#Campaign for Life Gala

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Five

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Starting to realize I need to slow down, things are really getting complicated and I want everything to be included. Including proper warnings and important plot details and to really keep things more polished.

A/N: Also, going through the doubts on my writing, but we is gonna persevere, y’all. I’m going to take some time to focus on Obsessions.

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior, Kidnapping, Vomiting, Slight Stalking

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

After running Date’s life, Tim starts to investigate Reader full throttle. Before it was just something he did to relax between cases when he couldn’t shut off his brain. Now, he didn’t want to miss anything. Not a single detail. He’d also been having trouble digging up an information on reader’s small town.

Apparently, they weren’t up to date on their technology. Can’t hack computers for information if the computers don’t exist. Still, it was nice to find out about Reader’s childhood. (Making notes for Bruce to add certain flora and fauna to the Manor’s garden and looking up any restaurants in Gotham that he could possibly take Reader too. You know, as friends.) But, Tim was nothing if not stubborn.

Reader, having a bit of whiplash from Dick’s comforting and sudden departure starts trying to fill their time by hanging out with Cassandra, Duke, and/or Stephanie.

They also call back home informing Nana about the Date incident. Surprisingly enough, Nana was sympathetic. (Though Reader couldn’t help thinking she was using that condescending small town sarcasm. Maybe they’d just been in Gotham for too long?) Regardless, Nana lends a comforting ear and even talks about BFF and their older brother, Childhood Crush, to Reader in an attempt to distract them. Telling them what the two have been up to. (How much they miss you. They can’t wait for you to come home visit.)

Reader, however, is a tad more concerned with Younger Brother. Making sure to ask how he is fairing and if he could come visit them in Gotham for a bit. Just to give Nana and Grand Daddy a much needed break since their age is catching up with them. (Aren’t you so sweet? Caring so much for your real family.)

But, Nana brushes reader off. No need, he’s been hanging out with Childhood Crush and BFF. They’ve really taken him under their wing. (They’d make great a great partners. Don’t you think, dear?) It does arouse Reader’s suspicions, but when they call their Younger Brother, he sounds… fine… Said he was having more fun with BFF than Childhood Crush, but that’s a given. (BFF knows Reader best, and won’t let anything happen to him or Reader.) They’re probably overthinking things about things back home. (That pang of homesickness just doesn’t seem to go away.)

At school, however, things were changing.

Damian wasn’t lying to himself about scaring off Reader’s friends. A few started to avoid Reader suddenly. But, a few, mostly the wealthier ones, stayed close. Not at all bothered by Damian’s sudden campaign. Some even introducing Reader to their closer circles.

Reader’s happy to have more friends, but the loss of Date and Reader’s more down to earth friends weighed on them. Reader’s new group felt like an isolated bubble cage that encloses tightly around them (and wouldn’t let them go.)

Bruce has been pretty strict about who Reader spends time with since the gala. But, Reader, going stir crazy when Cass, Steph, and Duke, respectively, are to busy (have patrol and missions), decides to ask Barbara if they can hang out with her. (A stranger is better than nothing.)

Tim’s seems to be too busy with whatever he’s doing. (He’s technically spending time on Reader, rather than with Reader.) Reader loves Alfred, but they’re always helping him cook. Dick’s gone off on some errand in Buldhaven or Gotham (Reader can’t remember, they’re a bit annoyed by how finicky he can be with giving Reader attention.). Jason might actually choke reader if they suggest hanging out. And, Reader is still pissed at Damian for being a rude little shit (Plus, they suspect he has something to do with their friends leaving them. They just can’t prove it.)

Barbara agrees to bring Reader to work with her at the Gotham City Library. Fully expecting Reader to mostly stay to themselves or possibly sneak off. (As members of the family are prone to do.) She is pleasantly surprised that Reader actually tends to stay by her side. Of course, Reader goes and gets a few books to curl up with. But, they quietly chat with Barbara, occasionally assisting with task, and mostly just enjoy silent companionship.

Reader doesn’t expect Barbara to entertain them, they can entertain themselves. They just don’t want to be alone at the moment. (Reader hates being alone when they’re sad. Hate. Hate. Hates it.) Barbara finds the silent and soft companionship to be a balm for the soul, so to speak. There’s no pressure. No duty. Just companionship. (It’s eases her mind how Reader is willing to stay safe. They’re not being dramatic or doing something foolish. I can get used to this.)

After the day is over, Barbara reports how Reader behaved back to Bruce. (Didn’t wander, stayed close by, wasn’t rude or sarcastic. That Gala had to have been a fluke. It has to be those horrible friends of Reader’s corrupting them.) If anything, it builds a level of trust with Bruce that Reader can be cautious and they won’t have to worry about them leaving. (Running away. Ha!)

Bruce decides Reader deserves a little more trust. (He wants to spoil his child.) Giving them more leeway to spend time in Gotham. But, only with members of the family. Which would be fine, if they were available. There’s, unfortunately, been an Arkham Breakout.

The entire family is on high alert for the next few days, especially since Joker escaped this time. (Hell, no. The family isn’t risking it. They won’t allow it. If Joker does something to Reader he’s dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Batman won’t stop anyone for killing him this time if he dares.) The family prioritize his capture, even recruiting the Gotham Sirens and the Superfamily to get the job done. It’s probably the fastest Joker’s ever been caught. (Joker is definitely pissed over the matter. And, will be making it everyone’s problem next time he gets out. What are you protecting Batsy? What are you trying to hide from me? Are we not friends?

Reader gets a brief introduction to Clark Kent during this ordeal. Before, Reader had only seen Conner and Jon around the manor hanging out with Damian and Tim respectively. (Conner would always try to flirt, which annoyed Reader. And, Jon was avoid on principle of being near Damian. Though, Reader was nice if they caught him alone in the manor. Which was growing more frequent recently.)

Clark is charmed, surprised by the Reader having grown up in a Smalltown. For Reader, it’s nice to meet someone who understands the longing for simplicity. Though Clark personally felt like he had something bigger to achieve outside of his town. Still they appreciate each other’s mindset. (Clark also wouldn’t mind inviting Reader out to the Kent farm. It would be fun to annoy Bruce. Plus, Reader is clearly struggling in Gotham. He’s not wrong.)

With Joker locked up, the family relaxes… Somewhat. They still have the rest of the rouge gallery to catch and have to work overtime to do it. Hardly any of them are seen outside the Batcave, which Reader is eighty-four percent certain is in the library.

Reader spends a lot of time pacing the halls. Looking at the paintings and furniture. It’s lonely. It’s like living in a house that’s haunted by ghost you’re supposed to know, but don’t. (If I have to live in a house haunted by ghost, I’d rather be haunted by the ones that loved me. I wanna go home. I want Momma and Daddy. I hate being alone. I hate it here.)

Stephanie, however, having made plans with Reader, finally gets a chance to take them out into Gotham. It takes a nearly a week, but they do manage to get out into the city together. Stephanie showing Reader all her favorite sights, pointing out landmarks and fun things. It’s possibly the funnest day Reader’s had since coming to Gotham. Arcades, Ice Skating, food trucks, street performers, it’s all new and exciting.

Nothing good last in Reader’s life it seems.

In broad daylight, Reader is forcefully grabbed and thrown into the back of a truck.

There’s a massive down side to being Bruce Wayne’s child. You easily get taken hostage and held for ransom.

Stephanie is helpless. She can only watch it happen too far away to make it to Reader in time. The horror and fear on Reader’s face made her stomach turn violently.

She immediately called Barbara to start tracking the vehicle and the thugs, sending an alert out to the entire family.

Once done she couldn’t stop herself from letting the disgust and shame bubble from her gut out on to the pavement. Just the thought of Reader being hurt making her physically ill. (Give them back. How dare they take what’s mine? It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left them alone. They’re helpless without me.)

[woodland-gremlin]

Meeting the Kids

Today was the day that Dick’s boyfriend, Danny, would be introducing him to his three kids. He has heard so much about the gremlin trio that he could recite how Danny adopted them and what they are like forwards and backwards in his sleep at this point. And as he fidgeted outside of his boyfriend’s apartment in Fawcett that was exactly what he did.

Ellie is Danny’s biological daughter that was officially put under his guardianship when he was emancipated at 17, but unofficially he has been watching over her for much longer. She is the oldest of the three, being 11. Exploring and causing untold amounts of chaos, usually with her two younger brothers, is her bread and butter in life. Will not hesitate to turn that controlled chaos onto you if you hurt her family, if the stories of what she does to her sperm donor is an indication. Tales of all the places he has traveled when he was in the circus and stress he has caused Bruce at galas are his best bet to not getting pelted with glitter the moment he walks in the door.

Billy is the most recent addition to the family after living on the streets for the last few years. He is the middle child at 10 years old. Being forced into foster care, which is a death sentence according to Jason, and living on the streets, which is apparently better than foster care (again according to Jason), has made him vary of adults. The only reason he trusted Danny enough to be adopted, was through a long campaign of food, a safe place to sleep that he could leave at any time, the other kids, and a few private emotional moments. From the stories he is a sweet kid whose swearing could make a sailor blush. He brought some of Alfred’s homemade food and stories of Jason for him.

Damian was taken in 6 years ago when Danny was 19. His birth family was in a cult, raising him as its heir before trying to sacrifice him to some higher being, when Danny found him. Even with the ruff start he is very in touch with his home country’s culture, Danny even getting in touch with people from his culture to teach the whole family so they can better understand and respect it. He is the youngest of the trio at 9 and loves animals. He has also seemingly inherited Danny’s adoption tendencies when it comes to said animals. He is also the most likely to challenge him to a duel for Danny’s honor, he does it to every potential partner of Danny's, much less one actually dating him. Mentions of Batcow while accepting said duel should help Damian at least tolerate him.

All three of them are the stars of Danny’s life. Dick has heard all about the bullshit Danny gets for being a father of three, two which are in the double digits, at 25 and how protective the Nightingale family is of each other. And that isn’t even counting his older sister, who he has met over the phone, and all the others claimed extended family. How often Danny has broken up with his partners over the kids or said kids driving out those partners if they didn’t think that they were good enough for their dad. So, no Jason, he wasn’t being paranoid, considering that they ran the last one out in tears, covered in neon, biodegradable glitter and paint, he was being practical!

What Dick did not know was that as he was panicking and making plans the gremlin trio was making their own plans. Plans of his demise.

[idunnodudeijustwokeup]

I only want the fab 5 (+ Kori later on) when they are absolutely insane about each other. The most ride and die you will ever find.

They will never hesitate to square up again anyone who says anything bad about their team mates (and best friends (and lovers)), consistently checking in with each other even (and especially) when they are not meant/ supposed to.

I want them so fucking codependent but also completely unaware bc what do you mean you don’t constantly update your friend group everytime anything happens. What do you mean you don’t just break into your best friends house and sleep in their bed with them when you feel sad. What do you mean you keep secrets from your friends. What do you mean you don’t join your friends when they shower so you can continue your conversation. What do you mean you don’t know where every single scare on your best friend comes from. What do you mean you don’t call their dad a stupid motherfucker to his face. What do you mean you don’t know everything about your best friends.

I want them to have so many inside jokes that they are basically speaking a different language. I want them to share clothes and makeup and accessories to the point where nobody really remembers who owned what first. ( I want everyone to wear the other people’s merch always)

I want them to speak about their siblings like they are shared between the five of them. I want Tim to ask Donna a question when he is too embarrassed to ask Dick, and Cassie to ask Dick when she doesn’t want Donna to know, etc.

I want the mentors to be the other people’s aunt and uncles. ( I want the mentors and adults in their life to have a group chat where they try and help each other keep track of what their kids are doing bc gods know they won’t just tell them, so whenever they have a sleepover or a mission in one persons city, they let’s the rest of the mentors know. I also want the mentors to constantly send ‘baby’ photos and videos of their ‘kids’ in the group chat)

I want the dating history within the group to be so fucking confusing that you need a collage level lecture to understand it from the outside.

I want all of them to be married to other titans, but nobody really remembers who is married to who, especially since most of them are married to multiple people. ( a mix of Vegas weddings, undercover missions that took a turn, space rituals and traditions they got court up in, bets that were won and lost, and very intense dnd campaigns)

I want their private group chat to have more encryptions and protections than pentagon and the batcomputer put together. I want the GC to be filled with Drunken voice notes, homemade memes, pictures that should never see the light of day, secrets and jokes that would get them into soooo much trouble.

