so I got my bf into Trollhunters and he turns to me and says “Jim and Strickler look a lot alike”, and I kinda picked up on the resemblances before (esp in some fan arts I’ve seen) but it never hit me just how much they look alike and can we just talk about that for a sec
Character designs are always very conscious and deliberate choices, and Jim and Strickler share a lot of likenesses. They both have long faces, long hooked noses, darker hair, thin lips, noticeable eye bags. Their body types are the same too: long and lean. Jim, in all honesty, looks more like Strickler than his own mother. Barbara has a rounder face, a smaller upturned nose, paler skin, red hair, and electric blue eyes. Very pretty, but not much like her son. We can assume Jim probably takes after his dad in this case, but I think its interesting that Strickler is the only character we’ve physically seen so far who Jim seems to resemble a decent amount. In the words of my bf “imagine what Strickler looked like when he was Jim’s age and tell me they don’t look alike.”
To which you’re probably thinking: ‘so whats the point?’ I don’t know, but characters designed similarly usually indicate similarities between those characters, like in personality or familial relations or maybe to show Jim has some changeling blood in him too. Regardless, I do find the parallels between Jim and Strickler interesting. Such as how they both love knives and are skilled knife twirlers
Or how they prefer passive aggression and snark
Or “Get [Barbara] out of here!” and “I’m only helping you for [Barbara]” aka Barbara Lake is both of their biggest concern always
Or how they trick each other, which I think Jim managing to do is pretty impressive considering Strickler’s a crafty little shit
Or how they come to the same conclusion and concoct the same clever plan to defeat Angor Rot together, following which Strickler claims how he’s surprised how well he and Jim work together. Basically: they make a good team
Or how they love being petty and annoyed with each other, but secretly care about the other
Or how they lie to others (esp Barbara) continuously
Or how they literally yell the same thing in unison at one point
Etc. Jim and Strickler are definitely not the same, like at all. But parallels like these are some of the things that make their interactions so fun and interesting. They have a great dynamic, definitely one of my favorites, and I think their physical similarities kinda emphasize that.
Shawn lets out a shaky breath as he kneels in front of her. He
can’t bring himself to look at her. He must look pathetic, kneeling, naked in
front of her, hard cock flushed red.
“Neglecting your health again? Not getting enough sleep? We
talked about this Shawn…” she chastises him, “Look at me.”
His eyes squeeze shut as shame wells up in him, his cheeks
flushing. A bead of precome drools down his cock. Disgraceful. A small, soft, unyielding hand grips the nape of his
neck, pulling harshly on his short locks of hair. A breathy moan leaves his
mouth as he is forced to look at her, his cheeks burning with humiliation.
“I said, look at me Shawn,“ she commands him, steel in her
voice. His eyes open, looking up at his goddess of a girlfriend. Her fingers,
buried in his curls, tighten their grip as she raises one eyebrow, suspicion in
her eyes. Oh god, she can’t find out. She pulls on his hair and his mouth opens
on a gasp, blood rushing to his cock. Shameful.
“Shawn… Do you like that?”
she asks him. He tries to look away, but her grip only tightens. He bites his
lip, trying desperately to contain the whimper of pleasure-pain.
“I asked you a question, boy. Do you like that?” The control in
her voice sears his skin, and a flush spreads down his chest.
“I - I don’t,” he stutters. Her disbelieving stare
embarrasses him all the more. She can’t know what a disgusting kink he has. How deeply disturbed he is. Disgraceful.
“Do not lie to me, pet. Your cock is dripping all over the
place.” Her matter of fact tone only adds to his embarrassment.
“I’m sorry love. I’ll leave, I promise just- don’t- please don’t
tell anyone?” he begs as he makes to get up, only to have her tiny fist tangle
in his hair and push him onto his knees again. He looks up at her, confusion
swirling inside him.
“You’re not going anywhere Shawn. I didn’t give you permission
to leave did I?” The velvet soft power of her voice turns his insides to
liquid. His mouth parts on a silent plead.
“Tell me what you like, pet.”
“Don’t.“ He corrects himself, “Please don’t.”
What was he
pleading for? For her to stop her torture or for her to continue the oh-so-good
humiliation? His cheeks are burning, probably permanently stained red.
“I like- “He starts biting his tongue as she pulls on his hair
again, bolts of pleasure shooting through his body. His eyes close as the
shameful delight of pain coats his bones with a comforting warmth.
