il-mio-tesoro

[il-mio-tesoro]

cowgirl 🤠

Are y‘all dressing up tonight? If so, as what?

[il-mio-tesoro]

:0 I love your theme!

I love yours more <3

[il-mio-tesoro]

the picrew is scarily accurate

tag game babeyyy

i got tagged by @vixvaporub

rules: create a picrew and take this quiz on how fandom would see you if you were a fictional character!

i tag (with zero pressure love y'all <3) @lacrymosadiesilla @subwayfires @anxiouswerewolf @spookyharringtons @spookyscoopstroop @the-lazy-cat-bakes-souffles @werewolfjonathanbyers and @werewolfharrington

[il-mio-tesoro]

i love seeing all my vampire themed mutuals reblog the same post. like the covens rlly socialising tonight eh boys

[il-mio-tesoro]

helping my little brother do homework over face time and saw this shit, forced him to ss, he still doesnt know why

victoria, james and lauren? ok ms twilight fan

genderbent laurent? 

[il-mio-tesoro]

I loved your headcanons about Renata. I don't mind which style of writing you choose whether it be headcanons, imagine, whatever. Could you do something with her and a mate/friend that is extremely invested in modern psychology pls?

I am so very sorry for taking so long to respond dove :( i hope you like it <33

I used f!reader, but i absolutely don't mind changing it if anyone wants a m! or gn!reader

CW//mentions of murder

Renata's mate grew up in Austria, born in 1875, around the time Sigmund Freud began appearing more in the newspaper. 

She flipped through the newspapers, reading his latest theory. She found it truly interesting, the ability to not only understand her own mind more- but others. It was almost unchartered territory, but due to the current social inequalities and expectations, a woman of her own class, the bourgeois, certainly wouldn't be able to go and study it, and instead would have to marry and bear children.

However, this wouldn't stop her lust for a grasp of the subject.

Even after she had married (a marriage of convenience,) in 1896 when she was 21, she kept secret notebooks of her  observations and theories.

While amateur and underdeveloped, they brought her joy, and she considered it to be her hobby.

One day though, in 1901, when she was 26, she was passing through the Austrian city of Graz, on her way home from a dinner party her husband couldn't attend due to an illness, she witnessed a small boy, perhaps 13 or 14, drag a man to the floor with thick black smoke, while men and women surrounded him, all with glistening, red eyes, staring down at this man.

A gloved hand raised to cover her mouth with a gloved hand, and gasped.

Immediately, they all snapped their heads towards her, and after a short exchange in looks, a tall, brawny man approached the woman alongside a blonde girl, looking to be the same age as the boy she first saw.

After a moment of initial shock, her hand dropped from her mouth, "B-blutsauger?" (bloodsucker/vampire.)

There'd been rumours- made up stories so she thought. A sudden rise in deaths in the area, most of which had bite-shaped marks decorating the victims neck, and the newspapers ate it up. Y/n, of course dismissed such a thing, but now, she wasn't as sure.

"Do we change her or kill her?" The blonde girl asked after a short while, the man stilled, and looked at her.

"Do you reckon Aro would mind if we changed her?" He hummed in response, all while the woman trembled before them.

The girl tilted her head after a moment, "after we've done with him," she said, gesturing to the man suffering in coal-coloured smog, "we'll have dealt with our problem in Graz, we can go straight to Volterra with her."

The man shrugged, "shall I?" He asked.

She nodded curtly, "after all, if she's useless, we can kill her, no?"

.  .  .

Y/n woke up in a cold room, Fortezza de Volterra.

She jolted up, and looked around. Suddenly, everything was clear, no longer was the slight blur in her vision.

Memories flooded back to her, as a man with raven hair walked in,  a short woman trailing closely behind him.

Y/n stood stationary. 

"I'm Aro, you?" He asked immediately, ghosting towards her.

A deep breath revealed inordinate thirst, however she daren't show weakness, "Y/n. Am I a blutsauger now?" she inquired nervously.

The man slowly nodded, "I understand it must be difficult for you, but it is for the better humans do not know of us. Be grateful you are still present."

He held his hand out, and after a moment I slid my hand into his, gasping as an image of the murder of the girl behind him, shortly followed by his own. I snatched my hand away, panicked, slowly backing away, and for the first time making eye contact with the woman behind him.

"What- what was that?"

Y/n's gift was the ability to see people's weaknesses with a single touch.

