#/back so any inaccuracies is on her part LMAO

[k1ngl30n]

Hannibal is a perfect example of a traditional morality play.

Ok -- why's this? I am SO happy that you asked! (Please this has been in my head for far too long)

Here are the traditional elements of a morality play:

A Good character that leads the main cast/character into redemption

A selection of Bad characters that often represent the Seven Deadly Sins

Dramatic entrances and exits

A mistaken identity

An illogical ending

One main storyline with crises along the way.

Sound familiar? This is because every one of these elements are also present in Hit TV Show NBC's Hannibal! The fascinating bit is what the Good character's morality is centred on -- which, obviously, is killing and eating people. Below the cut are some further explanations if you can be bothered to read more lol

The Good character: Hannibal Lecter himself, leading Will into his idea of 'redemption' (seeing Will as his own personal god/angel links into this beautifully. I bet Bryan was patting himself on the back after he wrote all of this)

Selection of Bad characters that represent the SDSs: Jack for Pride; Margot for Lust (poor woman); Frederick for Envy; Chiyoh for Wrath; Pazzi for Greed; Mason for Gluttony; can't exactly think of another person for Sloth but there's probably one somewhere. 'Bad' in this instance means detrimental to the main storyline, which is Will's Becoming.

Dramatic entrances and exits: they're everywhere. People flounce out of everywhere all the time in the show -- my personal favourite is when Will enters the lab, says two lines, and turns his ass back around and leaves.

A mistaken identity: there's so many! Gideon as the Chesapeake Ripper, Will as the Chesapeake Ripper, and, of course, Hannibal as a good guy.

An illogical ending: come on, guys. They fall off of the edge of a giant cliff and probably started walking away to Bedelia's the day after. Mizumono is also an example of this; any person that just saw their adoptive daughter get slaughtered in front of their very eyes would most probably develop a whole sleuth of mental issues. Will? Nah, he's just the same as he's ever been; he's just like that with all them damn ghosts in his head

One major storyline: the goal of the show never changes, and that's to facilitate Will's Becoming. While he goes through a lot of shit in order to get to it, he still manages to Become in a way that Hannibal would find acceptable... possibly. SS3 cut Will off at a point where he would kill, but not will kill.

Anyways thanks for listening to my TED talk. I hope we meet again soon lol

[jgracie]

THE CHEMICAL, PHYSICAL KRYPTONITE! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ what spending prom with them would look like

masterlist | rules

in which you go to prom with the love of your life

pairings percy jackson & jason grace x reader

warnings none!

on the radio . . . shut up and dance (walk the moon)

an please dont ask what possessed me to write this i just had a vision i desperately needed to execute... also i despise these so sorry in advance LMAO lmk if u want a p2 w everyone else tho sorry its only 2 chars i could not write any more atm

i. PERCY JACKSON

Going to prom with the Percy Jackson is definitely every girl’s dream, which is why you thought you had absolutely no chance 

Why would he choose you, his best friend who he’s seen through all the awkward phases of elementary and middle school, when he had a plethora of cuter potential dates?

Wherever you went, people would stop you and ask if you knew anything about who Percy was going to ask, which you didn’t. Every question of theirs dampened your mood as they all reminded you Percy was going to have a date and it wasn’t going to be you

At least, that’s what you thought. Little did you know, you’re the only person Percy could ever have eyes for. You were there back when everyone was bullying him and calling him names, and from the moment you’d shown up to fend for him against the mean people in class, the boy was a goner

Your bravery and courage was something he’d admire for the rest of eternity, as well as your kind heart and your dazzling smile and your gorgeous eyes and, well, you get the gist

Over the years, Percy grew in popularity, but he never forgot about you. You were on his side when no one else was, and he’s had a massive crush on you for ages, so how could he?

One day, you’d gotten into the passenger seat of his car as you usually do after school. Ever since he found out you’d been walking to and from school every day, he insisted on picking you up, so the passenger seat became more ‘your seat’

Flipping down the sun visor to check how you looked in the little mirror as you usually do, you found a note taped to it, clearly written in Percy’s handwriting 

“Check the trunk for me? - P”

So, you got out to check the trunk and found a bouquet of flowers and a box of your favourite chocolates, as well as a lovely letter asking you out to prom. Turning around, you found yourself face-to-face with the man himself and quickly ran into his arms, a clear indication you would accompany him to prom

Being Percy’s date meant obviously showing up in sea themed outfits. You went back and forth on how you could best represent the ocean before settling on something reminiscent of The Little Mermaid, with you as the beautiful gorgeous stunning show stopping mermaid and Percy as the mediocre prince (his words, not mine)

Honestly, it was all so fun and the two of you were easily the best dressed as prom!!

You actually made quite a bit of your pieces yourselves and had movie marathons while doing so!! All of the movies were sea themed of course and Percy complained about all the inaccuracies in them but you love listening to him so it turned out fine :)

While Percy was in the bathroom during one of your visits to his house, Sally had given you the tiara she wore on her own prom day, insisting you wear it because she knew you were the one for Percy from the moment he uttered your name to her 

You were a little hesitant of course, since the tiara probably held a lot of sentimental value to her and you’d hate for something to happen to it, but she insisted and so you wore it on the day

Since Percy hadn’t been there for this interaction between you and his mother, he was shocked to see it sitting prettily in between your perfectly styled locks of hair, and he actually teared up a little because he knew how much that tiara meant to his mother 

The best part about prom with Percy is definitely the fact that he kept it casual. Not once did you feel intimidated or nervous about your every move, it just felt like any other afternoon spent in his bedroom 

When you’d confessed that you actually didn’t know how to dance, Percy said he was relieved because he didn’t either, and you spent the night making your own silly dances to all the songs instead

(Unbeknownst to you, he’d actually spent months learning how to ballroom dance from Sally and Paul as he desperately wanted to impress you, but it’s okay, seeing you light up while you made up the moves as you went along was definitely worth it)

ii. JASON GRACE

Jason had actually asked you out to prom the day before the event was supposed to happen

To you, this was pretty out of character for him, since he was the type to need plans made three months in advance. However, his late promposal was actually a result of his character

You see, he’d spent so long planning how he’d ask you out that he’d completely forgotten he actually had to do it at some point

Every day, he’d come up with a new way to ask you to prom, some really cute and some awfully outlandish, all of which Piper and Leo would tell him you’d love, but none of them felt right

Which, naturally, had him running right back to the drawing board. This needed to be perfect, since it was you he was asking after all

Meanwhile, you were close to settling for one of the many guys who’d been asking to take you to prom. Every day, you hoped you’d go to school to find Jason waiting to ask if you’d go to prom with him, and every day you’d go home disappointed 

Your friends had told you about how many of their boyfriends’ guy friends were really interested in you, but you just couldn’t go to prom with some random guy you didn’t care about

Luckily, you and Piper McClean were acquaintances. You didn’t really hang out much, but the two of you were the only girls in a class you took and so you obviously bonded during that

The day before prom, Piper had asked you if you were excited. You had huffed and ranted about how the guy of your dreams, Jason Grace, didn’t ask you out so you were probably going to go with some guy your friend recommended

Piper would’ve left class right then and there and ran to tell Jason if her grade didn’t depend on it. The class was first period though so it gave Jason the rest of the day to ask you out after Piper had told him her newfound information

So, Jason asked you to go to prom with him in the way he knew best: simply asking. You were over the moon and had to stop yourself from jumping around and screaming in the hallway, opting for a “sure, Jason, I’d love to!” instead

Since he asked you out last minute, the two of you hadn’t gotten to plan your outfits together. Luckily for you, Jason had a very extensive tie collection, so he could easily match his to the colour of your dress

Speaking of your dress, Jason had no idea what it looked like. When he saw you arrive at your living room, a shy smile on your face, Jason’s jaw quite literally dropped

(Imagine the Hermione Yule Ball scene)

Your parents teased the two of you RELENTLESSLY for this before you left. Although they’d just met Jason, they knew he was absolutely perfect for you based on that reaction alone

They took so many pictures before you left that they might as well have been taking one for every single member of the family

Gentleman Jason Grace obviously made sure to open the car door for you and treated you with utmost grace (haha so funny) the entire time! His hand never left yours and he showered you with compliments the entire time

When I say the two of you were the most iconic duo at prom, I mean it. Everyone’s heads would turn when they saw you and you won prom king and queen by a landslide!

Even long after you graduated, people would talk about the two of you at prom and how stunning you looked. Literally king and queen of the school

You did have to lead the way during prom since Jason was very underprepared. He was so busy figuring out how to ask you to prom that the fact that it was a social event with things to do completely slipped his mind

(He’d mention this during your wedding vows years later, telling you and everyone who was there how it served as a reminder for him to never overthink anything he wanted to ask you, which was why it didn’t take him very long to ask if you’d marry him)

Although the prom was fun, the two of you ended up ditching a few hours in and going on an impromptu date, making it official whilst sharing an ice cream sundae 

Bonus! Thanks to lovely anon we have an idea of what the prom transition tiktok would look like <3 this is for JJ and Smartiepants ofc…

[ohmtoff]

Shots, shots, shots (Part 1)

Nick Sturniolo x Masc!OC

Summary: Nick is most definitely not having fun at a frat party Madi dragged him to, but this boy who’s staring at him hungrily may help him to have a good time (or: a very cliche and very self-indulgent fic of Nick getting it on with a frat bro)

WC: 4.8k

Contains: college!AU, frat bro!oc, drinking games, making out

Disclaimer: no smut yet, smut is in the next part. not an american, idk anything ab frat culture and the american college system in general, so there’s gna be some inaccuracies. this is just based on the frat fics ive read and my own college experiences.

a/n: was supposed to be a one-shot but i suddenly wrote 10k words💀 although i know nothing ab frat culture, how my american friends describe it is basically like any faculty organization in an indonesian uni lmao so hope my knowledge of how those orgs work help this a slight bit. anyways hope you enjoyyy <333

——————————————————————————-

Nick is most definitely not having fun.

He frowns as he feels the bitter burn of his fifth (or was it sixth?) shot going down, tipping his head back to get it to go down easily, well and truly smashed at this point. Madi would be proud. Speaking of… he hasn’t seen his best friend since they arrived at the party, the girl pestering him for hours earlier in the day to come party with her. Madi is tired of listening about The Breakup, and to be honest, Nick is too, but he didn’t agree to come with Madi only to have his supposedly best friend ditch him at the door, leaving him alone at a frat party where he knows absolutely no one. Especially not just so she can run off and suck face with some junior.

Nick spies his best friend making out with a boy he doesn’t know, back to him through the haze of the crowd, barely visible in the shitty purple LED lighting, especially with everyone packed into the house like sardines, the place filled to over capacity so that no one can move without being pressed up against someone or another. Well, unless they are sticking to the wall like Nick currently is. And he’s about to go give his friend a piece of his goddamn mind when he hears the voice beside him, his irritation still visible on his face as he turns to look.

“Hey.” The boy is staring at him with an intensity that is disarming, dark eyes set in an intense unwavering gaze as he looks, just enough light to make out the half-smile on the other boy’s face, only one corner of his mouth upturned slightly. The boy’s hair is half in his face, looking damp and mussed like he’s just stepped out of the shower. And Nick trails his gaze downwards, appreciating the other boy’s outfit, a black t-shirt with some obscure band logo, sleeves cut-off hastily, clearly homemade, the edges ragged, showing off the nice curves of the boy’s shoulders, the definition of his upper arms from hitting the gym obvious. All thrown over a pair of oversized black jeans.

The other boy is looking at him like he wants him, and Nick is too far gone to stop the delicious pit of arousal churning in his stomach, the euphoria going straight to his head, making him dizzy with desire. He’s not the type Nick usually goes for, in fact, the boy is the exact opposite of his ex, but that doesn’t stop his body from screaming fuck me now. “I haven’t seen you around before. Transfer or something?”

The question makes Nick give out a little snort of laughter. “No, not at all. Just not my scene.”

“Oh?” The boy raises an eyebrow questioningly, his tone clearly teasing as he slides in closer to avoid another boy trying to make his way past the two of them squeezed into the corner. Nick inhales sharply as the boy moves in closer, trapping him, his back pressed up against the wall with no room to go back further, the other boy bringing his arms up to brace against the wall, forming a makeshift barrier around Nick, casually caging him in. As he does, the smell of beer hits his nose, a smell he normally despises, but it’s mixing with something the boy is wearing underneath, something sweet and woody, and the combination is fucking intoxicating. “And what would be your scene then?”

He ignores the question, not wanting to say that maybe his scene is in his room, pitifully stuffing himself with fast food and crying into Madi’s shoulder about his ex months after the breakup, choosing instead to shift the topic, mumbling.  “You smell like shitty ass beer.”

“Shit, sorry.” The boy relaxes his arms, his face softening into a sheepish apologetic look that Nick finds almost endearing, backing up a step so that he’s not so deep into Nick’s personal space, and Nick takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartrate. “Got doused with beer earlier when they were spraying it into the crowd.”

“Seems like a waste of alcohol if you ask me.” The unexpected response makes the other boy’s eyes go wide, a moment of silence before he bursts out into raucous laughter.

“Yeah, shit, it probably is.” Nick hates that his breath hitches automatically as the other boy runs his hand through his black hair, shaking his head in apparent exasperation, looking unfortunately all too attractive in the process. “Imagine how many people could be more drunk than they already are if they hadn’t wasted all that beer.” The boy shoots him a grin, which he finds himself returning, or at least he hopes he is.

“So how did you get here?”

“My best friend, Madi. She dragged me here.” Nick admits, a slight eye-roll accompanying the statement. “Otherwise there’s no way I would come to a party in a dump like this. Complete shithole. Floor is disgusting, and the whole place looks like it’s going to collapse in on itself if they throw another couple of parties.” He finds himself having to yell to be heard, the music playing far too loud, the bass turned up so that he can quite literally feel the floorboards vibrating underneath his feet.

To Nick’s surprise and appreciation, the other boy appears to take an interest in listening to him, craning in closer and cocking his head to the side to hear better. His ex was an asshole that wouldn’t bother to make sure he was comfortable at parties, even after knowing Nick didn’t love large crowds, preferring to hang out with small groups of people instead. Plus points.  “Oh, I know Madi, met her at a general ed class last semester. She’s also friends with one of the frat bros here, I think. Nate. Anyways, enough about your friend. I haven’t even gotten your name yet.”

“It’s Nick.”

“Nick.” The other boy repeats it, long and drawn out as he rolls the sound around in his mouth, and the thought of the other boy saying his name as encouragement flashes in his head, mentally kicking himself for even thinking about blowing this complete stranger already within ten minutes of meeting. It’s the alcohol talking, definitely the alcohol. He desperately tries to repeat it to himself and believe it as he watches the other boy bite his lower lip in thought. Fuck. Yeah, so maybe it isn’t the alcohol making him want this boy. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t been fucked since The Breakup. Which was 3 months ago. Nick scowls. Fuck Madi for telling him he needs to get laid, and double fuck Madi for being right.

“And yours?”

“Evan. My name’s Evan.” The name sounds familiar, but Nick can’t quite place it, putting aside the feeling for now, instead choosing to concentrate on his plan of perhaps getting laid tonight. Which shouldn’t be hard considering the way Evan is looking at him right now. Like he wants to ravish Nick. With maybe a touch of possessiveness. Nick doesn’t mind the possessiveness, as long as they don’t go overboard. Possessive makes for a good fuck.

He gives in.

I’m here already, might as well have a good time.

He turns on the flirtiest smile he has, his lips curling into a natural irresistible pout as he keeps talking, his hand coming up to brush Evan’s arm, his fingertips lightly grazing the other boy’s bicep. Very obvious, very forward. No one would ever accuse Nick of being subtle, especially when it comes to getting what or who he wants. “Well, Evan, since this does seem to be your scene and not mine, what would you say to being responsible for me having a fun time tonight?” The words have the desired effect, Nick tracing the tightening of the other boy’s jaw with his eyes, pleased at the barely veiled show of restraint.

Nick feels a shiver of anticipation run up his spine as Evan leans forwards, tilting his head downwards as he speaks, the other boy’s hot breath against his earlobe, pressed in so close that Nick can feel the ghost of a touch from Evan’s lips. He isn’t able to prevent the gasp from escaping when he feels the other boy’s tongue, teeth giving him a quick nip. “Well, tonight’s your lucky night, baby. I am at your service. For anything you want.”

The words make Nick bristle, bringing both palms up to push at the other boy’s chest, startling Evan into stepping back off-balanced. “I don’t like being called baby.” He mutters. “Don’t do that.” His ex had called him baby, as an insult, somehow managing to insinuate every time that Nick was too demanding, too high maintenance, turning the word into a mocking reprimand each time. “My ex used to use that.” He pauses a beat. “Not in a good way.”

“Oh, shit.” Evan frowns, his eyebrows drawn together giving almost a menacing look, and Nick feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of Evan losing interest. Maybe I came off too strong. “Your ex sounds like an asshole.” He lets out the breath he doesn’t even realize he was holding, a ripple of relief running through him. “And all I meant…” Nick’s breath catches as the other boy slides his hand underneath his chin, tilting it upwards as he speaks. “…is that you look pretty. Delicate. Like someone who deserves to get everything they want.”

Everything they want.

The words make Nick flush, the heat crawling up the base of his neck, stinging his cheeks. I want you. And his first instinct is to throw all caution to the wind and regret his decisions tomorrow morning after the alcohol has worn off, when there isn’t a buzz in his veins making him want to throw himself at this boy. And he desperately wants it to be just a physical thing, after all, he doesn’t really know this guy. He could turn out to be some weirdo psychopath for all he knows, but damn it if it doesn’t make him feel good that this boy thinks he deserves everything. But before he can open his mouth and resign himself to his fate, a hand appears on Evan’s shoulder, accompanied by the loud voice of another boy.

“Hey, bro.” The hand on Evan’s shoulder becomes an arm pulling the taller boy into a half-headlock of sorts. “Not like you to hide away in the corner for so long. Don’t you miss being the life of our party?” The boy turns slightly, catching a glimpse of him, and Nick becomes acutely aware that he’s probably gaping. “Oh, I see now.” The boy gives him a salacious and knowing wink, casting a sidelong glance at Evan. “You must be the reason our leader here is hiding instead of greeting the guests.”

Leader?

The new boy smiles at him, bringing his free hand up in a little wave of acknowledgment. “I’m Nate, by the way.” Nate squints, giving him a careful once-over, and Nick feels like squirming, getting the distinct feeling that he is being sized up though he doesn’t know for what. “You’re Nick, aren’t you?” Nate grins excitedly at the realization. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Madi.”

Nick furrows his brows thinking how does he know Madi and why Madi’s talking about him, getting more lost within the conversation by the second. “Madi said he’d be your type, and it looks like he was right. Fuck.” Nate lets out a string of profanity, “Fuck me, Evan. That means I owe her fifty bucks. So really, fuck you.” Nate narrows his eyes at Evan, who isn’t even trying to hide his mirth, chortling at his friend’s distressed expression. “Unless, you two dickwads set me up.”

Evan shakes his head. “No, man, I didn’t even know who he was until he gave me his name.”

“Fuck.” Nate lets out one last swear in a drawn out sigh, smiling fondly at Evan. “Well, I hate to interrupt the overwhelming sexual tension between you two, but I do think our new president should give a speech at our first party of the year.”

“President?” Nick echoes the word without meaning to, the sound of loud buzzing in his ears drowning out the sound of everything else around them, noting the shit-eating grin on Evan’s face that is getting wider by the minute.

“Yeah, president of Chi Alpha Omega. You know, the ones hosting this party right now.”

Nick can feel the color draining from his face, accompanied by some wooziness in his head. Madi had told him about the president of ΧΑΩ before, about how he “got around” quite frequently, always with someone new every other weekend. And apparently in no short supply of people who want to casually hook-up with him. In short, a player through and through. And Nick can’t tell whether he’s disappointed that Evan is probably not interested in any type of relationship or just excited that the boy is likely a really good fuck. Or both.

But none of that really even matters because he had literally called Evan’s house a shithole.

Fuck.

Evan winks at him before turning to Nate. “Yeah, I can definitely say a few words. And by the way, Nick here thinks we should probably stop spraying beer into the crowd to hype up the party.” He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the overly serious and solemn expression on Evan’s face as he says that. “Apparently we’ve been wasting alcohol when we could be using it to get everyone even more drunk.” Nick wants to sink into the floor at the other boy’s next words, hoping desperately that the ground can swallow him up.

“And he’s also made me aware of the fact that apparently, we live in a shithole.”

Nate’s eyes go wide. Nick wants to kill himself.

“Well, not exactly a lie.” Nate laughs, clearly bemused by his worried expression. “We’ve been trying to get administration to move us out of this shithole for ages. They just won’t do it. So we figure if we throw a few extra ragers this year, and this dumpster fire of a house finally breaks, maybe they’ll consider letting us have a different building for the frat house.”

“Wait, so…” Nick says the words slowly, his head slow to catch up, not quite believing what he’s hearing. “…you all actually want to break this house. Like that’s your actual plan, and I’m not stuck in some weird-ass twilight zone time warp imagining this.”

“Correct.” Evan nods.

“You all are fucking crazy.”

“Correct.”

“Sooo, about that speech Evan?” Nate asks, stealing another glance at Nick. “Any time soon? Or am I assuming that you’re gonna be busy for the next hour or so?”

The implication makes him half-cringe on the inside. Is it that obvious?

“Yeah, of course, now is fine.” And then Nick feels the other boy’s hand around his, Evan’s fingers settling to interlock with his naturally as if they belong there, warm and inviting. A little overly warm, probably the alcohol. But it feels nice, gives him the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest for the first time in a long time. “You’re coming with me, baby.” Nick wants to protest the nickname, but he isn’t given the opportunity to, finding himself being dragged along by the taller boy, weaving through the crowd of people deftly, trying to keep close to the other boy’s back, his free hand reaching out to grab the untucked edge of Evan’s t-shirt. The other boy heads to the kitchen, passing by the crowd that is busy dancing, flirting, and Nick reminds himself to yell at Madi tomorrow, spotting his best friend out of the corner of his eye still attached to the face of a guy.

The kitchen is slightly less crowded, the only people slipping in and out to grab more beer or shots, the entire kitchen counter covered with half empty alcohol—rum, vodka, gin, whiskey. God, how much booze do they have?  Evan doesn’t let go of his hand as he opens the fridge, rummaging around before finally coming up with another handle of vodka. The taller boy just shakes his head as Nate gives him a questioning look. And then Nick follows as he is dragged along again, making their way back to the living room, heading straight towards the epicenter of all the noise in the house. Evan finally lets go of his hand, and Nick feels a twinge of concern as he watches the other boy climb up onto the ping pong table, ignoring the cry of protests from the people playing beer pong. No way he’s sober enough for this.  Somehow Evan’s voice is louder than the music, his voice floating above the noise.

“Hey, we having fun tonight?” The cheers and hoots rise up from the crowd, Evan clearly reveling in the attention, waving his arms to tell everyone to pump up the noise, and they do. After a minute or so of cheering, the other boy puts his finger to his lips in a shushing motion, quieting the crowd.

“Here’s to the first party of many this year for Chi Alpha Omega. As the president for this year, hope to see all of you underclassmen at rush in the spring.” Evan grins, and Nick hates that the other boy is so charismatic, everyone in the room turning to hang on to his every word. “And to kick off a good night, how about yours truly start off a round of body shots?” The crowd hoots and hollers. “First up, my newest friend, Nick.” He feels himself outright blushing this time, Evan looking downwards to wink at him, some of the people in the front of the crowd turning to stare.

He startles as Evan jumps down from the ping pong table, landing unevenly, grabbing on to his shoulder for balance before scooting back on to the table to take a seat, his legs hanging off the edge. “How about it, baby?”

And he’s about to object, but his mind goes completely blank as Evan crosses his arms over his chest, gripping the hem of his t-shirt in order to pull it up over his head, the other boy’s arm muscles tightening. The skin above Evan’s jeans comes into view first, the white band of the other boy’s Calvin Klein boxers just peeking out from the top, a sharp contrast from the smooth tan of Evan’s skin on top and the black of his jeans on the bottom. Nick can see a glimpse of the other boy’s hip bones, sharp and defined, and his gaze trails further upward to his belly button, abs slightly visible as Evan moves, and all the way up to the other boy’s chest.

But it’s the tattoo that makes Nick stop breathing.

It’s intricate, clearly well done and by a tattoo artist that cares about how the finished product looks, a revolver with its barrel pointing downwards, the tip disappearing under the white of the other boy’s boxers. And Nick doesn’t think he’s ever had a specific thing for guns. But fuck. Because he wants to think that he’s better than this, better than having the only thought running through his head being it’s pointing to his cock. And the overwhelming urge to find out just exactly how true it is.

“You’re up, baby.” The words make Nick snap his glance upwards, tearing his gaze away from the ink on the other boy’s skin, the embarrassment flitting through him as he realizes how long he had been staring, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Evan, who is grinning at him, definitely amused. He’s already poured the shot, messily spilling at least two shot’s worth of vodka on the ping pong table, and Nick experiences a stroke of utter insanity, the words coming out before he can stop them.

“You should probably clean that up.”

“Hmm, maybe later.”

“It’s going to get sticky.”