I want them to bring one or two titans along to family and work events. I want people to bet on which of the friends will go with Roy vs who will go as Dicks date to the fancy Galas, bc you can bet your ass they will be there as arm candy on their arms. (Having your friends at the Gala is the only thing that makes going to these Galas bearable). I want them to sneak out every time and go to a random fast food restaurant.

I want their fighting styles to be so engrained in each other that it is impossible to figure out who thought who what, and which of them was the first person to introduce this move into the equation.

I want outsiders to look at them and be confused if one of the OG titans are standing alone without one of the other titans. Do you see the vision?

[buckybarneswife125]

Jealousy, jealousy

Summary: Bucky is yours.

You are so proud of James, how far he’s come. He went from the world’s most feared assassin to a future congressman. You love that man to bits and you are so happy for him.

However, the more campaigns he has, the more people see him, and that wouldn’t be a problem except for the amount of people thirsting after him.

That’s not to say you don’t understand, I mean Bucky is the best of the best, but that little green monster always rears it’s ugly head at the worst times.

Like tonight, it is a very important gala for Bucky, it’s an opportunity for him to gain support and more votes. It’s imperative that you are on your best behavior — Bucky already said that when you get home he will reward you for that.

You were in the restroom when you heard someone talking.

“Future congressman, James Buchanan Barnes, taller in real life, has great teeth…”

“He’s 110 years old,” her friend, you’re assuming, replied. “And I’m pretty sure he’s married,” her friend continued.

“Not for long,” the first woman shot back.

You bit your lip so hard it drew blood. If it weren’t for the fact that Bucky’s entire career rests on how you act tonight, you would’ve ripped her hair from her head for that comment.

It’s not that you think Bucky would ever cheat on you, no, you know he loves you right down to your bones. It’s the audacity of these woman who believe they can have any man they want. Especially if he’s yours.

You walk out of the small stall, make your way to the sink and make a show of removing your large 10 carat dimond wedding ring to wash your hands, and that immediately gets the women’s attention.

“My god, that ring is gorgeous!” One of them exclaims, you recognize her voice as the one who wanted Bucky.

You smile sheepishly, “I know I’m very lucky.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” The friend asks, “you look familiar, what’s your name?”

You hide your smirk, “Y/N Barnes.”

The color drains from the wannabe man-stealer’s face. “O-oh my god, I’m so s-sorry,” she fumbles. While her friend stands there beat red shaking her head.

“Oh no worries, I get it,” you say as you slide your ring back on and examine it your hand.

The rest of the night goes without a hitch and on the car ride home you tell Bucky what happens, he just laughs.

“I would never leave you for those shallow women, or anyone for that matter. I’m all yours, doll.”

You believe every word

Thank you for reading 🫶🫶

[drarryspecificrecs]

2024.06 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. When you are ready to go on... but you go back by Sakura521 [M, 175k]

►After the battle of Hogwarts ended Harry thought he could finally be done with all the drama and just have some quiet and peace, but when a freak accident strickes him down he really thinks it would be permanent this time... But he wakes up again in a otherworldly place he rolls with it and goes back in time in hopes to fix everything and no one has to die except the really bad guys. [...] Harry Potter will save everyone and make sure all his loved ones lives a perfect happy life. And if he finds something special for him too, well, he is the savior after all.

2. Beholden by @faith2wood [E, 123k]

►Draco Malfoy might not be a killer, but it turns out he's an effective painkiller. If stopping pain was all Draco's touch did, things might not be so complicated, but either way Harry can't afford to be choosy.

3. Return to Sender by @draykray [E, 113k]

►While dealing with the repercussions of his father's imprisonment, Draco Malfoy receives a desperate letter from his arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. He replies, careful to keep himself anonymous, but their tenuous correspondence can only last so long as sixth year approaches, and with it, all the trouble Draco has been so carefully avoiding.

4. The BFF Plot (Harry Potter RWRB) by Gingit [E, 107k]

►Harry and Draco are forced to pretend to be friends after a little... incident at a fundraising gala involving a cake and a little too much alcohol. Neither of them is happy with the arrangement, but their respective senses of duty to family and an electoral campaign keep them both cooperative. As they reluctantly get to know each other better, they learn that maybe they have more in common than they thought, and the pretend friendship turns into something more. [...]

5. Alliges Duplicia: Bound by @talesfromanuntoldstory​ [E, 102k]

►Harry and Draco both go back to Hogwarts for the 8th year. Harry goes because he skipped his 7th year, and Draco goes because he failed his. They get stuck working together on a Potion’s project because they both skipped the same class in which pairs were chosen. Due to the clumsiness of another student, their brilliant work turns into a disaster when, somehow, their magical energies get bonded together, which forces them to stay in close proximity to each other. [...]

6. To What We Owe Our Miseries by @writandromance [?, 100k]

►A rare Daily Prophet honour, bestowed upon both Harry and Ginny, disturbs the dependable routine of their lives between league competitions. [...] The arrival of Blaise Zabini, a fellow honouree, catches Ginny’s attention when no one else can. Harry’s thrilled for her, but the matchmaking would be much more painless if he didn’t have to endure the constant presence of Blaise’s companion, the inexpressive, pejorative Draco Malfoy.

7. Reasons to Trust by @alcohen [M, 89k]

►Of all the possible ways to redeem himself in his own eyes, Draco Malfoy chose to become a therapist. Rebuilding one’s self-esteem isn’t an easy thing, though, and the real turning point comes when he runs into Harry at a gay bar, and, to Draco’s surprise, he doesn’t seem to hate him anymore. /// This is a story about finding acceptance, gaining and then losing trust, and ultimately choosing to rebuild it from the ashes.

8. Enduring by @mykkitno [E, 88k]

►During Yule of Harry’s fifth year, he finds something in the Chamber of Secrets that answers questions he hadn’t realized he had, but he keeps the knowledge hidden until he can’t anymore. Resorting to Dark Magic isn’t something he thought he’d do, but the changes it wrought aren’t ones he regrets because the alternative would have made things worse.

9. Nightmare by chrysaetius [T, 82k]

►After the war, some of the students have returned to Hogwarts for the 8th year. Students who had their own common rooms and dormitories have been coupled as roommates due to McGonagall's excuse of 'uniting the houses'. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have started sharing a room. They try to ignore each other despite the mutual hatred. Harry has nightmares at night and he's not able to move past them. One of these nights, Draco decides he's had enough and tries to wake Harry. However, he suddenly finds himself in Harry's dream. Or rather, his nightmare.

10. Narcissa Malfoy, Fairy Godmother by @duchessdulce [T, 81k]

►Narcissa was a pureblood supremacist. Narcissa had a Muggle friend. These things were both true. /// Also: It’s fifth year for Harry Potter, and Malfoy’s eleven-year-old cousin has just started at Hogwarts. When Harry begins to suspect that the girl is actually Muggleborn, he can’t rest until he finds out what Malfoy is really up to.

※ HONOURABLE MENTIONS :

11. The Truest Lie by Zoythren [M, 43k]

►Harry knows something is wrong with Malfoy and he intends to find out what. He expects it to be a Dark Mark on his arm, and a horrible task. What he doesn't expect is finding a Draco Malfoy that is almost impossible to stay away from. What he doesn't expect to find his for his school rival to show him all the truths no one else dares to say out loud. What he doesn't expect to find ... is everything.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 15k

※ Word count: 15k ~ 40k

Ballad of the Mantis by @tessacrowley [E, 27k]

The Dangers of a Muggle Flat by Justlikewriting [M, 21k]

Eternal Reunion by Splashstorm [E, 38k]

Think of Home by SpicyNoodleJun [G, 36k]

i was having visions of sugared pastry (cooked up in clarified butter) by infectiousdisease, solifuge [M, 33k]

Protego Fragor by nutmeg223344 [G, 22k]

Sweet Lies by L_hyuga [E, 17k]

your braids like a pattern by @hoko-onchi-writes [E, 31k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

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HD Mpreg 2024 | @harrydracompreg

HP Daddy Knows Best 2024 | @hpdaddyknowsbest (1)

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Lights Camera Drarry 2024 | @lcdrarry

Severitus Big Bang 2024 | @severitus-big-bang (1)

Siriusly Hozier Fest | @imsiriuslyreading (1)

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Wrapped In Red [Commander Fox x Fem!Reader]

Warnings and Information: When a long-time friend of yours in the Galactic Senate invited you to one of the upcoming galas, you envisioned a night of lavish apparel, drinking, dancing, and dodging the attempts of too-friendly senators. Added security had not been a part of it, but it’s non-negotiable following an attempt on your friend’s life. Fortunately, you can make the best of a bad situation by making friends with your bodyguards — Clone troopers of the Coruscant Guard, including Marshal Commander Fox himself.  Second Person POV, undescribed Fem!Reader, save for the color of her dress and accessories. Reader is the friend of an unspecified senator nicknamed “Aspen”. Political assassination attempt [off-screen, more focus is on the aftermath]. Brief reference of a riot and (civilian) violence against Clones. Elements of the ‘Lady/Knight’ or ‘Bodyguard Crush’ dynamics. Forced proximity. Reference and allusion to alcohol. Narrative and stylistic use of italics. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Some use of Mando'a. Prompt is highlighted in red. Requested by @returnofthepineapple from her previous account. 

Word Count: 10,817

For the past couple of years, you’ve been living a quiet life on one of Coruscant’s neighboring planets. Though you were born there, the hustle and bustle of Coruscant proved more than you could handle as you grew older. You longed for some place less choked by pollution, politics and power-mad bastards. 

So, just before the outbreak of the Clone Wars, you spread your wings and left the labyrinth-like nest. 

People dear to your heart still lived there, so you never left Coruscant completely behind you. 

One such person—a childhood friend—you’ve managed to remain quite close with in spite of your relocation, and their involvement in the Galactic Senate. Rising through the upper echelons in the political scene to make it into a senatorial position had taken time, but the friend you knew best as Aspen had never been the type who could be easily swayed from their goals, or their sense in doing the right thing. 

Thinking of you often, Aspen liked to send you invitations to some of the millions of events taking place on Coruscant at any given time. Mostly small things, like seasonal markets or something related to various hobbies and interests. 

“A certain someone I know would love the concert they're holding in the entertainment district this coming Zhellday!”

“Blast… I’m going to be busy that day! But you’re the best, Aspen.”

On rare occasions, the invitations Aspen gave you were to much bigger things than crafting workshops or concerts. 

The most recent of these larger invitations is to an upcoming gala being held at the very end of the month, meant to cap off the long proposal period of very important—yet divisive—bills and other legislation to the Republic. You knew from past experience this would be a very, very long month for Aspen with no shortage of headaches. They were probably ready to beg you to attend the gala if it came down to it. 

It took only a short moment of thought before coming to a decision upon receiving the electronic invite; hoping to surprise them with good news, a message was left with a member of their senatorial staff. 

Hey, Aspen, just thought I’d let you know I got your invitation to the upcoming gala. I know you’re busy, so you don’t need to convince me to attend. I’d be happy to come and see you. The gala sounds like fun. Already looking forward to it! 

You’ve attended a few parties with Aspen in the past, but you can’t recall one of this scale or importance. There were the small fundraisers where you ate so many jogan fruit tarts together you were nearly sick. Promotional campaigns where bets were made on how many flutes of champagne Aspen’s competitors would end up sucking back before the end of the night. Public appearances where you stood beside (or in place of) your childhood friend’s family to support and celebrate the hard work they’ve put into the planet you called home for a long, long time. 

Making the kind of differences Aspen hoped for in the galaxy would often be an uphill battle. You’ve regularly joked it was a good thing that they’ve always been a fan of climbing in all the time you knew them. 

By the time you made it to Coruscant, less than a week before the gala, you were faced with the horrible discovery of just how close Aspen had come to falling from those lofty heights.

You’re planet-side for all of five minutes—busy wrestling your things together in the spaceport terminal—before you find yourself face-to-helmet with a pair of white-armored men. By the way they had begun marching in the direction of the baggage claim from the moment you got there and the deliberateness of their stride, you had the feeling they were not simply on patrol. 

These soldiers—Clones—part of the Coruscant Guard, judging by the red paintwork, had been waiting for you.  

The rest of your luggage continued to sit on the revolving conveyor belt as you spoke with the shocktroopers for the next few minutes, trying to figure out what was going on in spite of the travel-fatigue. Anyone who’s spent a significant amount of time on Coruscant has seen more than their fair share of regular commuters and far-away travelers getting stopped by terminal security forces, so that in itself is not out of the ordinary. 