“You love pain,” she states flatly, with no room for
argument. His eyes fly open, the warmth turning to ice, freezing him in place,
choking him with fear. Revolting.
Never would she be able to overlook the repulsive nature of his kink.
“Hey, hey, Shawn. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s a kink, it’s not
the end of the world.” Genuine concern and confusion glaze her voice as she
brings her hand under his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Darling what’s
wrong?” Love, concern and pain are in her eyes; there is no hate, no disdain,
no disgust. A sigh of relief rattles out of him as her thumb strokes his cheek
in soothing circles.
“It’s mo- I like it- It’s more than just pain,“ he
whispers. A fresh wave of red rushes to his cheeks at her questioning gaze.
“Maybe like- I think- uhm… humiliation,” he mumbles
hurriedly, punching the words out, leaving them hanging in the room.
“Be more specific, pet. I need to know exactly what you like so
that I know what to do,“ she answers. She’s kind and gentle and genuine;
he’s surprised and shocked that she wants to know more.
“Being told how needy I look… Biting, may- maybe scratching…”
His voice wavers as he lets the heavy words settle.
“What about me being completely in control?” she asks, in a
steady, soothing voice. He hesitates.
“Shawn.” He looks at her. Open, honest eyes beg him for the
“I might… like it… And- and powerplay.” His brown eyes search
her beautiful face for a trace of loathing. How could she simply be alright
“What else, baby?” Comforting fingers carding through his hair,
his heart rate finally slows just a bit. Thankfully she hasn’t run yet.
“Kneeling in front of you like this… completely naked while you
are still wearing your underwear.” He lets out, trying to breathe properly. His
courage sinks again as he realises he just confessed to all the nasty things he
had only ever thought.
“Shawn. I love you. That won’t change because of some kink you
have. I love you the way you are, pain kink and all. Do you trust me?” Her
bright bright eyes study him carefully.
“I do.” He leans into her hand as it cups his cheek. The feel of
his burning skin against her soft fingers calms the riot in his head.
“Good.” She takes a deep breath. “Now. I need to punish you for hiding
this from me,” she teases, a small smile playing around her lips. He gulps
as his cock hardens again. Her eyes drop to his crotch, chuckling at his quick
reaction. She stands up, moving behind him. He tries to look at her but her
hand tightening in his hair prevents it. Shawn feels her foot against his ass.
“Crawl towards the bed. Hands on the mattress.” Her controlled
voice raises goosebumps on his skin. He is pressed against the bed. Her hand
gently turns his head to the side and presses it forward into the mattress. Her
fingers leave his hair, trailing down the nape of his neck, across his back. He
fists the blanket, muscles bunching, trying to be as still as possible. Her
fingernails rake down his back and a surprised moan leaves his lips, his hips
“Now. That is a beautiful sound, pet,“ she whispers
appreciatively against his ear. She presses a little kiss above his ear and a
breath wheezes out of him.
“Please.” He manages to choke the word out as her nails dig
painfully, tantalizingly, into his
back. A whine tumbles from his mouth. Shawn feels her lips curving into a smile
against the shell of his ear. Precome dribbles from his cock, his eyes
squeezing shut as she murmurs words of praise against his skin.
“Open your eyes Shawn.” His eyes half lidded when he manages to
open them. Her right hand finds its way into his hair, twisting itself into the
curls and pulling his face up a little. Her left hand moves to his throat,
holding it in a comfortably tight grip. She tilts his head up, angling his face
towards her. His lips are parted, swollen from biting them as he looks at her.
Her left thumb presses into the plush flesh, his tongue hesitatingly licking
“My pretty boy,” she says, praise in her voice. Shawn
preens under her words. He sighs, digging his fingers deeper into the blanket.
“Come on. Up you go on the bed.” Her low command resonates
through his body. He scrabbles to his feet, lying down on the mattress, kicking
the blanket into the corner. He looks at her expectantly. She bites her lip,
trying to hide an amused smile.
“Grip the headboard for me,“ she orders as she pulls off
her panties, the motion torturously slow. “Now, this is your punishment.” She
unhooks her bra as she speaks. "You will not remove your hands from that
headboard. You will not touch me; I won’t restrain you.” Her breasts are
finally bare and he gulps, trying desperately to focus on her words. “If you
disobey, I will stop and I will get myself off on your thigh. And you have to
watch and stay hard and untouched. Do you understand pet?”