“Maybe I like sticky.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that the whole scene is probably bizarre as fuck, talking about cleaning while the whole room is waiting for him to take a shot off a boy he doesn’t even know. But Nick feels as if he’s in a haze, entirely blocking out the rest of the room as Evan crooks a finger at him, motioning for him to get closer, the other boy’s legs parting on the table, stretching apart to give him room to fit in between, and Nick is uncomfortably aware of Evan’s jeans, the material stretching over the other’s boy’s thighs, even tighter now that Evan is sitting.

“Come.”

He comes.

The shiver of arousal runs through him as he gets closer, coming up to the edge of the table, Evan winking at him as he squeezes Nick’s sides slightly with his thighs, making the feeling curl deliciously in his groin. And the other boy lies down slowly, not breaking eye contact with Nick as he does, and god help him, because it only makes the outline of the other boy’s abs deepen. Fuck. The shot glass is placed right over Evan’s belly button, wobbling as the other boy breathes in and out, and Nick winces as Evan starts off a chant of encouragement.

“Drink, drink, drink.”

Fuck it, it’s just one shot.

He doesn’t try to overthink it, leaning down with his head to clumsily grasp the shot glass with his mouth, intending on throwing his head back and downing the vodka all at once. He tells himself it doesn’t mean anything as he braces his palms against the other boy’s thighs, enjoying the feeling of muscle underneath his hands. But he’s not used to the motion, not able to use his hands, and he ends up spilling half of it, feeling Evan’s thighs tense around his waist as the cold liquid hits the other boy’s bare skin, some of the vodka settling into the crevices of Evan’s abs, already starting to slide off his body.

Nick doesn’t know why he does it.

But the next instant, his tongue is on Evan’s skin, feeling the other boy tense as he does it, licking the rest of the vodka off of the other boy, the feeling of burning still in the back of his throat from the half he does drink, dipping his tongue in to run along the grooves of Evan’s abs, the slight saltiness of the other boy’s sweat mixing with the taste of alcohol. And he’s pressing half-kisses, half sloppy licks against the other boy’s skin, the tips of his fingers reaching upwards from where they’re resting against Evan’s thighs to brush against the boy’s sharp hipbones, an inch or so above his jeans.

As he dips his tongue into his belly button, Evan bucks his hips upwards, the wanting movement making the arousal go straight to his cock. And he tells himself it’s because he’s trying to clean every last bit of vodka off of Evan’s body, but it isn’t the alcohol giving him a high as he runs the tip of his tongue slowly down the barrel of the gun tattoo that Evan has, the thought of going further and further down until he reaches the other boy’s cock making him hot and dizzy. The thought of Evan holding his head down and tugging on his hair as he gives the other boy a blowjob. Further, further. Evan squirms as he licks his way downwards over the exposed skin, and Nick wonders if it tickles, his nose already nudging the edge of the other boy’s boxers.

A bad fucking idea.

And he’s just about to pull away, the feeling of regret mixed with horror hitting him as he surfaces from his reckless decision, half-aware that they’re still in a very public room for the first time since Evan had told him Come, when he feels it. Evan half-hard against his palm, his hand accidentally brushing too close to the other boy’s inner thighs as he tries to move back, and before he can process that fact, everything around him moves.

Nick yelps as he feels Evan’s hands on the back of his thighs, dangerously close to his ass, and he’s suddenly being lifted up into the air, his legs coming up to wrap themselves around the other boy’s waist, his hands grabbing at Evan’s shoulders to balance himself. He vaguely hears the sound of catcalls coming from the crowd, his head falling forward, his face buried into the crook of the other boy’s neck, the smell of beer in Evan’s hair and that smell of wood and vanilla. A few quick strides, and Nick finds his back up against the wall for the second time tonight, Evan’s hips pressed into him, grinding him up against the wall as he plants kisses against Nick’s neck.

The other boy is definitely completely hard now, the feeling against his thigh each time Evan moves his hips making the arousal tighten in Nick’s groin. And it’s a fleeting thought, that he is grateful for wearing a white tank top, giving Evan free access, the other boy’s tongue darting out to run itself along the top of Nick’s collarbones, sucking likely-to-be-hickeys into his skin hungrily.

His fingers curl themselves into the other boy’s hair for purchase, needing something to grab onto as he writhes in Evan’s embrace, his eyes closed, his breath coming out ragged. An unbidden moan comes forth as he feels Evan sneak his hands underneath his tank top, the other boy’s fingers splayed against the skin at his waist, his thumbs digging into the spot just above his hipbones. Evan’s hands feel hot against his skin, burning into him more than he thought possible, and Nick’s eyes flutter open only to remember that everyone is still there, that they’re not alone.

“W-wait,” The words come out weakly in between little pants and far too soft for Evan to hear anyway, and Nick wonders if the idea of the other boy fucking him against the wall in front of a crowd of people should turn him on as much as it does. Fuck.

“Get a fucking room!”

The loud jeer seems to snap Evan out of it, the other boy stopping his attack against Nick’s neck long enough for him to catch his breath. Most of the room has gone back to whatever they were doing before, and it’s nearly impossible to pick out whoever had yelled it. “Don’t mind if I do.” Evan grins at him, not waiting for a proper response. “Hold on.” Nick just manages to get his arms around Evan’s shoulders before the other boy starts moving, hoisting him up slightly to get a better grip on the underside of his thighs, Evan’s chin nestled into his shoulder, the other boy’s breathing hot on his neck.

The sounds of the party slowly start to fade away as they ascend the stairs to the second floor, the stairway narrow and not lit, and Nick winces as he is jostled against the wall a few times on their way up, Evan’s steps not as steady he would have hoped. All he can hear now is the other boy’s breathing, slow and deep, the sound comforting, and Nick breathes in and out to match the other boy’s. I wonder if Madi was right, and I’m his type.  And he’s sure that he’s Evan’s type physically, the whole display downstairs has convinced him of that, but for the first (okay, maybe second or third) time tonight, he has the niggling suspicion that he might like it if he is Evan’s type for more, the way the other boy puts him at ease so naturally and effortlessly perhaps giving him more butterflies than he’d care to admit.

His mind unwillingly flashes him scenes on what it would be like dating Evan. Would he like his eggs scrambled or poached? What shows would they binge together? Would Evan show him off to his frat brothers?

Evan licks a stripe behind his ear where he’s most sensitive. Ah, fuck it. Who cares about dating? Nick knows he’s going to get fucked till he forgets his own name tonight.  

tags: @thenickgirl @mybelovednick @sukiipjs

[vergilbergart]

um um um Tekken AU where Jun doesn't get got by Ogre and raises Jin, and also she helped iron things out among some of the Tekken 2 participants so she befriended them and they befriended each other, and in turn, their kids / grandkids became childhood besties. i have thoughts about this entire thing under the cut bc ive been rotating this au in my brain for so long LOL

click on images for better quality

in this AU, Jun doesn't get got by Ogre, so she's in Jin's life and he doesn't end up with Heihachi - but also Jun's presence helps clear up some of the stuff among the Tekken 2 participants so she becomes friends with Law, Paul Phoenix, Lee, Jinrei, Baek, and Michelle - probably would be on friendly terms with some others, but those are her main friend group

Jinrei and Lee help to hide Jin from Heihachi too, which is appreciated, but Jun largely moves around w Jin through his childhood, and Heihachi pays her no mind at all. they settle in Osaka near Asuka's part of the Kazama family tho, and everyone visits each other whenever they can - contributing to the kids becoming friends (will draw Asuka eventually)

Baek adopts Hwoarang when he's a lot younger for the sake of this AU, but also I think it adds an interesting thing bc haha he has to live with the guilt of killing his father but now HE is a father (((:

Uncle Lee is real to me. Uncle Lars would be real too, but I need to figure out where to fit him into the timeline, because he's actually around the same age as Forest????????

list of things that are real to me in this AU: Paul Phoenix / Marshall Law / Mrs Law polycule, actually accurate Native American Chang family (a friend and I figured the Changs would be Apache [: altho if there any inaccuracies with her regalia, pls let me know!), blasian Lee, a bunch of other things i can't name right now lol

so like, i imagine that Kazuya does come back eventually, altho we'll get to that whenever i actually draw a thing of all of the adults lol. let's just say tho .... he and Jun love each other while also giving EXTREME divorce lmao

if yall have questions or anything feel free 2 send an ask i guess lol.

[bleaksqueak]

hiya...... i love them both very much sorry for any design inaccuracies i was drawing them from memory....... on that note, do you maybe have any design refs for ur characters? i wanted to draw them fullbudy but the comic is so dynamic and intricate that they always have some shading going on and some parts of their clothes are covered up, so i'm struggling with figuring out the base colors and all the outfit details. thanks again for the awesome comic :-D off to read the new upload!! 💐♥️🦭

Oh my god!! I didn't check tumblr for a couple of days and then come back and find this! I love sketches and pencil/ink drawings so much and they're so super cute how you drew them here!! Thank you so very much, I wish I could hang every drawing people send me on my wall. And look, no worries about design inaccuracies. I leave stuff off all the time, too, and they look perfect to me here. Design sheets!! i've been meaning to upload their full body refs and keep forgetting sfjkafj. These are sadly out of date as they were done before Chapter 0 was even finished, but I hope they suffice for now!

height side by side and a very very out of date literal-first-doodle of the back of the coat. Here's Audric's, which hasn't really changed at all since this initial design. He's just one of those rare characters that didn't have to go through a refinement phase. His reaper partner's design sheet is mostly done but I'd prefer to release hers when she actually comes into the comic properly.

Lyra and Audun, tho these are only sketches, both are final designs. Audun will get a clearer ref like Lyra's simple one later, I was designing his outfit in this one since that rank of officer coat hadn't been seen yet And here's a much more up-to-date sketch of Maia that will serve as a new model for her when I get to color it. Elias has a new one started, too, but will have to wait to be shown (... it's that messy lmao)

And Maia's cloak/coat assets (plus her vault key) that I use for production fitted together, these are up to date! Basically, the color base for their uniform is a dark warm-grey in most scenes (but since the actual uniform coat/cloak is black, this is just done for visibility and often I tint it to reflect whatever light is in the scene or to contrast it. So "it's black, but I usually choose a warm grey base to keep it visible." ... Silver and bronze accents are shown separated here. I put up a patreon pack a while back that has my actual assets and brushes I made for their uniform emblems, but for now, it's visible here)

[meloncholy-words]

Robin: A Word That Means Run (Chapter 1: Nightwing)

Nightwing hasn't been Robin in years. He still remembers what that name means in a situation like this.

A/N: I'm not going to apologize for any inaccuracies in lore and characterization. If canon can fuck off and do whatever they please than I can too. I'll try staying as close to what I know as canon as possible but also I do what I want lmao.

~~~

Chapter Warnings: Explosions, minor gun violence(no one gets shot but there are guns), canon typical violence(nothing graphic/explicit! it's just there), swearing, Scarecrow's fear toxin (though the effects of it happen off screen), mentions of past violence, mentions of injury(stitches, concussion, etc.). No permanent injury or death occurs! Let me know if I should add more warnings!

AO3 | Chapter List

The case was simple: Scarecrow was shipping out vials of fear toxin to buyers from other cities. There were five buyers; one from New York City, Washington DC, Brooklyn, Metropolis, and Blüdhaven. All that they had to do was intercept the sales, arrest the buyers, and run tests on the toxin to check if it was a new strain. It usually wasn't, but it never hurt to check. If it was, that would mean that Scarecrow was planning something big.

The issue was that all sales were happening on the same night, and all in different parts of Gotham, with not enough vigilantes to handle all of them.

Red Hood was investigating a new business of dealers near his territory, trying to gauge how much of a threat they were so he could take them out. They were experienced, and growing fast; if he didn't nip it as fast as he could, it might grow out of control and start becoming an issue.

Spoiler and Black Bat had had a recent run in with Killer Croc, and were both benched due to injuries. Steph had a sprained ankle, and many stitches all along her arms and back. Cass had a dislocated shoulder and concussion, as well as many stitches along her legs and torso. Both were lucky to have not gotten worse.

Signal, despite insisting that he should go, was out of commission. He'd already worked well into the night shifts the previous three nights due to several kidnapping situations that happened too close together to not be connected, but ended up just being very coincidental. That, plus his need to keep his grades up, had him pretty sleep deprived. While not usually an issue, a fourth night out later than he should've been would've only made it worse, and fear toxin with sleep deprivation was one of their absolutely nots.

That left only Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Nightwing to deal with busting the sales. Four vigilantes to deal with five sales in five separate locations within the city. No problem, could be done very easily.

Nightwing had gotten the sale in Fashion District. The information that Oracle had been able to dig up lead him to an alley behind a two-story boutique. An unusual meeting place, but better than some abandoned warehouse. That was just becoming cliche at this point.

He was perched on a rooftop above, blending into the dark, clouded sky. It wasn't as efficient as the shadows, but he had been yet to be spotted. A car was already waiting, three guys twiddling their feet as they waited. The buyers, undoubtedly. Nightwing sat studying them from above.

Their car was a black SUV, covered in family stickers. Likely to be more inconspicuous, but could've been from one of their moms. Criminals were just like that sometimes. Two of the men were obviously well built, their frames on the bulky side. The third wasn't quite so built, but he seemed relaxed as they leaned back against the metal frame of the car, so he wasn't just some lackey dragged along. Likely a getaway driver, maybe the leader of this operation.

After around 15 minutes of sitting around, a van pulled up to the entrance of the alley. The driver stayed inside, while the the passenger and a few men from the back hopped out. The gimmicks of their outfits told Nightwing that they were Scarecrow's men. One of them was carrying a briefcase, which he identified as the goods.

The three guys snapped to alert, the leaner man taking charge. That clued into him being the leader. They met each other half way, a conversation springing from hushed voices. Nightwing strained to hear what they were saying, but that wasn't the important thing. What he needed to do was stop the sale from happening.

He monitored the men for a bit longer, listening to them speak. They were haggling, probably. If they sale went through, than he would need to apprehend all of them. If it didn't, he'd only need to deal with Scarecrow's men. The others would be their own cities problem.

"My sale fell through," came Red Robin's voice crackling through the comm in his ear. "Moving in now."

Below him, the leader gestured back toward the car. One of the bulky men moved towards it, opening the back and pulling out a small duffel bag. He handed the bag over, and Nightwing shifted to get a better look at the bag that was being opened.

Yep, that was cash.

"My sale is going through," Nightwing said into his mic, hushed. "Moving in."

Before the trade off could happen, Nightwing slipped off the ledge of the roof quietly. He angled himself slightly, making sure that when he landed it was on the lean man's shoulders, sending him shooting down to the ground under the weight. The man under him grunted as he hit the ground, letting out a wheeze. He wasn't unconscious, but he made no move to get up. Probably due to the pain of being slammed into an alley's concrete floor from roughly 180 pounds from above.

"Gentlemen," he chirped in greeting, electrifying the ends of his escrima sticks before flipping of the man under him towards the other two. The men reached towards their waistbands, likely reaching for a gun, but it mattered little when the electricity pressed hard above their collarbones. They spasmed, muscles stiffening under the shock, before collapsing as he pulled back.

Scarecrow's men gasped, followed by shouts and the sounds of feet scuttling away. Nightwing grabbed the lean man's collar, tossing him towards the other two. He dropped a bead in between them that exploded, wrapping cord around their limbs and tying them together.

"I'll be back for you!~" he called in a sing song voice, spinning around to watch the henchmen loading into the van. He pulled one of his sticks up, letting the hidden grapple inside of it shoot into the side of the building. The van roared to life, and Nightwing used the momentum of his lines tension to propel forward, landing on the roof as the wheels screeched against the road.

"Sale went through, moving in," came Robin, and from the sounds of exertion coating his voice, he was a little late on that callout.

The van wiggled underneath Nightwing's grip, trying to shake him off. Nightwing acquiesced, his hands gripping the edge of the top as he forced his legs down and through the windows of the back doors.

Several more shouts filled the air, and Nightwing was quick to silence them. He was also careful to not shatter the fear toxin that had been dropped on the floor in the struggle. The passenger in the front whipped around, and Nightwing was distantly aware of the glint of metal pointing towards him, but he snapped the wrist pointing the gun at him before he even recognized it as a gun.

The henchmen yelped in pain, and then did it again when his head was slammed into the dashboard. Nightwing hopped over the seats, landing on top of the unconscious body, his feet resting in the lap of the driver. In his hands, a stick came to life with more electricity.

"You gonna pull over?" he asked, smile in his voice as he waved the shocked-up end at the other. The henchmen let out a small whimper, leaning away from the weapon. Nightwing almost felt bad for him as he screeched off to the side, obeying.

When all of the henchmen were tied up, and Nightwing had doubled back to make sure the almost-buyers hadn't managed to escape, he notified the police before sitting back on a roof, basking in his victory.

"All involved are apprehended and waiting for police custody, and the toxin has been secured," Nightwing said, stretching out from where he was sat. The men didn't put up much of a fight, but the few blows the did land would probably bruise in the morning. Probably. This was a surprisingly easy run. "Reports?"

"Scarecrow's men are being tied up now," Red Robin replied, his voice soft after the fight. "Toxin secured"

"All involved apprehended," came Batman, who hadn't given the status earlier, the asshole. "Toxin secured."

"You never notified us you were moving in," Nightwing said helpfully. Not that it mattered too much; he was Batman, he'd be fine. "I'll start moving into the last sale now. Send me the location, O." Then, after a beat, "Robin, status?"

There was a brief stutter of silence. Nightwing hardly noticed it as he crossed from building to building, careful not to break anything. Hardly.

"Robin?"

"All involved apprehended," came the shaky voice of Robin. Uh oh, not good. "Toxin secured, one... one vial broken."

Shit.

"Try staying calm, I'll head your way," Nightwing said, spinning on his heel to where Robin handled his sale in the Narrows. It was on the opposite side of Gotham, but he'd be damned if he didn't do anything to-

"Actually," cut in Oracle's voice, "You should get over to Diamond for that last sale. You're the closest, and if all other sales are finished by now, that one might be close to done, or already finished. Red's the closest to Robin, he can go."

Red gave an affirming hum into his mic. "On my way, hang tight Robin. ETA like... 12 minutes."

Robin didn't respond, which made Dick's heart stop, but he turned back to his original path. His family was reliable, and they'd be fine. Stopping this sale was important, and he wasn't even close enough to object.

"I'll go with Nightwing," Batman said, voice gruff and focused as usual. "If they're wrapping up, and he gets there too late, I can keep speed with the batmobile."

"Acknowledged," Nightwing acknowledged as he soared over the gaps between buildings. "ETA 5 minutes."

Those five minutes were rather silent, only filled with his heavy breathing and grunts and he hopped and rolled around and off the rooftops. The vials in the briefcase he had pressed against his ribs clanked together ominously, but there was not breaking glass yet. He hoped there wouldn't be.

This time, the place of sale was some old, rundown warehouse. Nightwing gently set down the briefcase on the roof, dropping through a shattered skylight and moving like a spider in the rafters. There was arguing below him, loud and... not quite angry. No, it was frustrated, and building up to anger.

"I'm just saying, that seems like a high price to pay for something we don't even know works." The accent suggested Blüdhaven. Good, these were his own criminals then. He could handle that just fine.

Nightwing slipped around the rafters a little more until he had a clear view of everyone. He took a quick headcount. Five of Scarecrow's men, and he thought he saw another van outside, so probably more in total. Seven men stood before them, and Nightwing thought he recognized them from a gang who caused a lot of problems for him. It was hard to tell in the dark. This warehouse was so run down that there wasn't even any lighting in here.

"Twelve counted inside, likely more spotted outside," he said into his mic, his voice kept low and even as the men continued to argue. "The outcome of this is probably gonna be a big fight, so have your rebreather on just in case."

Nightwing slipped his own rebreather over his mouth, fastening it tight behind his head.

"Understood. I'm pulling up now."

The arguing below softened, and Nightwing was struggling to hear what was being said again. He did notice the exchange of bags, though.

"Good, the sale just went through. You're just in time."

Once more, Nightwing dropped from the sky like a missile. This time, he focused on the henchmen, as the gang men had the fear toxin. He had to be careful to not break them open. Even if he had his rebreather on, fear toxin wasn't fun to deal with.

These henchmen put up a bit more of a fight. Not good enough, of course. The metal pipe to the back of his head was, though.

Four of the five of Scarecrow's men were down, and what knocked him off his feet was a metal pipe. Damn. He tucked and rolled with the blow, bouncing up on his hands and knocking the weapon away with a kick. He was back on his feet, escrima sticks in both hands and poised to fight when a shadow descended upon the others.

The fighting only increased with a new player in the ring, but it was easier this time. Batman wrestled the briefcase of vials out of the gang's hands, tossing it on the floor behind him and out of the crossfire. The final henchmen had been forgotten in favor of the others. By the time another four men were down, Nightwing had realized that it was a mistake.

A click of metal made Nightwing whip around, arms raised and ready to either take or deal some serious blows. What he saw, instead, was a grenade mid air, heading fast towards him. It bounced off the ground, nestling against the briefcases handle.

Nightwing's muscles tensed, crouching low and fast, the hold on his weapons loosening. He needed to grab the briefcase. If the toxin blew, everyone without a rebreather would be affected. Dealing with a large number of criminals was hard; dealing with a large number of criminals who were terrified out of their minds and fighting like caged animals was hell.

His eyes flicked over to the grenade, and he hesitated. That wasn't good. You never hesitated on the field like this. But he knew those grenades. Most had plenty of seconds of fuse in them, for optimal range. If a grenade blew up too quickly after it was thrown, you'd get caught in the crossfire. But these ones, the one that had been thrown his way and was nestled against too many vials of fear toxin, was very short fused. The best way to take out a bat was to surprise them. That was very hard to do.

Using a weapon with no guarantee of survivability for the user was a good way to do it.

Nightwing wouldn't have time to move, not anymore. Maybe if he'd jumped at first, he could've gotten far enough away. But he was crouched down low, leaning toward the thing rigged to explode in at most two seconds, one hand reaching forward. His mind processed, vaguely, that he should run. Maybe he could run still, maybe, but would his body catch up to his thought process? Probably not. It hadn't even registered he was in danger yet.

Shit. He was going to die, huh? Or at the very least get badly injured. He was going to maybe die because he was too slow to recognize danger and his body was even slower to respond to his mind's commands and-

"Robin!"

His body moved before his mind caught up this time. He didn't know why. He hadn't been Robin in, what, 8 years? 9? But he new that name. He new that tone. He'd heard them both countless times over the years. And when they were paired together like this, when his veins were full of adrenaline and his stomach felt like a pit of ice, it meant run.

So he did. His legs pushed up, and his hips turned so fast he might've gotten whiplash, and his arms reached out until they found something firm and dark and safe. There was the flutter of a cape, and then there were strong arms around him, grabbing so tightly that the skin and bone underneath them ached.

There was an explosion. He didn't feel it. He could hear the sound of it, the gunpowder igniting and swelling into a cloud of fire. He could hear shouts and shrieks around him, groans and yells and maybe something breaking. He could feel his side grinding against something he recognized as the floor, but it felt distant.

He could feel his face pressed into a chest, coated in a thick material that had repelled knives, bullets, and wandering hands and fingers that traced the bat design on it after he had saved someone that he would gag about later in the back of the batmobile because he was too small to ride shotgun.

The floor under him stopped moving, and the screams had cut off. He peaked an eye open, looking up at the roof of the warehouse. There was a face there, with a chiseled jaw and scars that were small enough they could only be seen up close. There was black material that only covered the top half of that face. Above them was a thick substance in the air. Fear toxin, he registered after a few moments.

Slowly, the two bodies pulled apart. A hand was under his arm, guiding him up to stand. A survey of the area showed no deaths. Everyone unprotected had at least been far enough to only have been blown back. No missing limbs, no cuts, no burns. Just a few bruises.

"Are you guys okay?" Oracle asked, a hint of panic in her voice. "Cameras showed a bright light go off inside, and your vitals are off."

"All good, Oracle," said Batman, still surveying the scene. "There was a little explosion. No one seems seriously injured. Everyone else is unconscious, though, and there's toxin in the air." He didn't mention calling for his Robin.

"Good news about that!" Red Robin chimed. "It's not a new strain, which means we have antidotes on standby. Also, Robin's doing alright."

"Hn, good. We'll tie up loose ends here and head out. See you at the cave."

There was a round of sign-offs, and the two in the warehouse began rounding up the unconscious thugs. Toxin seeped out of the skylight above. The henchman that threw the grenade was nowhere to be seen, likely having fled during the chaos.

"I left my case of toxin up on the roof," Nightwing said when everyone had been restrained. He didn't mention the name either.

Batman let out a hum of acknowledgment. "I'll be waiting for you in the batmobile to head back to the cave." The flutter of a cape - one that had protected him - let him know that his dad was gone.

Nightwing climbed his way up to the roof once more, slow and deliberate. His body ached a bit more, now that he'd taken more hits and had been thrown across the floor. Being thrown by an explosion wasn't fun, 0/10, would not do it again.

Despite that, there was a smile plastered on his face.

Dick kinda liked being Robin again.

[dawninlatin]

Can I have a sketch with Manorian where Manon is pregnant and Dorian is taking care of her??😭 I love these vanilla

Hiii anon🌞

By sketch, I sincerely hope you mean drabble, bc I absolutely cannot draw🫣 I can write tho, so I hope you enjoy this teensy tinsy snippet since I’m currently on vacation in Copenhagen without my laptop😌 (yes i’m just typing on my phone so pls forgive all errors lmao)

Hi this is me again two days later, at home with my laptop:) As usual what started out as a drabble turned into a whole-ass fic, but I hope you still enjoy it:):) Also I've never been pregnant (and thank god for that) so I take no responsibility for any inaccuracies....