Getting stopped by members of the Guard, those who dealt with riots and political escorts… That was more unusual. It meant whatever was going on was pretty karkin’ serious. (You’re not in trouble, are you?) Comply. Be polite. They don’t sound angry yet when they start asking basic questions to confirm your identity. 

Starting with your name and date of birth, one of the troopers brings up his datapad clipped to his utility belt to verify your answers against information in their database. The other silently gathers the rest of your baggage from the carousel the next time it comes around, preventing some petty criminal from getting their hands on whatever's inside. Between giving the troopers the requested information, a million thoughts race all at once while wondering whether or not you’ll be asked to come with them soon enough. Unless the Corries are hurting for work so badly that they’re now working spaceport security, whatever this is about is undoubtedly serious. 

In a shaken voice, you try to find answers once there is a suitable lull in the questioning.

“Can I ask what this is about…? Am I in trouble?”

The trooper with the datapad in his hand turns to the other, saying nothing, but raises his shoulders and gestures with his free hand as if to say “How much do you think we can tell her?” to his partner. You grow all the more nervous as the silent exchange continues, the partner shaking his head at the first. 

“Not here.” the second trooper says, his head wagging sharply to suggest it isn’t a good idea. 

The first makes a hurried promise before he’s interrupted by the second. “You’re not in trouble-” 

“But you’re not safe, either. We can explain more once you’re about the gunship. We need to ask you to come with us.” (Gunship? Safe? Oh fuck.) The same trooper, nodding to a bag by your feet now says “Sayber, take the duffle bag. I’ve got the suitcase.” before instructing you to follow them. 

Struggling to match their militant stride, you want to do little more than shrink out of discomfort feeling hundreds of eyes trained on you as you march back the way the shocktroopers came through the crowded spaceport. Doing your best to ignore all the many faces glittering with curiosity, you instead focus on the LAAT/i emblazoned with the crest of the Guard lazily bobbing in place as it hovers over a part of the terminal’s platform. 

Aside from the pilot, there are three more soldiers. Two are waiting in the craft itself; another waits on the ground, hands planted firmly on each hip. 

He must be who Sayber and the second, nameless Clone now walking beside you report to, judging by the stance and differences in his armor. On his helmet, you see stylized wings painted above a black visor guard, framing the visor itself. Two ‘capes’ of flexible armor hung from his utility belt, swaying in the downdraft of the ship just behind him, and the left shoulder armor has an antenna of some kind. 

If you had to guess his rank, he’s either a captain or commander. “That didn’t take long at all.” he calls to his soldiers, tone neither impressed or surprised. “Have you and Naran verified she’s who we were sent to retrieve?”

“Yes, Commander Thorn. She matches the descriptions we were given.” Sayber, the trooper on your right, replies confidently. 

All the same, he and Naran show their superior the datapad, allowing him to look at the information for himself. Confirmed with the commander, you’re given the go-ahead to board. Naran and Sayber board first, one securing your luggage while the other helps you into the gunship. 

As soon as you’re aboard, the commander orders the blast shields closed. The sound of which makes you wince, but being so on-edge, you’re grateful for the feeling of extra security it brings soon after. As you’re being shown an overhead handrail to use in case the inertial compensator isn’t enough to keep you from being wobblier than a newborn bantha, you’re advised not to lock your knees once the military repulsorcraft takes off. 

“Flight shouldn’t be too long, but, because even the most routine escorts have surprises we have to ask: do you get airsick, ma’am?” Having met them just a short time ago, you can’t yet tell Naran and Sayber apart, but you’re pretty sure this is Naran who’s rooting through the on-board medical kit for something. 

“O-oh, I-”

Your hesitation and the commander’s interruption is enough for one of them to toss an airsick bag your way, just in case. “Nothing routine about this escort, boys. We’re gonna be wrapped in red tape for a while, so we should start getting used to it.” The pilot is signaled to take off from the spaceport and begin making his way to a coded location a few moments later. 

The word ‘escort’ is nothing unfamiliar to you, having gone through this song and dance one of the last times you came to support Aspen’s senatorial workings. But red tape creates enough dread to ice over your veins before it begins pooling hot and sour in your guts. 

“C-can I ask what’s going on now?” 

What’s happened that’s made all of this a necessity?

Naran, remembering the promise he made back at the terminal, begins to carefully explain the situation with a slight halt in his voice. Each word is chosen carefully, like perhaps he’s unsure just how much he can say, or how you might react. 

“Someone—we’re not sure who—tried to end your friend Senator Aspen’s life shortly before you got to Coruscant… They’re shaken, but ultimately unharmed. We were asked to bring you to the same secure location by one of the other commanders.” 

The remainder of your flight aboard the gunship goes by without another word. The troopers know this is difficult information to process, and you can’t think of a single thing to say about any of it. It’s hard to be afforded a moment of silence to reflect on any of this with the guttural drone of the engine eating up any sound below a stage whisper, but the soldiers around you do their best. It’s a small act of kindness to you. 

Until you step off the gunship, this will be your last opportunity to have any kind of time to yourself before you’ll be so caught up in red tape you would practically be wearing the stuff.

Upon arrival, Sayber and Naran once again wrangle your luggage for you to speed up the process of disembarking. 

The less hindrances you had the better. You needed to see Aspen. And Aspen needed to see you. Having a friendly face by your side made confronting calamity a little more bearable, someone wise once told you. (Or, maybe you read that somewhere on the holonet…) In this state of heightened adrenaline, thoughts become muddled and disjointed as Commander Thorn ushers you past several armed security guards down a long hall. 

You can only imagine your friend will be in a far worse state. 

“Senator Aspen is in here,” Commander Thorn explains, stopping in front of a modified blastdoor. “The two of you will be kept here until a security detail has been finalized.”

“That’s fine… Thank you, Commander Thorn.”

Commander Thorn wastes no time, waving you in ahead of him once he’s completed keying in the clearance code. Inside, you find your friend crumpled into a low multi-seater, face in their hands as the person seated on the other end of the couch appears to be explaining something either to them, or to the other armed guards posted in the corners of the panic room.  

From the armor kit, you know the man is another Clone like Sayber, Naran and Commander Thorn with a singular glance. But you’re less concerned with who he is right at this moment, never having been more relieved to see your friend than you are right now. 

“Once she’s here, I would like everyone to-”

“Aspen!”

The other Clone immediately falls silent as Aspen gets on their feet in a flash, all but vaulting over the caf-table in order to meet you half-way. Mutually crushing the air out of the other’s lungs in the strength of your embrace, neither of you can properly express just how grateful you are to see the other. Jumbled, rapid words give way to tears seeping into one another’s shoulders before long, so occupied with comforting each other that no attention is paid to the troopers being swapped out with Naran and Sayber once they have brought in your belongings. 

In a tight, choked voice your friend begins apologizing to you once they’re calm enough to speak. “I’m so sorry that we had to meet like… like this… but it’s so, so good to see you.” Pulling away, you get a better look at their face for the first time and your heart clenches painfully. They look so scared. So deeply shaken. Yet here they are, apologizing to you for something that’s hardly their fault. 

“Had to be the longest hour of my life, waiting here with the Commander for you to get to Coruscant…” Aspen continues, taking your hand to guide you to sit beside them on the multi-seater where it would be more comfortable than standing. “I wanted to talk to you. So badly. Just to hear your voice and find a little solace after- After everything.”

“I’m guessing you couldn’t?”

Your friend shakes their head no. “Not exactly. We weren’t sure if it would be safe to. I’m sor-”

It’s you who shakes their head this time before explaining why a second apology is not necessary. “Hey. I understand. The important thing was trying to keep you safe after you were almost… hurt. Or worse.” The simple fact your friend was unharmed—still living and breathing in front of you—was an incredible blessing.

“Your friend sounds like a smart woman, Senator Aspen.” 

Reminded of his presence after you’ve been paid a compliment, your friend quickly begins the process of trying to compose themself in order to begin proper introductions. “Y-yes, she very much is… Commander, this is my very dear friend I was trying to tell you about earlier when explaining who your men needed to find.” The second Commander nods in polite greeting, refraining from saying anything until introductions have been finished. 

“And this, my dear friend,” Aspen says in a well-practiced this-is-important tone of voice, “is Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard. I believe he’s been tasked with security after what nearly happened.”

At this point, Commander Fox has gotten to his feet and taken a look at something on Commander Thorn’s datapad before consulting his own. “That would be correct, Senator.” Holding himself with purpose, this second commander standing beside Thorn differs from him in more ways than just the color-inversion of his chest armor, and the additional Corrie Crimson on his armor alone. “I am here by order of the Chancellor to create a strong security detail for you, and your friend, in light of the attempt on your life almost an hour ago.” His voice, while not too different from the Clones you’ve met today thus far, had strong tonal qualities of duty and seriousness that commanded a great deal of attention from everyone in the room. 

You’ll ask about “that” detail in just a moment. Right now, you’re more surprised there’s no fear or unease when he says he’s here to enact the Chancellor’s will. This comes naturally to him.

“Sorry, I just want to make sure I heard you correctly: you said by order of the Chancellor?”

Nodding stiffly, Commander Fox confirms his orders. “Yes ma’am. As the Marshal Commander, I’ve been asked by Chancellor Palpatine to personally ensure your safety at all times until it is no longer deemed necessary. While he understands the upcoming gala expects to see many high-profile guests, he was rather disturbed to hear what had nearly happened to Senator Aspen, and insisted upon a constant security presence.” 

“I may or may not have tried politely refusing the Chancellor’s offer.” Aspen explains to you, chuckling somewhat shamefully. “And he was right to insist upon my refusal; it was fifteen minutes after the attack and I certainly wasn’t thinking clearly… I… Well, I think Commander Fox or Thorn has the pictures.” 

Nodding less stiffly than before, Commander Fox takes one of the datapads and shows you a collection of the holo-stills and frames taken from nearby security feeds of the destruction left by the attack. While you look at the horrible state of Aspen’s senatorial office, the main window broken with thick shards of transparisteel strewn across the floor, your friend explains that they managed to escape the attack unharmed by sheer, dumb luck. 

“I survived because I tripped, if you can believe it.” 

Blaster marks have burned the back of Aspen’s chair and several spots in the floor. The main desk, made from a much heavier, more-solid material, is riddled with blaster burn in comparison. While you’re not an expert by any means, the window pane’s shatter pattern suggests that the weapon used by the would-be assassin was likely high-powered, or of uncommon caliber. 

“It was just a split second before the first shot. After that, I hid in front of the desk as best as I could until members of the Coruscant Guard showed up. All that Corrie Crimson surging into my office must have scared them off because the firing stopped almost as soon as the Guard got there.”

Dumb luck. Dumb luck saved your friend before the Corries came to protect them. 

Facing the whole emotional gamut as you view these stills, Commander Fox puts the datapad away the very second you cannot stand to see more, shaking your head no, no, no. 

Outrage and disgust blooms in your chest, acidic and bitter-hot. You had too many questions to ask all at once. Crime scene analysts had cordoned off Aspen’s office, currently combing over everything for the most minute of clues. Would they be able to figure out who could have possibly wanted to kill your friend? Did anyone see who it was before they got away?

What was the motivation?

Uncertain of the answers to the other questions, Aspen could only offer partial answers as to ‘why’ someone might have tried to kill them with much hand-wringing. 

On one of the planets the Republic has been hoping to change the neutrality status of, there had been a riot almost a month ago now that’s still so tightly wrapped up in red tape largely in efforts to keep details away from the press while investigations are still on-going. Because of that, Aspen can’t say who they believe started the riot, or for what reason. But they can tell you that several Clones were nearly beaten to death as a result, and the rioters responsible have been charged with destruction of government property for the time being. 

Aspen was spearheading an effort to re-file those charges under a different crime that they believe more accurately reflects the rioters’ intentions that day. Attempted murder. While the effort has seen a lot of support in the Chambers, there are a fair number of senators still dragging their feet on making a decision. 

A small handful of influential senators have had a far less positive reception to this effort the longer Aspen has encouraged these changes. Matters that were becoming complicated when some of them were beginning to react in ways that suggested hostility have now become even more complicated with the introduction of a botched assassination. 

Planning for the gala has gotten a whole lot more complicated as well. If it’s even going to happen at all…

“Did the Chancellor say anything about cancelling the gala at the end of the week?”

“Too many high-profile guests coming from across the galaxy to change anything at this point, I imagine. Some of them have been making preparations for half a year, or more.” Aspen explains, fruitlessly massaging their temples over the thought of it. “Great galaxies, I do not envy whoever is in charge of organizing security for that mess…” 

Commander Thorn politely clears his throat. “Will likely be me, now that Commander Fox is overseeing your security, Senator.” He quickly adds, “Or, it could be Commander Thire. We’ll get it sorted.” after sharing a fleeting glance with his fellow commander. 