She was made aware of mates, and the connection with Renata.

She definitely struggled with the concept of homosexuality at first, due to her upbringing and the era, however after seeing examples of it around the castle with Afton and Chelsea, it slowly grew on her and the two women began courting one another.

Renata would teach you everything she knew about psychology, and as time progressed, the two of you attended many online courses, (it was difficult to attend any in person due to your commitments to the Volturi.

I think you'd discuss and debate theories for hours on end, and the two of you sat in cafes, in front of coffees you'd never drink, watching people, and their behaviour.

She'd smile softly every time you told her a fact, even if she was already aware of it, and the two of you bonded well over it.

Curling up with her on a night on her battered leather armchair, reading a book on forensic, modern, abstract, you name it, psychology, was a common occurrence.

[il-mio-tesoro]

are request open?:)

yes :) might be a tad slow to respond though <33

[il-mio-tesoro]

i fixed my writer’s block woooooo

expect that soon but for now i’ll drink my wine :) 

AND MY E KEY ISNT BROKEN ANYMORE WOOO

requests+masterlist

[il-mio-tesoro]

i’ve hit a writer’s block smh but i’ll try and do something idk just need to find inspiration 

[il-mio-tesoro]

Afton Volturi HCs

Afton’s life! Yes I know Afton is canonically a man. No I don’t care. Chelton/Aflea is my favourite ship now. -writer Chelsea headcanons are also related to this one, but fret not, they are far from the same.

CW//death by poison, murder, domestic ab/se, blood (pls lmk if you see anything else you think should have a warning <3)

wyf- before it evolved to mean wife, in old english, it was the equivalent to miss/mrs (marriage status did not effect it)

Requests and masterlist

Afton was born around the same time as Chelsea- 900-1000AD.

She was born in the same village too, though she happened to be a decade or so older. 

Her father owned a lot of land for the time, and therefore a decent amount of money.

For her 12th birthday, Afton was gifted with a lyre, something that she grew very fond of. Especially in Anglo Saxon Britain, where music was very much revered. 

She played the sounds of her heart with skill and rhythm. 

Many people in her village hardly knew she existed, despite her father's reputation. Her shyness was apparent, but she didn't realise how few people knew of her existence, despite the village's closeness.

Her modor, would wrap an arm around her, and tell her that the greatest beauties go unnoticed, like the gentle, orange glow of a sunrise, dancing over the sleeping bodies of humans, infinitely small in comparison.

Afton's mother was a role model to her. She looked up to her kindness and her beauty, as well as her strength of character.

One day, when she was young, she saw her father strike her mother.

A hand met a warm, supple cheek, forcing gravity to pull her to the floor. The woman daren't respond, though, as the evil man would strike her yet again.

Afton ran, and she hid. Although she knew her father wouldn't strike her, she wanted to hide from her problems.

She had a secret hiding place, not too deep in the woods. It was part of an old badger sett, and the top of one of the openings had collapsed, leaving just enough room for her to wriggle her body into safely.

Her mother, Ela, would take her foraging in the autumn for mushrooms, and would tell her all about the berries and mushrooms she really ought to look out for, so she wouldn't make the fatal mistake of eating them. 

One day though, when she was 16, she ran to the badger setts, mid autumn, and growing on the side of one of the mounds was a cluster of death caps. 

A deadly mushroom. Flashes of  the woody nightshade hedges she ran past on the way to her hiding place filled her mind, and sanguinary thoughts tainted her innocent mind. 

She took off her cloak, knowing these were deadly, and Afton wouldn't risk harming anyone but the man she intended.

Ela watched as her daughter piled mortal mushrooms into the a bowl of stew- the pale, carved bowl her father always ate out of. 

She also watched as she crushed little, red berries- woody nightshade, and poured the liquid residue into her fathers beer, throwing the bowl she crushed it in into the fire. 

Afton's eyes drifted towards her mother, and they both nodded.

"Go to the brook and wash you hands, I'll serve dinner." Ela disclosed inconspicuously. 

And she did exactly that.

Her father was going in and out of the outhouse by nightfall, and by morning, he was in a pool of vomit, dead.

The two women wrapped their arms around each other, and walked to the village doctor, or as they called it, the lǣċe. They told him of his random ailment, tears streaming down their faces, and he immediately went to their abode with another strong man, and carried him to a burial site in the woods.