~~~

Manorian one shot, canonverse, 1,5k words

Manon slowly opened her eyes, squinting at the morning sun shining through the curtains. She wasn’t sure what had woken her up this time, but the sunlight meant she’d gotten a few hours of sleep, at least.

With a sigh, she tried to get comfortable, even if that was impossible these days. Next to her, a still-asleep Dorian shifted, throwing an arm over her middle and snuggling close. 

He mumbled something Manon couldn’t make sense of, but she just shoved at him, hissing «Don’t touch me.»

«I just wanna cuddle,» he murmured, his lips caressing her neck in a way that usually would have had Manon wanting and ready.

Instead, she let out a huff, and gave a weak attempt at swatting him away once more, when he didn't move. Manon was usually strong enough to just push him away from her, but right now she couldn't find the energy to bother.

«Just cuddling is what got us in this situation in the first place.» Manon looked at her round belly as she spoke, the thing so big she resembled a beached whale. She couldn’t fathom how she still had a month and a half left to get even bigger.

Safe to say, Manon wasn’t particularly enjoying pregnancy. In fact, she hated it, and couldn’t wait for it to be over so she could have their witchling and her body back. 

She was nothing like the insufferable ladies at court, though, who only spoke in hushed voices about avoiding strechmarks and staying tight down thereso that Dorian would still desire her.

Yes, she missed sleeping comfortably and moving freely, but in the end, the only thing that mattered was that their witchling was born alive and healthy. 

And her current state did nothing to quell Dorian’s desire, it seemed, given by the stiff cock pressing against her thigh at the moment.

That’s his problem to deal with, Manon thought grumpily as she once more pushed his shoulder.

There had been a few months in the middle of her pregnancy, after she’d stopped puking all day and night but before the constant fatigue and body aches, where she’d been insatiable, jumping Dorian at any opportunity, but sex these days required too much moving on her part, so their couplings were few and far between.

«Dorian, move. I’m too warm and clammy for cuddling.» It sounded more like a whine than she’d like, but whining seemed to be her default mode for communicating lately.

Manon also really had to pee, but she always really had to pee, so the heat was the most unbearable at the moment.

They had arrived in Rifthold three days ago for the King’s upcoming birthday celebration, but given that Dorian had been born in the middle of summer, it had been three days of bright sun, no wind and a much too high temperature.

Already, Manon longed to return to the Witch Kingdom. Yes, it may be summer there as well, but it’s location on the western coast of Erilea meant a constant, cooling wind blowing in from the vast ocean. She would give anything right now to feel that wind on her face.

The plan had been to stay for two weeks to attend the royal birthday celebration, and then return to the Witch Kingdom together, where they would remain until well after their witchling was born, but Manon’s hips and pelvis had been aching for days now, the pain only increasing, and she wasn’t sure she could make the trip back to the Wastes if it got much worse. The mere possibility filled her with anxiety. 

They had discussed this long ago, how important it was to Manon that their child was born in the Witch Kingdom. Both because she wanted the comfort of being surrounded by her own, but also because while the curse had been lifted, witches were still wary of giving birth on the previously barren land, fearing it would lead to a stillborn witchling, so if their heir was born on foreign soil, it would send the wrong kind of message.

Manon couldn’t lie still for a moment longer, so she gave the still-sleeping king one final shove, glad that he actually moved this time, then rolled out of bed and waddled her way to the bathing chamber, as she’d done so many times earlier that night.

-

After what seemed like an eternity, Manon returned to their bedchamber to find Dorian awake and out of bed, pulling on a shirt. It annoyed her to no end that he could look so good after just waking up.

How miserable she felt must have been written on her face, because the king gave her a look filled with sympathy. «How was your night?»

Stopping in the middle of the room, Manon sighed «Terrible.» The day had barely begun, but she could already feel tears trying to escape. That was another thing she hated with being pregnant. There were so many emotions. All. The. Time. In one moment, she could storm out of a room in anger simply because Dorian’s presence annoyed her so much, but then in the next she could come back crying, needing to be in his arms, sobbing that «she was sorry for being so mean».

It truly marveled her, how she’d gotten to this point. Standing in the bedchamber she shared with the King of Adarlan, her husband, whom she had married not for alliance or plotting, but love, wearing a loose linen dress, the only item of clothing comfortable enough and big enough to fit her enormous belly because she was so very pregnant, and trying not to burst into tears in front of said husband, which was no worry, really, since she did it all the time now, but she still tried to keep some of her dignity.

Sensing that she neared another breakdown, Dorian came over to her, standing behind her. Manon leaned against him, her back to his front, and his hands immediately went to her belly, caressing it. «How can I make it better?»

Manon didn’t answer him, only closed her eyes, savoring the comfort of his arms. How clingy she’d gotten had been one of the first signs of her pregnancy, as it was common for witches, along with the nausea.

Then Dorian did something incredible. He placed his hands underneath her belly and lifted it, taking  almost all the weight off of her hips and pelvis.

Feeling her whole body straighten, Manon let out a moan, her head falling backwards to rest against Dorian’s shoulder.

When in addition, an ice-kissed wind summoned by the king’s raw magic caressed her face, the relief was so great Manon did start to cry.

«What’s the matter, witchling?» Dorian asked as silent tears trickled down her cheeks. 

She merely leaned into him further.

Manon had spent 117 years of her immortal life locking every emotion, every fear, deep within herself, never showing any weakness or vulnerability, so getting to a point where she could be real and raw with Dorian had been hard, and she still struggled with communicating her needs at times.

Dorian pressed a light kiss to her jaw. «Talk to me, love.»

«I want to go home.» The words came out as a whisper, but Dorian heard them. He hummed, a phantom hand brushing her hair out of her face. The pure love in those simple gestures urged her to go on.

«I can’t take the heat here. I’m always uncomfortable now, but the heat makes it unbearable! It feels like I’m suffocating. And what if I can’t make it back to the Wastes in two weeks? What if I’ll have to give birth here?»

«Then we’ll go back now,» Dorian said, his calm voice grounding her, if only a little. «I need a few hours to arrange things, but if you need to go back, we’ll go back.»

Even if it was exactly what she wanted, Manon shook her head, feeling selfish for making him drop everything just for her. He was a king, after all, and while they had spent as much time together as possible throughout her pregnancy, he still had responsibilities here.

«We can’t just go back. You need to stay here for your birthday celebration, and I don’t want to go back alone.» She let out a sob at the thought. Witches going into labour early wasn’t uncommon, and the thought of giving birth to their witchling without Dorian there scared her more than anything.

«Fuck that. The people care more about the celebration in itself than what they’re celebrating.»

Manon was about to protest, but Dorian stopped her.

«What’s most important to me, is you, Manon, and our witchling,» a phantom hand stroked her belly at that, «and if traveling back to the Wastes is what’s best for you right now, that’s what we’ll do.»

Placing her hands over Dorian’s, Manon nodded once, feeling a little less scared, a little more ready for what was to come. «That’s what we’ll do.»

Taglist: @fireheartfaery @bookishwitchling @celestialams @darklingswhxore @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn@sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @rainbowcheetah512 @mirubyjane @zoyalovesbooks

[my-tin-can-mans]

Strange Hearts, Part 4 The Duke

Leto x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Strange Hearts Spotify Playlist

Summary: When an arranged marriage brings you to Caladan, you find that another man piques your interest

Disclaimer: I thought of this while fic and started writing under the impression Paul was in his early to mid-‘20s like Timothy. So for the sake of this story he and the reader are both in their twenties. Sorry for any inaccuracies, I’ve only watched the movie and really only paid attention to Oscar lmao.

Warnings: A little bit of angst. Unwanted Marriage? technically love triangle/affair.

Leto had always been a composed Duke. It took a lot to break that from him, yet it seemed that the moment he walked into the library that trait had shifted. No that wasn't it, it wasn't in the library. It wasn't even when you kissed him later that night, although he did seem to like it. 

When he had come to apologize to you, he had kept his composure, when he turned and started to walk away, he had kept his composure, but when he held his hand to the knob on your door and heard a broken cry, it slipped through the cracks of it. Leto was the Duke, a ruler, and a pleaser, and to hear you sound so hurt, and knowing it directly related to him, he could not bear it. 

You were gorgeous, you always had been. When he had visited you in your homeworld he had always thought so. Thought that when you were to be married, it would cause wars as to who your father would marry you off to. How ironic that you were offered to the only person that made it difficult for him to now forget about you. 

Leto didn’t pity you for your situation, but he did empathize with you. Sacrificing yourself and your dreams for the hopes and aspirations of your fathers, seemed all too familiar. Maybe that's why he had been so drawn to you. Maybe that is why he kissed you back that first night you were here and why he turned to comfort you after hearing your cry. 

Something about you showing up in his house had switched his mind to a different setting. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t, no shouldn't have you. He definitely could, he's proven as much. But that wasn’t it, no, because he has you and he still felt the need to be close to you. You were like a virus that entered his life unexpectedly. Everything about you invaded his mind. The soft skin he had touched, your smell, your sweet voice. 

When he left your room that night, Leto went back to his. He opened the door to find Lady Jessica sitting on his bed waiting for him. Shit. 

Leto loved Lady Jessica with every part of himself. But when he had been with you, he hadn’t thought of her. And now the thought made his stomach sink. Jessica has always been there for him, always stayed by his side, and loved him no matter what. He had just thrown all that down the drain for some girl who was getting married. 

What an idiot. What did he think was gonna happen? He had Jessica and you had Paul, although you and Paul weren’t really together, not yet at least, he could tell Paul liked you and that made his stomach sink even lower. You had to share this castle with them now. He had put you in the worst predicament ever. Not only were you upset about the wedding and being forced into a new place, but now he had feelings for you while he was devoted to someone else and you were supposed to be to another. 

“Hey,” Jessica had whispered to him, “where were you, you're usually in bed by now I was just coming to look for you.” 

Shit. That could've gone badly. The idea popped into his mind. Jessica walking in on him with you. He doesn’t think Jessica would've taken it well. While she was only his concubine, they still held a deep and intimate connection. 

“Sorry,” he scrubbed his hand down his face, trying to rub his brain off the busy thoughts, “I was just working a little late, and lost track of time.” 

God, if that wasn't the most cliche line. She sweetly smiled at him, making the guilt in his stomach sink even lower, “you work too hard sometimes you know that?” she stated as she beckoned him over to the bed. 

If only that were the issue right now. 

Leto settled into bed that night with Jessica, but her presence, since the first time he met her, did not calm him like it usually did. And as he drifted off to sleep, he saw you in his mind. Your bare form beneath him, sprawled on the silk sheets, soft and wanting. 

_________

The day of the wedding had arrived and the duke was indifferent. His son had spent the morning with him and seemed excited about the wedding. It seemed that every time his feelings for you grew, so did the guilt as well. 

“I know that I was hesitant about this at first father but, I’m starting to see this is for the best, I know I hardly know her but I really do like her, and this way when i am to start ruling like you I’ll have someone else who prides themselves on doing what's best for their people, not someone who is after my power.” Paul had said to him. 

“I’m glad you see it that way, I was afraid that even though I let you choose, you might decide that I didn't really give you a choice and you might resent me for that.” 

Paul took a moment to think, they were sitting in his room Paul sitting on the end of his bed, Leto in a chair across from it, waiting for the tailor to arrive for Paul. It was the only moment that would probably get alone with each other for a while. 

“You know I talked to her, and I can’t help but feel bad. She didn’t have a choice in this as I did, and even though she’s willingly doing this now and doesn’t seem to have any ill-will intentions toward me, it makes me pity her for that.” 

That's where he and his son seemed to differ. He didn't pity you, he understood you, even though he and Jessica got along well, it wasn’t a choice for him, it was forced upon him by people in higher positions, and that had always irritated him, he never had a say in the matter. If it weren't due to the fact of his older age, he was sure it wouldn’t have been a choice but for you to marry him instead. But this way after his son took over, the alliance would last for a longer period of time. 

Just as Leto began to open his mouth and speak advice to his son on you, the door to his room opened and the tailor, along with a few others came flooding in. Paul, now having his attention diverted, and Leto not wanting to talk about private matters in front of people who could spread ill word about the three of you, slipped away to start getting read in his own room. 

Leto had been to many prestige events, he didn’t need a tailor and help to get ready, while he was way away, a servant had laid out his dress uniform on his bed for him and that was enough. He hated the attention anyways. Being alone while getting ready allowed him to decompress his thoughts and prepare for the upcoming blizzard of people. 

That was until the door had cracked open and you came rushing in. his heart had melted the moment he has seen you. That look in your eyes was all too familiar. It had been the same look in his own eyes when his father had given him the ultimatum of being the Duke. 

Yet somehow you still looked absolutely stunning in your gown, even with the forlorn look your face wore. Once again his affection for you grew as his heart sunk and sunk at the same time, and then. Then, Idaho walked in. 

While this didn't worry Leto as much as it should have, he knew Idaho would always be loyal to him over anything, he couldn’t help but come to a realization that this was now solidified as a scandal if it were to breach further into other people's knowledge. 

That fact hung over his head while he stood beside his son and watched him vow to be your loyal husband, and to stand by you. His face remained expressionless as you did the same, it stayed this way when the two of your placed rings onto each other's fingers, the same when your eyes swiftly shifted to him as the officiant stated for the two of you to kiss. It was so swift it went unnoticed by everyone but him. And then when you and Paul had finally softy met, through hesitance and tension the whole room could probably feel, his face still remained the same. 

It was something that he had been trained to do through his years serving as a Duke. Without this skill, he's sure his internal thoughts would provoke many wars. He's sure that if he wore his thoughts on his face during these moments, the same would happen. 

His composure stood strong for the majority of the night. Only slightly internally cracking when he spared a glance in your direction. You had looked just as much, if not more miserable than you had when you came to visit him earlier that day. The deed was done and over and maybe it was shock written on your face from the fact that this had still happened, maybe it was the fact that today was supposed to be about the marriage of you and Paul, and yet the room read as only a celebration of alliances, but you look genuinely distraught. 

The more he looked at you through the night, the more he thought about how truly unhappy you seemed. It wasn’t fair. This led him to the idea that probably wasn’t the best decision he has ever made. As he swept you across the floor as the two of you danced, he decided he would play it off as being a host if anyone were to draw suspicions of the two of you. 

That night everyone was busy. Guests were heading home, opting to travel than spend the night. Maids and servants were left to clean and Lady Jessica had gone off somewhere to converse with other members of the Bene Gesserit. This left Leto alone and to his own devices. 

While he undresses from his robes he considered going to your room to find you, he figured you would need some sort of comfort after the day and he was sure you wouldn’t be with Paul. though it was traditional to consummate the marriage on the first night, the both of you were very timid and he figured Paul would have offered you the chance to decline, especially given the conversation between the two earlier in which he recalls Paul pitying you. 

That's why for the first time this night, when he knocked on his son’s door, opting to stop by his room first and finish the conversation they had started earlier that day, his face finally gave way to his emotions when the person who opened the door was you.

------------------------------------------

A/N: Sorry this is long overdue and also a little shorter than the rest.

[atlabeth]

(not so) simple pt2 - anthony bridgerton

masterlist

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn't.

a/n: okayyy attempt no2 in trying to get this thing to show up in tags lol. i worked way too hard on this for it to just be invisible and idk what word i used that tumblr doesnt like but im gonna try again lmao (thank u naomi for the advice)

im gonna keep the other one for now so there's just gonna be two versions of this floating around for a lil lol. hopefully this works

wc: 7.1k

warning(s): historical inaccuracies, basically all fluff

Anthony had a surprising pep in his step as he returned to his estate. Promenading around the marketplace with you was… nice. He had to admit it. The reticule he’d selected for you went perfectly with your dress—another thing he had to admit, you looked quite lovely in blue. 

He blinked a few times. This ruse was already getting to his head.  

But as nice as the promenade was, it was certainly not in his schedule, and so once he passed through into his estate with nods of greeting to the doormen, he had the intent of heading straight to his office. He was not given the chance, though, when he saw his mother coming down the stairs. Anthony had the briefest thought of avoiding her, but only one look at her showed that he would not get the chance even if he wanted it. 

“You were gone quite early today, Anthony,” she said with a slight smile, folding her hands in front of her as she stopped in front of him. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with Miss Worthing.” 

“And if it does?” he asked offhandedly. 

“Then I am very proud of you,” Violet said. “If Miss Y/N will make you happy, then I see no reason for you not to pursue her. She is a lovely lady with an amiable family—it is all the better that we are already good friends.”

Anthony hummed in acknowledgment. He almost wished his mother did not approve of you so — he did not know if he would have the heart to explain to her the reality of their situation once the two of you parted ways. 

“Is there anything else you would like to tell me?” she asked, and though her tone was pointedly innocent, Anthony was well aware she wanted to fish for anything she could find. 

“We enjoyed a lovely promenade this morning,” Anthony said, “that is all. And as much as I am enjoying this interrogation, there is work I must attend to.”

She gave him a knowing smile as she bowed her head. “Of course, dearest. Enjoy the rest of your morning. Just do not forget to break your fast.” 

He nodded back at her politely before he continued on to his office. When he opened the door, though, he nearly jumped out of his skin. 

“Anthony!” Eloise popped up from her seat—her smile was inviting, but all the years of living with her had taught Anthony that, in the case of his dearest sister, appearances were often deceiving. 

“Eloise,” he said stiffly, trying to hide his obvious shock at his sister’s appearance to avoid any teasing as he walked behind his desk, gathering some papers and stacking them just to give his hands something to do, “may I ask what you are doing in here?” 

“You may,” she said as she placed her hands on the top of the chair, “but only if I am allowed to ask a question of my own.” 

“Do I even want to know?” he asked dryly. 

She did not give him the opportunity to back out. “I am here because you have decided to court my best friend. Which leads into my question—why, for the love of all that is good, have you decided to court my best friend?” 

Anthony laughed and shook his head. “So that is what this is about? I am courting Miss Worthing because I am a man in need of a wife and she is a woman in need of a husband. Is that simple enough for you?” 

Eloise shook her head. “Explain to me, brother, in true form, why you have decided to take away my best friend in quite possibly the worst way.” 

Anthony frowned. “I do not see how I have taken her away from you.” 

“You are courting her!” she exclaimed, “you are to marry her! Anthony, you are going to marry my best friend! That is the most horrid thing I have ever heard of!” 

“I am not forcing her into a marriage, Eloise,” Anthony said. “Have you considered that she is the one that approached me in the first place?” 

Eloise scoffed. “She would never do such an ill minded thing. And frankly, I cannot see why you would engage in activity like this, with her of all women! Not even a day earlier we were airing our frustrations at the very concept of marriage, all the while you could not cease your ranting of her apparent misgivings, and now you are not only courting her, but she is allowing you to do so willingly?” She threw up her hands in disbelief. “It is unforeseeable!” 

“Unfor— unforeseeable?” Anthony could not help but laugh at his sister’s dramatics. “Eloise, is my courting of Miss Worthing truly that strange? She is the sole child of one of the ton’s poorer families, and she is rapidly approaching spinster age. Perhaps she has finally realized her views will not help her family and this is her attempt to make amends before it is too late.” 

Eloise shook her head as she finally sat down. “You do not know Y/N like I do, dearest brother. We were due to meet for a promenade of our own tomorrow, but if she is so capable of providing you with one, then I assume she is more than willing to indulge my presence this morning instead.” 

“Eloise—” Anthony started, and she looked at him with raised brows as he rapidly stood up from his desk, nearly poised to lunge over the thing. 

“Such athletics,” she remarked, and he huffed. 

Anthony walked around his desk to the door and glanced outside to ensure their privacy, and then he shut it behind him. Though all of their employees were loyal and trustworthy, he was well aware of what insidious gossips some of the staff could be when they had something good enough in their hands. “If I am to inform you of… further knowledge, you must promise not to speak a word of it to anyone.” 

Eloise could barely manage to hide her excitement. “So there is something you are not telling me!” 

He sighed deeply and pressed a hand to his forehead. “It is not… a true courtship, in a matter of words. She wanted to avoid a betrothal to Lord Cardew, and so she approached me that night and all but begged me to act as her courter. I agreed, and we are now each other’s fake partners for our own benefit. We both get to dodge any suitors that may come our way, and we will part from each other at the end of the season as spinster and rake alike.”

Her eyes widened. “You must be joking.”

Anthony shook his head. “Regretfully, I am not. What possessed me to accept her offer the other night I am not quite sure, but regardless of it all, we are bound to each other for the length of the season.”

“But it is nothing more than a scheme,” she said, “right?” 

“Yes,” he assured. “There is nothing between us, and we are certainly not to be wed. You need not worry.” 

Eloise sighed. “Anthony Bridgerton, I do not think I will ever understand what goes on in your mind.”

He offered a thin smile. “Nor I, sister. But now that you know something with quite a bit of weight—”

“I will not repeat a word,” she confirmed with a nod. “You needn’t worry. But, ah—” Eloise gave him a coy smile— “you will need to worry about nearly every other thing. We are such close friends for a reason.”

Anthony simply sighed. “You are truly skilled at lifting spirits.”

“I know,” she said happily. 

And as Eloise turned to leave, she stopped by the door, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “You know, brother—I think I will enjoy this season after all.”

Anthony sat back down as he rubbed his hand against his forehead, heaving another labored sigh. It was hardly even past the time to break his fast and he was already exhausted. 

When even Eloise was on board with this horrible idea solely for her own enjoyment of a surely sinking ship, he knew he was certainly in for something.

-

You did not think you would ever truly get used to this.

You may have despised the season, the ton, and everything it stood for, but that did not mean you were immune to marveling at the riches of your peers. The Kennington estate was far grander than you could have ever imagined, and though you despised it, you could not help the streak of jealousy that ran through you at the sight — perhaps if your family were blessed with riches of this sort, you would not be depended on so heavily to find a husband. 

Nevertheless, you were expected to be at the ball, which Lady Kennington had decreed an event that absolutely could not be missed. After her daughter had been chosen as the season’s diamond by word of the queen, she had gained a bit of an ego. It was no surprise, then, that the party was something so extravagant. 

When you arrived, men and women were twirling across the dance floor together, their movements fluid as water. Musicians sat together off to the side, stringed instruments played in perfect harmony, and of course, in the midst of it all, members of the ton stood, watching and gossiping. 

You inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, trying not to let your nerves get the best of you before anything had even taken place. With the exuberance of it all, it was difficult not to be overwhelmed, but knowing you had the protection of Anthony’s courtship eased your worries the slightest bit. While an overly pushy suitor may not have listened to you, they would certainly listen to the Viscount Bridgerton. 

It was as if the universe were capable of reading your mind—the moment you thought of Anthony, your mother was leaning to whisper in your ear. 

“The Viscount and Lady Bridgerton are coming this way,” she murmured. “Please, do not act out in front of your future mother-in-law.” 

“Mother-in-law—!” you began to protest, but you were unable to get any more out as a wide smile took over your mother’s features, and she jabbed you lightly with her shoulder to force your posture to straighten. 

“Lady Bridgerton!” she exclaimed as they stopped in front of the two of you—Anthony bowed as a courtesy, and it was an effort to hide your amusement. “Viscount Bridgerton! How wonderful it is to see the two of you. Violet, you look just as lovely as ever.” 

“You are too kind,” Violet said with a smile. “It is just as good to see you as well, Cecilia. And my dear,” she looked to you, “you are a sure sight to see! I can hardly believe you’ve debuted—it seemed only yesterday you and Eloise were playing together in the drawing room.” 

You smiled at the memory. Conversation with the Bridgertons had always been pleasant—your ruse did not need to change that. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. I admit that I certainly miss those days, before all the responsibilities of a debut. Though I cannot say that my visits with Eloise will cease anytime soon.” 

“And I do not expect them to—we enjoy your company far too much.” Violet then chuckled. “I allowed her to stay at home with the promise that she practice the pianoforte during the evening. Tell me, do I have a chance at all of her listening to my request, or will I return to the estate to see her reading in the same position I left her?” 

You grinned. “I am certain you know the answer to that, Lady Bridgerton.” 

“Oh, please,” she brushed off your words with a wave of her hand, “there is no need for titles. Violet will be just fine—you are to be a part of our family soon anyway, if what I hear from my son is true.” 

Anthony’s eyes widened, his cheeks flushing red. How amusing that a simple sentence could revert him back to a blushing young man. “Mother!” 

Of course, you could not poke fun at the viscount in any way—you were sure you looked similar, what with the way you felt the heat rush to your cheeks and your eyes widen as well. Your words came out in a stammer: “I— well, I—” 

“Oh, you needn’t be so coy,” your mother teased. “A gentleman would certainly be nervous around the lady he is courting, especially one so beautiful as my daughter.” 

Anthony cleared his throat as he offered you a smile of his own, trying his best to recover from the embarrassment. “Yes, Miss Worthing. You are the image of perfection tonight in that shade of pink.” 