Aspen winces sympathetically. 

“I’m so sorry…” 

“Don’t be, Senator.” Commander Thorn says. When he speaks again, his voice is a little softer than before, careful sympathy lacing every spoken word. “We’re sorry that your plans to get ready for the gala are going to have to be changed.”  

“How soon will that be?” Aspen wonders.

“Once Commander Fox has your security detail finalized.” 

Your friend makes a low sound in their throat, smiling grimly. “Very soon then, I imagine… May I ask what we can expect, Commander Fox?” 

In a calm and deliberate voice, Commander Fox explains that as investigations are being conducted, he and other members of the Guard are going to be accompanying the two of you everywhere leading up to the gala. They’ll be your security as well as your escort force; you’re going to be spending a lot of time under their watchful eyes and ready hands.

So if there are any reservations, now is the time to say something. 

You look to your friend and make a quiet offer after considering the Commander’s words. “You’re the one who invited me here, so I’ll follow your lead, Aspen.” You’ve known each other long enough to trust their judgement. If it was decided it would be safest for you to go home, then you would take a rain check on this visit and come back to Coruscant another time. 

While you’re prepared not to create more trouble for everyone, Aspen’s selfless nature rears its sweet head even in the wake of an attack. Turning to Commander Fox, who stands straight-backed as he is patiently awaiting a verdict before the two of you, your friend asks one final question of him. 

“I know plans will change, but will the security detail mean I can still help my friend prepare for the gala, Commander?”

Commander Fox takes less than a moment to think before deciding that would be a reasonable use of the service. “If that’s what you wish, Senator.” He nods politely not only to Aspen, but to you as well, you notice. A small gesture of professionalism, as well as respect. 

“Then we accept.” Aspen says, sealing your shared fate for the rest of the week leading up to the gala.

Though the two of you have only just met, the feeling that you’ll come to like this man has already begun to spark.

From the moment Commander Fox put the security detail into action, you decided for yourself that you would make the most of this situation and make conscientious efforts to get to know everyone making up this task force better going forward. Not only would it be polite, but it would make it easier to remain in close-quarters with these men for a long period of time when they were no longer strangers. 

The full team consisted of two parts: Clones who had been hand-picked to be stationed with Commander Fox full-time, and those who would be rotating through the force on an as-needed basis. That meant there would likely be more than a few soldiers you would get to know very well by the end of the team’s lifespan. 

Maybe even become friends. 

Already, you and your friend were making great progress getting to know Naran and Sayber in particular. These two soldiers—who were part of the permanent assignment—are not merely patrol partners like you had initially assumed when you first met them. They explained they were batchmates, meaning they had been created and trained together at the same time on the world known as Kamino, out in Wild Space. 

Naran and Sayber completed their training six months ago; stationed on Coruscant for five. It explains why their armor looks so new, and why the paint lacks much chipping, fading or transferring. They’re young, and have only begun breaking it in. There’s a term Clones like to use that pretty much means the same thing as “rookie”. 

“We’re not exactly a couple of ‘Shinies’ anymore, but we’re still fairly inexperienced compared to other brothers in the Guard… I’m not exactly sure why Commander Fox assigned us permanently.” Sayber confesses to you in a moment of quiet. 

Commanders Fox and Thorn are busy, following protocol to secure the room where you and Aspen will be sleeping; the batchmates are supposed to be focused on keeping their eyes on the two of you in the meantime, but Sayber’s curiosity is stronger than his worry over being “caught” bothering you by his superiors. 

Something that Naran quietly fumes with frustration about. (“You’re going to get yourself in trouble, di’kut…”) He much prefers to stay on task and engage only when addressed. It might take more time before he opens up to the two of you compared to his brother and patrol partner, who happily does more than enough talking for the two of them. 

You can expect to meet more of the Guard starting tomorrow; the rest of the day will likely be focused on getting the two of you settled in before any of the pre-gala preparations and errands can be conducted. Some will have to be done separately. Others can be done together, such as the shopping for a dress (on Aspen’s insistence), given that they are performed during set hours. 

And they will always involve an escort of no less than two troopers. 

You will not be permitted to wander around Coruscant, alone, at any given time. 

“Dammit. Sounds like getting some Hyellian musical noodles around two in the morning is out of the question, then.” you remark softly in jest during the first review of the safety plan once the Commanders have completed their protocol, shrugging animatedly in an oh well fashion. Won’t be the end of the galaxy. 

His review disrupted, Commander Fox’s dark T-shaped visor lifts from the screen and fixes itself upon you, quietly regarding you over the top of the datapad in his free hand. 

The thought that you just karked up strikes you in an instant. 

Thinking you’re being serious, Fox speaks seriously in turn. “I was unaware this was something I needed to account for. Forgive me, ma’am.” Your hammering heart skips a beat rather uncomfortably as he begins to pull up the keyboard on the device’s HUD, and your face grows hot with embarrassment. 

“No, I-! I was only making a joke. I’m sorry, Commander, I shouldn’t have.” 

Asking him to accommodate a silly little tradition of yours every time you made the trip to Triple Zero would create more work for everyone. Taking unnecessary risks. It would be selfish. 

Fortunately, you won’t have to worry about making fewer jokes just because Commander Fox has a stronger no-nonsense personality than you might be accustomed to for very long. Members of his own Guard have a way of softening the tension to keep things from getting quite so abrasive. 

“Grizzer and I could always make that run for you, ma’am.” There to listen in on the review, the ARF trooper that was assigned to guard the perimeter of the ‘safe house’ by the name of Sergeant Hound drops the lead to the massiff in question after issuing a command word. “Su!” The quadrupedal reptilian settles on their hindquarters, long tongue lolling between dagger-sharp teeth. 

“It’ll help her earn a turbodog once this is all said and done. Tradition of ours, for the big jobs.” 

Maker: it will take some getting used to being called or considered part of a “big job” like this. 

After a long moment, you decide to accept. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” Since he was kind enough to offer, you make sure to give Hound an especially grateful nod. 

Commander Fox adds the offer to the approved actions he’s compiled once the exchange has finished, and moves swiftly on. There has been a lot of ground covered, and he intends to cover more before someone will be sent to collect that night’s dinner order. It’s evident enough that he’s a serious and hard-working man. He would have to be, seeing as he’s the Marshal Commander appointed to lead the Coruscant Guard. so…

So it comes as little surprise that any offer or invitation for a breather, a single moment off his feet has been turned down time and time again as the afternoon bleeds into the evening. Even in the securest of spaces, Commander Fox turns down reprieve and refreshment with the same four words. 

“No thank you,” either followed by Senator or ma’am. 

Your kindness refuses to falter in the face of his stoicism, but you’re smart enough to recognize when to let it go at the same time. 

“Okay. May I offer it to Naran and Sayber instead, then?”

Dinner had been sourced from 79’s in the entertainment district; largely finger foods made in outrageous portion sizes, meant to be shared between large groups. Aspen had ordered a slider for each of you, and a basket of protato wedges to share. There had been a slight mix-up, and the two of you ended up with a third slider and more than double the wedges that you could possibly hope to eat by yourselves. Trying to sort out the error was met with the offer to go ahead and keep the food as they were pretty slammed tonight. 

“If you wish, ma’am.” Fox replies, voice as politely disinterested as before. “I’m certain they won’t object.” 

True to form, the batchmates eagerly unseal their helmets before gratefully accepting the offered food, granted unspoken permission by their commander. It’s the first time you see any of the Clones’ faces since the start of all this unfortunate excitement. “Thank you, sir. And thank you ma’am!” Sayber exclaims. His broad grin brings out a dimple in the tanned left cheek, adding to how he looks far, far too young for this armor. 

He and Naran carry the food to the only other table in the room in order to eat, wasting no time in coming up with a way to halve the slider and wedges between them. While his men eat, Commander Fox discreetly consults the datapad he has clipped to the utility belt from which his dark kama hangs. What he’s reading is a mystery, but you could probably assume it had to do with either you, Aspen, or his shocktroopers. Maybe it was the safety plan and security detail for tomorrow. Maybe it was unrelated. 

Regardless, this seems to be the only sort of reprieve he allows himself. Once he’s finished, the tablet returns to the Commander’s hip and he reassumes position. 

His posture is meticulous, yet somehow almost elegant. Hands folded behind his back and chest high, the crimson commander does not budge so much as an inch from his post in the time it takes Naran and Sayber to put everything away. Only once they clean up and reseal their helmets will Commander Fox drop this extra rigidity. 

Fox’s earlier refusal now appears more purposeful than before when this time it is Naran who thanks you and his superior for the food. The shocktrooper’s words are met with a “Don’t mention it.” so softly spoken, it would be hard (but perhaps not impossible) to mistake it for a command. 

From this singular display of momentary tenderness, Fox has told you more about himself that he might realize: if you hope to have a better chance of befriending the commander, how his men are taken care of will likely be very important over the coming days.

Following that first night on Coruscant, you fell into a routine within a short couple of days. 

Waking up an hour (sometimes more) before Commander Fox arrived with the day’s security detail, you would quietly prepare for the day ahead of you just to have a small bit of time to yourself. Just you and Aspen. Together, you’d take this opportunity to have more intimate conversations without your second shadows in red and white armor present; to reflect on the days behind you.

And puzzle out a curious pattern beginning to develop… 

It was hardly surprising that there would be the most to say of Commander Fox out of all the Corries. You spent the most time with him. Not only was Fox the lynchpin to your collective safety, but the only time he was ever away from your side (save for using the ‘fresher) was to allow each of you to sleep for the night. 

He was by far the most reserved member of the Corries you’ve had the pleasure of meeting; the most aloof and strictly professional, all for good reason. Not only was he dealing with the Chancellor’s orders for a very serious situation, there was so much red tape for him to navigate through on a daily basis. It wouldn’t feel right to either of you to ask Commander Fox to behave in a more-friendly manner for the sake of protecting your own feelings. 

But more recently he was starting to become more warm with you, no longer just his soldiers. 

You’ve seen how he is with the younger soldiers in particular, like Naran and Sayber. Reminding them again and again to not tense their shoulders quite so much. Answering their many what-if questions. Encouraging the two of them to play a bit of holochess against you or the senator in his stead. 

Now Commander Fox was thanking you for your offers when turning down the invitation to take a short break or have something to eat. He was no longer passively listening to conversations you would have with the other Clones, but joining in on the rare occasion. You were no longer just ‘Senator Aspen’s friend’ or simply ‘ma’am’ when speaking of you, or being addressed. 

When Commander Fox began to use your name, that’s when things became a little more interesting. 

Aspen started to gently tease you after that, suspecting you were becoming somewhat charmed by the crimson commander. The gala was in two days. Your friend had promised to help you buy a formal dress here on Coruscant in order to save you luggage space. Neither of you certainly expected to have an audience, and Aspen wanted to make sure that you’d be okay with potentially being seen by Fox and a dozen or more Clones in a fancy dress or two.

Yes, the Guard was always, always very respectful of you both, but perhaps it might be a bit embarrassing. Or feel strange. Maybe you would feel self-conscious in front of Fox in particular… Something they promised was perfectly normal while you were busy getting ready together this morning as you waited for Fox and the Guard to arrive. 

“You’re saying that you think I have a crush on the commander?” 

You take a brief pause from tidying things on your side of the room, wondering whether or not you’d heard your friend correctly. Commander Fox was by and large what you might consider a “strong and silent” type of man, slow to let someone into their comfort zone, teasing the other person along inch by inch. Did Aspen really think that’s what was going on with you? That you were intrigued by some kind of thrilling mystery in interacting with someone like that?

“Well… Sort of.” Aspen admits with a soft laugh. “This kind of thing happens a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s Baby’s First Bodyguard, or you’re a seasoned professional when it comes to dealing with armed escorts. A lot of senators and diplomats tend to form some kind of feeling for the people who are there to protect them.”

You try to mask your doubt with a joking accusation. “Are you trying to feed me banthashit right now?” Is this truly as common as Aspen says it is, or are they trying to help you feel better in their typical selfless fashion? 

Sensing your doubt, Aspen promises they are telling the truth. “It really does happen all the time, sweetheart. It’s happened to me too! You know I wouldn’t lie about that. And you know I’m not going to judge you for feeling things for the commander, or possibly having a crush, either, right?” Before you can answer, you hear the sound of a distant LAAT/i, followed by several soldiers speaking at once. 