Luckily, Anglo Saxon women were able to own land, and even inherit it, and that fell onto Ela, although she and Afton informally co-owned it, living together in peace.

Until Ghislain came along, 2 decades later. She didn't intend on ever marrying, and doing so at the ripe age of 36, in Anglos Saxon village was almost unheard of. However, he was a charming, and handsome fisherman from a neighbouring village.

He and Afton courted for a while, before they wedded eachother.

It went swimmingly at first, however he soon became violent.

And Afton decided she would no longer hide, she would force him to meet the same fate as her father.

It was the night before he was to go on a fishing trip, he and his crew would meet by the beach 20, or so, miles east on horseback.

"How can I help you? Is everything alright?" Afton asked, feigning innocence.

"Ghislain didn't show up, is he okay?"

She cocked an eyebrow, "he left before sun-up."

"Oh... I hope he returns soon, Afton."

Afton sniffled, and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve, "I'd like some privacy, boys. Thank you for telling me."

She went to visit his family in the neighbouring village, to mourn with them and give them bread.

However, on the way home, on the back of a steady mare, a woman stopped her, waving for help.

"Wyf, what are you doing here at night? All alone?" She said climbing off her horse, "don't you know of the wolves?"

The stranger, grabbed her shoulder, and buried her fangs into her shoulder, leaving her on a carpet of fallen leaves, with her horse galloping away in fear.

Pain paralyzed Afton, was this God's way of repenting her father and Ghislain?She awoke 2 nights later, an insatiable burning blistering her throat.

The village her husband's parents lived in was closest, so she ran, faster than she knew possible, and before she could stop herself, she sank her teeth into a man attempting to sneak into a chicken pen.

A bloody hand ghosted over her even bloodier mouth, paralysed with shock. Perhaps she truly was a monster? Perhaps her actions finally caught up.

Neither was true of course, her methods of repentance were not only just, but deserving.

She saw that eventually of course.

Her self-control was great after that, she was convinced to make the most out of a punishment from God.

And then she met Chelsea. Her undead heart yearned for her. It was shortly after her husband had died, and she thought, as the latest widow in the village, she'd keep up pretences and lend a hand.

But Chelsea was charming and charismatic, and the two grew close, and discovered love they didn't know possible.

Morwen, her daughter was charming like her mother, and held inordinate kindness. And soon, she began to see her as her own daughter as well.

She taught her to play the lyre, just as she did, and hoped that she too could pour her soul out on the strings.

Both Chelsea and Morwen were turned, come the latter's 16th birthday, with their permission. 

In her vampirism, their daughter grew the features of both mothers, one biological, one not, and the joy Afton felt was inconceivable. The trio prowled Europe, until Morwen found her mate,  Peccia, and the group of now four were involved with the Volturi.

Afton became quick friends with most people, however, it was her girlfriend who did all the socialising.

She hated the term girlfriend. Which is why she intended to have it changed to wife.

The ring was gold, shaped to look like leaves that hugged a pristine emerald.

 Aro would have married them, in the gardens, and Afton would have cried at how beautiful  Chelsea looked.

"I, Afton Fenn, take you, Chelsea Cenric, to be my lawfully wedded wife, and I promise to cherish you, to love you, and to hold you. You are mine as I am yours, and you own my heart."

They would have renewed their vows every century or so too.

Afton would finally start playing the lyre again, although she went on to learn many other instruments.

While graceful, Afton does not like dancing or extremely formal events, so at balls, she sits on the grand piano in the centre of the room, dressed ornately by her wife, playing talented ballads. 

She truly enjoys the small things in life, and therefore captures, and draws bugs. She believes that bringing beauty to the small things is important, and isn't done enough.

Poetry is constantly written for Chelsea.

Demetri and Afton often collaborate on poetry, and have published a handful of anthologies under pseudonyms.

Her powers, (invisibility,) are often put to use in covert missions, alongside Chelsea and Renata.

Chelsea and Afton just want to live their lives with their coven they love so dearly, and spend their time being mothers cherishing Morwen.

[il-mio-tesoro]

hello feds, i’m a writer. i am looking up poisonous plants as i am writing. i pinky promise im not doing anything bad :) thanks, -rowena

[il-mio-tesoro]

honestly my corin hcs are lacking sm 😭 need to give my dearest some love

i’ll probably redo it after i get my afton ones up :)

[il-mio-tesoro]

need to change this moodboard since i no longer see daniel cudmore as felix smh

Felix Volturi HCs!