You could not even imagine putting up with these compliments for the rest of the season—it was far better than dealing with real advances from real suitors, of course, but you did not know if you would be able to stifle your laughter every time Anthony had to flirt with you in the presence of your mothers. 

“Thank you, my lord.” You bowed your head slightly in place of a curtsy. “You look quite… spiffing yourself.” 

The way Anthony was barely able to hide the mirth in his expression, you knew he was amused by your choice of words. If he made fun of you for it, you would blame it on your mothers. Your act did have to be convincing. 

You were just able to catch Violet’s pointed glance at her son before Anthony stepped forward and offered his hand. “I’d be honored to have your first dance of the night, my lady, if you would so indulge me.”

You did not have to look at your mother to know she was doing the same to you—you decided to save her the pain as you offered a practiced smile and took Anthony’s hand. “It would be a pleasure, my lord.” 

You entered the dance floor at the perfect time, just when the musicians were beginning a new song, and you took your place across from Anthony. You did not even need to ask what was on his mind as you began your side of the dance, the mirth in his expression telling you all you needed to know.  

“I’m not talking because I am focusing on my steps,” you muttered. “I am not as skilled at dancing as I am at many other things.” 

His lips quirked up at the edges. “So you mean to say you are better at irritating me than dancing with me?” 

The laugh that bubbled out of you caused you to miss one of your steps, but luckily it was at the exact moment you joined hands—Anthony covered for you with ease as you stumbled into him, a glaring reminder of just how much he knew in comparison to you as a result of his title and position.

“Thank you,” you said. “I suppose I am not capable of multitasking while on the dance floor.” 

Anthony hummed. “I can tell by the deathly grip you have on my hands.”  

You loosened your hold on Anthony as you continued to dance, offering an apologetic smile. “I apologize. This waltz is not my favorite, nor is it my forte. Most dances, truthfully, are not my forte.” 

“I am more surprised by the fact you have a favorite dance,” Anthony said, his own smile slightly cockeyed. “Though I should think more of our appearances together should be on the dance floor—you are much less mouthy. I already feel more confident without your constant insults.” 

You huffed a laugh. “That is because this is nowhere close to my environment. I am comfortable surrounded by books, or arguing with irritating viscounts. I am not comfortable dancing in front of a crowd this large with the man they all think I am to marry.” 

“Ah,” Anthony chuckled. “It is strange, isn’t it? That everyone thinks we will end the season as happily married, and though we are lying to each and every member of the ton, not a single one knows it.”

“Indeed. I truly do not know how you have handled the attention all these years, as a viscount and a Bridgerton. I have been associated with you for hardly a week and I am already tired of it all. If it were not for an even less desirable fate awaiting me without your status protecting me, I would have surely run off to the country by now. Perhaps not even the country—an entirely new country sounds marvelous.” 

Anthony raised his eyebrows. “Those are certainly not words befitting a future viscountess. Running away from responsibility is something more suited to a second child—perhaps you should’ve taken this journey with Benedict instead.” 

You gave him a sideways smile. “My words do not have to be those of a future viscountess, not when it is just you and me. I suppose that is a benefit of this arrangement.” You tilted your head to the side slightly. “I do think I would enjoy Benedict’s company better, though. He is a joy to be around, and I just love hearing about his artistic endeavors.” 

His lips quirked up. “You may indeed be a better pair, then—he certainly needs someone that will listen to him talk about his latest works without complaint, and he irritates me just as much as you do.” 

“Impossible,” you stated. “No one can irritate you as much as I do.” 

“And for taking the burden of that role, I am eternally grateful,” Anthony said with mock austerity. 

“Of course,” you nodded. “Know that I am truly here for you.” 

Anthony could not help but laugh at that, and you smiled inwardly as the dance ended and the two of you bowed to each other. 

“That was rather pleasant,” he said, “was it not?” 

“I’ve yet to experience a better one,” you said, and Anthony simply smiled. 

“I await the day when you no longer use sarcasm in our every conversation.” 

“You will be waiting a very long time, then, my lord.” 

You looped your arm around Anthony’s, a gesture that was already becoming familiar, and began to walk off the floor together. 

“I do hope my mother will get over the allure of our pairing soon, though,” you said. “She brings you up in nearly every conversation—our parting argument will have to be convincing indeed, otherwise I fear we may entirely break her heart.” 

Anthony chuckled. “I will certainly do my best to prevent that. Though I understand part of your plight. My siblings have not stopped bothering me since they got their hands on the latest edition of Whistledown. Eloise in particular is not a fan of us together.” 

“Eloise,” you muttered. “I completely forgot to tell her of our plan.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “You were going to tell her a secret that could ruin the both of us?” 

“Oh, please,” you admonished. “We both know it would only ruin me. Besides—Eloise already knows nearly everything about me; news of a true courtship between us would be far more shocking to her than this ruse of ours.”

“You are correct,” Anthony said with a slight laugh. “She cornered me in my office when I returned after our promenade the other day and practically demanded I explain myself — but rest assured, she is informed of the truth and is sworn to secrecy.” 

You smiled. “That sounds like her, alright. I did not expect her to reveal it in the first place, but it is good to know I have a confidante. In case I need to complain of you, of course.” 

“Oh,” Anthony nodded. “Of course. I shall go to her as well if I am in need of the same. She will most certainly not get annoyed at either of us.” 

You laughed. “I fear that if we resort to her as our sole alleviant she will most certainly reveal our secret.” 

“Eloise doing something out of pure annoyance? I do not doubt it.” 

You snickered at that, but then Anthony lightly touched your shoulder and gestured with his head towards the other side of the ballroom. 

“I should let you go,” Anthony said. “I believe your mother has some things she wishes to say to you.” 

You sighed. “I can only imagine just what she has to say. But it looks as if your mother has the same thing in mind.” 

He looked over and sighed, though it was not without a slight smile. “Then I shall see you tomorrow?” he asked. 

“Tomorrow?” You pretended to think over it. “That seems far too soon, my lord. I am in need of my rest, both to handle you and maintain this image.” 

“I suppose I am in need of a break as well,” Anthony said, “as I have to handle you just as much as you I.” 

“We are certainly a troublesome couple,” you said with mock austerity. “It would be no surprise if our courtship were to dissolve completely just before the end of the season.” 

Anthony nodded seriously. “It would not be a surprise at all. It would be for the best, truly.” 

“The best,” you agreed. 

The two of you shared smiles, the sort that only those with secrets could indulge in, and then you parted ways to your respective matriarchs. 

And as you walked back over to your mother, your head held higher than usual and an unmistakable confidence in your step, Anthony could not tear his eyes away—could not help but smile. 

“Dare I say this is the most I’ve seen you smile at a ball?”

Anthony turned to see Benedict approaching, a glass of wine that was far too full clutched in one hand. By the dazed grin on his lips and a look in his eye that showed he wasn’t all the way there, it wasn’t too hard to tell that his younger brother was already quite far gone—that must’ve been why he showed up on his own, rather than leaving with him and their mother. Certainly for the best, as Violet did not exactly need to see her son getting drunk. 

“Dare I say this is the earliest I’ve seen you drink at a ball?” Anthony answered in turn. 

“Of course it’s not—I’ve indulged even before arriving on certain occasions. It was the only way I was able to get through half of Daphne’s season.” Benedict’s eyes twinkled as he took a sip from his glass. “It made it far more enjoyable. I would suggest that you try it sometime, but it seems that you are already enjoying the night quite a bit.” 

Anthony glanced behind him to see you talking with your mother—or rather, her talking to you, he noted with a slight smile—before looking back at his brother. “I suppose I am having a rather decent time.” 

“Far more than decent,” Benedict insisted. “I would even go as far as to say that you actually like Miss Worthing’s company.” 

Anthony chuckled a bit. His acting must have been good, to fool even his brother. Though, to be fair, Benedict would not expect him to do something of this sort—honestly, this was more in his territory. Perhaps he was not wrong about telling you his brother would be a better option. 

He felt a strange twist in his chest at the thought, but pushed it away just as quickly. 

“She is a lovely lady,” he agreed, “and she will make a fine wife.”

Benedict laughed. “Coming from you, brother, that is a declaration of love. My most sincere congratulations to you—you deserve this more than anyone.” 

Anthony offered a small smile as his brother patted him on the shoulder and began to walk off, and he called after him: “Do not do anything too stupid, Ben!” 

He held up his wine glass in response, not turning to look back at him, and Anthony just shook his head, though not without mirth. 

His brother was right about one thing, though. You were the reason he did not have such a terrible night. 

-

“Hyacinth, stop teasing your brother. Benedict, straighten your cravat. And Colin, dear, please do not bore the Worthings with talk of your travels. They have heard them a thousand times, and a good image is imperative.” 

“Mother,” Colin said with a frown, “you always say you enjoy my stories.” 

“And I do, each and every time,” Violet said with a motherly smile, “but now is not the time to tell them of your exploits for the hundredth time.” 

“But we are already good friends with the Worthings,” Gregory said, “and we have had dinner with them so many times. Why do we need to make a good impression?” 

“Because this dinner is the most important,” Violet said. “Anthony is courting Y/N, and though it should move ahead very smoothly, we need to ensure that you all make a good impression. We will be one family soon enough.” 

“Y/N is to be our sister?” Hyacinth exclaimed. “Oh, that is so amazing! I read it in Lady Whistledown, but I am overjoyed it is actually true!”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “I still cannot believe this is happening. My brother courting my best friend—a true nightmare, perhaps.” 

“Eloise,” Violet admonished, “this is a good thing. Be happy for your brother, at least when you are around him.” 

She then looked around the room and sighed. “Where is Anthony, anyways?” 

“He went to fetch the Worthings,” Benedict supplied. “To ensure that things would go smoothly from the start, show off his effortless gentleman act, and charm her parents all over again—everything of his usual sort.” 

“And likely to do things in private with his bride-to-be,” Colin said, earning a snort from Benedict and a glare from his mother. 

“Colin Bridgerton, do not say things like that. Especially in front of your siblings.” 

“My apologies,” he said, holding his hands up in defense, though he could not help but crack a smile, “but it is likely true.” 

It was then that the door was opened by one of the servants—your parents walked through and you and Anthony followed behind them, both you and your mother holding onto your respective beau’s arms. 

“Oh, good!” Violet exclaimed, and she gave her children one last gesture with her head to silently ensure they would behave. “You’re just in time—Cecilia, Philip, it is so good to see the two of you. And Y/N, you look lovely tonight. Your dress is simply sublime.”

“You are far too kind,” you said with a smile, bowing your head in lieu of a curtsy. 

“It’s just as good to see you, Violet,” your mother said. 

Your father nodded. “We were honored to receive the invitation. It has been far too long since the Worthings and Bridgertons dined together.” 

“It certainly has,” Violet agreed. “I’m sure we are all hoping it will become a more frequent affair.” 

You could not return Anthony’s knowing gaze as he led you around the table, pulling out your chair for you before he took his seat next to you. Your parents took their own seats next to Violet’s head of the table, and you busied yourself adjusting the edge of the tablecloth, unable to even look at Anthony beside you. 

“I apologize, Mother, for the delay,” he said. “Our conversation ended up lasting longer than I expected.” 

Violet smiled and brushed it aside. “Think nothing of it, dear. You are right on time.” 

Anthony spoke the truth, though it was wholly simplified—you could not even look him in the eye after all your mother had said. You did not ever plan on him knowing so many details of your childhood, but you ended up not having a choice in the matter. 

He had come to charm your parents and escort the three of you to his estate—it was overboard for a normal suitor, but not for one that was purposefully trying to annoy you as well as completely earn the favor of your family. And it was certainly not overboard for a Bridgerton. 

When Anthony arrived, his plan was to meet your parents, converse for a bit to get them fully on his side, and then your mother would fetch you and they would all be on their way. Instead, the moment he listened to your mother and sat down with her in the drawing room, she launched into an entire spiel, solely of you. Honestly, you were thankful you weren’t there, as you do not think you could have handled the embarrassment. Anthony, though, enjoyed it far more than he should have. He also had far more ammunition than he deserved, some of which he had already used against you in whispered conversations on the way here.

(You had already made a plan to get back at him, of course. The next time you were with Eloise in private, you were going to ask her for every single piece of information about her brother, even the most undignified shred. You were certain she would go along with it, and happily so.) 

“Are you really going to marry our brother?” Gregory suddenly asked, and along with your eyes widening you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. You thought you were getting used to the idea of this whole thing, but as of now, it seemed you were doomed to the embarrassment each time someone brought up the marriage aspect. 

“Not just marry our brother, Gregory,” Hyacinth said, “she will be our sister!” Her attention turned to you, all bright energy, and you could not help but smile the slightest bit. “I cannot wait, Y/N, truly! You must teach me to play the violin once you’re wed, please.” 

“Sister-in-law,” Anthony corrected hastily, and you noticed his throat bobbing after a quick glance at you, “she will be your sister-in-law. And she will have other matters to attend to over teaching you to play instruments—if you wish to learn violin, I’m sure we can get you a teacher.” 

“Do not be like that, Anthony,” Violet admonished, and she smiled at her daughter. “I’m sure that there will be plenty of time for you to learn things with Miss Worthing. That is,” she glanced over at you, “if she is alright with that.” 

“Of course,” you nodded immediately. “I do not think myself the best teacher, but I would love to help you wherever I could. And please,” you smiled, “if I am to call you Violet, you must call me Y/N. Formalities are certainly not needed there.” 

“What instruments do you know, Y/N?” Colin spoke up. 

“I am most skilled at the violin,” you said, and when you looked at your mother she smiled, “but it is only through countless hours of work. Mother can tell you just how much of a disaster I was at the beginning.” 

“Oh, do not say that,” your mother said, brushing it off with an offhanded gesture. “No one is an expert at the beginning—I dare say you picked it up quite fast. Is that not right, Philip?”

“Hm?” Your father’s attention was brought back by your mother saying his name, and he blinked a couple times before he looked at you. “Ah, yes. Yes, she did. Our daughter is very talented.” 

You stifled a laugh at that. Whereas your mother was involved in your life at every twist and turn, your father was more focused on the family finances and keeping the Worthings afloat. It was an important job and you were ever grateful for it, but it left him with neither time nor energy to focus on much else. 

(You also did not think he cared much for high society anyway—he wanted you to marry in order to secure your lineage as well as garner the protection that a good marriage would bring you, which explained his offer to Lord Cardew, but otherwise, he was hardly involved.) 

“What else?” Gregory asked.

“Other than violin, I also know how to play the pianoforte quite well,” you said. “Beyond that is the cello and the viola, though my viola skills certainly need work.” 

“Amazing,” Hyacinth breathed, and she looked at Violet. “Mother, you must let me learn more instruments! I'm growing a bit tired of the pianoforte."

“Because the pianoforte is boring,” Eloise contributed. “After listening to Daphne play it nonstop all those years trying to perfect it while she prepared for her debut, I can hardly stand the sound of it anymore.” 

“Are you saying you do not wish to bear audience to my impromptu concerts anymore?” you asked, your scandalized tone a mockery. 

“I am afraid so,” Eloise said, her austere words a joke as well. “I can no longer handle the noise of those wretched keys—it makes me want to plunge my knitting needles into my eyes.” 

“Eloise!” Violet interrupted. “Do not say things like that!” 

“Apologies, Mother,” she said, but the secret smile the two of you shared was hardly enough to stifle your combined laughter. 

Benedict set down his wine glass and looked at you. “I must ask,” he said, and his slight smile set you at ease, “how have you and our dearest Anthony been getting along? You must be doing something right, as I can certainly attest that he has become more pleasant to be around since he began courting you. I must thank you for that, of course.” 

Your smile grew as you looked over at Anthony next to you, and though he was trying to hide any sign of emotion behind the brim of his glass, you could tell that he was not as unaffected as he wanted you to believe. “Is that true?” you asked. 

“Oh, certainly,” Colin spoke up. “The other day, we were having a family picnic in the park—Eloise stole a biscuit from him, and he did not even get annoyed. I believe it was the day after your dance at the Kennington’s ball. There has to be a connection there, right?” 

“He was in a good mood there!” Benedict agreed, and he looked at you again. “Oh, after you separated, Anthony could not stop smiling. Y/N, I think he has smiled more than ever in the weeks he has been courting you.” 

“Well,” you said, smiling yourself as you turned to Anthony, “I am glad to have been a source of happiness for you as of late.” 

“Yes,” Anthony said, and he smiled as well. He looked to be doubling down in this, determined to not let you win in your little game. It was a shame, truly. “I am very thankful for your presence, Y/N; I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every moment together. You’ve been a—no, the light of my life. I’m not a poet in any sense of the word, so forgive me for being blunt, but I cannot wait to marry you.” 

“Colin,” Eloise said, speaking up suddenly, and you were thankful for it as it took all of your strength to tamp down on your laughter, “weren’t you telling me earlier about how beautiful the mountains were during your visit to Greece?” 

“Oh, they are amazing,” Colin said, and you could hear Violet sigh as a waterfall of information began to pour out of him. You assumed Eloise wanted just as much, as she gave you a very pointed look from across the table. You just smiled at her. 

You looked at Anthony next to you as the conversation carried on without you, mouthing “very nice” with serious eyes. He responded by rolling his own, though unable to fully conceal his smile. 

Friends, you surmised. It appeared the two of you were actually becoming friends. 

-

“The light of your life?” you exclaimed, raucous laughter emerging after it. “Oh, Anthony—you are certainly becoming creative.” 

He let out a small laugh as well, shaking his head some. “Can you blame me? Benedict and Colin seemed intent on embarrassing us completely, in front of your parents as well! I had no choice but to either give in to their teasing or double down on our love. And of course, I could not let my brothers get the better of us.” 

The two of you had escaped to the outdoors once your dinner together was over—your parents had to retire for the night, your father claiming he had important business matters to attend to early the next morning and your mother citing plain old exhaustion. You requested a promenade with Anthony, purely so you could discuss everything that had gone on between the two of you, and they agreed with the promise that Anthony accompany you on the carriage ride home. You were meant to have a chaperone as well, but either by accident or purpose you ended up alone. Now, you walked throughout the greenery of the Bridgerton estate, barely able to get through your words without laughter alongside it. 

“Of course,” you said sagely, “it was certainly a strategic move, complimenting me so. I don’t know what to do with myself, knowing that you actually don’t hate me.” 

“I should be the one with that reaction,” Anthony said. “Whatever am I to do without your endless jabs at me? I may actually gain some confidence.” 

“Oh,” you shook your head, “do not worry, my lord. I will always be able to humble you, even after we are married. It is one of my many talents; surely, you are aware.” 

“Certainly so,” he said, but then he sighed. “The longer we go on with this, though, the more guilt I feel. The advantage of not having to deal with countless daughters is quite nice, and I’m thankful you get to avoid that lecher of a man. But,” Anthony shook his head, “seeing how my siblings reacted, I cannot help but feel bad for them.” 

You bit your lip and nodded. “Hyacinth was overjoyed about it. The excitement in her eyes when she talked about my becoming her sister, and learning the violin…” You chuckled. “It is almost enough to make me want to go through with this in reality.” 

“I know how you feel,” Anthony said dryly. “A marriage borne out of Hyacinth-induced guilt is certainly not out of her power.” 

“Can you imagine when the reverend asks us for our vows?” you laughed as you straightened your posture and grabbed his hands, exaggerating your voice. “Anthony Bridgerton, I do not love you, but I do love your sister. I could not stand to see the sadness in her eyes if we do not go through with this, therefore I will marry you.” 

He laughed again at that, and he squeezed your hands before he pulled away. “Be careful with what you say, my lady. You may not know this as an only child, but the magic that a younger sister holds is a mysterious one indeed. She has gotten her way many a time in this family purely by doing just that.” 

“I do not doubt it,” you nodded. It was then that the two of you walked past a pair of swings, hung by ropes tied to a tree. You tugged at one of the ropes and looked at Anthony. “What are these here for?” 

He smiled a bit. “My father and I built them together when I was younger—I couldn’t have been any more than ten. He had the idea to make them for us—not just me and the three other siblings that were there, but the future children that they planned to have. My father decided to make it himself rather than outsource the work to a carpenter or a servant, and I begged him to let me help. He let me, and even though all I did was walk around rope and tie knots, I had the most brilliant time.” 

Anthony walked over and picked up a knot, one tied in the middle of the rope. “This is the first one I made. It’s completely useless, and honestly, it would have been better if Father just took it out, but he kept it there; he just worked around it when he had to string it all up. It looks like nothing—truthfully, it looks like a mistake, but it’s… it’s a priceless reminder of him. I’m thankful he left it.” 

“That’s beautiful, Anthony,” you murmured. A moment of hesitation passed before you slowly reached out and, before you could doubt yourself, placed your hand over his as gently as you could. There was a moment of surprise, visible from the slightest flinch to his widened eyes as he looked at you, but it faded just as quickly, replaced by a feeling you couldn’t describe. 

“It’s a part of him,” you said softly. “Proof of the time you spent together—proof that he was here, that he was with you, that he loved you. That he will always love you, even if he is no longer here. You are a part of that too, Anthony—do you realize? He lives on in you, in the way that you love and take care of your siblings.” 

Anthony swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing as he looked at you. His gaze was the softest thing you’d experienced, the warmth of his hand enveloping yours as he turned his over to squeeze your hand. It felt like the world around you had stopped as you looked into each other’s eyes, your breath hitching in your chest both at the feeling of his hand on yours and the proximity that had gotten closer without you even realizing. It must have struck Anthony suddenly, because his eyes widened slightly and he pulled away, taking a few steps in the opposite direction. 

The air returned to you as you put on your own distance, your eyes widening the same way as you realized what had just happened. 

What had just happened? 

“It is getting late,” he said hastily, “we should get you back to your estate.” 

“Of course,” you agreed, nodding far too many times. “My mother is likely worried.” 

“Of course,” he repeated, and Anthony cleared his throat before he looked at you. “I will send for a maid to accompany you when we get back to the house instead. We should—” he cleared his throat again, “I have things I need to attend to, unfortunately. Finances to go through, papers to sign.” 

You nodded yet again. “That is for the best. That— that is smart.” 

This time, it was his turn to nod. “Yes, of course.” 

The silence hung in the air between the two of you for one long, charged moment, before you spoke. 

“We should go.” 

“Yes!” Anthony said, and before you turned to start walking you were able to see his frown, his thoroughly vexed expression. You felt the exact same way. 

And as you walked back to the Bridgerton estate, the space naturally occurring between the two of you despite the strange atmosphere that had been created, the thought once again popped into your mind. 

What had just happened? 

-

sorry for tagging again but thats the way it is. i hope this works lol

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator 

bridgerton tags: @theonewithallthemilkshakes @rach2602 @milkiane @korol-lantsov

anthony bridgerton tags: @gwenebear @lurkymurker @likeballet

not so simple tags: @ifilwtmfc @readers-posts @fangirling-galore @funkydinosaurs @baby-i-am-fireproof @mess-is-my-aesthetic @likeballet @mdkfh @brezzybfan 

[eddies-perm]

𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧?

𝘮𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤!𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

I am not a mechanic in any way, so I kind of just made up details as I went lmao. sorry for any inaccuracies. 

warnings. smut!!, established relationship, semi-public sex, dom!eddie my beloved, spanking, dirty talk, fingering, some praise, P in V, barebacking, creampie, no use of y/n.

word count: 1.9k

** you’re having car troubles yet again, so you take your car to the best auto shop in town. it’s a simple fix, so simple that eddie decides it’s time for you to learn. but now you’re bent over the hood of the car and damn your ass looks good today... **

“Again?”

Your cheeks warm as you walk into the body shop. “Yeah...sorry. That noise is back.”

A cloud of smoke envelops Eddie as he takes a drag off his cigarette, sighing on the exhale.

“This is the third time in two weeks you’ve been here. Why won’t you just trade that hunk of junk in for something newer?”

“You know why. This was my mom’s car and I’m not ready to let her go yet.”

Eddie runs a hand through his sweaty hair, nodding. “Alright, alright. Pull it in and I’ll take a look.”

“Thanks, baby.” You smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

He grabs his tools and flashlight while you pull your car into the empty bay, bringing them over. By now, he knows your car inside and out, so he knows exactly what tools to grab.

“Mmkay, let’s see what’s going on,” he says, pushing the hood up. He looks around for the potential problem, cigarette clenched between his teeth. “Ah, I think I see what’s wrong.”

You look over his shoulder as he leans down and pulls at one of the valves. Your eyebrows furrow slightly when you don’t recognize the part he’s inspecting.

“What is it?”

“Your PCV valve is all messed up,” he says. “You’re lucky your engine didn’t catch fire, Jesus...this is one of the worst I’ve ever seen.”

“Is it reasonably easy to fix?” you ask, biting the inside of your lip. You hope it’s an easy fix, both for Eddie’s sake and your wallet’s sake.

He nods, crushing his cigarette out in an ashtray on top of the tool cart. “Yeah, it’s a quick fix.”

It’s then that he realizes you’re wearing one of his favorite dresses. His eyes linger over your figure for a moment, a small smirk tugging at his lips as a lightbulb goes off in his head.

“Even you could fix it...how about I teach you, hm?”

Your eyebrows raise. “What? You want me to fix my own car, wearing a sundress?”

“Why not? I can give you a shirt to change into if you want. It’s about time you learned this shit, it’ll save you lots of money. And save your old boyfriend some work.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. 

“Fine, teach me. But I’m not ruining my good dress.”