You’re going to have to wrap this up, quick. “Of course. I’ve known you for a long time, Aspen. I trust you.” They’ve always been a good friend to you; there’s never been a reason for doubt or distrust. 

Briskly getting up, Aspen helps you tidy and put away the last of your things not a moment too soon. Just as everything has been put away, Commander Fox makes himself known with four firm raps on the other side of the door. Here forty-five minutes exactly before the first of the boutiques is set to open, as discussed. 

The usual pleasantries are exchanged after Aspen has gone to answer the door. The ‘good morning’s and asking if the two of you slept well. Asking if there was anything either of you needed before joining the others back at the gunship and getting on your way. 

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you. Nice to see you, Commander.” 

Perhaps surprised by your choice of greeting, Commander Fox has a brief moment of pause before he’s able to reply. “You as well, ma’am. Very well. No need to inform our pilot of anything, then. We can be on our way.” Nearly positive you’re not imagining it, while still rather factual, there seems to be more warmth in Fox’s voice this morning. 

He’s still all-business, encouraging everyone not to waste any time getting to the gunship, but now his tone is less stern and terse compared to the days before. He almost sounds… friendlier. Maybe Fox just needed three days to thaw out before warming up to you. Could be that he’s in a good mood because his men are in a great one this morning, most of them comfortable enough around you by now to talk about last night’s boloball victory in whispers. 

Whatever the case may be, it makes you a little less nervous about the prospect of going shopping with such a large security detail. 

Commander Fox’s brightened demeanor hardly changes for anything. 

Even Sayber can’t ruin it by forgetting his training and speaking out with excitement while you and Aspen steadily shop around the first of the formal boutiques for a suitable dress. His reason for doing so was more than forgivable: right around the time you began reaching for a gown in a sort of pomegranate red, the young shocktrooper cried out “HAH! Eat your heart out, Police Inspector Dan Tivo! I knew the Corries would find a lead in the investigation before him!”, much to the disturbance of the other patrons. 

There would be much apologizing to do—Sayber for breaking protocol and to the shop for causing any additional inconveniences—before this would start to become the point where things really began looking up. 

The red tape would not yet loosen itself from you, but with any luck it should soon begin to lift.

Whether you believed it was a curious coincidence or not, you decided to go with the red gown you had been reaching for around the time news broke of the lead in the investigation. By cleverly pairing it with a few ivory accessories, you curated an overall image that would come close to matching with much of the Coruscant Guard. 

This way, you could quietly sort of “mark” the time spent in their company in the week leading up the gala without outright wearing any one Clone’s personal markings, or the iconography that belonged to both the Guard and the Senate. 

You also can’t pretend it was no small relief to have so many of these big decisions taken care of so quickly, or all at the same shop in a busy fashion district. What had been planned to take nearly all day was completed in the span of less than two hours. 

And the next two days went by in a feverish blur with Commander Fox working harder than ever to truly make sure your security at the formal event would be nothing less than ironclad. 

His men even claimed he was aiming to be better than beskar: creating plans for every possible situation and even going so far as to form redundancies. Mapping out where and when you would arrive at the gala venue. Choosing who would be watching over you and Aspen separately, and who would be watching both of you. How he can continue to take care of your needs. Until the time comes and the suspect behind the botched killing has been caught, Commander Fox has sworn to remain at your service, no matter how trivial the request. 

Or how foolish you feel to ask. 

With hours to go and anxieties rising, there are times that involving him in the hustle-and-bustle process of getting dressed up becomes simply unavoidable. With every instance, your gratitude for this man only continues to grow stronger than before. 

Dropped an earring under the dresser and it’s too far for you to reach? Naran and Sayber will need to lend him a hand, lifting the furniture aside so he can search for it on his hands and knees.

Hands shaking too much, and the clasp on your necklace giving you trouble? He’ll help you put it on - he only asks that you hold your hair out of the way for him. 

Turning over the string of delicate Castilon pearls, you move to stand in front of the commander. The most straight-forward way to secure the necklace will be to turn your back to Fox and allow him to fit it from behind. “Thank you, Commander. I can’t seem to get my nerves under control at the moment...” you explain, grateful he won’t see the soft flush breaking across your face as his dexterous fingers latch and unlatch the tiny set of claw clasps with relative ease. 

In his voice you hear the very same tenderness he imparts to the youngest of his brothers as he softly encourages you to relax. By the time you take a deep breath and count to five ‘battleship’s, he’ll have this taken care of. You’re going to be just fine. Ordinarily you would be, were it not for the electric ripple in your skin every time you feel the smooth material of his raven-dark gloves brush against you. 

Understanding the tensing under each feather-light touch is only a reflex, the Marshal Commander casually remarks that you’ll be hard-pressed to find a senator, dignitary or diplomat that isn’t a bit on edge or nervous about the gala. Fox says it in hopes of it serving to soothe you, rather than make you more nervous. 

“There you are,” he concludes once he’s finished securing the three-strand necklace. You allow him to check the matching earrings to make certain they won’t come loose for good measure. “I admit I may not be the best man when it comes to these kinds of things, but I give it my best effort.” 

Fetching your ivory clutch, you can at last turn to thank him once Commander Fox reports the ivory accessories are both secure. “Thank you, Commander. Fortunately I’m not looking for the very best, only a bit of help. I would say that it’s hardly a contest that you’ve been among the very best in providing an immense amount of help this week.” Your favorite pair of shocktroopers share in Aspen’s giggling amusement as Commander Fox maintains his professionalism rather than fully internalizing the compliment you’ve tried to pay him. 

“Thank you, ma’am: but I don’t believe I can take all the credit. My men have shown around-the-clock commitment to this assignment that I couldn’t be more proud of.” 

With a boisterous laugh, Sayber bravely advises his superior officer on what to say. “Now’s not the time to be all modest and humble, sir! No buts – just tell her thank you!” He’s close enough to still being considered a Shiny that Sayber can get away with speaking to a brother of higher ranking in a semi-teasing manner, and he knows it. 

Commander Fox knows it too. “You’re right, you’re right…” he relents, beginning to fix parts of his armor in a bid to stall for more time. Starting with the vambraces, he straightens them out like he’s adjusting a pair of cufflinks. “Thank you, ma’am. It is my hope that both you and Senator Aspen have felt nothing less than complete assurance in the security force I have tirelessly maintained.”

Finding it satisfactory, Sayber quickly concludes with “That’s better, sir!” after you and your friend confirm there have been no concerns in your armed escorts at any given point. 

There isn’t much time you can afford to waste, having to take alternative transport that would be kinder on any formalwear than a gunship. While helping you board the other transport, Naran politely comments on the care you’ve put into your appearance for tonight and offers his hope that you have a nice time. Doing so now just in case he doesn’t get a chance later. The same sentiment is then offered to Aspen as they are helped aboard after you. 

Fuck. You’re really gonna miss these guys when all of this is over. 

You’ll miss Naran and Sayber’s playful bickering, the way they shout “Ulyc, di’kut!” at each other when the other does something foolish. You’ll miss the pilots who have flown you over the more beautiful parts of the upper-city when there’s been time to kill; like Umate and Monument Plaza, even some of your old haunts from before. 

Miss the games of fetch with Grizzer to reward her for a good job, the meals that have been shared, and the stories of how these boys got their names. 

But most of all, you’ll miss the crimson commander.

It didn’t matter that he was rather aloof and distant. How he kept things almost strictly business. That he’s never once taken off his helmet in front of you. Only ever nodding, never showing you if his smile dimpled his left cheek like most of his brothers. Or that he never told you how he came by “Fox” for his name. Whether it had been one he claimed, or something he earned. 

Because that wouldn’t be what you’d miss Commander Fox for. 

You’d miss him for never drawing more attention to himself than he had to, shying from such spotlights in the interest of giving them to his brothers instead. Miss him for the unwavering politeness he’s had for you, treating you no differently than he would for another galactic senator, or even the Chancellor. 

All this security, all this red, had been the most reassuring feeling you’ve had all week. And it won’t be easy to say goodbye, to any of it. 

Or to Commander Fox. 

Between the sound of spirited chatter, ceaseless pop-and-chop of photographers’ camera shutters and lively, swelling music, entering the formal venue before the official start of the celebration proves easily-overwhelming near-instantaneously. 

Getting here early offers you time to acclimate. Elation and excitement should eventually find you, but there will be time to find somewhere to cool off, if necessary. It also serves as a chance for the Chancellor to visit with Aspen, hoping to speak and hear how they’ve been since Commander Fox had been appointed for protection, as well as to ask about his performance. 

The visit is kept brief, but your friend stresses the shared satisfaction you have in all Fox—and the rest of the Guard for that matter—has done for you before agreeing to speak more privately and at-length the following morning. The Chancellor is not here to detract from the hopeful enjoyment of the occasion for either of you; soon enough you are left free to enjoy the entertainment and pursue the available catering. 

It became apparent most of the music played tonight came from Naboo, much like the Chancellor - written by some of her people’s most respected and well-known composers. And much of the food was extravagant, tables showcasing what your own credits could never hope to see with plate after plate of hors d’oeuvres beyond your ability to even name. Same went for the drinks when you were unable to locate any cards or signage. 

The Commander quickly proves rather knowledgeable when you blindly select a sparkling crystal flute, scrutinizing the bubbling contents with a puzzling expression after it fails recognition by smell alone.  

“What’s this…?”

“Prized champagne provided by Pantora, ma’am. It’s recently proved rather popular.” Fox explains, hands moving from carefully held at his side to folded neatly behind his back as he approaches closer to the table. 

“And what about the tall and skinny glass, or the one with a short stem and large bowl?”

An erroneously-named Mantell mixer in the highball glass, supplied from a different planet in the Mid Rim. The snifter is a robust brandy reportedly of Wayyl origin. Commander Fox can only tell you what he’s heard when it comes to if they are any good, refraining from making any kind of decision for you or presuming what you would like. There are other drinks reported to be stationed throughout the venue, if none of them appear to be to your liking. If you would prefer something non-alcoholic, he knows where the sparkling cider can be found. 

You decide you’ll be starting off safe with the cider, for the time being. Less decision fatigue than coming up with an unfamiliar, strong drink to try. He again helps with identifying the human-suitable foods for you and Aspen to sample. That’s when you realize Fox is utilizing sensors and scanners built into his ‘bucket’ rather than strictly being knowledgeable upon a sharp pause in his explanation. 

“The cured meat is supposed to pair best with… no, wait. Damn artificial intelligence pulled up a recipe blog.” 

And rather than pressuring you to engage every instance, Aspen encourages you to go explore the venue instead of listening to them catch up with many of their fellow senators. Knowing who you’ll likely prefer for company (but might be too bashful to openly say), they give you their “blessing” to take Fox as your escort in the meantime. 

“Why don’t you go exploring for a while, dear friend? Just so I don’t bore you; I promise I’ll let you know if Senator Amidala or Chuchi are able to stop by before I catch up with you so you can decide if you want to say hello. I’ll ask Naran and Sayber to stay with me in the meantime. Perhaps the Marshal Commander can go with you… If he doesn’t mind?” 

The commander offers a cordial nod prior to replying. “Not at all, Senator Aspen.” He would be happy to, in fact. And though he will not be leading you, Fox is even offering to take you by the arm. 

You can attribute it to his work ethic and find it applicable etiquette for such a grand event. Considering there is both a chivalrous and protective tone to such a gesture, this is not a measure of control through the imbalance of a power dynamic. He is not here to dictate where you are permitted to go. 

Simply put, he’s here with no other intentions but to accompany you no matter where you go, and to comment as necessary as he listens to whatever you have to say. So when Commander Fox finds you quiet after some time, he surprises you by asking what’s on your mind. 

“Thought you would be making a small amount of commentary, ma’am. Something weighing on your thoughts?” 

Blinking in surprise, you chew over the thought of how honest you should be. “Well… there is something.” Unable to see through that impassible visor and faceplate, the hope of seeing this particular Clone’s face flickers anew. 

“S-someone…” comes the clarification. 

“Senator Aspen?” 

It’s less of a risk for him to hazard this guess, but it doesn’t make the mark. 

“No. No, not my friend.” 

After a pregnant pause, you confess that it’s him that weighs on your thoughts when he does not ask. “I can’t… I can’t get you out of my mind.” Your reasons are innumerable, and strange even to yourself. You’re not sure what explanation you can give Commander Fox that would likely not be found comforting, innocent or even sane. 