His hands fly to the headboard as he whimpers yes. She straddles him, her small
fingers wrapping around his cock. Her nails not so accidentally scratch lightly
down the length of it. His hands grip the bed, frantically trying to obey her
rules. A moan punches out of him as she leans forward, her left hand burying
itself into his shoulder muscles. Her nipples graze his heaving chest as she
kisses his neck. Teeth and tongue, pain and pleasure, mixing into one
breath-stealing combination. Whimpers and pleads tumble from his lips at his
hips buck into her fist. Her lips move down his throat, a patchwork of bruises
and bites blossoming on his skin. His back arches as she sucks a dark bruise
next to his Adam’s apple. She moves down the column of his neck, sucking one
more hickey at the base of throat.
“Mhm. All mine now,” she mumbles to herself, admiring her
work, hickeys and bites covering his neck. Marking him as hers. A moan of her
name spills from his mouth. His arms pulling at the headboard making it creak
under his strength. She shuffles up his body, her thighs on either side of his
face. His arms pressing into her soft skin, his fingers closing around the bars
of the headboard convulsively.
“Do you think you deserve it? Do you deserve to eat my pussy
Shawn?” She taunts him, his lips so so close to her.
“Yes, please- I’m good. I- please let me. Please let me make you
come.” He pleads her. His cheeks turn red at the desperation in his voice.
“Alright pet. You’ve been good,“ she acknowledges as she
lowers herself onto his mouth. His lips wrap around her clit, causing a shudder
to go through her body. He sucks on the bud, his teeth occasionally grazing
her, a sharp intake of breath her only response. He lets go of her clit,
licking her pussy, his tongue entering her. Sweet delicious wetness coats his
tongue. Her hand reaches into his hair, pulling on it as she rocks against his
face. Small moans of praise and his name are his reward. Thrusting into her, he
gets the most beautiful response from her. She throws her head back, tightening
her grip on his hair, moaning his name. He feels her walls tightening around
his tongue, his nose bumping against her pubic bone as she grinds on his face.
“Shawn. I’m-“ She moans as her orgasm takes her over. The hand
in his hair tenses further, her nails scratching against his scalp, sparks of
pain coursing down his spine. A strangled moan escapes him. She writhes on top
of him, the vibrations of his moan traveling up her spine.
She remains on his face for a minute longer, catching her
“You did great baby.” Her praise washes over him as she slowly
moves down his body stopping when her wet pussy is resting against his abs. A
tortured sigh leaves him at the feeling. She leans over him, reaching for the
bedside table. Her delicious scent wafts over him, riling him up further. The
tell-tale crinkling sound of the condom wrapper makes him turn his face into
his arm. Too much. He needs to think.
His eyes shoot open as he feels the latex glide down his shaft. God have mercy on him.
“You are doing wonderfully Shawn,” she tells him as she
slowly lifts herself up. His cock nudges against her pussy. She is going kill him. She slowly sinks
down onto him and his eyes roll back into his head. Her breath hitches almost
inaudibly as he finally bottoms out. Her nails scrape his abdomen, leaving red
scratches in their wake, his muscles tightening under her fingertips. She
starts moving in slow figure eights, grinding against his crotch. His cock in a
vice-like velvety grip. The wood creaks as he tightens his hold on the
headboard further. He throws his head back, burying it into the pillow. Her
hands digging into his flesh, bruising it delightfully, make moans fall freely
from his lips. He is begging her for mercy, for more, for more pain. She
rakes her nails down his torso, over his nipple, a loud whine punching out of
him. He turns his face away from her, hiding in his arm.
“No Shawn. None of that.” She grabs his chin, forcing him to
look at her. She bends forward, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth.
Slowly pulling on it, gently biting down on it, he can only whimper at the
excruciating pleasure of the pain. She rolls her hips forward, her walls
tightening around him. Her pubic bone grinds against his skin. Her fluttering
walls tense around him as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. He is so, so
“Please.” He begs her, struggling to get the word past his lips.
“Please what, pet?” she asks, rocking against him.
“Hurt me more,“ he pleads in a sigh, a fresh wave of heat
making his cheeks flush. How could he ask
She runs her nails across his nipple, pinching it between her
nails. His hips buck into her as her pussy clenches around him. Her right hand
travels up his torso as her left one remains firmly on his chest. She reaches
the base of his throat, his eyes closing in anticipation. Small fingers wrap
around his neck for the second time that night. Yes. He thrusts up into her as the pressure against his throat
“Let me- please. Let me come,” he begs, a blush spreading
down his chest.
