formal attire she has, that's the one that had to be on the list. I do really like this one (as long as it wouldn't be so goddamn tight on her lol) It's simple and elegant, I love the blue and gold, and I love the simplicity of it until the very bottom where we get multi-colored gems and a really cute pattern.

Belle

We're getting to the "meh" tier now and it may come as a surprise to some of you that, despite my love for Belle, I don't care for her ballgown. One reason is that I straight up don't see Belle choosing that type of gown for herself. I know that "logically" she kinda just has to wear whatever is available, so whatever, but I genuinely don't think Belle would choose that dress for herself if she had completely free choice. And the other reason is that I just am not a big fan of yellow... most of the time. Not always. I've seen this dress in multiple different colors at this point (mostly because of my own experimentation) and I like it a lot more in almost every single other color.

Ariel

I don't mind this dress too much. I think it's cute... for Ariel. Pink looks really good on redheads, I like that it's big, but also somewhat muted. I like the long sleeves, but HATE the poofy shoulders. I despise puff sleeves, unless they're very controlled (like on Rapunzel). Her wedding dress is a million times worse though xD

Elsa

The dress that inspired the post to begin with... Elsa's ice gown. It's... fine. Could have had WAY more fun with the ice and snow theme so as it is it's a bit underwhelming. It's kinda cute... and that's it.

Mulan

I was neutral on Mulan's hanfu until I actually looked up hanfu to see more examples of it and then I started hating it. What the FUCK is this, Disney??? Literally the first 50 images that show up when you google "hanfu" are a million times more gorgeous than this. I don't want to step on any toes if I'm accidentally being culturally ignorant here, but judging this purely as a "princess dress"... it could just have been so much better. (Seriously, google "hanfu", holy crap can they be gorgeous!) I'm so mad at this one, I might edit Mulan into a different hanfu xD

Kida

... only thing I like about this one is the random cold shoulders. Or, well, not shoulders, it's more like part of the upper arms, but you know what I mean. It's just... wah.

Aurora

I don't care if it's pink or blue, it's boring. I like the stabbing potential from the shoulders, but that's it. It's too simple. And, again, look up princess gowns from this historic period and you'll see so many gorgeous dresses. Wasted opportunity.

Cinderella

I SWEAR I'm not hating on her dress just cause I don't like her xD Once again, it's just too boring. It's all just one color, there's close to no accessories, accents or just... something. With Belle's dress, there's at least bows and pearls to give it some more oomph. And while those puffy shoulders aren't a travesty like Ariel's are, they just look so fucking weird x'D

Snow White

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS DRESS?! No, seriously, the one who designed it should have been fired the moment they proposed the color scheme. Baby yellow with dark blue and red... WHAT. This is a dress I've hated since I was a child, and my mom can confirm that. I hate it. There's not a single thing about it I like, I legit hate every single thing about this dress and absolutely nothing and no one can change my mind that this is the worst Disney dress PERIOD. Not just princesses, not just backgrounds characters, ALL DRESSES.

Check out my tier list for Disney princess casual outfits here!

#disney #gowns #disney dresses #disney princess gowns #tier

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ysabelmystic · 9 months

Note

For the whole Derek Landy thing, I know it’s not uncommon in the fandom, but I find it strange to judge the quality of the books based on your personal feelings about the writer, because those are two very separate things, as shown by your liking the original books before encountering his online presence. Similarly, I think it’s strange to call Phase Two ‘Trash’ when you’ve only heard about it second hand. It has lots of issues, but I think it’s always worth reading things for yourself and coming to your own conclusions. If it’s still trash then fair enough, but it’s better than missing out on something you might enjoy, or going in with a pre-bias towards disliking it because of your feelings about the author and the words of your peers.

1) these two things are intertwined which I will demonstrate. It’s less about “author bad so book bad” and more about “author does not see good elements that existed and could be expanded upon” and “writing is inconsistent due to elements of author’s personal life”. An example of the first is Derek’s tendency to kill characters off and torture characters for what seems like shock value, judging by several tweets about doing those things specifically to hurt/shock readers. I think this harms the quality of the story because it leaves characters and arcs underdeveloped. Another example would be Derek’s failure to commit to a timeline and take notes (see Grimoire incident). An example of the second would be inconsistent character writing due to opinions of people in the author’s personal life. This is something I somewhat suspected for a while but was seemingly confirmed. Another example is his history of changing editors/publishers.

I actually do still love phase 1 for what it is. Derek would have to do a lot worse to take that enjoyment away.

If you like phase 2 that’s fine. Keep in mind that I’m an overly-analytical bitch who gets Way Too Into Media (I have read phase 1 at least 15 times) and likes writing/talking about it. Maybe if I wasn’t this way I’d be less critical, but I am.

2) i read the first two books of phase 2 and did not care for them. I also know much, much more though than whether people liked or disliked them to the point that admittedly at this point it might’ve been less time-consuming to read the books myself. At best, it seems underwhelming, which by comparison to phase 1, means phase 2 is hot garbage. Not the-worst-garbage-in-the-world garbage, but not great. Of course I will read phase 2, and the prequel, and phase 3 when it comes out. I’m not reading them just to trash them. To my knowledge, I will have some positive things to say. I’ll also be reading Demon Road again (kill me). That, I have nothing good to say about….

Edit: I want to be clear, if I did not care about this series, I wouldn’t be here writing this.

#skulduggery pleasant #Derek Landy

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