So you expect him to politely pull away. To put up walls of professionalism stronger than before. To kindly but firmly establish some boundaries. (Hell: it would hurt, but you could understand if he didn’t do it so kindly.) If you were slowly stoking the fires to a potential friendship, you might’ve just gone and done the one thing to completely stomp it out. 

And by hearing yourself say it, it sounds far more romantic than you might have intended it to. “Wait, sorry- I… I meant that very generally.” Attempting to clarify this now feels like a weak excuse to cover up that you’re backpedaling, but it’ll keep you up at night far longer if you don’t at least try. 

Commander Fox, surprisingly, does not suggest he is the least bit perturbed. Not by your admission. Not by your apology. Not even by the way you try to create distance from him yourself and begin to anxiously attempt to pull your arm free. 

An earnest “I believe you.” is all that is needed to stop you in your tracks. The gala, now well in full-swing, feels as though it is slowing down around the two of you as you feel very foolish – just staring at the red-armored commander. “I know what that sounded like. But I believe you.” he continues, now with insistence. 

“You-? You do?”

Starting with the soft use of your name, he again promises that he does - even going on to say why. 

“I’ve spent all week watching how you treat and interact with my brothers. Hearing how you speak to my men. And you’re always kind. You make honest efforts to remember their names and have a friendly word to say. Always expressing appropriate gratitude. All of it shows that you care about them, that you’re a good person.

“And good people are often honest people.” 

The work Commander Fox does for the Chancellor, the Senate, all of Coruscant… it’s thankless. What work he is thanked for is done with insincerity, often disingenuous and callous and empty. Senators like Aspen are a rarity. Ordinary people, people like you, are the most likely to thank him for his work outside of his bonds within the GAR. 

But you’re different even among ordinary people. You have truly meant your thanks each and every time he’s done what’s been asked of him. And you wouldn’t yet know it, but it has led to Commander Fox becoming so hopelessly wrapped around your little finger in the reddest thread in hopes of tasting such genuine kindness. Such a response couldn’t be conditioned or trained out of him. 

He may be a Clone, but he was not a perfect copy. Not of Jango Fett. Not of any of his brothers. It was part of that Factor H as described by Fett more than a decade ago to the Kaminoan cloners, likely before the commander’s own creation. 

‘H’ for ‘Human’. And humans… they have a base, instinctual need for forming connections with the people around them. It’s why isolation proves so detrimental. As a soldier, it was an unspoken expectation to simply not acknowledge those kinds of consequences to his formative years. 

Created in a high-tech petri dish. Decanted from a tube. Together forged by fire with a living sea of brothers. Getting planted on the singular-most crowded planet in this entire kriffing galaxy, where his failure to protect the heart of the Republic meant having to listen to more reports of dying vode. 

But tonight, he’s here, thinking of asking to dance in all of his blood-red armor with one of the most beautiful women at the gala. Having lost a complete sense of elapsing time, the two of you had been standing just on the inside to a respectably-sized dance floor when the venue appeared to be cueing up for either the first, or another of the largest shared dances. 

There’s no time to be coy about asking if you want to join your friend waiting off to the side, now that they and his shocktroopers have found the two of you. It appeared Aspen intended to have joined you, but it was now too late to step into the designated floorspace. There would still be time to step out. 

“Would you like to join your friend?” Fox politely offers. 

Historically, you and Aspen had platonically partaken in these duo-dances together owing to your closeness and long-stand friendship. Usually at some point during the night if Aspen was preoccupied with other senatorial attendees, but often at the first available opportunity. Dare you ask for another of their blessings to break a long-standing tradition?

“Aspen, I think I-”

“Go. There’ll be other dances!” Aspen urges, interrupting. They’re smiling, a promising sign you had worried for nothing. 

Hopeful, Commander Fox extends his hand out to you. A quiet offering. An implied invitation. If you’re going to accept, it has to be soon. “Another dance, then.” you promise to your friend, carefully trading off items like the ivory clutch in order to free up your hands. 

Naran suggests a crucial change before you can take the commander’s outstretched hand and join him further into the showfloor. 

“Sir! Your helmet!” 

“Right, right.”

This song with a famously long lead-in allows for the ordinarily simple unsealing and removal of the commander’s headgear to transform into something a bit more preformative, if rather hurried. With a polite doffing befitting of the high-class nature of the event, Fox removes the recently-polished helmet and allows you to see his face for the very first time since meeting earlier that week. It is then directly taken by Naran away from the dance floor, surrendered to his care and subsequently forgotten not long after. 

Following Fox, he leads you slightly deeper into the dancing crowd with a rhetorical “Shall we, ma’am?” where the two of you assume the appropriate starting position just before the lead-in concludes, and the dance number finally commences.

As a ballroom piece common to the Core Worlds, you’re given more than enough time to study the charming face of your dance partner as the two of you step through the poised and elegant choreography. 

While there is perhaps some truth to the erroneous adage “If you see one Clone’s face, you’ve seen them all!”, you are wholly committed to determining what little traits set him apart from his brothers while you have the chance. And kindly, the commander allows you to do so, encourages you to do so. 

“Do I look like you imagined?”

Mostly yes. But also, no. 

While he had the same round ala to his nose, there was faint scarring across the bridge you hadn’t yet seen in any of his brothers. (You would find others; one cutting into the arch of his right brow, and a freshly-pinked nick that tucked under his jaw on the left.) Fox’s eyes were the same, soulful brown; with an additional intensity that was hard to completely identify. A soft five-o-clock shadow along his jaw, now that you hadn’t expected. Or the touches of gray blending out in the dark waves and tight curls of his hair. 

You admit you’re starting to wish he’d taken off his helmet sooner, even though he was only doing his job… A long-suffering job that allowed you to even be here to begin with. If it wasn’t for him, your long visit home just to see Aspen would never have happened. Not the way it did. Without him, without the Guard, your friend would have asked you to take the first shuttle returning to your new home. 

You can’t even begin to fathom how you could possibly thank him enough for everything they’ve done to protect Aspen and get you to this point. 

“That won’t be necessary,” Fox pledges, both his voice and his smile tender. The dimpling in his left cheek is the most pronounced amongst any of the Guardsmen. A golden warmth that softens the watchful depths in his eyes. All of it brightens your heart with euphoria, pulse already keeping time to the soaring peaks of the strings’ music. 

When the song calls for those assuming the position of the dance’s “gentlemen” to pull their partner close, the Marshal Commander fits you so perfectly against his armor in order to make himself heard. 

His voice becomes softer—fonder—in the delicate shell of your ear. 

“But I know you’ll probably try...”

As the music begins the winding-down, Fox’s vambrace begins to squeal - an abrupt, demanding tone disrupting the pleasant, vulnerable moment between you. Needing to answer it, you assist him by depressing the instructed buttons after lowering the volume per his instructions. 

“CC-4477 to Commander Fox! We have the suspect behind Senator Aspen’s attempted assassination in our custody!” 

Fox does not reply right away, but rather he eyes the open comlink with a degree of great pride. But there is also great reluctance. After everything you’ve told him, after everything he’s told you, the long-shot he’s taken in asking to dance with you amidst all this formality and decorum, he has to leave now?

“Well done, Thire. Tell Commander Thorn-”

No. 

No, maybe just this once, he can get away with not answering a summons instantaneously. His duty may be to the Republic, but man of his honor his duty is also still to you. As of now, he is still charged with protecting you and the senator. It becomes socially acceptable to leave the gala without staining one’s reputation fifteen minutes from now, after these large, shared dances. His men can handle the suspect until then. 

Fox will not allow your standing to suffer now simply because of him. 

“Sir?”

“Tell Thorn I’m still wrapped up pretty tight here. Might take fifteen minutes to disentangle her and Senator Aspen from the gala. Maybe more.” Fox’s focused expression changes to one of warmth when the word “her” parts his lips, while his voice retains its authoritative tone. 

There’s a long silence on the other end of the comm before Thire comes up with a reply. 

“Understood, Commander. Thire out.”

Breathless and head light, you’re reeling with relief and elation that they’ve captured their suspect. This is the beginning of the end of Aspen’s nightmare. Your nightmare. But where there is joy, there too comes sorrow, knowing your time in Commander Fox’s company is coming to an end. Maybe not tonight, maybe not in the morning. But soon enough, you will part ways and return to your regular lives…

“I can’t believe they got the guy… Thank the stars, it’s finally over. If we need to leave so you can-”

“No, mesh’la,” Commander Fox interrupts you before his voice turns almost pleading. The song may now be over, but there is still music that can be danced to. Still time that he can spend with you. “Let me be a selfish man for once… Fifteen minutes is all I ask.”

Maybe fifteen minutes… can be a good place to start. 

Everything will still be there after fifteen minutes. The suspect, his men, the senator… but the clock will start to run out with you after fifteen minutes. And he’s not ready for that. 

“Okay. Fifteen minutes. We’ll… work out what comes after that.” 

When you’ve spent most of your service dealing with red tape, it’s going to take more than fifteen minutes to unwrap all of it. 

So you’ll make those minutes a very good place to start…

Thank you for making a request for my 200 follower event, Pina! Ended up longer than I initially anticipated even after everything I cut out of it, but I hope you enjoyed it! I apologize for the unexpected delays, so I hope this was well worth the extra time it took me to write it in order for you to read it! And in case anyone is curious why I chose the name "Aspen" for the name of our senator friend here, I took inspiration from the Greek word for shield, 'aspis'. I thought it felt fitting for a story focused around Fox working hard to protect even a complete stranger, being the dutiful and brave man he is. ❤️

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[kvysvdilla]

𝑩𝑬𝒀𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻

idol/Jk x supermodel/reader -Aria Jeong-

GENRE: Romance | Fluff | Celebrity life

Chapter 01

The faint hum of a hairdryer filled the spacious dressing room, mingling with soft chatter and the clinking of makeup brushes against palettes. Aria Jeong sat poised in front of the mirror, her long legs crossed elegantly as the hairstylist put the final touches on her glossy, voluminous waves. Dressed in a silk robe with the initials “AJ” embroidered in gold, she exuded effortless grace—a true image of a supermodel at the height of her career.

Aria Jeong. Born in Seoul in 1998, she had taken the world by storm with her ethereal beauty, striking runway presence, and magnetic personality. She wasn’t just a model; she was a global sensation. With campaigns for Calvin Klein, Gucci, and Chanel under her belt and regular appearances at events like the Met Gala, Victoria Secrets, and even Paris Fashion Week, she had become one of the most recognizable faces in fashion. And now, here she was, preparing for her latest photoshoot for the cover of Vogue.

Aria’s skin, smooth and flawless, glistened under the studio lights as she was pampered by a team of professionals. Her long, dark hair cascaded in soft waves down her back, ready for the dramatic styling that would complete the look. She had been through this routine hundreds of times, but today felt different—there was something electric in the air, something that made her heart race just a little bit faster.

“Aria, you’re going to look amazing for this cover,” Mia, her hairstylist, said with a smile. “We’re going for a bold, confident look today, something that screams high fashion.”

Aria smiled softly, her lips curling into a graceful expression as Mia continued to work. “I trust you, Mia. You always know what’s best,” she replied, her voice steady and calm.

The photographer, Alex, moved around the room with his camera, adjusting the lighting and checking the angles. “How’s the hair, Mia?” he called out, looking over his shoulder.

“Almost done. Just a few more minutes,” Mia answered, finishing the final touches.

Meanwhile, Aria’s assistant, Claire, entered the room with her tablet in hand. “Aria, the fitting for the Victoria’s Secret show is set for tomorrow morning, and the team from Calvin Klien wants to meet you later this afternoon to discuss the upcoming campaign. They’re expecting us at 2 PM. Oh, and don't forget the L'Oréal photoshoot after the meeting.”

Aria nodded in acknowledgment, her focus still on the mirror. “Got it. We’ll be there. Thanks, Claire.”

Claire smiled and quickly left the room, while Aria closed her eyes for a moment, silently preparing herself for the busy day ahead. This was her life now—packed schedules, back-to-back photoshoots, meetings, fittings, and the constant push to stay at the top of the fashion world.

But she had worked hard to get here. Years of dedication, countless hours spent perfecting her craft, and a determination to succeed had brought her to the pinnacle of the modeling industry. Aria Jeong had become a name known around the world, but to her, it was all just the beginning.

“Alright, Aria,” Alex called, snapping her out of her thoughts. “It’s time. Let’s get you into the first outfit.”

Claire returned with a clothing rack filled with various options, including sleek dresses, bold prints, and intricate designs. The first outfit for the photoshoot was a stunning black velvet dress with a deep V-neckline and a dramatic slit that revealed her long, toned legs. It was a classic, elegant look, just the kind of thing that would make the cover of Vogue unforgettable.