So this is my take on the life of Felix Volturi. I wanted to give him the depth he deserves! I definitely want to continue this series for the rest of the Volturi so this is part one of god knows how many lmao!

1/?

CW//Parental death, bit gory in parts i think, blood, fighting as a sport, tiny bit of financial struggle (only mentioned in passing,)animal death and murder.

Enjoy my loves! First HCs, so sorry if they’re not the best.

Ask for requests!! Click here for rules, don’t be shy!

Keep reading

[il-mio-tesoro]

Hi! Can you write smut of Felix with a female mate please? You don’t have to make it long but maybe can you have something really sweet in the beginning, too?

Ofc <3 ty for being my first request it means a lot!

requests and masterlist

warnings// smut, f!reader, vanilla, cutesy sex

Your eyes skimmed through the final page of the book you were reading, and your lip quivered as your eyes began to water. The book let out a gentle, 'thud,' when you placed it down on the table in Felix's living room.

You wrapped a silk dressing-gown over the night dress you wore, and slipped on a pair of fluffy slippers Corin bought you for your birthday, and headed for the kitchens.

You sniffled all the way, and just as you were about to open the door to the room you sought after, a large hand rested on your shoulder.

"Oh, mio dolce columba (my sweet dove,) what has upset you?" He said, while bringing you in for a hug.

You sniffled, "you'll make fun of me."

He sighed fondly, "no I won't, cara (dear), let me help you."

Resting you head against his firm chest, you told him.

Felix cooed, "My gentle love. You make yourself some of that grass tea you so like-"

You cut in, "herbal tea."

"Yes, well make yourself some of it, and we can both share a nice bath, that sound good?"

You looked up at him a cried into his chest, "I love you so much, Felix."

He chuckled softly, and pried you off him, leaving you with a gentle forehead kiss, "don't be too long, mel (honey.)"

You quickly threw a lavender and chamomile teabag into your favourite mug, and poured an ungodly amount of honey into it, before quickly waddling back to Felix.

After you had set down your tea on the table, you quickly rid yourself of everything but the dressing gown, ready to bathe.

The large bathtub was scattered with the rose petals of the roses Felix bought you, soft pink ones, as well as a light covering of bubbles that wafted vanilla around the room.

You hooked your dressing-gown on the back of the door, before sinking into the bath with a relaxed sigh, sipping your tea from the stool Felix had put out for it.

Felix entered quietly, despite his stature, so you wiggled forward for him to slide in behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, and kissed the crown of your head, "I hope this is alright."

You let your eyes shut, "this is perfect, thank you."

Moments passed, and you flipped over slowly so you would be looking up at him, chests touching.

You pulled yourself up using his shoulders, and kissed him.

Felix smiled at you, and pulled you in for a kiss which was quickly deepened. He rested his hands on your waist, rubbing circles on it with his thumbs.

As it got more heated, he trailed his hands to the swell of your ass, and he pulled away, "amore, are you sure you'd like to take it further? I know you wanted to wind down."

You grinned at him, "this is winding down, and yes, I would like to." 

Your lips reconnected, and Felix moved one hand to the small of your back to support you, while he trailed his other one down your front and in between your legs.

He trailed his fingers up and down your slit, and you whined, "please don't tease me, Felix."

A smirk decorated his chiselled face, as he met your clit with his large fingers, and began to draw gentle circles on it. Your face rested on his chest, while you breathed heavily and grinded your hips into his hands.

He chuckled, and he slowly pushed a finger into your heat, and you moaned, muffling yourself with his chest.

"Darling don't do that, I want to hear all those pretty noises you seem to make."

You nodded slightly, just as he curled his finger, causing you to make sinful noises.

He grinned, "atta girl, there's those cute squeaks."

A gentle thumb met you clit, just as he pushed another digit in.

He lazily rubbed, while he curled his fingers rhythmically, and you tried to move you hand down to massage his member but he tutted, "just want you to lay there and be all pretty, can you do that f'me?"

You nodded compliantly, whimpering as he sped up.

Very quickly you were pushed over the edge, "come on, cum for me dolce ragazza, (sweet girl,) cum on my fingers."

With a quick nod and a loud moan, you allowed him to pull an orgasm from you.