He jogs over to the office and rifles through the box, trying to find you a shirt. He does, but it’s a good three or four sizes too big for you. You can just wear it as a dress, he supposes. It’s not like anyone’s coming around here anytime soon anyway.

“Here,” he says, tossing you the shirt. “It’s the only one we have.”

You hold it up, eyes widening slightly. “You want me to wear this? It’s huge.”

“I don’t have anything else here, baby.”

Sighing, you head into the bathroom and change into the large shirt. It’s huge on you, buttons spanning down to just above your knees. You can’t believe you’re actually about to do this, fix your car wearing a fucking mechanic’s shirt as a dress.

When you come back out, Eddie tries not to stare but damn, you look even hotter than he thought. You left the first couple buttons undone, giving him just a peek of your cleavage.

And now, you’re gonna be bending over the hood of your car, reaching down, and that damn hem is probably gonna ride up to reveal your lacy--

“Looks fine,” he says. “It’s not as short as I thought it’d be.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this in an oversized uniform shirt.”

He smirks. “I’m the worst, I know.”

You lean over the hood and he steps up behind you and leans over you a bit, beginning to point and explain what to do. As he does this, he’s acutely aware that his pelvis is right against your ass. 

It happens naturally, really, his hips pressing forward against your perfect ass. He does it once, and then twice, and before long he’s fully grinding himself against you.

You can feel how hard he is and you smirk to yourself, trying to pay attention to what he’s saying but it’s kind of difficult to do that when he’s dry humping you. You say nothing, though, continuing to pretend to listen to what he’s saying.

By the end of it, Eddie’s not even sure if he’s making sense. He’s fully hard and all the blood has already rushed southward. 

“Alright, so...go ahead and start the repair.”

“What?” you ask, in a bit of a daze over his repeated rutting. “Oh right, the repair.” Shit. You totally weren’t paying attention...how did he say you start again?

He smirks to himself at your hesitation. You weren’t paying attention to a damn word he said. 

Suddenly, he gives your ass a firm smack, causing you to jump slightly in surprise. 

“E-Eddie!” you gasp. “What was that for?”

The darkness in his eyes tells you all you need to know. “You weren’t paying attention, and you know what happens when my good girl doesn’t listen to me.”

Goosebumps spread like wildfire across your skin and your breath hitches at his words. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, I--”

His hand lands another harsh smack on your ass cheek and you gasp loudly, hips pressing forward into the car.

“I’m sure you are, princess,” he hums, kneading your warm cheek as he leans in to whisper in your ear. “But I’m still gonna punish you.”

He spanks you twice more on the other cheek before pushing the oversized t-shirt up over your hips, revealing your lacy panties. Licking his lips, he traces a finger across the warm, damp material over your crotch.

“The first step is to pull the old PCV valve off. Do it.”

Your trembling hands reach down and pull the plug out. At the same time you do this, his finger dips under your panties and swipes across your aching clit. You whine and accidentally drop the plug.

“Fuck, goddamnit...” you curse. “I d-dropped it.”

Eddie sighs, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Mmm. Well, you leave me no choice, kitten...”

Another two smacks are given and you let out a soft cry, gripping the front of the hood tightly.

“I-I’m sssorry!”

He leans forward and places a couple kisses on your neck, just behind your ear.

“Color?” he asks quietly.

You smile. Even in the heat of the moment, he’s still a gentleman. “Green.”

“Good.”

Two of his fingers suddenly press up into you and you fall forward a bit, moaning softly at the feeling. He starts moving his digits in and out of you, smoothing his other hand over the tender flesh of your ass.

“Look for the part,” he says lowly. “Shouldn’t have fallen too far. Now c’mon, we haven’t got all day.”

You lean down a bit further and look for the dropped part, biting down on your lip to prevent the loud noises threatening to spill from your lips. He speeds up gradually, making it hard to focus on finding the part, but you manage to pull it out soon enough. 

“Found i-it.”

He hums, curling his fingers inside you to hit that sensitive spot on your walls. His cock is still throbbing hard, leaking from the slit inside his boxers. He grinds up against you, matching the pace of his fingers. “Good girl. Now I’ll grab the brush and you can clean it.”

Eddie reaches over and digs around his toolbox for a moment while still maintaining the pace with his fingers. You’re moaning and gasping, barely able to grab the brush when he hands it to you. But you manage to and you begin clearing the grime off the inside of the valve.

“There we go, squeeze my fingers, just like that,” he coos as he feels you beginning to clench around him. “Such a good princess, fixing her own car while getting finger-fucked.”

A mewl leaves your pursed lips and your hips press down against his fingers, seeking more friction. Eddie hums, suddenly pulling away and sucking your glistening slick off his digits. 

“Mmmphh -- o-okay, it’s clean,” you breathe, holding up the now-dirty brush up for him to take. “W-What’s next?”

He grabs the brush from you and starts undoing his uniform trousers.

“Now, I’m gonna pound your little pussy until you’re cock drunk,” he states matter-of-factly. “And you’re gonna do the rest of the repair while I’m doing it. Understand?”

You nod and he yanks your panties to the side, slipping his cock through your folds. Your sensitive clit warms at the friction and your hips lurch at his velvety caress, pulling a soft moan from your lips.

He hands you the new plug. “Stick that in the tube. It’s gonna be kinda hard to get in at first, but you just have to work at it, okay?”

“Y-Yes,” you nod again. “I understand.”

Eddie smirks, hand sneaking up around your neck and pulling you up until your back presses against his front. His lips are right next to your ear, now, and he turns his head a bit, his soft, panting breath tickling your ear.

“Mm. Such a good girl.”

His cock suddenly sheathes itself inside you and you cry out softly, so worked up from his previous ministrations. He groans against your neck, nipping at your skin while his hips begin to move, fucking you slowly but deeply at first but he quickly picks up his pace. He releases your throat and you fall forward, just barely catching yourself on your arms before landing on the edge of the hood. 

You start trying to fit the plug into the tube frantically, and he’s right, it is tough. Even tougher when you’re bent over and getting railed from behind.

“F-Fuck!” you cry out, both in frustration and in pleasure. “I can’t...ssshit...I can’t get it!”

Eddie massages your hips as he fucks you harshly, moaning with each forward motion. “Yes you can, kitten, you can get it. Just p-push harder.”

You’re so overwhelmed, brain short-circuiting as Eddie fucks you even harder. You push and push and push that stupid little plug, but still, it won’t go in. You’re so close to orgasm, now, you can practically taste it.

But damnit, you’re gonna get this stupid plug in before you cum if it kills you. 

He smirks as he watches you fight with the plug. He can tell you’re determined to get it, even as your pussy spasms urgently around him.  “G-Good girl -- fuck -- you got it, princess.”

Finally, finally you manage to push that fucking thing in and you nearly cry in relief. When he realizes you’ve done it, he wraps a hand around your throat again and pulls you up against him. His hand then weaves in your hair and pulls firmly, forcing your back to arch.

“E-Eddie!” you gasp, suddenly reaching your peak with a cry of his name. “Eddie! Eddie!”

It seems like all you can say is his name and the occasional swear word, and that’s exactly how he wants you: so cock drunk that you can hardly form words. He loves it.

“Mmm!” he moans as he begins to climax, hips rutting frantically, losing any previous rhythm. “Fuuuuuuck, princess...”

Both of you are breathing heavily as you ride out your highs together, basking in the post-orgasm bliss. Eddie pulls away slowly and tucks himself away while you turn around, pulling your panties back on properly.

He’s wearing his usual dopey smile, pupils still blown wide with lust. He leans in and kisses your lips with a certain gentleness. You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around him to keep him close.

You look up at him when he pulls away, chuckling breathily.

“If I start fixing my car, are we gonna start doing that each time?”

Eddie laughs, kissing you again. “Anything for you, my love. Anything for you.”

~ masterlist ~

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

DADDY ISSUES - Part One: Motive

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You're just a waitress, nothing more. But when your cousin, Steve, gets into a jam and needs your help, you have no choice but to indulge him and become the front-row face of Elvis Presley's '68 Comeback Special. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: None! Inaccuracies to the actual special probably lmao. this chapter is tame. the others won't be

Rating: Pg (but this series will be very NSFW, so minors save yourself the trouble + DNI)   ||     Word Count: 4644

A/N: it's finally hereeeee!! happy thirsty thursday hunnies + i hope you enjoy part 1 of the series! i promise smut will be forthcoming, but i have it plotted for almost every part so i wanted to start out with plot stuff instead 😅

Song Rec: motive - ari (feat. doja cat)

This is Part 1 of Daddy Issues. Find the rest of the series here!

[ masterlist | taglist ]

🦋 mila

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“Order up! Table seventeen.”

You let your slippery white shoes glide across the checked floor as you slide up to the counter. You grab the plate from off the rack and trot out from behind the counter to deliver it to table seventeen.

“I got a burger and fries?” you ask, placing the plate down and proceeding with the rest of the order. You load the family’s dirty dishes onto the tray and snatch up the ringing telephone as you pass by it.

“Chadney’s Restaurant, how can I help you?” you say into the speaker.

“Hi, I’m calling for Y/N?”

“Uh…yes, this is she?” you respond, setting the tray down. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

“Oh Y/N, perfect, this is Steve, your cousin,” the voice replies.

“Steve Binder? Why are you calling me at work? Didn’t your mom give you my new home phone number?”

“Yeah, but I knew you wouldn’t pick up. Listen, I’m in a bit of a bind at the moment, and I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“What kind of favor?”

“Well, seeing as you’re right across the way here, I was just wondering how many people are in the restaurant right now? Do you think any of them would be willing to come down here to be part of a live studio audience?”

You sigh, glancing around the restaurant quickly. It’s later in the afternoon, but because of the restaurant’s vicinity to NBC, it’s usually crowded most of the day. Only a few tables are empty.

“Yeah, it’s busy. I don’t know… there are some younger people. Who’s performing?”

“Elvis Presley.”

You feel your mouth drop open and your blood run cold.

“Y/N! We have orders ready to go out!” You wave a hand dismissively at your boss screaming from the kitchen.

“So, do you think anyone would be interested?” Steve presses.

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know. Listen, I have to go. If you want them, you’ll have to come down here and get them yourself. I gotta go, Steve, bye.”

You click the phone down before he has a chance to protest and get back to work. You’re only able to run about two orders out before the door swings open and you glance up to see your cousin waltzing in with another man you don’t recognize.

“Hi everyone! If I could just have your attention please!”

Murmurs spread throughout the restaurant as forks and knives clink down onto the old yellowed ceramic plates. Silence settles before Steve continues.

“Hi all, I know this is sort of out of the ordinary, but my name is Steve Binder, and I work for NBC. We’re actually across the street right now gearing up to film a show with Elvis Presley, the King of rock’n’roll, I’m sure you’re all familiar. Unfortunately, we seem to have lost our audience. Again, I know this sounds strange, but would any of you be interested in attending the filming to be part of a live audience?”

You hear a gasp and turn to see your coworker and only true friend, Candy, standing next to you. She glances over at you with a big smile and nudges your arm with her elbow.

“Elvis!!” she whispers.

By the time Steve has finished with his announcement, practically everyone in the cafe has jumped out of their seats and rushed toward your cousin, cheering and jeering to get in line. You walk back behind the counter to put your apron away as Steve gestures the people funneling out of the restaurant toward the NBC Studios building across the street. You start stacking plates when you hear Steve’s voice behind you.

“Thanks for your help,” he says.

“Not a problem,” you respond, turning around to hug him. “Now, what’s this I hear about Elvis Presley?”

“Crazy, isn’t it? Bones Howe and I got a call from his producer, Jerry Schilling, about helping him reconnect with his previous persona, his famous image. We met him, talked for a while, and boom now we’re here.”

“That’s amazing!” Candy adds, walking up to lean against the counter. “You know your cousin here,” she gestures to you, “is like the biggest Elvis fan on the planet.”

“You don’t say. Actually…” his eyes light up and he points at you. “Y/N, you know, you’d be perfect for this. You’re exactly the kind of person we want to showcase on the special. Young, fresh, attractive, a real and authentic person. Do you think you could come with me now?”

“No. No, you know I can’t do that," you reply, shaking your head.

“Why not? There’s not a soul in this place, anymore.”

You look around and shake your head.

“There are still people here, and I’m still on the clock. I can’t just leave. I’ll get fired.”

“Ah, Y/N, lay off it. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, honey,” Candy says. “You should go!”

You shake your head and turn, trying to go back to work, but Steve speaks up again.

“I can get you a prime spot. Right in front of him. And your friend is welcome to come, too. C’mon, Y/N. Please.”

Memories flash through your mind. Fans screaming, police lights flashing, flashes of black fabric. You glance back into Steve’s bright blue eyes and feel anxiety rising in your chest. It gets harder to breathe and your fingers start to feel like they’re vibrating. You can’t do this. You shouldn’t do this. You’re not ready. But Steve’s pleading eyes are too strong for your will. You sigh deeply, running a hand over your face.

“Alright fine,” you respond. “Just give me a second to figure this out.”

Steve nods and you turn toward Candy with a deep breath. She wastes no time, jumping over the counter and grabbing onto your wrist to drag you into the kitchen where your boss, Frank, is cooking up a storm.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” Frank asks, wiping sweat from his forehead. “If you’re slacking, I can replace you quicker than a flash.”

“Well, that’s actually something we wanna talk to you about,” Candy says, and you frantically shake your head at her. “A Mr. Steve Binder from NBC Studios just stopped by and he’s looking for some people to join a live audience for a show they’re recording across the street. It’s an Elvis Presley show.”

“Is it one of those goddamn movies again?” Frank asks. “Cause if I have to hear one more word about those shitty films again, I’ll fire both of your asses.”

You shoot a pleading glance at Candy and mouth the word ‘no’, but she just rolls her eyes and shakes her head at Frank’s rude comment.

“No, it’s a musical performance, Frank. And don’t threaten us like that,” she responds, and you feel panic start to pump through your veins.

“What does any of this have to do with me, anyway?” Frank asks gruffly. “I don’t care what you do in your free time.”

“Y/N and I are leaving work early to go be a part of the audience,” Candy says, angrily. “That’s what it has to do with you.”

A clanging noise sounds as Frank drops his metal spatula onto the grill. You drop your head into your hands, clutching onto the roots of your hair and dreading what words will come next.

“What did you say?” Frank asks, turning around with an irate expression on his ugly, bulbous features. You know he isn’t really asking Candy to repeat herself but giving her a chance to change her answer. She keeps her mouth in a straight, flat line, refusing to budge.

“If you think you two little girls can just leave whenever the hell you want, you’re wrong,” he says, jabbing a fat swollen finger at you both. “You walk outta here right now, you’re fired. I don’t wanna see your damn face in here again, do you understand me?”

You falter, feeling all of the blood drain from your face. No, no, no. You can’t be fired. You need this job. But apparently, Candy doesn’t.

“So be it,” she says resolutely. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go be on live television.”

Before you have a chance to fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness from Frank, Candy’s fingers are latching onto your arm and dragging you away.

“Goddamn it! Fired!” Frank yells as you both dash out of the kitchen. “Do you hear me? FIRED! If I EVER see your faces in this restaurant again, I will-”

The rest of what he says is cut off when Candy slams the front door to Chadney’s, never to be opened again. Steve is waiting for you outside, and he perks up when you both approach him. You don’t hear a word of his greeting or Candy’s introduction. So many anxieties and worries are running through your brain. Your whole body feels cold and shaky, and all you can do is focus on remembering to breathe before you have a mental breakdown. The cold air-conditioned breeze shakes you back into consciousness when you walk into the NBC Studios building.

“Alright, so I’ll take you over to costuming and get you all set up, and then we’ll cart you out to the stage,” Steve explains as you dodge people running up and down the hallway with all kinds of props, costumes, and various objects.

“I thought you wanted ‘authentic people,’” you counter as Candy drags you along. You lean out of the way and nearly miss a man carting a huge stuffed moose down the narrow hallway.

“Oh, we do, but we want to make sure that everyone is styled as contemporarily as possible,” Steve says. “No offense to your uniforms.”

You quirk an eyebrow, not the least bit offended. You despise that faded blue dress with the hideous red Chadney’s logo over the left lapel. The creamy white tennis shoes are even more atrocious. Steve leads you both into the costuming room where there are dozens of people everywhere getting dressed in bright yellows, reds, greens, and blues.

“This is Barbara, and she’s gonna help style you today,” Steve says, gesturing to a middle-aged blonde woman with black squared glasses. “For Y/N, we want to put her in something extra stylish because she’s gonna stationed right in front of the camera.”

“Woah, woah, wait!” you say, holding your hands up. “What? No, Steve, I don’t want to be right in front of the camera. I would actually much prefer to get lost in the crowd as much as possible.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re everything we’re looking for as our front girl,” he says, dismissively waving his hand. “I think this one, Barb.”

You’re too busy having your third massive freak out in the last twenty minutes to pay attention to the fabric Steve pulls for you. Barbara shoves you behind a changing stall, pushing a hanger in your face. You reach for Candy only to see her being pulled away to a different stylist.

“Go ahead and get dressed, honey,” Barbara says hurriedly. “Then we’ll figure out what to do with your hair. Oh, before I forget, what shoe size are you?”

You just have enough time to shout your size at her before she’s running off among the chaos around you. You sheepishly duck behind the stall and yank your work uniform off. As quickly as you can, you pull the soft fabric of a dress over your skin. You glance down at the garment. It’s gorgeous. It has a deep red top with fluffy sleeves and little buttons. And the skirt portion is full of rust, orange, yellow, and white floral patterns. Surprisingly, the dress seems to fit very well, perhaps a bit small and tight in some places. By the time you’ve finished admiring it, Barbara is pulling you out to throw a pair of white gogo boots at you. You stuff your sweaty feet into them as Barbara pulls at your hair. It happens so fast that you can’t even comprehend how, but she somehow gets your hair into a beautifully relaxed beehive with a little orange headband that matches one of the colors on the skirt.

“You look great! Now get out there, we’re almost out of time,” she says, pushing you toward the door.

You really wish you could see yourself and at least know what you look like before you go out to be broadcast, apparently front and center, to the American public. But you get swept up by the other audience members rushing toward the stage. You aren’t really sure where you’re going, so you just mosey along with the big group and hope someone knows the right way. Eventually, you find yourself in a rough line, spanning out into the hallway. You can hear someone’s voice, it's familiar but you can’t place it, as he directs people around the tiny red stage in the middle of the room. You peer around the line to get a look at the man with the familiar voice and smile to yourself when you recognize his glasses and shaggy haircut.

Bones Howe, Steve’s business partner. You’d met here and there but would be surprised if he remembers you. You and Steve are cousins, yes, but not blood-related, so the times you see each other are rare. You step up after the older woman in front of you who reeks of cheap perfume.

“Y/N! Hi, nice to see you again. Wow, Steve was right, you look great. Just what we’re looking for,” he says with a big smile.

“Hi Bones,” you chuckle, feeling flattered at the fact that he remembers you.

“Alright so we’re gonna have you placed right here,” he says, pointing and pushing your back gently to guide you. “Now just a quick reminder to act natural but also remember that the camera will be on you the majority of the time. So just don’t pick your nose or do anything you wouldn’t want your mother to see. Thanks again for doing this!”

Before you can ask a question or say ‘you’re welcome,’ he’s gone. You shrug and take your place, once again directly by the stage. Just as you’re settling in, lazily glancing around to see if you can find Candy, someone slides in next to you.

“Hi! I’m Trixie!” a high-pitched voice says and a small hand reaches out beside you. You turn to see a beautiful woman, tall and curvy, with dark black hair and bright brown eyes. She’s wearing a turtleneck sweater, a plaid skirt, and matching knee thighs with heels. All in a vivid color of bright lavender that compliments her skin perfectly. You smile, reaching to shake her hand.

“Y/N,” you respond with a smile. “I love your outfit.”

“Thanks! I picked it out myself,” she says. “So, did you call in on the radio, too?”

“Uh…no, no I sort of…got picked, I guess,” you respond with furrowed eyebrows. Call in on the radio?

“Oh, very fancy! I called in as soon as I heard on the radio. Are you an Elvis fan? I’ve been to three of his concerts, own all his records, and seen all his films,” she says, leaning against the stage with a big smile.

“Yes, big fan!” you say, nodding. “I’ve also seen all his movies. And I’ve only been to one concert but it was…the best night of my life, honestly.”

Minus the riot that broke out after…

“Wow, that’s awesome! Which concert, I wonder if we could have been at the same one?”

“Russwood Park 1956,” you say with a deep breath.

“Wow, that must have been amazing! I remember reading about it in the papers,” Trixie says. “What was it like?”

Just as you’re about to answer, you hear that familiar voice again and glance up to see Bones kneeling down next to you.

“Ladies, if I could actually bother you both to sit up here on the stage, that would be incredible,” Bones says with a wink. “We want to make sure that it looks casual, like Elvis is just a regular guy hanging out with a bunch of kids. Alright, great!”

You look at Trixie and shrug with a nervous smile. You both hop up onto the stage, sitting sideways next to each other. You glance around you to see that a huge crowd has packed in behind you.

“Hi all and welcome to NBC Studios!”

Applause erupts all around you, and you gently clap your hands together.

“We’re so pleased to have all of you, and we’re super excited for the show. Just a few things before we get started to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”

He points up toward a flashing red light that says APPLAUSE. Very subtle...

“Now when that sign lights up, what do you do?” Bones asks.

The crowd erupts into applause again, and you shake your head at the sheer absurdity of it all. Bones continues to explain how things are going to work.

“And lastly, ladies and gentleman, this is television not radio, so when that goes on and you clap, let's see it on your faces.”

The crowd claps again, and you glance around to admire the variety of expressions on the faces of the audience members. Some are definitely more cut out for this acting natural thing than others.

“Now Elvis is performing tonight just for you so keep that in mind. Let that inspire you,” Bones says. “And without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, here’s Elvis Presley.

And there he is, indeed. Ironically in black, again, just like the last time you saw him. He takes the stage with a smile, and you drink him in. He looks incredible, tan and fit and happy, probably better than he had when you’d seen him last. But he seems nervous, a feeling which you hadn’t noticed the last time you’d seen him. He shakes himself out and glances around for a moment, nodding, before grabbing his guitar. You feel Trixie latch onto your hand and squeeze excitedly. You shoot her a smile as he begins to sing.

Heartbreak Hotel, one of your favorites. You feel a smile spreading across your face as his hips start to move back and forth with the beat of the song. His voice is incredible, even better than it had been when he was young. Back then, it was smoother, higher pitched. Now, it’s deep, rich, and raspy. A man’s voice. You bring a hand up to cover your mouth as he leans back, holding the microphone stand tightly. His eyes travel backward as a smirk crawls onto his face. And for a quick second, your heart stops and smile drops.

Had he seen you? No, it’s impossible. You’re kidding yourself and hoping for something that won’t happen. Something unbelievable.

So you think, until he tilts his head down and stares right at you. There’s no mistaking it this time. His eyes are trained on you for a few seconds until he removes the guitar and hands it off to a bandmate. He drops to his knees right in front of you and pushes his crotch up into your face. A sense of deja vu hits you like a brick. You suck in a sharp breath and throw a hand onto your face in embarrassment as you catch him wink at you. When he gets up to go back to center stage, you feel your chest release a shaky breath.

Despite everything in your body telling you this isn’t real, here you are again. Somehow almost in the exact same spot you had been during the performance in 1956 in Memphis. Right by the stage, right where you can see him. And he can see you. Your lips part, and you grip hard onto the fabric of the orange dress, feeling the blood once again drain from your face. You’d never thought you’d ever see him again. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d been to see him the first time around at all. It’s 12 years ago now. You were only 16 then, now you were almost 30. Everything had changed that day. Your expectations for life, your standards for men, your understanding of sex. Everything.

You were just a face in the crowd, nothing special. Sure, you’d fought your way up to the front, but you were so small then. It was just easier for you to get there and weave through the crowd. You were just watching him in that black suit as he threw himself around onstage. You’d screamed with the other fans, gripped at the stage, overreacted like the teenage girl you were. There was nothing special about you. You were utterly ordinary. Until he’d knelt down by you, right in front of you, and reached out with his beautiful slender fingers, curled those fingers around your chin…

You absentmindedly reach up to touch the skin on your jaw, remembering the feeling of his strong grasp on the bones underneath the skin.

How it felt to have him touch you. You, out of everyone else in the crowd. He’d leaned so close to you, so close that you could see the beads of sweat on his skin, rolling down his dark black hair. He’d sang right to you. Right in your face as his eyes searched yours and he gripped onto your jaw. You’ll never forget the feeling of emptiness when he’d left your space. When he’d retreated from you. The need, the desire you felt to get him back. To have him next to you again. To have him that close to you. You would never forget that day in Russwood Park. Never.

You smile as you watch him, knowing that you’ll never forget this moment in time either. He moves around similarly to how he used to but with even more confidence now. He doesn’t have the body of a child anymore, but a man’s frame. Tall and thick. Your eyes gravitate toward his ass, and your mouth falls open as you watch it move. The full leather suit he wears hugs him in all the right places, especially there. You bite your lip at the way the fabric moves against him and shines in the light. A few people around you start to sing along, so you join in, clapping to the time. You drop your face into your hands, feeling heat creep into your cheeks as he wiggles around on stage again. You clap with a huge smile on your face as he speaks into the mic.