Mia and other staffs helped Aria slip into the dress, adjusting the fit around her waist as Aria stood tall and composed. “You look stunning,” Mia said, stepping back to admire her work.

Aria smiled in the mirror, her sharp eyes meeting her reflection. “Thank you Mia.”

As Aria stepped onto the set, the photographer and lighting crew were ready, their eyes focused on her every move. The studio was filled with soft light, creating the perfect ambiance for the photoshoot. Aria stood still for a moment, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. She had done this countless times, but there was always something exciting about being in front of the camera, especially for such a prestigious magazine.

The session began, with Aria effortlessly striking pose after pose. Each movement was fluid, graceful, and deliberate, her body an instrument of perfection as the camera snapped away. She had mastered the art of photography—how to look natural while maintaining an air of elegance, how to convey emotion with just a tilt of the head or a slight shift in posture.

“Beautiful, Aria,” Alex called, his voice full of admiration. “You’re absolutely nailing it. Let’s switch to the next look.”

Mia quickly ushered in the next outfit—a shimmering silver gown that hugged Aria’s figure in all the right places. As Aria changed, she glanced at her phone, checking the time. The day was moving quickly, and she had a tight schedule ahead of her. Between the photoshoot, meetings with various brands, and a rehearsal for the upcoming American Music Awards, she knew it was going to be a long day.

But that was the life of an international supermodel, and Aria had long ago accepted that.

As the photoshoot continued, the minutes turned into hours. Aria remained focused, switching from outfit to outfit, posing with poise and confidence, never once breaking her professional demeanor. There were moments when the intensity of the work started to take its toll, but Aria pushed through—this was her dream, her career, and nothing would stop her.

After wrapping up the Vogue photoshoot, Aria was led into a private space where she could take a breather. The sound of the bustling studio faded as she collapsed onto the plush sofa with her casual outfit that she had changed. It was black button up crop top, pair it with a dark blue tight jeans and a black high heels boots. The weight of a full day’s work already starting to settle in. She checked her phone—Claire’s message about the meeting with Calvin Klein at 2 PM echoed in her mind. It was already 2:30.

The minutes had slipped by quicker than expected, and now it was time for the next task at hand. She had barely time to catch her breath before her assistant appeared at the door. “Aria, your car is waiting. We’re heading to the Calvin Klein office for the meeting,” Claire said, a soft smile on her face, knowing how little time Aria had to rest between her appointments.

Aria nodded, running a hand through her hair and standing up. “Let’s go.”

They walked out into the bustling lobby, where the driver opened the car door for her, and they headed to the Calvin Klein headquarters. As Aria sat back in the plush seat, her thoughts wandered briefly to her upcoming meeting. Calvin Klein had always been a major name in her modeling career. This was more than just a meeting—it was a chance to solidify her place in the industry as one of the most sought-after supermodels.

The car ride was a blur of thoughts, and soon they arrived at the sleek, modern Calvin Klein building. Aria’s high heel boots clicked against the polished marble floors as she entered the building, greeted by a receptionist who led her to the private meeting room. Claire went ahead to ensure everything was ready for the meeting, leaving Aria alone for a moment to gather herself.

The door opened shortly after, and two representatives from Calvin Klein walked in—one, a tall man in his early forties named Mr. Lawrence, who was the head of marketing, and the other, a young woman, Chloe, who had recently joined the team as a creative lead.

“Aria! Thank you for joining us today,” Mr. Lawrence greeted, his voice warm but professional. He gestured for her to sit at the conference table. “We’re really excited to have you on board for this new campaign. We’ve seen your recent work, and you’re exactly what we were looking for.”

Aria smiled politely and nodded, settling into her seat. “I’m honored to be a part of the team.” she said so elegantly.

Chloe, the creative lead, spoke up next, her voice filled with enthusiasm. “For this campaign, we want to capture the essence of modern luxury while maintaining an accessible, everyday feel. It’s all about sophistication but also comfort. The collection is inspired by urban landscapes, so we’re hoping to do something bold and edgy.”

Aria nodded, already visualizing the looks they were describing. The Calvin Klein aesthetic was always sleek and minimalist, but this concept sounded more daring—something that would challenge her versatility as a model. “I like the idea. Bold and edgy is something I’m always up for,” she said, her confidence shining through.

Mr. Lawrence glanced at Chloe before turning back to Aria. “We were hoping to get your thoughts on some of the outfits we’ve picked out. For this campaign, we’re focusing a lot on outerwear and layering, which is right up your alley, considering your experience in high fashion and your collaborations with brands like Gucci and Chanel.”

Chloe clicked through her tablet, bringing up the first few designs on the screen. “This is one of our favorite pieces,” she said, showing Aria an oversized trench coat with dramatic shoulders, paired with tailored trousers. “We’re thinking of using this for the cover image. It’s chic and timeless, but the exaggerated silhouette gives it a very fresh, contemporary look.”

Aria studied the design, picturing herself wearing it. “I love it. I can definitely see this working well with the overall theme.”

The meeting continued, with Mr. Lawrence and Chloe discussing details, such as the photography style, location for the shoot, and the timeline for the campaign. Aria’s mind was engaged, but there was a part of her that couldn’t help but drift away every now and then.

Aria quickly refocused as the conversation shifted to the logistics of the shoot. “We’re planning to do some behind-the-scenes footage for social media as well,” Chloe explained. “It’ll be part of a bigger campaign, so we’ll need to make sure we capture a bit of your personality—how you interact with the clothing, how you move in it. It’ll give the brand a more authentic feel.”

Aria nodded thoughtfully. “I’m excited to be part of that. I always enjoy showing the more relaxed side of things, especially in a campaign as dynamic as this one. It makes it more personal for the audience.”

Mr. Lawrence smiled. “That’s exactly the kind of energy we’re looking for. We want people to see that you’re not just a model, but someone who lives and breathes the essence of what Calvin Klein stands for.”

As the meeting wrapped up, Claire entered the room to let Aria know it was time to head to the next appointment. Aria stood up, shaking hands with both Mr. Lawrence and Chloe. “Thank you both for taking the time today. I’m looking forward to what we’ll create together,” she said, smiling warmly.

After the productive meeting with Calvin Klein, Aria’s day continued its whirlwind pace. She quickly slipped into the waiting car, her mind still buzzing with excitement from the campaign discussion. The next stop on her packed agenda was a photoshoot for L’Oréal, one of the most prestigious makeup brands in the world.

The ride to the L’Oréal studio was a short one, but enough to give her a few minutes of much-needed peace. As the car pulled into the parking lot, she straightened her posture and mentally prepared herself for what would undoubtedly be another busy, high-energy shoot. It had become second nature for Aria to slip into model mode, but there was still a level of excitement every time she worked with a brand she loved. L’Oréal, with its bold and timeless beauty, had always been a dream partnership.

Once inside the spacious studio, she was greeted by a team of hair and makeup artists who had already set up their stations, ready to transform her into the perfect L’Oréal muse. She made her way to the makeup chair, where a plate of fresh salad and an iced peach tea awaited her. She didn’t even need to ask for it anymore—it was always there.

“Yum, this looks perfect,” she said with a smile, grabbing her fork and taking a bite of the salad.

The makeup artist, a cheerful woman in her mid-thirties named Maria, chuckled as she began applying foundation. “You really know how to eat healthy, Aria,” she teased, carefully dabbing at her face with a brush. “But honestly, you’re always glowing, so I guess you have some magic tricks.”

Aria laughed, rolling her eyes. “Oh please, no magic tricks here. It’s all about water, veggies, and a bit of luck.”

As she continued eating, Aria casually flipped open the novel she had been reading during her downtime—The Night Circus, a fantasy story filled with mystery and enchantment. The plot was as gripping as ever, but her attention was soon distracted by the light chatter around her.

“I swear, every time I walk into a store, L’Oréal’s new collection is everywhere,” Maria mused, her hands expertly shaping Aria’s brows. “I love their packaging! It’s always so fresh and sleek.”

“I know, right?” Aria replied between bites of salad, nodding in agreement. “It’s why I love working with them. They’re a brand that understands the balance between timelessness and modernity. They really know what women want.”

“Speaking of women,” Maria continued, “did you hear that they’re planning a huge campaign for next spring? They’re supposed to release a new product that’s going to blow everyone away.”

“No way! That sounds amazing,” Aria said, putting the book down for a moment, genuinely intrigued. “What’s the product? Something new for the lips?”

Maria nodded excitedly. “Exactly! A new lipstick that changes color with your mood—like those mood rings, but for lips.”

“That’s so cool,” Aria said, amused. “I’d love to be part of that campaign.”

Before Maria could respond, the door to the dressing room swung open, and Claire, Aria’s assistant, rushed in. Her face was a mixture of excitement and disbelief, and she was holding her phone tightly in her hand, like she’d just gotten news she wasn’t entirely prepared for.

“Claire?” Aria asked, eyeing her assistant’s wide eyes. “What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Claire didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She immediately walked over to Aria, a bit out of breath. “Aria… you’re not going to believe this,” she said, her voice almost shaky. “I just got off the phone with the AMA’s event manager… they want YOU as one of the announcers for this year’s show.”

For a moment, the entire room fell silent. The makeup artist paused, the brushes in mid-air, as the rest of the staff turned to look at Claire with wide-eyed expressions. Aria’s heart skipped a beat, the sudden surge of excitement making her momentarily forget to breathe.

“You’re joking, right?” Aria asked, half-laughing, half-stunned. Her hand flew up to her mouth as she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She felt like her world had just shifted.

“No,” Claire said, shaking her head in disbelief. “They’re serious! They want you to announce awards during the show. It’s huge, Aria. The biggest award show of the year—and you’re going to be there… on stage.”

The rest of the staff gasped in shock. “That’s incredible!” Maria exclaimed, her eyes widening. “You’re going to be on stage at the AMAs! With all those amazing artists—this is a huge deal!”

The words sank in slowly. Aria blinked a few times, her hand still covering her mouth in disbelief. She never thought her career would take her to this moment. The American Music Awards—one of the biggest and most prestigious events in the industry. And she had just been asked to be a part of it.

“Wait, wait. Are you sure?” Aria asked, her voice soft but filled with wonder. She needed to hear it again to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Positive,” Claire confirmed, a huge grin spreading across her face. “They said it’s all official. You’re one of the chosen announcers. They’ll send over the details in the next few days.”

Aria, still in a bit of shock, sat there for a moment, processing everything. A wave of emotion rushed over her—happiness, excitement, and disbelief all rolled into one. This was it. This was the next step in her career.

The room erupted in cheers, the staff exchanging high-fives and congratulations. Aria couldn’t help but laugh, a wide grin on her face. She was overwhelmed but thrilled at the same time.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at Claire. “The AMAs. This is a huge opportunity.”

“You deserve it,” Claire said, her voice filled with pride. “All your hard work has paid off.”

Aria turned back to the staff, her smile never fading. “Thank you all,” she said, her voice a little shaky from the excitement. “This means so much to me.”

Maria, the makeup artist, was the first to offer her congratulations. “Well, I guess you’ll have to wear something extra special for that night, huh?”

“Oh, definitely,” Aria replied with a playful smile. “I’ve got the perfect outfit in mind.”

As she continued to prepare for her photoshoot with L’Oréal, Aria couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. But even more than that, she felt a growing sense of excitement about what the future held. The AMAs were just the beginning, and she was ready for whatever came next.