“Come for me, pet,“ she murmurs under her breath. He tilts
his head back, his mouth dropping open as his orgasm washes over him. A
shattered moan punches out of him as he rides out his high. She rolls off of
him, letting them catch their breath. She discards of the used condom in the
bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth. She carefully cleans his face and his
“You?” He croaks out,
letting go of the headboard.
“Already did it in the bathroom darling.” She smiles at him
softly. A blush blossoms on his cheeks. How
can he ask her to hurt him? God. He’s despicable.
“Shawn. Stop right now.” She sits on his chest again, forcing
him to look at her. Her eyebrows furrow in anger and pain. He is revolting.
“Stop it, please. I love you the way you are Shawn! I couldn’t
care less if you had a pain kink! I would still be with you if you had a foot
fetish and could only fall asleep with my foot in your hands! I. Love.
You,” she tells him, desperately looking into his eyes, begging him to see
that she is telling the truth.
“Believe me. Please. I love you the way you are, kinks and all.
And what does it say about me? Enjoying biting you and pulling your hair and
hurting you. Doesn’t that make me a monster?” She speaks calmly, apparently
unperturbed by this, but his eyes widen at her accusations.
“No! Never! Just because you like something doesn’t make you a…”
Realisation dawns on him. Her beaming cheeky grin tells him she expected his
answer. He rolls his eyes at her, pulling her down into a slow, lazy kiss. Her
squeaked laugh of delight as he flips them over make him smile.
Request// anon Can you do a mini story about Peter finding out he has an older half sister (reader), but because of her mutation, she looks younger. (Same father, different mother)
A/N: Based on X-Men Apocalypse universe where Peter has no knowledge of Wanda
“Hey listen Charles I swear I didn’t do anything this-”
“Peter, you’re not in trouble we just need to talk,” Charles Xavier interrupted the rushed Peter Maximoff. He had been called into the professor’s office because of you and it looked like he’d ran the whole way here, judging by his askew silver hair. And despite this being your first encounter with him, you could tell he was called into this office a lot, and not for many positive reasons. “This is about her,” Charles said, gesturing in your direction, Peter’s attention immediately snapped to you, just realizing you were there.
“Oh hey, sup,” he said, nodding to you. You smiled in response. This was too surreal. You were standing just feet away from your half brother, despite him having zero knowledge of who you were, and he was a mutant just like you.
“This Peter, is your sister,” Charles said, “half sister to be exact, and a mutant just like you.” It seemed like a million different expressions crossed Peter’s face as his brain worked in overtime trying to understand what exactly was happening.
“But my Mom…I never…If she’s….how is that…what?”
“Same asshole dad different mom,” you finally spoke. Peter smirked at your comment, with a small laugh.
“I’ll let you two have some time to talk,” Charles said, before leaving the office.
“So-” you both started at the same time.
“I’m (Y/N),” you finally said.
“Peter,” he replied, still staring at you in what looked like disbelief, “but I guess you already knew that.”
“Yeah,” you laughed nervously.
“How’d you find me anyways?”
“Lots and lots of digging,” you huffed. Peter nodded, accepting this.
“Wow, well…” He trailed off, yet again at a loss for words. “So I have a younger sister,” he muttered to himself.
“Older actually,” you interjected.
“Older?” Peter raised an eyebrow at this notion.
“Yeah I know, I think it’s in relation to my mutation, the fact I could pass for a thirteen year old I mean.”
“Oh shit, are you like that Benjamin button dude, that’s sick as hell,” Peter grinned.
“No, no,” you laughed, “first because Benjamin button is fiction, and second because I’m not aging backwards I just look really young.”
“A half sister,” Peter said again, “who’s also a mutant.” You sat in silence for a moment. “Shit,” Peter said.
“I know,” you shook your head, it really was crazy, meeting someone related to you so late in your life.
“Shit,” he repeated.
“That’s the understatement of the century,” he ran his fingers through his silver hair.
Can we please talk about how gorgeous Cherry Valance’s hair and makeup was in the movie! Her hair was so shiny and luxurious with so much volume and perfect curls! Not to mention her statement shade of red hair! And her makeup was so soft and flattering! Cherry Valance is totally my beauty inspiration.
Whew, buckle-up buttercup, we were just talking about this last night on discord.