“It’s been a long time, baby. A long time,” he says.

After he performs, the crew brings a stool up onto the stage and he sits to chat about his career and where he’s at in his life right now.

“But that’s one thing about this tv special that I’m doing,” he’s saying, “They’re gonna let me do what I wanna do. Sing the music that I want. The music that I love. The music that makes me happy.”

You catch him glancing up at something, and your eyes follow his gaze to rest on a beautiful woman sitting in the upper sections. His wife, Priscilla. You recognize her from the magazine covers you’ve seen of them together. You’d been crushed when they’d gotten married. Of course you’re happy for them both and never at all expected that he would fall in love with you or anything like that. You knew it was implausible, but still, you had hope. Hope that was all but crushed when Mrs. Presley became a reality.

You shake off the slight disappointment that you feel trying to settle into your chest and enjoy the rest of the show. Even though Elvis’ back is toward you for the remainder of the taping, you still love hearing him talk about himself and his music. You’re having such a great time that what ends up taking three hours feels like three minutes. And you can forget, for that time, about the fact that you no longer have a stable income. You crane your neck as Elvis walks off the stage, smiling and waving to the crowd. You want to see as much of him as humanly possible. It could be the last time.

You watch as he stops momentarily to talk to a tall man with shaggy blondish hair. You turn to Trixie, who is gushing about the performance but glance back at Elvis out of the corner of your eye to see him gesturing toward your area of the stage. For a moment, your heart skips a beat but you shake yur head. No, he couldn’t possibly have singled you out again. That would make you too lucky. Way too lucky.

After the show, you’re ushered back into the costuming area and stripped of your clothes. You sigh and shrug back on your old uniform with all the ketchup and coffee stains. As soon as the fabric hits your skin, it’s a harsh reminder that you need to find a job. Like yesterday. You emerge from the changing station and gently place the dress on a table with other random pieces of clothing, but not before fishing out a small strip of worn paper. Trixie had written her name, address, and phone number on it. She’d said she’s looking for a roommate and, apparently, really likes you enough to consider you. Maybe it’s time for a move, after all.

“Thanks for your help, Barbara,” you say. She glances up at you with her magnified eyes and smiles warmly. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where I can find Mr. Binder, would you? I have something I wanted to ask him about.”

“Upstairs, to the right in the recording studio,” she responds. “If you get lost just ask someone and tell them Barb sent you.”

You thank her again and place the white gogo boots on the floor next to the table. But as you turn to leave, Barbara’s voice stops you.

“Take them,” she says softly, gesturing to the boots and the dress. “They were made for you.”

You normally wouldn’t indulge such an offer, but now that you’re jobless, you figure some free stuff can’t hurt. You smile and reach down to grab the outfit, tucking it under your arm as you wind your way around the crowds and pockets of people. When you get upstairs, you take a moment to glance around at the posters on the wall. Your eyebrows raise as you see one for Star Trek. Very cool. Your eyes swing to the right and you see what looks like, to your untrained eyes, a recording studio. You debate knocking but aren’t sure if it’ll interfere with any of the recording process, so you just quietly step in and press your back to the wall.

“Cue the gospel number now,” Steve says quickly, and you lean away from the door as a lumbering fat man waddles in.

“No,” the fat man mumbles, “None of this will be in the special.”

He gestures toward two businessmen sitting across the doorway. You hadn’t even noticed them when you’d walked in, but they look displeased in their stiff black suits.

“Can you make a note that that should be in the special,” Steve says, and you chuckle to yourself. “Now let’s segue straight into the whorehouse dancers.”

Your mouth drops open and you throw a hand over your mouth. Steve continues to bring more crazy and wild aspects into the special, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing audibly. The way Elvis’ manager frantically looks from screen to screen wracks your body with silent hisses.

Suddenly, the cast and crew start running frantically and screaming. Your laughing stops abruptly and your attention is pulled to a crew member as they dash into the room.

“Robert Kennedy’s been shot!!”

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[lunatens]

promise

-

requested by anon <3 tysm for requesting!! 

prompt: “your place is on the throne,” “no, my place is by your side,”

*part of my 2 years with luna event!

word count: 1.0k

genre: royalty au (this is my first time writing something like this i apologize for any inaccuracies lmao it’s a fantasy world so shh it’s fine), fantasy au (sort of), fluff

pairing: prince!wooyoung x gn reader

here goes nothing, you think to yourself as you slip out of the castle. you glance behind you, biting your lip nervously--you don’t think anyone saw you leaving, and you took extra care to be as quiet as possible as you snuck through the stone corridors on your way out. as a loyal servant to the royal family, you know every nook and cranny of the palace, which made it much easier to plan your escape. you don’t know how long you’ll be gone for, but you can only hope that you’ll be back at all. 

for the past month or so, people have been going missing from the kingdom at night. no one knows why or where they’ve gone, but family members wake to find empty beds with no sign of a struggle. these events have had the entire castle on edge, and thus security has been doubled; despite this, however, your own mother vanished just two mornings ago, and you know you can’t just sit around and do nothing. 

prince wooyoung had asked his parents if you could be the one to stay by his side, not necessarily for protection but more for comfort. and so you’ve been loyally spending your time with wooyoung--not that you’d complain; he’s always been sweet to you and you consider each other the best of friends. you remember the time he snuck out of the royal ball, grabbing your hand and leading you out into a secret corner of the garden to hide. you remember how you nearly kissed, his breath fanning out over your lips as he leaned in close before you stepped back, not wanting to get him in any trouble. you can still clearly picture the look on his face as you told him you should head back to the castle, his hand slipping quietly out of yours. 

you push the memory aside as you creep around the bushes and flowers, clutching a note in your shaky hands. you spot the familiar statue you know all too well, slipping behind it through a small gap in the hedges to the hidden cove. it was your favourite place when you were younger; wooyoung would drag you here to try and get out of his lessons or to hide from his parents when he played a prank on someone in the castle. honestly, you’re shocked this place has remained a secret for so long. as the two of you grew older, you came here less and less, as wooyoung became more focused on his duties and you on yours. in fact, that time you almost kissed was the last time you were here, it must’ve been over a year ago at this point. 

you sit on the overgrown bench, running your fingers over the moss and cracks in the stone. you carefully place the note beside you, then secure your small bag of a few belongings and some food you stole from the kitchen before standing up with a sigh. you turn back for a final glance at the palace, taking in its dark silhouette against the night sky. as you turn to leave, however, a twig snaps behind you and you hear rustling from within the hedge. 

“y/n? what are you doing out here at this hour?” wooyoung asks as your heart returns to its normal pace. you stare at him for a moment, a deer caught in the headlights, trying to think of what to tell him. as your brain works, wooyoung’s eyes move from your packed bag to the note on the bench and finally to your eyes, and you know he’s put two and two together.

“you...you’re leaving?” he asks stepping closer to you. you take a step back, knowing he could make this so much harder than it already is.

“wooyoung, i-”

“is it your mom?” he asks. he’s whispering, even though you’re safely out of earshot in the hedges away from the castle. his eyes shine with concern, and you notice he’s just in his nightgown and a light cloak to keep him warm in the chilly night air. 

“i can’t just sit around and wait for her to show up,” you tell wooyoung with a sigh. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you.”

“where are you gonna go? i mean, do you even know where to start looking?” wooyoung asks. he’s trying to sound casual, but you can pick up on the bitterness and anger in his voice; he doesn’t want you to leave.

“i’ve heard rumours of an old mage deep in the woods beyond the outskirts of town, so i’m going to see if maybe they know anything. it’s at least a start,” you tell him. you know it’s not much, but it’s the only lead you have. wooyoung looks at you in silence for a moment, and you wonder what he’s thinking.

“it’ll be faster if we have horses,” he states.

“w--i’m sorry, we?”

“i’m coming with you, y/n.” wooyoung takes your hands in his.

“no. absolutely not. it’s gonna be dangerous! what if you get hurt, or killed?”

“then you’ll just have to protect me,” wooyoung replies with a shrug and a smug smile.

“no, wooyoung. this is wrong. you can’t come with me, your place is on the throne,” you tell him. you try to push him away, but he only pulls you in closer.

“no, my place is by your side,” he adds firmly. you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t melt at his words. his eyes are fierce with determination, and you know there’s no changing his mind. 

“fine, but you can’t go like this,” you comment, gesturing to his attire (or lack thereof). wooyoung thinks to himself for a moment.

“okay, i’ve got an idea. meet me by the stables in ten minutes, okay?” he says.

“okay, but i swear to god wooyoung, if you get caught-”

“y/n, who do you think i am?” wooyoung says with a grin. he lifts your hands up to gently kiss your knuckles before slipping away into the darkness, leaving you with adrenaline coursing through you at the excitement of running away with (your true love) the prince on an unknown adventure.

[yelenasdog]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝟏

   ♰ 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔱

genre: fluff

summary: new school, new faces. or maybe not? part one to a series explaining the pictures of my college au moodboard “new faces”.

words: 2k

warnings: pining, cursing, kissing, lots of inaccuracies to the show, that’s all i can think of.

a/n: i haven’t done anything for cm in quite some time but i got this random poof of inspo so here take it LMAO roger fic coming really soon.

♀♀♀

It was their first kiss. First date, actually.

Emily was a senior at Georgetown, having just transferred from University of Pittsburgh for her last year. Both schools were an odd choice for the young woman, the former proving to be the wrong fit, as it turned out. It angered her mother that she had been transferring so close to graduation, and frankly Emily could care less, but for some reason, she felt her skin itch at any thought of staying at that horrid place just a semester longer.

She wasn’t quite sure as to why. Her questions might have been answered, though, her first day on the new campus. 

The fall air was chilly and crisp, her nose running ever so slightly as she would pull her burgundy jacket tighter around herself in a desperate grab at warmth, it all to no avail. She kept trying, though, pulling the tie around her waist so tight that it felt as if she was in a corset. 

(Not that she would know, she’d refused to ever get near one. The whole idea of them scared her.)

She watched the colorful leaves crunch under her boots, enjoying the sound and feeling a great deal, the texture reminding her fondly of moments from her youth, the few fond ones she had, anyway. She smiled softly, looking up to see the leaves swirl around a familiar looking blonde head of hair.

A few of the leaves got stuck in the hay colored (now) mess, and she only smiled at it, reaching up a gentle hand to pick them out. She grinned down at them and bit her pink lips, watching as they dropped to the cobblestone from her hand. She continued on with a pep in her step, and to put it lightly, Emily was infatuated.

She thought about the blue eyed beauty for the rest of the day, her elegance, her lips that somehow weren’t chapped in the horribly cold weather (which not that Emily knew yet, but was because of the cinnamon peppermint chapstick that the mystery girl kept in her right pocket), and her aura, so to say, as a whole. The voice in her head told her to simmer down, that it was unrealistic that someone as seemingly bright and sunny would even think about spending a flicker of precious time with someone like her. Emily should have been more confident, as she would learn, as mystery girl had been thinking of her, too.

Yes, Jennifer Jareau was thinking of the unknown girl with the wonderfully long eyelashes, and the shiny dark hair that was similar to the shade of black that graced the feather of the crows she would see down by the pond she passed on her morning runs. Her mind was otherwise occupied from all normal affairs, consumed by thoughts of her ripped and pale lips that the enticing other woman darted her tongue across mere seconds after the last time she had, every single time. 

Jennifer had wished to tell the girl that licking her lips only dried them out more, only wanting to help relieve her of any possible pain, as that’s what Jennifer always did. That’s why she told herself she was thinking of the drop dead gorgeous girl who she had sworn she’d seen before, and she promised to herself she would find her and let her know.

And apparently, she would.

It wouldn’t be for a few hours, though, not until they both ended up at the top floor of the library, the quietest one where there was a silent rule that speaking was forebode. Emily internally cursed herself for that, feeling damned that fate would put her in a position of such pining, yearning. It was an ironic situation, though, as Emily would like to believe that she would have the confidence in herself enough to actually go up to the blonde and make conversation, maybe ask her for a study date? But, she wouldn’t. Not today.

Jennifer would, though. Jennifer would catch notice of the brunette lurking behind the single bookshelf in the upper level, as it was only really there for storage and the shelves were sparse. So with her heart beating and her palms sweaty, she went down the flights of stairs, her feet silent against the carpet. They would sound out again when she reached the tile flooring of the second level, and she screwed her eyes shut, hoping that somehow the girl followed her and that JJ would hear her footprints.

She didn’t care how ridiculous she looked, all bundled up and standing in the middle of a group of tables with her eyes closed, almost like she was trying to turn invisible, hiding in plain sight. Honestly, she very well may have been.

A few beats passed, and Jennifer gave up on her non existent spidey senses, deciding to try to actually rid her mind of raven girl, as she had decided to call her until she knew her real name, and study for her upcoming exam that she her until she knew her real name, and study for her upcoming exam that she somehow had, despite it only being the sophomores first day.

So she sat quietly as she read through her criminology textbook, humming some tune that her friend had introduced her to, something by a new indie group. Her humming came to a cease, though, when she heard a thud. She looked up, a small gasp falling from her glossed lips at who was sitting across from her.

She looked right back down to the tanned wood of the table, as soon as she saw warm brown eyes boring into her. Then, it was quiet, just the bustle of those around her. Pages flipping, pencils scratching, and small groans escaping from tired students as they went.

“Why’d you stop?”

Jennifer’s breath caught in her throat, her perfectly manicured hand freezing on the paragraph she was reading. Raven girl's voice had caught her off guard, deep and smooth, like honey.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” The blonde stuttered out, still having a hard time meeting her eyes.

“Your humming, I liked it, it was nice. Don’t tell me you stopped because of me!” She leaned forward on her arm, quirking a perfect eyebrow. They both laughed, and Emily felt she hadn’t ever in her life heard such a golden and melodic sound before.

“Sorry, sorry, you just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Emily. I just transferred here from-”

“University of Pittsburgh?”

A look of bewilderment came across Emily's stark features, along with a sly smile. “How’d you know,”

“Jennifer. My name’s Jennifer. I came here for my grad studies a while back.”

Emily chuckled again, falling back to her chair. “God, I swore you looked so familiar.” She said, watching as Jennifer laughed and shook her head. Jennifer closed her book, observing that Emily never had even opened hers. She placed it in her bag slinging it over her shoulder. She stood, Emily following suite.

“Small world, right, Emily?”

She nodded immediately, tightening her own grip on her satchel. The leather was cool on her calloused fingers,

“Care to chat with me about it over a coffee?”

And that’s how they ended up sitting in the quaint cafe just down the road, watching as the sun started to sink, beverages in hand. Jennifer had found out that Emily preferred her coffee black, while Emily had found out that Jennifer liked hers with 2 hazelnut creams and 4 sugars. The thought made both girls smile, finding that both drinks fit their personalities perfectly.

Growing impatient, Emily ran her tongue over her lips again, feeling the peeling skin, the taste bitter and the sores burning. She leaned closer to Jennifer, like she had earlier in the library. Jennifer could feel her breath fanning over her neck, and it gave her butterflies, just like the ones she can remember being so obsessed with in her youth.

“What do you say we get outta here, find somewhere to watch the sunset?”

Jennifer only nodded bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and standing, taking Emily's hand as it had been offered to her, following her wherever she may go.

Now, they were sitting on the concrete of the rooftop to the freshman dorms, Emily somehow managing to get through, claiming she had some friends who would be happy to let her up. Apparently, she wasn’t bluffing.

“Sunset’s gorgeous, huh?” Jennifer spoke, her hands feeling the rough material beneath her, the wind blowing against her face. Her hair floated around her like a halo, and though Emily had lost much faith, if she had to spot an angel, her money was on them looking just like the girl next to her. Her eyes never left Jennifer’s silhouette as she spoke, her focus captured.

“Yeah. Breathtaking.”

Jennifer turned to meet her gaze, both of them fully understanding what breathtaking, really, truly meant in that moment. It was the windswept hair, breathtaking, really, truly meant in that moment. It was the windswept hair, watery eyes, red noses. Bright smiles, hands basically itching to reach for the other.

“Does everyone call you Jennifer?”

“I mean, my mom calls me Jen?”

Emily shook her head, saying “No, that won’t work. How about a last name?”

“Jareau.”

She took a second, using this as an opportunity to stall, decide her next move.

“I’ve got it! How about JJ? Yeah?”

Jennifer or JJ, smiled again, looking to her hands. She loved it, God, why did she love it? She knew the answer to that, because Emily had given it to her, it was new, exciting. Just like her.

“It’s that, or J squared. Which one?” She tilted her head, and then both laughed and smiled, something they found they would be doing a lot of together.

“Yeah, you’re right. JJ is good, it’s good.” She whispered, lifting her head. She was met with Emily, who had some troubled look upon her face. She was conflicted, that much JJ could tell, her few profiling classes she’d had serving her well.

They were close, now, and JJ could finally see the folds and cracks of the other girls lips, wanting nothing more than to just lean in and kiss them, once and for all.

“Y’know, uh, licking your lips makes dryness even worse.”

Emily's mouth made an “o”, a smile coming soon after.

“Really? Well then you’ve got to spill, what on Earth do you do to keep yours so damn perfect?”

“I- Fuck.”

Not waiting a second more, JJ rushed forward, connected their lips in what felt so long awaited, though they had only formally known each other for a few hours. The contrast of their skin was so enticing, so addicting, they couldn’t help but smile, teeth clashing and breaths mixing. They only separated to catch their breaths, chests heaving.

“It’s chapstick. I never leave home without it.” JJ commented, said chapstick having left remnants on Emily's lips. She nodded, opening her eyes.

“Yeah, I got that. Peppermint and,” She quickly flicked her tongue again, recognition becoming prevalent in her features. “cinnamon?”

JJ’s smile widened, as it had never left her face, and she nodded slowly, pulling the tube out from her right pocket. She popped off the lid, shifting positions so that she was straddling Emily's lap, her hair dangling in her eyes.

“Is this okay?” She questioned, the chapstick still in her shaky hand. Emily nodded vigorously, her heart beating quite fast, her mind repeating all the possibilities that could go wrong like some sort of mantra.

“Yeah, this is more than okay.” She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. JJ did the same, putting on another round of the solution before leaning down and placing a long kiss on Emily's lips. She pulled away, running the tube over them again, “just for good measure” she had said.

When they finally had left the cold rooftop, hand in hand, the sky had turned into an indigo sheet, the stars in it shimmering as bright as ever.

“Em?” JJ had questioned, stopping in her tracks. Emily looked over, raising her brows and tilting her head, resembling a puppy.

“Hmm?”

“Can we do this again?”

The question hung in the air, and Emily savoured it, letting it sink in deeply, as deep as it could go. They started walking again, their heels echoing loudly against the wet stone.

“Yeah, JJ. I’d like that.”

♀♀♀

hmmmmmmm interesting ANYWAY i’ll make a pt two prolly idk peace ily go drink water and eat protein 

edit: i just reread this this is so horrible what the FAWK im so sorry never let me write when im pulling an all nighter ever again

xx hj

[clayandstuff]

Becho Musings Part 2

Some more musings about Becho while simultaneously addressing unfounded blorke takes that make my blood boil and have no basis in reality. Focusing on S5 and on since I’ve already covered Becho’s relationship before they got together, this will look at them specifically as a couple. Posting this for posterity on my blog.

TL;DR

Not to accidentally validate any of these blorke claims by talking about them or giving them attention, but they’re so easily debunked by canon I can’t help myself... 

Garbage take #1

Echo is just following Bellamy, she doesn’t love him, he is her King, they have a spy/king dynamic (lmao this isn’t even a real thing like wtf does this mean? You can tell blorkes are pressed about the knight/princess racist trope their ship falls into but you can’t just make things up! What a sad, misguided attempt to create a false equivalence between bellarke and Becho. A spy/king dynamic is literally not a thing - and unsurprisingly, it doesn’t accurately represent the relationship between Bellamy and Echo at all - but nice try I guess), Echo is only looking for someone to follow and take orders from, etc. 

There’s so much to break down in this hot garbage take:

Before I get into absolutely destroying this hot garbage, let’s quickly address how the subtle framing of these “arguments” purposefully doesn’t acknowledge Bellamy’s feelings for Echo. Attempting to discredit Becho by designating Echo as a follower deliberately disregards Bellamy’s active role in his relationship and his feelings for her. Bellamy loves Echo and that’s clear throughout the show, but it’s wonderfully vocalized on screen multiple times in S5. Bellamy considers Echo his family (5x01 “we’re family and nothing can change that”) and it’s explicitly verbalized in 5x07 (”Our friends are there. People we love”) and once again in 5x12, from Clarke herself, when she told Echo “Bellamy loved you”. So, ya know, Bellamy loves Echo. That’s not debatable.

So first off, Echo’s relationship with Bellamy is not at all like her relationship to the Azgeda royal family (who she was in servitude of and essentially employed by). This is one of the worst takes I’ve ever seen and I’m not sure how anyone can logically come to that conclusion? (Which is mainly due to the fact that this claim is made in bad faith and isn’t actually based on logic or what we’ve seen in canon, but I digress). Not to mention Echo refers to Roan and Nia with honorifics and obviously does NOT do that with Bellamy, seriously wtf show are blorkes watching... Being loyal or devoted to someone does not mean the same thing for every relationship. Context matters. People can be loyal to each other for a variety or reasons, family/survival/clan/duty/temporary alliance/self-preservation/etc. Echo's never even hugged Roan, that already contextually makes her relationship with Bellamy very different from her relationship with Roan. Being devoted to someone because it's your job to protect the royal family (as a member of the Queen's guard and spy for the Ice Nation) is not the same as being devoted to someone because you are in love with them, in a romantic relationship with them, and want to keep them safe because they’re precious to you. Hello?? 

The other glaring inaccuracy with this garbage take is that Echo is not someone who just follows people or orders. That’s never been her character. She is a soldier, like Bellamy - but even when she was loyal to Azgeda she was never just a good little follower. She singlehandedly took control of Polis for Azgeda and commanded the entire Azgeda army in Roan’s absence. She doesn’t sit around waiting for people to give her orders or tell her what to do next. That’s simply contradictory to what we’ve actually been shown on the show. Mischaracterizing her as such is nothing more than a blorke ploy to minimize (and outright ignore) her strengths and agency as a character, intentionally erasing the fact that she is a brilliant strategist, skilled warrior, and a trusted political confidant. 

Also, did blorkes forget that she’s literally a goddamn spy?! Being a spy is not the job for a follower who can’t think for themselves and needs someone to take orders from. A spy is given a mission and it’s up to them alone to make it happen. There’s actually an enormous amount of freedom and trust given to a spy. No one gives you step-by-step instructions to achieve your goal. You are literally on your own, often in enemy territory, having to think on your feet, adapt, and come up with a plan to get the job done. Oops embarrassing they forgot she’s a spy (it’s laughable to watch S7 and think she would ever actually betray her friends. She. Is. A. Spy. Infiltration is her job - we even saw her successfully infiltrate Diyoza’s camp in S5 and Diyoza herself actually admits she “got played” by Echo - CMON. Loyalty is her defining characteristic. PAY ATTENTION)

Calling her a follower is such a gross mischaracterization. Just look at her relationship with Roan (her actual King). She constantly argues with him, gives him push back, and even insinuates that he’s weak (to his face) on more than one occasion (in 4x01 when she flat out tells him “we can’t afford for our people to think you’re weak” and he gets offended enough to call her out on it, and then again when she’s sparring with him in 4x02 and offers to take his place once she knocks him on his ass). She doesn't even follow orders all that well if we're being honest (bless her little panda heart). She's the one who tells Roan to "send me to Arkadia" when she thinks Skaikru isn't being honest. She's the one telling Roan, the king, what to do! Not only does he let her talk to him like that, he actually values what she has to say. 

Furthermore, the one time we see Roan actually give her a direct order (to bring Octavia back alive) Echo ends up NOT doing that (lol). She isn’t afraid to speak her mind or make her own decisions. One of her biggest character defining moments (that gets her banished from her clan) is when she decides to act of her own volition and go directly behind Roan’s back, to cheat in the conclave. No one ordered her to do that, it was all her. And there’s also all of the S7 Bardo Disciples plot which further proves that Echo isn’t just some mindless follower (cough cough Bellamy with the Shepard cough cough and Pike...). She’s always been her own person who thinks for herself and does what she believes is best for her people. (Even as far back as her introduction in S2 when she realizes Bellamy is Skaikru but still decides to trust and work with him in Mt. Weather. She also silences all those grounders in the cages with a single command and they ALL shut up and obey her, but sure yeah she’s just a follower 🙄🙄🙄)

So now that we’ve established how she interacts with Roan, let’s look at how she interacts with Bellamy. I’ve already detailed their attitude towards each other before they get together here, but now let’s look at how they act as a couple. 