He gave you a moment, seeing as you were foggy for a second after you finished.

"Felix," you whined, looking up with doe eyes, suggestively.

"What's that? You have to tell me so I can help, pretty girl."

You pushed your face onto his chest, "wan' you to fuck me, Fe'."

He chuckled, "who am I to deny a request like that?"

He slowly lowered you onto his cock, allowing you to adjust, before wrapping his arms around you to move you up and down his shaft.

It was lazy, and soft, and so different to how it usually was, but you enjoyed it so, so much.

When he was about to release, his fingers met your clit once again, and rubbed speedily.

"Fe', Felix I'm so close." You told him.

He massaged it even faster, his own thrusts getting sloppy, "come for me, dolcezza, (sweetness.)" He growled.

You mewled, coming around his member at the same time he did, lips meeting in a passionate kiss, before allowing your foreheads to rest against each other.

After a few moments, he pulled out of you, and took a wash cloth and began gently cleaning your heat, and your skin. "You did so well, mel."

After this, he'd dry you with the fluffiest towel, and take great care in rubbing your favourite body oil into your skin, before throwing you in one of his large shirts.

Felix tucked you in, before speeding to the kitchens to make you another mug of tea, just so you'd be as cosy as possible when the two of you were cuddling.

The splashes on the floor could wait.

[il-mio-tesoro]

omg guys i forgot to add the moodboard, this is the edited version w the moodboard <3

Demetri Volturi HCs <3

CW//mention of manipulation, mention of a mother dying, blood, mention of attack. (lmk if you spot any others <3)

requests and headcanons

GN y/n 

Felix HCs Heidi HCs Renata HCs Corin HCs

Headcanon under the cut <33

Keep reading

[il-mio-tesoro]

Chelsea Volturi Headcanons

Chelsea’s life :) will definitely write Afton HCs next, I think I spruced her up real nice and I love my faceclaim for her. Also might write headcanons for Morwen, and Peccia because they too, have great faceclaims and I can’t wait to explore them as characters.

requests and masterlist

CW// hints at poisoning, husband dying, food poisoning, alcohol is mentioned, domestic abuse is mentioned however I do not go in depth, and do not mention anything physical, infidelity, murder

Chelsea is a name of Old English origin, so I headcanon her from England, around 900-1000 CE.

She had a glut of siblings, and she cherished them greatly. They'd go to her when they had issues with their partners, and there wasn't an occasion where she could help them.

Her parents, Dunstan and Claiborne, weren't of nobility, however they were merchants, and at the time they were well regarded and made plenty of money.

In their village, people would come to Chelsea with materials for rag dolls, for their children to play with. She'd use the thread from old clothes for hair, and find nice stones by the river for eyes.

As she grew up, she became a cloth-weaver, and married a man- Wystan.

It was a marriage of convenience, however they somewhat loved eachother.

They never argued, however there was little passion.

A child came of it though, Morwen, a gorgeous little girl with her mother's curly, blonde locks, and her father's black eyes.

However, one night after Wystan had finished working for the day, he visited a friend of his, and drank the beer they had brewed themselves, as opposed to trading with the local brewer, who knew the craft far better.

The barrel they brewed it in was not only toxic, alder wood, it was rotting, contaminating the beer.

Wystan unfortunately passed a few weeks later after rapid deterioration of his health.

While Chelsea didn't love him, he was the father of her child, and she would mourn him.

It was about this time Afton, showed herself to her.

She too was a widow, and her husband died under mysterious circumstances.

Chelsea knew she should have seen Afton around the village, however she had not seen her since her husband's burial, where she kept her head down under a cloak. It was as if she could disappear, Chelsea thought.

Afton smiled, and brought her bread, as well as materials for a doll.

"I promise I tried... I'm just absolutely dreadful at doll-making, so I thought I'd leave it to you for little Morwen."

She had blood red eyes, and her teeth were glistening under her cloak.

"You," Chelsea began, clearing her throat, "you have red eyes?"

Afton shook her head, "don't worry, I'll explain it soon, I thought you might need a hand since, well, I'm sure you know."

And help she did.

Afton inherited her father's riches after he tragically died after eating something she made, which she spent in a heartbeat on Morwen and Chelsea.

The blonde and brunette's lips left one another's, and they rested their foreheads on eachother's.

"Is this wrong?" Chelsea asked timidly, and Afton slid her hand into her own

"Love doesn't lie, sweeting. How can an act as pure and divine as this be sinful?"