I CAN NOT get enough of pre-talon Amelie and Angela having this angsty affair where Angela is 99% sure Amelie is just using her but is too in love to care. But Amelie really does love her, she just also loves her precious cinnamon roll husbando and doesn’t want to hurt him. It’s a hot angsty mess and I live for it.
Speaking of hot messes. Dr. Angela “jesus christ why is there coffee all over you have you even slept at all why is there pencils stuck in your hair” Zeigler being a workaholic tornado in general and Amelie just being this is my life now about it is also a favorite of mine.
Not to mention Mercy just being destroyed by guilt over not only the affair but Gerard dieing.
Finally @whitleysims and her kids, Jai’ya and little Neiman came to Los Angeles to see us! I picked them up at the airport and I could tell they were a little jet lagged from the flight, so we went into my movie room and put on Finding Dory in our PJ’s. Asher was so excited to see Neiman she kept hugging him the whole time. (Can we talk about how cute his pacifier is??)
Whitley is here till Tuesday so I’ll have more stories of our fun times! Harlow and Jai’ya were so excited to see each other they flew into Harlow’s room and said “Finding Dory is for babies”. Ahh kids lol.
There are so many SIMILARITIES. BD and her pearls are smooth, hidden, quiet. YD and her pearl are loud, pointy, bold.
On each set, their gems are placed in the exact same spots. YD and her pearl both have ridiculous shoulder pads and helmet-like hair. BD and her pearl both have billowy clothing and smooth hair.
So how could Our Pearl belong to Pink Diamond??
Her gem is placed on her forehead, not her navel. And her gem color is a creamy white, not a pretty pink!
If anything, she belonged to white diamond. She just won’t talk about it or repressed the memories of it so she can be her own gem.
We learned that gems can change literally everything about their appearance short of gem placement. So just because she has a new color scheme and stuff doesn’t mean she never belonged to a diamond. Garnet started out looking like cotton candy and now she has a deep crimson suit and dark brown hair. So that means gems could change their colors if they really truly wanted to. And if you look back, Our Pearl started out with a pastel blue outfit and slowly gained more color the more recent the flashbacks became. She CHANGED herself COMPLETELY. Even her HAIR is different.
My theory stands: I believe that Our Pearl belonged to the mysterious and elusive White Diamond.
I’m convinced Rick wasn’t only talking about the cat. This applies to the family she lost, the boyfriend she lost, the son she lost, and daresay alludes to a new baby? I call it, Rick is proposing in 7x12. Can’t nobody tell me nothing!
(And also, can we talk about how Michonne grabbed that woman’s hair and slammed her into the ground? And how she was about to take out all the garbage people when that woman pushed Rick off the garbage heap? They do NOT wanna f with Michonne)
An Umbran Witch whose more lore accurate than literally any witch I have ever seen in gaming?
A strong woman protagonist?
A PROTAGONIST WHO USES GUNS, SWORDS, WHIPS (ETC.) WHO WEARS GLASSES?
Demons! Demons everywhere and blood pacts which are actually rlly accurate to the “witch hunts”
EVEN THE GAME OVER SCREEN IS TRUE TO THE LORE
latex suit made out of her fucking hair referencing how witches used to be shaved to find “demon marks” or “demon marks” (aka beauty marks wHICH BAYONETTA HAS AND HER SMALLER SELF DOESN’T MEANING SHE DID GET A DEMON PACT AND BECOME A LEGIT WITCH)
rlly good music, rlly good plot
GOOD!! FUNNY!! WRITING!!
Luka! Enzo! Joan! Rodin! Cereza! Bayonetta!!
she got combos, has so many weapons and is an outcast who was abandoned by her own clan
some really cool puzzles
POWERS!! FROM THE MOON!!
twist on religious beliefs
Gothic?? European, English, France etc. nice
I recommend everyone tries it out or at least watch some gameplay, it’s really a bundle of joy.
can we talk about how good paige looked in that last scene that top was such a gorgeous color on her and the hair hanging down framing her face and the sideways braid thrown over her shoulder like hoooo damn and walter gets to be the guy to look at her
“Em.” It was Julian. She was on the spit of sand between the Malibu Lagoon and the Pacific Ocean; Julian had parked up at the side of the PCH and was coming down the path from the highway now, watching Emma, his shoes still on. Normally, he would have waded into the water with her. “We have to get to Malcolm’s.”