In S5, we see in their first scene together that they are very affectionate towards one another (so much kissing, arm rubbing, smiling, and forehead touching) as they mutually comfort each other. Echo is apprehensive about things changing on the ground because of Octavia and the fact that she’s still banished, but Bellamy makes an effort to get her to smile (even going so far as to joke about her “almost killing” his sister and him being more stubborn than Octavia. He gets her to laugh with him and even exclaims “good!” once she finally relaxes and smiles). He also tells her “we’re family and nothing can change that” - very different from her relationship with Nia (who Echo bowed down to when in her presence) who used Echo as spy/weapon of war, and Roan, who cast her out after using her political knowhow to effectively lead. Then on the Eligius ship in 5x03 they get their battle couple on by working together and fighting side-by-side to take out the prisoner who woke up. Later in that same episode, they jointly come up with a plan to deal with the cryo-sleeping prisoners that isn’t just murdering them (ultimately utilizing Echo’s plan to use them as leverage since Bellamy doesn’t want to kill them and Echo knows that it’s a strategic mistake to leave their enemy with reinforcements if they can stop it). When they don’t agree on something, they always talk it through and compromise (a sign of a healthy and mature relationship, where both people are regarded as equals and their input is valued). 

Also, Echo was the one who came up with the plan to counter McCreary’s forces when he’d stolen Diyoza’s battle plans. Echo and Bellamy share a voiceover as they both relay the plan simultaneously to their separate groups. Once Bellamy finishes explaining, Octavia says to him “tell Echo I said well done”, giving Echo credit and acknowledging the fact that this is indeed Echo’s idea. Can someone kindly point me to where Echo is being a follower waiting patiently to be given her orders from her “King”?? Because as far as I can tell that never actually happens...

Side note, anyone else remember how blorkes were irate that Echo was the one leading Spacekru at the end of s5. They complained that it didn’t make sense for Echo to be in charge because “Raven was smarter” and Echo was being “so bossy”. Let’s just take a moment to acknowledge the contradictory nature of the arguments “Echo is so bossy and leading Spacekru” but also “she’s just a follower with a spy/king dynamic to Bellamy”. She can’t be both 🤣 stick to a story please. (Also, I LOVE Raven so this is in no way me shading Raven, she’s amazing and brilliant). Bonus: when the show runner is sick of your garbage takes and calls you out

To reiterate, the contradictory claims and clear disregard for facts and the truth of the show just further proves that their “complaints” are made entirely in bad faith. They are rejecting reality and demonstrate no comprehension of canon - their garbage takes should not hold any weight and are merely a form of lashing out because they’re upset their fanon ship never happened.

Getting back on topic...

So, S5 is where Becho are canonically established as a romantic relationship and the audience gets to see, for the first time, how they interact after 6 years in space and falling love. (Can I just point out that the entire purpose of a time jump is to have our characters change and be in emotionally new and different places - it’s a storytelling device to change the status quo and shake things up - it’s perfectly acceptable to have Becho get together during it given their history with one another. I address this in more detail later so we’ll put a pin in this for now)

Once they get down to the ground, Bellamy fights for Echo (both figuratively and literally) with Octavia and at every turn he doubles down on his love for Echo. To summarize, Echo won’t turn in the defectors and is willing to be banished for it, leaving Bellamy to stay in Polis with Octavia so he can still have a relationship with his sister. However, Bellamy won’t let Echo do that. He doesn’t want her to leave and he doesn’t want to be apart from her. He offers to defect with her! He would chose to give up his relationship with Octavia and Clarke (who he just found out was alive and reunited with) to be with Echo. Echo doesn’t like that plan because she doesn’t want Bellamy to be in harm’s way. She even tells him “we’ve been through this. You’re not going with me” to which he responds “like hell I’m not!” and she tells him “you are not dying for me”. Bellamy seems inconsolable at the thought of her leaving and can’t even look Echo in the eye when he’s telling her that he’ll be in the rover and it’ll only take him a few days to get to her, and once again Echo comforts and reassures him. 

While Echo is at Diyoza’s camp trying to take down the eye, Bellamy has been staring at the monitor nonstop for 8 hours waiting for any change or sign that Echo made it there safely. Harper has to come in and tell him "you've been staring at that all night" and to “go, get some sleep”, knowing that if left on his own he would emotionally exhaust himself worrying about Echo and her safety indefinitely. Bellamy responds that the eye should be down by now and even says that he "wishes it was me over there". (This line reminds me of when he took her place in Mt. Weather to get bled in the harvest chamber. He is always willing to put himself in her place if it means getting her out of danger - he loves her and would do whatever it takes to keep her out of harm’s way). 

Eventually Bellamy marches through the desert and carries Echo’s sword for her. He even sits by the fire and holds onto her sword because he can’t reach out and hold Echo (meanwhile Echo is being comforted by Emori that she’ll be together with Bellamy soon - I love a good yearning parallel!). When they reunite at the end of the season, they hug, grip each other tightly, and stay pressed together just being in each other’s embrace (again, this is NOT how she acted with Roan or Nia... this is a romantic relationship, and it's obviously played out on screen very differently. Echo never received a singe bit of comfort - physical or otherwise - from anyone in Azgeda). 

Before they get out of the rover after rescuing Octavia, the minute Echo and Bellamy are reunited, Bellamy reaches out for Echo's hand and holds it (a callback to earlier in the season when he was reaching out for and grabbing onto her sword in her absence). Then they battle-couple-it-up again and take out the gunners making it possible for Wonkru to march through the gorge. They are equals (and partners) on and off the battle field.

S5 ends with Bellamy staring at Echo in cryosleep, yearning for her once again. And in S6 right off the bat they compromise with each other to get things done. The planet is dangerous and Bellamy doesn’t want to take fighters but Echo counters that it might be a mistake not to bring their to best fighters (Echo vouches for Octavia here) and Bellamy doesn’t want Octavia to come so instead he agrees to wake up Miller - another compromise where they make decisions together and work as a team. In S6 we also see in real-time Echo opening up to Bellamy and trusting him enough to let him in to her traumatic past, strengthening their relationship (directly in front of the audience) as Bellamy promises “from now on, we look forward not back” and comforts her with a loving forehead touch and a kiss. 

Bellamy and Echo both come up with the plan to rescue Clarke from Josephine (Echo directly gives Bellamy the go ahead to “go save Clarke” while she stays back and saves the rest of their friends after they set off the EMP taking down the radiation shield). While Bellamy is in the forest, he expresses regret and worry for Echo explicitly two separate times (Bellamy asks Clarke “what about the people I left behind” and Clarke assures him his actions helped to keep Echo specifically (as well as Madi) safe. He has another separate conversation with Octavia about Echo where Octavia reassures him that “Echo’s strong” and “she’ll be okay”). Bellamy also gets more reassurance from Murphy, who informs him that “Echo is in trouble” but he’ll “do what [he] can for her”. He tries to console Bellamy because Bellamy is currently captured and can’t get to her to help. Once Bellamy returns from his mission in the forest, he sees Echo smiling right at him and he sprints into her arms, hugging her desperately and smiling into her shoulder with his eyes closed. Becho is a loving, healthy, mature relationship filled with trust and mutual respect, where both people are treated as equals.

So yeah, no follower spy king dynamic BS. Equal partners in love.

Garbage take #2 

Becho is toxic because he got mad at her and called her a spy, etc.

 Blorkes love to incorrectly imply that Bellamy’s little outburst in 6x04 at the party means that “Becho is toxic”. Well, if you actually watch the rest of the episode you’d see that there was a loving resolution to this “fight” 🙄

As Echo is walking away from Bellamy at the party, Bellamy instantly hangs his head in regret. He then immediately goes to find her and apologizes. He tells her “I’m a jerk. I was taking my feelings about Octavia out on you” and “I’m sorry”. Then we see Echo open up to him about her past and would you look at that! Their romantic relationship is being explicitly developed on screen! The trust! The love! The tears in Bellamy’s eyes as he listens (it hurts him just to hear what she’s been through)! The way he gets up on his bad leg (thanks Clarke) and goes to comfort her, kisses her head before he even sits down and tells her “Everything we’ve been through has brought us here. From now on, we look forward, not back”, fully committed to her and reaffirming that they’re in this together. Then Bellamy touches his forehead to Echo’s, but that’s not close enough so they kiss to be together. Their love is so palpable. 

Show me where this is toxic??? Because it’s not and you can’t just say things. Words have meaning. I don’t understand how anyone can deny that lovingly resolving a misunderstanding only strengthens Becho. Getting in disagreements/arguments is part of every relationship. Becho having one (one-sided) “fight” doesn’t make them toxic. Especially when Bellamy immediately goes to apologize, knows that what he did was wrong and wasn’t fair, and they talk about their feelings and work through it together. That’s like the exact opposite of being toxic.

It's fine not to ship them, but there's no need to be willfully obtuse about canon or what the show presents. Their romantic relationship is not toxic and is arguably the healthiest one on the show.

Garbage take #3

Becho’s development happened off screen, Becho has no development, etc.

In season 5 Bellamy and Echo are revealed to be in a romantic relationship. I’ve already addressed how the ‘no development’ claim is just a blatant lie, so I won’t repeat myself here (you can just read about it in my other post which was previously linked). But let’s talk about why this “argument” is also pretty garbage and is once again made in bad faith.

S5 is THE definitive Becho season (and it absolutely slaps). Blorkes couldn’t accept that Becho were a couple because they intentionally chose to ignore all of their previous development and then had the nerve to (falsely) claim that it all happened off screen. (Which is blatantly untrue, but even if it was true - quick reminder that “lack of development” doesn’t seem to be an issue for Marper - it’s just a problem for Becho 🙄 even though most of S4 was explicitly focused on developing Bellamy and Echo’s relationship while Harper and Monty had sex once and then were instantly a couple...hypocrites 🤷). It’s the flagrant refusal to accept what’s being shown on screen that bothers me. You don’t need to make up lies and spread asinine comments about the characters - you can just acknowledge that the show is going down a route you don’t personally like. You don’t need to twist yourselves into a pretzel to justify your preferred ship. Just be honest about what’s really upsetting you.

I’ll admit that it’s fair to say you wished we could have seen more of their development becoming explicitly romantic, but the ground work is absolutely there and to say there’s NO development and that it all happened off screen (ala Gina the walking plot device who didn’t exist as a character until she showed up as Bellamy’s gf for all of 5 mins before getting killed off) is just simply untrue. And while I’m addressing genuine criticism/complaints, it’s definitely frustrating that we never got to see any flashbacks of the Ring during S5 despite getting to see both Clarke and the Bunker during the 6 year jump. Thankfully, we did eventually get to see Becho’s first kiss flashback (swoon 🥰) in S7 but even without explicitly seeing Spacekru flashbacks during S5, all of Becho and Spacekru’s interactions throughout the season made it perfectly clear how much they all loved each other and were a family. The writing and character interactions easily convey to the audience Spacekru’s closeness and tightknit bond and it was a joy to watch. Because Octavia becomes Blodreina, you need to see at least some of how that happened, so we get bunker flashbacks. And Madi is an entirely new character, so we have to see how she met Clarke. But it’s actually not that big of a leap to get to romantic Becho since it was clearly set up (we also don’t see Memori break up, but again it’s not a big leap to understand why they would given the explanation we got), so Spacekru flashbacks aren’t actually necessary although they would have been greatly appreciated.

Garbage take #4

Bellamy doesn’t care about Echo and abandoned her for Clarke

This is somehow the narrative blorkes like to perpetuate about S6, but again this is completely factually incorrect. If what they are referring to is Bellamy going to get Josephine out of Clarke’s body while Echo stays back and looks after everyone else, it still makes no sense. There is no reading of the show in which this garbage claim has any basis. Bellamy would never willingly leave Echo behind (splitting up to take care of something they previously established they were going to do is not abandoning her 🙄x50).

Here’s what is actually happening in that scene: Echo is the one who tells Bellamy that she will stay and “keep the others safe”, and that he should “go save Clarke”. (keep in mind that saving Clarke actually isn’t the end goal of what they are trying to do here anyway. They are trying to get Josephine’s mind drive to use as leverage with Russell so that their people can have a place to live). Echo told him to go because the alarms were going off and they needed to get Josephine to Gabriel instead of waiting for Jackson to get to them and take out the mind drive. Context fucking matters. Blorkes just love to twist anything onscreen to fit their agenda and it just ends up making them look delusional.

As for “Bellamy not caring about Echo”, show me where????? S6 gave us one of their softest and sweetest scenes (as well as a fireside cuddle) that begs to differ. All of S5 begs to differ. Hell, all of S4 begs to differ too. In fact, the entire goddam show begs to differ. Bellamy “sprint into the arms of my girlfriend Echo” Blake begs to differ. This garbage take has no basis in canon. It’s once again just another bad faith claim by blorkes who are hardcore projecting. Because guess what? Not caring about the other person is exactly the way Clarke feels (or more accurately doesn’t) about Bellamy. Clarke left Bellamy to die in Polis in S5. Clarke physically slapped him in his face. This is canon. That’s THEIR ship, that’s not how Bellamy feels about Echo.

Blorkes like to say Becho don’t have any scenes together, but they’re really just so tilted that Echo gets her own plotlines every season, has relevance to the story, and actually isn’t solely defined by her relationship with Bellamy. She can’t be “just Bellamy’s girlfriend” while blorkes claim that “Becho doesn’t even have any scenes together“. Those are two contradictory statements guys... again, stick to a story please. So we have Schrödinger’s Echo, who is somehow both “just Bellamy’s girlfriend” and also “doesn’t have any scenes with him”. Give me a break. Neither of these statements are true and they’re honestly just dumb. It makes blorkes furious that Echo gets narrative focus each season, so they decide to twist that into “she and Bellamy don’t share any scenes”. But guess what? Queen gets both 👑. She can cuddle by the fire with her little spoon boyfriend and also spread the seeds of revolution while sniping at Russel with her bow and arrow during an execution to save her family and friends.  

Also to the people who think S6 was so good for bellarke

Why didn’t Bellamy actually realize that Clarke wasn’t Clarke. Josephine reveals herself to him, he didn’t figure it out 🥴 (Echo was able to piece it together though, so Clecho Endgame I guess)

At the naming day lantern thing, Clarke tells Bellamy that she “lost sight” of him (supposedly) being important to her. She tells him that he is her family too (which he doesn’t verbalize back oop) and she won’t forget it. How nice that that’s something Clarke COULD forget and that she said that to his face 🥴

Bellamy is oblivious that Josephine is impersonating Clarke, so much so that when he hears her say “chill out” to Gaia, he repeats back “chill out? Happiness looks good on you”. He can’t even tell that’s not Clarke and he actually thinks she looks happy 🥴

Why was Bellamy completely unfazed, not jealous at all, and totally cool with Clarke having sex with Cillian. He even says “I take it you had fun with the doctor?” and Josephine!Clarke says back “let’s just say it’ll be a while until he recovers” and Bellamy couldn’t care less that “Clarke” is talking to him about her sexcapades with other people. There’s no angst or jealousy or longing looks or sadness lsdjsdkf. He’s genuinely happy for her. Then he makes an “ugh TMI” face and turns away. As if the thought of Clarke having sex in general is uncomfortable. Great blarke content, much romance  🥴

When Josephine has control of Clarke’s body she flirts with Murphy (and not Bellamy... a huge L in the metastory)

When Josephine is in Clarke’s mind and has access to all of her innermost thoughts and feelings - there’s no mention of any hidden or repressed romantic feelings for Bellamy (but we do get Josephine taunting Clarke about an actual love interest - “it’s why you cry when you think of Lexa”). Where was all this good blarke content guys?? 😩

The crumbs were extra stale in S6 if you ask me... almost as if the story between Bellamy and Clarke is, in fact, not a romance  🥴 🥴 🥴

ANYWAY

Becho as a couple are emotionally supportive of one another, unshakably stable, communicative, open, and loving. They support each other, they fight for each other, and they absolutely cherish each other. Whoops looks like I accidently wrote a thesis paper (and I’m sure I still managed to leave a bunch of stuff out). Thankfully, the show is the show. And it will always be about canon romantic Becho. And blorkes can die mad about it while we rewatch and enjoy the show to our heart’s content 😊

[jpegjade]

The Blind Date - Spencer

Request: I'd love one where the reader has dated around with no success (terrible tindr dates, disappointing connections through work, etc). Somehow her and Spence cross ways and go out. He treats her really well and looks at her like she's his world. Shes been dying to have a good man look at her like she's precious and melts at it 🥰

hey hi hello! im working though my requests lists faster than i thought lmao. i do have some ideas that i’ll work through but if you have an idea, my asks are still open. 

Warnings: if you hate dad!spencer, then you will hate part of this. But this is fluffy tbh. 

“Hey babe, look what I found!” You said, flipping through a stack of polaroids hidden away in another pointless stack of papers and other items. 

It was time to clean out the attic since all those dusty boxes were really filling up the space. It had been your dream to build a cave up there just for yourself, away from both your husband and your three kids. 

Spencer climbed up the stairs, squinting to see where you were as his eyes adjusted to the terrible lighting.

 “What did you find? Aside from Asbestos and lung disease… Are you sure you want to build something in here? I can’t imagine it being comfortable considering the way the house is made. There’s nothing to cool you down in the summer months and who knows how winter will fare here.” Spencer looked deeply concerned. 

“Spence, honey, would you come and look at this?” You held up the first ever picture you took of him, your first date written on the back of it in metallic sharpie with the words “I really like him…” in your handwriting. 

“‘I really like him?’ What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked, bending over to look over your shoulder at the photo. In the photo, Spencer was giving the most awkward smile, one hand in the air in a semi-wave motion. He looked like his mom asked him for a photo and he was just doing it to make her happy. 

“I wrote this on our first date… I wasn’t even sure about going on the date before that night…” 

**10 years ago**

“Just one date.” JJ said. “You don’t have to love him but I know you’ll like him.” 

Your friend was insistent that she could set you up on the perfect blind date but you weren’t convinced. You went on so many different Bumble dates, had Tinder hook-ups, and even accepted John from marketing’s proposition to take you on a date last week. It ended in you faking food poisoning and having JJ pick you up from the restaurant because you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you didn’t want to hear about his mom’s weird growth that she needed to get checked out. He was supposed to be showing you pictures when you got back to the table but you knew that was going to definitely give you food poisoning. 

“JJ, if this goes south, I’m just going to swear off dating for a while.” You said, agreeing over the phone. 

“Great. He’ll pick you up at 5 pm for dinner and a horror movie tonight.” JJ said, hanging up before you could protest. 

A horror movie for a first date? What did she expect from you? You knew this wasn’t going to go well but you promised her that you would try. 

He was 15 minutes late. He kept you waiting for 15 minutes and for what? He better have a good explanation. In a huff, you swung your front door open to see if his car was even outside and you came face to face with a messy haired brunette with his arm raised to knock. 

“Hi.” He said, arm still frozen in the air. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“What kind of medical doctor shows up late to a first date?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Well, you see, I’m not that kind of doctor but that’s a common assumption. I have three Ph.Ds so you can say I’m more of a specialist in scholarly knowledge and I get to put it into practice with my job as a profiler at the FBI, which is how I got here. Not being in the FBI, per say, but being in the FBI with JJ. As to why I’m late, I was given information that I blindly followed from this other agent, Derek Morgan, which I probably should not have followed.” 

You noticed that Dr. Spencer Reid hadn’t taken a single breath until now. 

“Was that advice to piss me off before you even met me, Doctor not a doctor?” You said, still annoyed. 

You knew JJ had talked about Spencer before when you guys met for breakfast or girls’ night out. You didn’t think about what he looked like until now, though. He was pretty but not so pretty that he knew it. It was more like an understated thing. 

“He said that pissing you off in the beginning would give me a better chance of being able to woo you with my charm and charisma, to quote him exactly. I now realize the flaw in my thinking was that he would be correct and misunderstanding that he was kidding because JJ didn’t tell me you would be so beautiful and while I have a genius IQ, I’ve been told that I lack the social skills needed to accurately assess a situation where I have a beautiful woman staring at me like you want to punch me but also intrigued at the sight of me.” Spencer stopped and realized he still had his arm in the air and dropped it by his side. 

You stared at him quietly. You weren’t sure what to make of him but you did know that you were getting hungry. Your stomach growled loudly. 

“You’re a talker.” You said. “I appreciate that.” 

You turned to lock up the front door before dropping your keys in your bag. Walking to the car, he opened the door for you before you could put your arm out. You looked over at him, stunned. Other guys you “dated” didn’t do anything like that. Yeah, it was a simple thing but it was something that mattered at least a little bit to you.

“Wait.” You said, pulling a small Polaroid camera out of your bag. “Smile for the camera.” 

Spencer smiled, showing all of his teeth, and raised his hand in a wave. You hoped to god that wasn’t his real smile as you snapped the picture. The polaroid came out nicely, his face well lit, and you noticed that in the light, his purple shirt looked nice with the black skinny tie and black pants. 

“I like him” You wrote on the back of the polaroid in metallic marker before getting in the car.

The rest of the night was a breeze. Dinner was filled with intelligent conversation and responses beyond what any of your Tinder “Dates” could comprehend. He ordered the nicest wine on the menu and you nearly choked on your water. So he had money, check. That meant he wasn’t attempting to live off his friends’ couches like the last guy you went on a date with. He let you order whatever you wanted and didn’t care about how much or how little you ate. He didn’t make snide comments about how you should “slow down on the wine.” He didn’t want to make you run out of the building. He made you want more. Of him, of the night, of him. Oh and him. 

The movie was filled with jumpscares and things that were generally uncomfortable to watch but Spencer remained unphased. In fact, he nervously slipped his hand into yours about 20 minutes into the movie and you stayed like that the whole time. When you got particularly scared, he would talk to you in your ear and tell you about the inaccuracies of what was happening, straightening out the facts. As if any of the movie was logical, he kept talking to you like everything could make sense, and it calmed you down. You even found yourself leaning into him by the end of the night. 

When he took you home, that was a bittersweet ending to something you hoped would blossom. 

“Do you...” You started. 

“Can I...” He said at the same time. 

Mumbling a chorus of “you first,” you paused long enough for him to say it. 

“I enjoyed spending time with you tonight. When JJ said it was a blind date with her friend, I didn’t think I would enjoy it as much as I did. I don’t have the best luck with people so I thought I might mess this up too. I can only hope you had as much fun as I had...” He trailed off. 

“I did.” You said a little too quickly. “I mean... I enjoyed your company tonight.” 

There was a weird pause and you waited for him to do it but he kept staring at you. You had to do it, you decided. So you did. You kissed him. And at first he was tentative but then he really got into it. 

“Okay, wow.” You said, finally breaking away. “Do you want to come in? I don’t really want this to end...” You said. 

“Yes.” 

****** 

Spencer was sitting on the floor next to you as you recounted your thoughts on that night to him. Sure, he remembered it but he didn’t remember it like you remembered it and that was what kept him intrigued. 

“Y/n,” Spencer said, looking over at you. “I was 15 minutes late because I was standing at the door practicing my opening line.” 

You looked back at him and you knew the look he was giving you, the one he had given you every time you saw him since that first night. He was staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered. 

“What had you planned to say?” You asked, completely curious. 

“Baby, are you on fire? Because you’ve got me all hot.” He said, looking down at his hand, which you suddenly noticed was holding yours. You were so caught up in telling the story that you didn’t realize what was happening around you. 

You burst out laughing. “Spencer, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard you say.” 

He smiled and looked up at you through his glasses. When your laughter finally died down, you were able to concentrate on him again. He was staring at you in that weird way again. Ever since your first date, he always gave you that look. 

“What?” You said, still smiling. 

“Nothing in particular.” He said, looking over at the staircase. Your 7-year-old was climbing up the stairs. 

“Mommy? Daddy? What’s going on? Did daddy tell a funny joke?” She asked, walking over to sit in her father’s lap. 

You looked over at them as she got comfortable. He kissed the top of her head and went back to staring at you. 

“Yes but it’s a joke you won’t get until you’re much older. And one you won’t hear until you’re much older, if ever.” You said poking her belly. 

“Hey, why don’t we go fix lunch?” Spencer said, putting your daughter back on her feet and standing up. 

“That sounds good.” You said, thinking about how hungry you were. 

Standing up, Spencer stopped you for a second while your daughter climbed down. 

“Can we come back up here once the kids are asleep and go through more of those photos? I remember each one you’ve taken of me but I want to know why. You never explain, even now.” He pulled you into a tight hug. 

“Sure. I have enough stories to fill hours of dates.” 

“You know I loved you since that first photo, right?” He said, kissing your cheek. 

“Really? You’ll have to tell me about your version of some of the dates one day.”

_____________

Okay we had a flashback sequence for this one. i tried to keep it simple so there wasn’t a lot of flashing back and forth. I wanted to make that as long as possible bc idk if anyone wants more, honestly. 

ANYWAY HELLO im so sorry for my longass one-shots

Tags: 

@winchestertardis

@ancailinaerach

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Can you do a little text with your opinion about the Volturi members? What you like and dislike, they personality, they story... Would be interesting! Kissessss and have a great day! 💜

Imma have a little fun and throw the very young me into the mix to. Let's see child me vs adult me's opinions on the Volturiiii.

Fun fact: I wasn't team Volturi until I was like fifteen. Before that I was team edward... I don't want to talk about that 🤔😒

Also I'm a sucker for villains. If it isn't obvious already, I like the villains more than the heroes. (We all love a bad boy though, don't we?--- TIK TOK NOW IS NOT THE TIMEE.)

So everything i say is just my opinion and should be taken just as that.