Morwen adored Afton, and since she was young when her father died, she began to subconsciously look up to her as a parental figure, alongside her mother.

Afton confessed her vampirism to Chelsea after a couple of years, and she took it well. She admired her vampirism, and admired the fact she only fed off thieves more so.

"When Morwen is sixteen, may I change the two of you? I couldn't bear the day you both died."

Chelsea thought for a moment, "we'll ask Morwen on her birthday." She said hesitantly.

And of course, Morwen reached her 16th birthday.

And she said yes, almost as fast as her mother did.

The three of them would stick together and learn all the world had to offer, and she'd rather experience that than the awful, boring cycle that was Anglo-Saxon Britain, despite it's many beauties.

Morwen's rounded features sharpened after her change and her hair darkened a fraction, not because of the beauty that came hand in hand with vampirism, but due to the resemblance to her other mother, Afton.

Chelsea would cry with Afton, they had a daughter together, and that made them happy beyond belief.

The three travelled like they said they would, and in 1200-ish, they found themselves in Marseille, France, talking to a vampiric couple.

The man, Arleno was rude to her, and cruel. He didn't care for her, and shattered her heart time and time again with harsh words and infidelity.

This angered the three women greatly, and one night, as they set up camp together, Chelsea spoke to Peccia, while her husband was hunting.

"You must leave him, Peccia, can't you see how great you'd be without him, he's destroying you!"

She shook her head, "he does love me, it's, it's just complicated, Chelsea."

Chelsea rested a hand on her shoulder, looking deep into her eyes, "leave him. You don't love him, and you never had, just as he is with you. Come with us. We'll protect you."

And leave him she did.

That was the night Chelsea discovered her powers.

However, Arleno was not a stupid man, he was sly. He knew what Chelsea had done, the only thing he was not aware of- it was how, and he went to the Volturi.

He knew that interfering with a mate-bond was against their laws, and he genuinely believed Peccia was his mate.

Marcus' powers however, do not work from a distance, so he could not prove him wrong.

And Aro wanted to go so he could get Arleno off their backs- it was evident they weren't mates, the way he treated her was enough.

They found them in northern France, as helped by Demetri.

And sure enough, they weren't mates.

They didn't need Marcus for that though, because when they arrived, Morwen and Peccia were in each other's arms.

They didn't intend on killing Arleno. Not until he pounced at the new couple.

Felix put Demetri's new training into use, and he effectively took down the vampire.

The group, of now four, were invited back to Fortezza Volterra, seeing as they were all gifted.

To be honest I don't personally think that Afton was recruited purely because she was Chelsea's mate.

"All of you, your gifts are extraordinary, I have never seen such a talented group, genuinely." Aro said, impressed.

Cauis cut in, "he means to invite you to our coven. We'd provide a home, and we can truly show you the world. It'd be a shame to put your gifts to waste."

Both Afton and Chelsea agreed quickly, however Morwen and Peccia were certainly more hesitant.

Aro took their hands in his, and nodded understandingly.

"I see. You can live in the village, in order to be close to your mother's, on the condition that we may call on you in emergencies? And trust me, we are not quick to call something an emergency."

The women shared a look, and smiled, "thankyou, so much."

To this day, I think that's the only time Aro has allowed such circumstances.

Chelsea's gifts aren't used much within the coven, despite canon, I believe that Aro, as with the rest of the coven, believe that free will is important, especially when joining the coven. The coven isn't just law-enforcement, it's a family.

I think her gifts would  be used in other covens, especially ones harmful to humans, as a tactic. She'd use it to sever all their ties to eachother, remove their safety in numbers, and would likely kill them.

Chelsea would still make dolls, like she did as a human.

This time though, they'd be porcelain, and Heidi would make the clothes.

Then, she, Morwen, Afton and Heidi would take them to children in unfortunate circumstances.

She wouldn't dare tarnish their innocence and sentimental value with a pricetag.

Her and Afton like to sit in herb-scented baths together, while Afton recites her poetry. 

[il-mio-tesoro]

it lowkey fits with the chelsea hcs im writing >:)

afton, in old english, is typically a girl’s name…

should i make wlw chelsea and afton? 

i am so tempted you dont understand. 

but it’s also a swedish, unisex name 😔 

fuck it chelsea is wlw so is afton idc