She sighed and slid her gritty feet back into her sandals. “Jules.” She padded up the beach to him, laid her hand on his arm. She thought she felt a shiver go through him. “Are you going to be all right?”
He shook his head. The sunlight brought out the paler streaks of gold in his brown hair, years of salt water bleaching the strands. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I don’t need to be to go see Malcolm.”
“We need to talk about this,” Emma said. “You can’t keep it bottled up.”
“I can,” he said. “I’m good at bottling. I’m a bottle expert.”
“Fine,” Emma said. “Then I’ll be Ty and deduce you.”
He raised his eyebrows, watching her as she paced in front of him.
“You’re happy Mark’s back,” she said. “But he didn’t seem like Mark in the Sanctuary, and he didn’t recognize you. He called you your father’s name. He flinched away from you in the bedroom. You’re wondering if he’s still Mark.”
Julian’s hands tightened at his sides, knuckles whitening. “Partly. Is that crazy? Mark used to joke and laugh all the time, and I don’t know, it was only a minute but this Mark doesn’t seem like he ever even smiles …”
“Remember how we were when we came back from Idris?” she said. “After the Dark War? The nightmares, the way Tavvy cried all the time, Ty sleeping under Livvy’s bed? We were like — beaten dogs. When something terrible happens to you, you can’t expect to come right back from it. Even if you get to come home.”
He reached out a hand for her, seemed to check himself, and lowered it to tug on her braid. The way he tugged on Drusilla’s. Emma bit back a frown.
“They can’t know,” he said. “The kids. They can’t know about the deal. The conditions the Fair Folk gave us. That —“
“That they want to take Mark back?”
“Right.” He swallowed, with an effort.
“But Jules — what if Mark decides to go back with them? What if he decides not to stay?”
“He won’t,” Julian said. “I don’t care how much he’s changed, if he’s changed, he won’t do that. We just have to show him we love him and want him here. That’s all.”
His voice had lost its hesitancy and was firm, determined. She moved closer to him. He smelled like cloves. So that’s what he’d been doing in the car. Smoking. It was his one bad habit: he smoked the same clove cigarettes his father had. She’d been hoping he’d quit while he’d been gone.
“You’ve been smoking? Seriously?” she said.
He sighed. “I’m stressed out, Emma.”
“Well, you should find other things to do when you’re stressed. What do most teenaged boys do?”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, but you can’t do that all day.”
He raised his eyebrows higher.
“We’re not talking about this any more,” Emma said, and marched up the beach. She could hear Julian following her, his boots crunching on the sand.
“Thanks Joey it feels good to get that off my chest” Ross breathed relaxed, his hand resting on his chest. “Hey no worries man” he nodded. Pausing for a moment he looked around before back to Ross. “I gotta tell you something” he whispered. “Of course Joe” Ross said, ready to listen. “It’s about Y/N… I think, I think I like her” he revealed, a look of curiosity on his face wondering what Ross would say. Before Ross really had a chance to say anything you opened the door to Joey’s apartment and saw the two standing there. “Hey, what are we talking about?” you smiled. Joey’s eyes widened as he turned to face you. “Ross likes Rachel again” he blurted, pointing over his shoulder at him. “Joey!” Ross exclaimed, throwing his hands in the hair. You laughed lightly at Ross before shaking your head at him. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret” you assured him. “Oh crap I forgot my pursue in Monica’s, be right back” you excused yourself before leaving the apartment again. “That was a close one” Joey chuckled nervously turning back to face Ross. “You didn’t even keep my secret for five minutes” Ross said, brows furrowed. “Oh yeah sorry about that I panicked” Joey apologised.
“So, there’s a girl?” Caesar asked Finnick with an eyebrow raised. A large grin pulled itself onto Finnick’s face. “There is,” he answered. Many of the women in the audience cheered with joy, some hoped dearly it was them the boy with champagne blonde hair was talking about.
“Mind telling us more?” Caesar challenged playfully. “I’m not so sure she wants her name broadcasted on television for millions to see, but I can however tell you about her,” Finnick spoke.
“Go on,” Caesar urged him. “She’s beautiful, she has these beautiful eyes that sparkle like diamonds in the sun. She’s so incredibly intelligent and smart, and so easy to talk to. She’s just really perfect,” Finnick said.
“Well I hope that we can hear more of her sometime,” Caesar nodded, hopeful that Finnick bring his significant other into the spotlight. Finnick shrugged with a smile, “Maybe.”