Aro: Younger me was like "this...is a terrible person. There really is no need to expand on this." However adult me has been like "GUYS this guy is possibly the SCARIEST character. This man rips off heads AND SMILES ABOUT IT." He gives me child snatcher vibes (from the movies in particular). I thoroughly enjoy the power hungry persona. He's really fitting to be the puppeteer behind the Volturi. Even if he makes it seem it's a group effort with himself, Marcus and Caius. Realistically, Aro gets what he wants and isn't afraid to do what it takes to get it...sorry Didyme. What's even darker about it, WHICH I LOVE, is that he isn't heartless. Smeyer wrote that Aro genuinely loved his sister. It's all good to have a character that's a evil heartless monster but what's more terrifying to me is the ability for someone to do evil despite their love and emotions. It doesn't hold them back and that's what I find particularly frightening now that child me didn't comprehend. Micheal Sheen, from what I remember of his interview years ago, played on the idea that vampires of Aro's age kinda begin to lose their mind. Which, hell freaking yes. However there is one thing I hate for Aro's character that happened in the movies. Breaking dawn part 2. That fucking laugh. Don't get me wrong, hilarious. I can't not laugh but for his character I felt it was too 'hey hey I'm a crazy man hehe'. It was a but too much, even for an eccentric Aro. However, I'm not to mad at it because again, it was funny to watch. I thoroughly enjoy the ‘friendship’ Aro and Carlisle share and i love that it is ‘maintained’ throughout the books. I think it’s just a really nice detail. (I love lore. I am a sucker for it.) The one thing that didnt sit right with me is Aro marrying someone so that he wasnt the alone one whilst his co-leaders were very much in love? Was a little off for me but i suppose that just adds to the character.

Caius: child me would shrink into the seat because what did I do to this man? High key still think I wouldn't want to be Caius' child because imagine doing something wrong and you get that glare? No thank you! Scary angry man. As an adult... "He's an angry boi but...DAYUM WHY IS HE SUDDENLY SO HOT?" Just...don't get angry with me. You'll get annoying real quick and you're too pretty for that. I enjoy the taking-no-shit attitude he has but felt it could have been a little more prominent in BDP2 where Aro asks if Caius' is challenging him. I full believe Caius to an extend would be like "yes, yes I am. Don't be an idiot Aro. Use that braincell!" Which is why I adore the meme vibes I see every now and then of Caius hating Carlisle because why does Aro love that blonde so much? CAIUS HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT LOYAL-- Anyways, I can totally get why Aro wants him on his team. Caius is so angry and has so much hatred that he’s a good asset to the coven, even if not having a special ability.I do find it hard to imagine that Caius is a century older than Aro though. Although I cant picture him over forty years old lol. Although i do personally enjoy the whole Caius x Athenodora route. IT’S TRUE LOVE! Okay so maybe thats a little dramatic but its better than Aro’s lmao.

Marcus: movie Marcus is absolutely not nineteen years old and that's just a fact. If anything, he's the forty year old one lmao. Child me couldn't care about this man. He was the man who said nothing and slumped on a throne. That was Marcus. That was his character summed up. Then adult me rolled in and OMG NO DON'T DO THIS TO THIS SWEET MAN. LET HIM BE IN LOVE. As an adult i definitely became more attached. I feel like i was too young back then to get why Marcus was in the Volturi. He seemed very out of place and like a filler co-leader more than anything. However as i’ve gotten older (and written for him), I recognised that's the point. That’s Marcus’ evident grief. He isn’t there by choice and losing Didyme caused him to fall out of line with the coven. He’s lost point or purpose. Almost like its become meaningless because the love of his life was gone and he couldn't save her.So what was the aims of the Volturi to protect vampire kind when they couldn’t protect their own? He couldnt protect her. I had never heard of anything like bond identification and once i had- i was shook, like it became clear why he had been so necessary in the first place. That really is handy to understand everyones bonds in a coven, he could direct Chelsea and the two alone could destroy covens by bonds alone. Marcus makes the Volturi more realistic in a lot of ways. Like in a family, there is the happy times, goofy people like Felix, the twins representing a close bond. Afton and Chelsea, love that cant be divided. The list really goes on. Marcus represents love and heartbreak, pain, loss grief, the sad moments every family goes through. In that way he makes the coven seem less invincible, a group of people who at the end of the day, have their own weaknesses and immortality doesn’t mean a perfect existence. Especially when, in my opinion, Bella fantasized about immortality and how perfect it would be. Even after her change, she waited for her happy ending because that was somehow guaranteed in some level. Which in the end, she got but not everyone gets that happy ending we all want. I also personally think Marcus is the most feeling of the Volturi, despite being apathetic. A result of heartbreak. It’s shown he can still feel more in his own ways when he voted against Renesmee being destroyed. Furthermore, he advocated that vampire hybrids were a lot like vampires. He made that relation openly before anyone. Its almost as though losing Didyme helped him value a life?

Jane and Alec: Child me thought these two were  badass...and that still remains in my adult life. It’s always been uncomfortable to me that someone so young is so sadistic and powerful. Jane is the older twin with the ability of pain illusion...yikes. Her ability was evident in her human life along with Alec’s. His gift is sensory deprivation and these two were my favourites in the whole Saga. Still kind of are if im honest. I thoroughly enjoy the twins backstory. It has the most detail. I have a tag for the twins. Canon!twins is the tag for the twins in their book age. Unless this tag is present, the twins have been aged up :). They are very much canon but I put a bit more emphasis on tantrums. If they get angry, they both have tantrums. So whilst (unless tagged) they aren't children they can be very childish and these tantrums are pretty deadly. They’re also very possessive? I dont even know if thats the right word i’m looking for in all honesty. Lets say they get very attached if they like you. These two are probably the most secluded out of the whole Volturi.

Felix: Felix! High ranking guard due to strength and speed. I am a major supporter of Felix being a gladiator when he was human. He as a lighter grey cloak meaning he isn’t as high ranked but is so good at what he does that he’s been kept for centuries...and a lot of them. Personality? FINALLY, WE’VE GOT ONE WITH PERSONALITY!! (Im writing these out of order and i’ve just finished a chunk of Volturi members who have personalities as invisible as Afton.) Flirtatious and Light hearted, we love flirtatious and light hearted! Basically a comedian! Helllll yes, keep it going! Extremely vicious and highly aggressive? You know what? I still like it. He wouldn’t be a Volturi without a dark side. Cold blooded murderer. Yes. 10/10. Finally, someone Smeyer seems to actually care about. He flirted with Bella a couple of times in the books and i was FOR IT ALL THE WAY. I was very sad i saw none of it in the movies but im used to heartbreak by now. Im in this fandom after all. We were robbed of a lot. Strongest vampire in the world? I believe you, he’s also a hecking treeeeee. HE DO BE A TALL BOI. He actually makes Demetri look small and that’s still hilarious to me. Demetri is actually tall. However, if it isnt obvious we clearly traded backstory for personality. I cant get both smh. So...as i said before I fully believe Felix was a gladiator back in the day, hence his physique and height and excellent fighting abilities he has even as a vampire but then it kind of ends. I will say from the dawn of time, i don’t think Felix is the most academic man, just because of his era. I also think majority of the Volturi couldn’t read of write in their human lives and had to learn much older, most learning as vampires. Felix was one of these vampires, Although even now he isnt the most great at it. Then a wonderful writer known as @wallwriterstuff included it and now it’s canon in my eyes. I fully believe Felix is a slow reader and writing isn’t his strong suit either. Wallwriter also includes the possibility that Felix could be dyslexic which im all for too. For a very long time i’ve considered writing a dyslexic reader with the Volturi but have always hesitated because i don’t have it and wouldn’t want to upset someone for any misunderstandings or inaccuracies. However what i will say is that i think vampires would be the most understanding to humans with dyslexia. Learning things like that in later development or as an adult is difficult and they wouldnt think any less of you for struggling with reading, writing, numeracy- you name it. You’ll probably find they’re with you in the struggle at least half of the time. He’s also the goofball of the Volturi, even though he’s not really a goofball in our eyes, he’s the closest to a goofball out of the whole Volturi ...Emmett beats him in the Goofball wars.

Demetri: Oh yeah, it's Demetri's turn! So Demetri was previously in Amun's coven. When Chelsea gave him the old razzle dazzle...I've said Chelsea's gift so many times at this point it's getting old. I have two characters left after Demetri 😂😂 Anyway, with that Demetri was like "welp, I'm in the Volturi now." And now that they had a better tracker the previous one was kicked out. He isn’t much of a talker, polite and formal. He’s elegant (more graceful than i could ever be) and charming...yeah he is, you can say that AGAIN. He is also very calm, when next to Felix, i think everyone is calm but you know, we’ll say he’s a very calm person. I like how he was originally in the Egyptian coven with Amun. Given Amun’s goals this a pretty nice detail. NOW LETS GO TO MY VERSION. He’s very charming, calm, polite, formal and even a lil’ but quiet, i kept him pretty canon because he actually had a description to go on :))))))))))  Moving on. Demetri can be a very successful flirt when he wants to be and does have a Casanova reputation. However beyond the charming Volturi guard who has a brutal side like the rest of them, he has a chewy centre, deep down. I added that he had a child in his human life, one he doesn’t remember and very few people know about. He remembers that they died of an illness very young (around six?) but can’t remember what they look like. For that reason he doesn’t like talking about his child, he feels awful he doesn’t remember them and the loss still hits a pang in his chest. 

Heidi: Alright im ready for this one! Child me didn’t necessarily enjoy Heidi? I was rather passive about her. It was all ‘pretty vampire used for her looks’ in my eyes back then and i was never comfortable with that. I’ll get into my take on Heidi in a moment, roll on the backstory!  So Heidi knew Victoria as they used to be coven mates and we’re going to continue on as though Heidi didn’t care when she was killed? Like...its genuinely a burning question in my mind! If she didn't care, could that show the extent of Chelsea’s power in action!? (can we tell im enthusiastic about this coven yet?) It’s quite smart to have someone lure in prey. I wont lie, Heidi has quite the badass role in the coven. I wouldn't have thought about that I reckon. I’ve always thought that showed a kind of superiority. Oh you guys need to hunt your prey? pfft, ours literally comes to us. Her backstory really starts with Heidi being mistreated in her human life...a common theme Smeyer has. It can get old- i wont lie but when i give it some thought it kind of makes sense. Rosalie said it herself in eclipse, if any one of them had their happy ending, they’d be six feet under but i’d love a little bit more creativity. I could go on about how male vampires ended up being changed in comparison to female vampires but i’ll swiftly move on because that’s a whole other thing alone. Heidi was changed out of pity. (Which kinda infuriates me just to type, a pity change? Really? Really Hilda? we’ll see why it annoys me when i explain my take on Heidi.) Heidi was happy in her coven with Hilda, Victoria etc, which is hell yes. We love that. This is around the time she discovered her gift. Vampires were attracted to her and humans fell prey to her easily. Yup okay. I’ll take that. After a newborn vampire caused ‘too much attention’ Aro spared Heidi and Chelsea used her gift on Heidi. Nice, very nice aaaaand that’s where it stops and im left hanging.  Personality time with Smeyer! Lets goooo.  From what i remember and can find- she didn’t fucking have one. Apparently being pretty is enough for everyone.  Which in hindsight, fair enough on a human Bella’s perspective, its literally Heidi’s gift to lure you in no matter what. She could tell you she’s a serial killer (and technically is lmao) and is about to sell your kidneys on the black market as to which you’ll be like ‘sign me the fuck up, want my liver too? Here, let me lie on the table for you. I’m down.’ without even realising what just happened. But even beyond that...Heidi has no personality traits mentioned. In New Moon she appears to be a little flirty which im all for, why the hell not? But...thats it? Thats all I get? Then we get into fanfictions, because i read them growing up. Heidi was depicted as flirtatious, promiscuous and then it varied between manipulative or she wasnt very smart. Which i’m knocking absolutely no one for. I think you can get a badass character who is incredibly dumb. I think all characters are actually valid whether they’re a genius or flat out dumb. I love them all. However it never really sat with me. I was never quite satisfied which i was fine with until i started writing for myself. That’s when i knew i’d have to really think about what my version of Heidi would be or i’d never be happy with my work. That and you also begin to fill in the blanks? The more you write the more you flesh out a character for yourself and so that rolls into my version of Heidi! So for my Heidi, she often gets the same trope of ‘she’s pretty and rich, those types of girls have easy lives who always had everything given to them.’ Then when it’s discovered she didn’t have a good human life. It turns to the next assumption of ‘oh she’s pretty and stupid enough to be used and manipulated’. In a lot of ways, that’s what Heidi wants everyone to think. Underestimate her, please, its all the easier to manipulate you if you do.  She’s actually very smart and her rough human life made her more tough and intelligent. She’s very manipulative and yes she’s very flirty. You can look but you cant touch! She enjoys the attention her beauty gets her but if only these people would care more about what she’s like as a person. She’s not a barbie doll she will play you if she needs to. The only one who’s actually gotten far enough to sleep with Heidi is Demetri and even then the two don’t see each other romantically. They’re good friends who thinks the other is very attractive but that's where it ends. They’re basically friends with benefits some times lmao. However, Demetri got that far because he see’s the intellect Heidi actually has and acknowledges it. He thinks shes a queen who should be treated as such. She could take anything she wanted, a storm that people can only hope to survive in one piece.  Secretly she enjoys a family setting. Whilst she never really wanted children (especially when she was expected to when human), she couldn't help but melt inside seeing little human children with their loving parents. She wants that for all children. Whether that's because she lacked such affection growing up, no one knows. She’s also a really good friend, you bet she’ll have your back. Crappy ex? Well we’ll show them, wont we (Y/N)? She’ll be a bitch and enjoy every second of it. She also loves the single life, believe it or not, you’ll have more difficulty getting Heidi to settle down than you would Demetri which speaks volumes.  So yeah, move past her gift and really get to know her and you might have a very good friend.  I also don’t see Heidi having a preference between male or females and that’s in all honesty. Times have changed and if she is attracted to another female then she wont be ashamed of it. She never has been (Demetri was the first to figure that out, Felix may be the last.) Even when the times weren’t approving of different sexualities, she didn't care. She will flirt with you and find it ridiculously cute if you get flustered.

Sulpicia: Sulpicia was an orphan which i used to develop my own version of her. Sulpicia grew to love Aro which im on the fence about but yup, i’ll take it. You’ll see what happens with my version in a bit lmao. and that’s where it stops. I get no personality again but do you know what we do in this fandom? We create one and fill in the blanks baby! So i write Sulpicia very materialistic and vain, she’s most snobbish of the wives and due to the other two, also considered the meaner one. She didnt have such things as a child being an orphan so when she got the opportunity to have it-she jumped. She isnt easily impressed and married Aro not for love but for immortality, money and status. (He’s only married you for your money, princess Jasmine! HE ONLY MARRIED YOU FOR YOUR MONEY! Damn it tik tok, but make it princess Aro) Which works well, because Aro doesnt necessarily love her either, he just wanted a mate so he wasnt the odd one out.He literally created her because he was like “Yup, you’ll do.” The two recognised they made a great team and image so they kinda grew to love each other? A little bit? Sure we’ll say its love...sorta. ANYWAY, It’s a highlight to Sulpicia being locked in that tower where she doesnt need to see Aro every little moment, it’s better than having a husband who she’d need to see everyday. ...Yeah my Sulpicia is something else lmao.

Athenodora:  Athenodora is one of the oldest vampires in existence which kinda has me shook but I'll take it. She met Caius when he was fleeing from the Romanians, the two travelled together until they met Aro. Whilst on their nomadic travels they seemingly became mates. That's all we know about that. As to which the Volturi coven was made. Athenodora is completely loyal to Caius as well as highly dependent on him and I think that's very realistic given her circumstances. That's where their story ends...maybe for Smeyer but not for me! 😁 So I picture Caius and Athenodora being different sides of the same coin. Athenodora really mellows Caius, she is no where near is violent and sadistic as he is but due to her unwavering loyalty and dependency, she doesn't feel inclination to go against him...also because of Chelsea and Corin but I've said that so many times in this post I think we get the point. I think she's actually more gentle and soft spoken but that being said. She is very reserved and if she were to be angered she'd very much change. She could cut you down with words alone. Caius loves it. However beyond this is someone who is very maternal. Caius would appreciate it more if the two had children but instead it has created empathy. Caius doesn't want that when he can rip their head off. She struggles a little more with the 'no second chances' and that's another reason why Caius keeps her locked away and away from it. These two love each other more than words can describe. After being through so much with someone, the love can only grow. The two would happily risk their life for the other. Caius is saddened that he could never give her the family she wanted. He knows that to this day, Athenodora tries to reign in that side of her. He's a very supportive husband who's very different around his wife. He's much more tolerant, and angry. Simply more at ease. If anything happened to Athenodora, to put it simply...there would be hell to pay.

Didyme: Married to Marcus and Aro’s biological sister. Cute, me likely, keepy going. Her gift was happiness induction. VERY ADORABLE- Dont be as menacing as your brother...please. She was born several years after Aro and was changed by Aro ten and a half years after he was turned. (Dont tease me with all this lore Smeyer, I know what you’re gonna do) Aro was deeply disappointed her gift was just to make people happy- its okay Didyme, we love you. Aro is just...Aro. Her gift made many fall in love with her and its so freaking cute i CANT- but she only felt the same feelings for Marcus. MY HEART IS SO WARMMMM. Unfortunately they were so happy together that they lost interest in anything Volturi and were ready to leave. (Uh oh.) Aro, being the sneaky fellow he is, was like “I’m really happy for y’all of course you can leave. I love you my babies. My best friend and my sisterrrrrrr, I am the captain of this SHIP.” but was actually like “wait, no, no, no, not my Marcus. D-D-Did-Didyme I NEED him.” Think Sid the Sloth from ice age in the first movie when Sid really wants the baby. So this man is like...gonna have to do it to em and murder. He killed Didyme secretly (dunno how he pulled the secret part off- like i know how he did it but how did no one hear or see anything or even suspect anything IT WAS LITERAL FRIENDLY FIRE but we love the drama so continue.) Ironically enough she was very close with Aro and the two actually did love each other, Aro is just...murderous apparently, to the extent that even his sister isnt safe. And that’s it. That’s Didyme. Which im like...alright Smeyer i see you. I like this and expanded on this with my Didyme.  i get the vibes that Didyme is the most innocent and kind of all the Volturi. Losing her meant losing the consciousness within the Volturi making them all the more ruthless because there was no one to say. “Guys, maybe lets rethink this? and quickly because i cant get Caius to put down the torch thats currently on fire.” Losing Didyme made Marcus mostly become passive and would rarely stop anything that happened. I often wonder if that provoked a lot of guilt for Marcus later on. (However thats a spoiler for something im currently writing...;) ) I also think of her as a major daydreamer and the most soft, gentle person anyone will ever meet. Like its difficult not to like her despite being in the Volturi, even the Romanians would have struggled if they met her. So in the long run...i hate nothing about Didyme, only find more and more love lmao.

Corin: So im going to be honest and tell you i have no idea what Corin would look like. I’ve got nothing and when i was younger i wasnt even sure if Corin was male or female. Like a lot of these names, i had never heard of the name ‘Corin’. I dont write for her as of yet because im still trying to figure her out. I think she’s quite quiet, she lets her gift do most of the work for her in keeping the wives, Chelsea and Caius when he doesnt get to go on a rampage, content. She was brought in also after Didyme died but Marcus refused her gift.That’s all i’ve got for her. Her gift is amazing, pretty underrated in my personal opinion since like Chelsea, she really helps keep the Volturi unified but other than that, I dont have much to say about her. :(

Afton:  Another character i basically filled the blanks in for myself. So what we’re told is that he’s Chelsea’s mate and has the ability to disappear . Whilst thats a pretty cool trick...the volturi dont necessarily need it but they have to keep Chelsea happy and she demands that Afton stays so welcome to the family Afton! I also recently learned that if you hide behind Afton and he goes invisible infront of an opponent, you too will also be invisible. I figure that is until the opponent moves and basically changes their perspective but i could be wrong with that last part. That’s all we get so time for my unnecessary input!  SO AFTON IS A TOTAL SWEETHEART. He’s very shy but polite. This is a complete opposite to his mate Chelsea. It’s actually what she liked about him. At first is was just be flirtatious to the shy vampire but when she actually got to know him... she fell hard. It was also Chelsea who had made the first move since Afton was so shy. Of course she’d never say so and Afton would never want to embarrass her so that was never really disclosed to anyone who wasn’t around at that time. She brings Afton out of his shell a lot and it wasn’t long before the two were mates. Chelsea is the light of his life. Hands down. He puts up with a lot for her and is happy to do so. She could ask anything of him and he’d do it and she doesn’t even need to use her gift. He buys are anything she wants almost instantly. He cant help but adore her passionate personality, like how hooked she can get on era’s such as the 1920′s, her love for jazz music and her ability to gush on and on about anything. The two had what the other lacked and that made them an excellent team. I love their relationship. I cant help it. However, as i said before Afton is very shy and tends to keep to himself. Sadly that, paired with Chelsea’s demand to keep him in the Volturi has left Afton a little bit outcasted. All the other permanent guards were wanted and considered important whilst Afton...not so much. Although that isn’t to say the other guards are mean to him or anything. They aren’t! (Except the twins who are...the twins.) Felix and Demetri tried to include him a lot but it was very difficult to break him out of his shell. That doesn’t mean to say they wont invite Afton when he’s around. Chelsea always appreciates their efforts. Afton is notably good friends with Santiago, who often preferred solitude as well. 

(Guard to the left is who I imagine Afton is)

Chelsea: So supposedly Chelsea’s original name is Charmion? When i was younger i didnt really care much about her. I only really knew her gift and that she was the reason Afton was kept in the Volturi, since they were mates. From what im aware Chelsea basically wasnt in the movies/not identified. There wasnt much said about her in the books either. So since then i’ve kind of developed my own persona of Chelsea that could be completely inaccurate to canon but canon was my foundations with characters like these. She was always a red head in my eyes with ringlets, a copper kind of red head. I also pictured her to be small. However the newest addition to her character would have to be the mid-Atlantic accent. I blame Poppy Hill for this one. That character screamed Chelsea to me. She was very close to how i imagine Chelsea to be. So now Chelsea has an accent that i have no clue how she managed to maintain being in Italy so long and being born in Greece. LMAO. We’ll say she was very attached to that time. However, I think the time she joined the Volturi was actually very good for the story. She first came around just after Marcus had lost Didyme and Aro had her use her ability to keep Marcus in the coven. it’s really cool how she could really make or break the coven. Although, Aro was smart enough to not fully rely on her, using Corin’s ability on Chelsea to make sure she’d be happy and stay within the Volturi. Thats where the information on Chelsea really ends Over the years Chelsea has appeared in my writing and so beyond this point, Chelsea’s character is only my depiction.  I figure Chelsea is a talker, like she can talk her way in and out of situations with ease. She enjoys being manipulated and even more so, being needed.Much like her gift, she gets under people’s skin- not in terms that she’s annoying but more so she can figure out people very well. Her mate is the complete opposite and so she often speaks on the behalf of them. Chelsea is very social and charismatic. She along with Heidi are the only two Volturi members who will be out and interacting with humans if necessary. Heidi for her ability but Chelsea purely for her social skills. She’s also the most interested in human culture. She loves the parties- the 1920′s being her favourite era in terms of fashion. She has no issue changing her name and has done so multiple times when the names run out of fashion.It’s like playing dress up! I’d actually love to write more about her. I’ve really grown to love her character, even if i filled in some blanks for myself. I think she and Afton’s relationship is one of the best, up there with Carlisle and Esme- despite the two being very different. It’s a part of their dynamic!

(I always imagined Chelsea to be a red head but Poppy Hill from THOHH is a very close depiction to Chelsea in my eyes)

Renata: A stressed little bean that lives on stress. I remember thinking when i was younger she was the big threat since she was Aro’s shield but now that im older i see...a stressed little five foot bean. I have no idea what she looks like but always imagine her dark hair tied in a tight bun, looking almost painful. Another who wears heels, like Heidi but she is very rigid just as she has been described. Her uncle is a bit of an ass considering he begged her to go with the Volturi so there wouldn’t be a threat. Dude, can you not just...hand over your niece? At least hesitate! Just like that, thanks to Chelsea, she’d give her life to protect Aro and...I have nothing else. Yes it does drive me mad that there are two named guards i know next to nothing about.

Santiago:So what’s known about Santiago is that he doesn’t actually have an ability. He’s just very good at battle techniques and fighting which is why he’s kept around. If they need fighters, they’re top three are Felix, Demetri and Santiago...in that order. Santiago is also much faster than a regular vampire (as shown in breaking dawn part 2- he caught up to Jacob and Renesmee quite fast despite the two having a running start and wolves supposedly being very fast- much like a vampire) That’s all we know of him so then i got in there and this is how I write Santiago. I gave him the background of coming from a superstitious family. Like he would be told tales of demons and witches growing up as well as things like voodoo. He knew an awful lot of urban legends and whilst he stopped believing in the bad luck his family taught him, he still held interest and couldn’t help the instinct of unease when witnessing such things as rituals. It’s ironic really. However Santiago always deems that humans have it all wrong. These forces are beyond human understanding and shouldn’t be played with. In that way, perhaps Santiago still has some belief in things such as superstition. He’s very secretive about it and would never clarify it for you. Santiago keeps to himself and can be quite standoffish. He can also be blunt even if it’s insulting- he doesn’t tend to care. Although he and Afton became quite good friends since the Afton was an outcast and Santiago didn’t enjoy large groups, or most people in general.