Chapter 02 --- Back to Series Masterlist

[world-of-wales]

─ •✧ WILLIAM'S YEAR IN REVIEW : 𝐌𝐀𝐘 ✧• ─

𝟏 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : The Prince of Wales received Mr. Simon Patterson (Vice Chairman, The Royal Foundation) at Windsor. William supported Fields in Trust's #BarkForOurPark Campaign. 𝟐 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : He attended the UEFA Conference League Semi-Final first leg match between Aston Villa & Olympiakos at Villa Park. 𝟕 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William received the Lord Janvrin (Chairman, The Queen Elizabeth Memorial Committee) at Windsor Castle. He received the Lord Hague of Richmond (Chairman, The Royal Foundation) at Windsor Castle. 𝟖 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William held an Investiture at Windsor Castle. 𝟗 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : The Duke of Cornwall started his two-day tour of the Duchy of Cornwall. He spent the day in Newquay and was received by His Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Cornwall (Colonel Sir Edward Bolitho) at the site of the new Nansledan Housing Project. Afterwards, he met lifeguards and volunteers of the Royal National Lifeboat Institution at Fistral Beach. He met representatives of the Hollywell Bay & Newquay Surf Life Saving Clubs. Later, he arrived at St Agnes in the Isles of Scilly where he visted Troytown Farms & spent time with the community during a picnic. 𝟏𝟎 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William spent the day in Isles of Scilly. He was received by Mrs. Jane Hartley (Deputy Lieutenant of Cornwall) at the Quay, St. Mary's. He visited St. Mary's Harbour and met crew from the 2024 World Pilot Gig Championships. Later, he visited St. Mary's Hospital in Belmont. The Duke of Cornwall also privately took part in a nature walk with Isles of Scilly Wildlife Trust. 𝟏𝟏 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : He appeared in a video message during the Steve Irwin Gala. 𝟏𝟐 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William appeared in a video message during BAFTA TV Awards. He sent out a tweet congratulating Manchester United WFC on their Vitality FA Cup Win. 𝟏𝟑 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : The Prince of Wales was officially appointed as the Colonel-in-Chief of the Army Air Corps by King Charles III. Subsequently, he visited the Army Air Corps at the Army Aviation Centre. Kensington Palace released two unseen photos from 1999 and 2008 featuring William to mark the occasion. 𝟏𝟓 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William released a personal tweet congratulating Aston Villa for their Champions League qualification. 𝟏𝟔 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William attended "World Together Solving the Antibiotic Emergency" Conference at the Royal Society and was received by Deputy Lieutenant of Greater London (Reverend Canon Dr. Flora Winfield). Later in the evening he hosted a Reception at St. James's Palace. William also appeared in a video message to mark the 10th anniversary of the Elephant Initiative. 𝟏𝟕 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : Kensington Palace marked Mental Health Awareness Week via social media. Additionally, the Duchy of Cornwall unveiled funding plans of the Duchy Mental Health Strategy providing their farmers with access to support. 𝟐𝟏 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : The Prince of Wales received Major General James Bowder (General Officer Commanding London District and Major General Household Division, Welsh Guards). In the afternoon, he hosted a garden party at Buckingham Palace. 𝟐𝟐 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William held an Investiture at Windsor Castle. 𝟐𝟓 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William and Catherine released a personal tweet offering condolences on the passing of an RAF pilot at RAF Coningsby. William and George attended the Emirates FA Cup Final between Manchester City Football Club and Manchester United Football Club at Wembley Stadium. He also send out congratulations via a tweet. 𝟐𝟕 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William and Catherine sent a letter to Tracey Morris offering condolences for her husband, Peter's death. 𝟐𝟖 𝐌𝐀𝐘 : William and Catherine were out shopping at a deli in Holt, Norfolk.

[umadosedepascal]

P E D R O P A S C A L

O N L Y

__ FIC REQUEST OPEN __

SERIES

(Banners are here)

NEW MEXICO(PART IX)- Pedro asks you to spend his birthday together with you. You just go.

W I N N E R(PART VIII) - You couldn’t attend SAG awards but Pedro meets you late in the night to celebrate.

O U C H (PART VII) - You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.

B O A T (PART VI) - Today is your last day in Malta. Pedro will be back to work, and you also need to return to your routine. Pedro wants your last day to be wonderful, nothing like a surprise with a perfect end. The three most intense days of your life.

COME FIND ME (PART V) - Pedro promised you a weekend, but an unforeseen event changes everything. Maybe he's a fan of surprises, maybe he can find you.

72 HOURS WITH HIM (PART IV) - The shooting in Malta keeps going, all Pedro needs is a weekend off, well…he got it. Would you go meet him for only three days? Hmmm yes!

PEDRO SOLO (PART III) - The days are long and exhausting, Pedro has a huge hotel room, hot tub ... But he is missing something, could you help him?

LOSING GAME (PART II) - You meet Pedro again not just to take back your panties. He wants to play a game, who’s going to lose?

HIGH MILES CLUB (PART I) - After partying hard at Met Gala making out with you in the bathroom and later taking you to his hotel room in NY, he finds something inside his red overcoat pocket in the middle of the airport. But it doesn’t stop, more unexpected and hot things happens during his flight back home.

ONE SHOT

(Banners are here)

🔥DIRTY HOLIDAY - You go with friends spend the holidays in Mexico, such a coincidence to be at the same resort as Pedro. What a world, so small huh?

MEET ME AT THE SET - Pedro is THE GENERAL, babe!

CORONA, MEXICO - You got invited by Corona to be an extra on the new “La vida mas fina” campaign at the beach. Even if was only one single scene, maybe just 10 seconds of screen you would be more than happy because the main reason was him…Pedro.

MASTERCHEF FAIL - With a busy schedule, Pedro finds some time to spend with you. You promised him to cook his favorite food. Maybe things get out of hand and dessert comes before dinner.

PURPLE IS THE HOTTEST COLOR - After having a difficult day, Pedro meets you, no patience, no time for conversations.Pedro only has one desire in mind: you here and now, no matter if anyone will see you.

————————————————

PEDRO I M A G I N E

🔥 I’m into submission…

It’s 3 in the morning…

Hey, I’m looking at you…

What a smile…

You wearing his purple shirt…

Pedro eat pussy drawing

Pedro eat pussy part II

————————————————

Who are Santa Trindade

Gringa is on her late 30’s totally addicted to Pascal for the latest years (she doesn’t know what happened) although she’s following his work since 2019 because she is a Star Wars nerd and fell in love with a mandalorian 🤷🏻‍♀️. Her favorite Pedro boy is Javi Gutierrez because he is chubby and funny (Pedro vibes almost 100%).

What makes her wet is when Pedro: slide his finger on his lips while giggling.

Good vibes: if she had a date with Pedro she thinks she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day 🥲

——

@missyorkswhore is on her late 20’s and noticed Pedro when her uncle was watching Narcos, she saw Javier and asked him “wow, who’s that stach guy?”. A couple years later she finally got into Narcos and you know…she still want to marry Peña.

She loves when Pedro raises his eyebrow, and when he speaks Spanish [she thinks she can get wet in a fraction of seconds if he speaks like that to her in bed] ah and of course when he screams WHAT TOWN!!! as Joel.

Fave character obviously: DAVE FUCKING YORK (killer king)

[whoisthispersonwow]

Hello people of tumblr! :)

I am not used to using this app but I thought i would give it a shot as the fandom works featured here are straight up the best things i've found on the internet, and the community seems just AMAZING on all regards!!! So I thought, yk, that I would share my ideas for this AU fic that perhaps maybe I would write sometimes...... idk....

Actor Bucky x Model Buck

Set in the 90s, this AU follows this rough outline : despite the 90s being a time of counterculture for the youth, (grunge, alternative movies being pushed forward and towards larger audiences) and being out of the 80s and all it entails (glam rock and so on) there was this paradoxally reinforced idea of masculinity (leather jackets, men having to be "strong", etc.) and lattent ideas of homosexuality being a "bad, filthy thing" in some places, interlinked with the misinformations concerning the HIV epidemic (if you're gay, you'll get AIDS, you'll die in a few months, all this stuff), which causes the Bucks have to hide their relationship from the public in fear of retaliation and backlash.

Buck is a male model, in a decade in which supermodels are emerging, and put on a pedestal : it's a decent job for him, despite not being a Claudia Schiffer or a Kate Moss (as female models, especially in that decade, were getting paid way more than male models, and overall just represented couture houses more than men did.). People know his face, he's had a few campaigns, but it's not enough to make him one of the A-list celebrities, not that he minds. He's slimmer than what is the norm for male models, but compensates it with his face : it is his strength as much as his weakness concerning bookings. He is known by his peers as this wise and generally kind man, not overly flairy as people can sometimes be in their industry, and overall very discreet about his personal life. He is extremely professional, a master of his craft that knows exactly what is expected of him at any time.

Bucky, on the other hand, is an actor. Freshly discovered among the rest of a new generation of actors, he climbs steadily and surely his way to the top, and has people from all over the USA watching his career with interest. He acts in movies which in our timeline would feel like "The Matrix" ; "Trainspotting" ; "Fight Club", and all of those sorts of very "mainstream yet still posessing their bit a flair" movies. He's extending his choices and taking more risks, ones that could perhaps lead him to great rewards (not that he is especially looking for it : Bucky would be content to act in a short movie by a middle schooler if it was done with love and passion.) Charming, bubbly, he is loved by many of teenage girls (and others, ofc :p). Everyone has a story about Bucky, be it good or bad. "Oh yeah, he bought me a car when mine broke down" says a make-up artist on a set. "He got so drunk he forgot I was here and punched me square in the face when i got up to pee" says his friend Curt Biddick.

(i made an ugly ass moodboard for the vibes)

-> now i'm gonna dump random infos for no particular reasons

TW : mentions of drugs, alcohol, homophobic cliches.

-They met at a party/gala of some sort for a brand, for which Buck modeled and Bucky was ambassador : it didn't click right away, but closely enough for it to feel like fate played a part in it.

-Buck is kind of excluded during parties as he's fully sober, whether it's from drugs or alcohol : a rarity, in the modeling world, and often not a welcome one.

-Bucky on the other hand, is a bit too much of a party monster : he drinks a lot, perhaps snorts a little cocaine in the bathroom, takes a little speed... Which GREATLY concerns Buck.

-Bucky is as cocky in his confidence and his career as he fears (and represses A LOT) the possibility of everything tumbling down and just going back to being nobody (THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE LOVED BY EVERYONE)

-He's terrified that fame will change him, that he will become a parody version of himself, that people will only know and like the version of himself he presents them and nothing else, not seeing his worth as a person, as an individual of flesh and feelings.

-Between the two of them, he's the one who desperately wants to tell the general audience about their relationship, not caring about the consequences, because in his eyes, love is love, and there sure as hell ain't nothing wrong with loving Gale Cleven, and people should know that he loves him, that they love each other, that they're a pair, that life only ever feels complete when they stand side by side, hanging in each other's orbits. They sometimes argue over this.

-Buck, on the other hand, wishes for their relationship to stay a secret, as he fears if it was to be known, it would taint Bucky's image, this very manly, confident and suave man, mingle it with dumb cliches (in a gay couple one is a "Folle" and the other has to be effeminate, because they're like GIRLS yk) and that it would basically ruin his career, tarnish his talent and hard work, get him blacklisted from most studios/directors and only perhaps offered type-casted roles in homophobic movies written by straight men. Buck could not stand seeing the love of his life being disgraced in the public's eyes, just because of some dumbass cliches, because of his love for him.

-Marjorie (Marge) covers for Buck. She's his front : They are seen dining together and huddling on benches by paparazzis, giggling and talking as they walk in the street, and that's enough. Their story makes people dream, these two young people who grew up together and fell in love, still a couple until this day, still loving each other as much as they did on the first day... They are a lavender couple (when both member of a relationship are queer, and use their couple to cover any suspicions) which helps making Buck and Bucky seem like just buddies. Marjorie is most likely not famous, or if so, she'd be more of a writer than anything else.

-Bucky is EXTREMELY jealous and FUMES whenever he cannot kiss Buck in public, touch him, do his little Bucky things, make Buck feel his. Despite that, he's sort of reckless and allows himself gestures that would not fly were the two men not viewed as pinacle of masculinity and a great example of brotherly love. Buck can't even bring himself to ressent him for it, and does not hold it against him : he too wishes they could hold hands on red carpets.

-Bucky is basically a disaster waiting to happen at some point, a pressure cooker dangerously whistling : he bottles everything he feels, just grits his teeth and says he's fine when dark times arise, drowns himself in alcohol and wishes to forget about his worries, thinks about simpler times when he had none at all. Gale stays by his side, no matter what, no matter his terrifying relationship with alcohol and the memories of his father.

-They live together, despite the risks : Buck couldn't bear having to say no to Bucky when he bought their appartment with a huge check from the royalties he earned over his first blockbuster. It is approprietly cozy : most of the decorum is Buck's doing, but Bucky's things still find their ways in there ; baseball posters, pictures, awards and silly little drawings on stick-it notes... It feels like home, to both of them.

-They probably have bought some sort of ranch or farm, somewhere, to run away from the city when things get crazy : they bask reverently in the fact that there, nothing they do or say matters, watching the sunsets on their patios, enjoying the melody of nature without any civilization.

That's pretty much it for now, I'll most likely add things later! :D I'm begging you to excuse any mistake I made, i'm just a poor French person trying her best. Don't hesitate to tell me how you feel and stuff, I am so nervous to make this post you can't imagine lmaoo

To end things, I guess I'll just post an extract of a wip, a written transcription of a fake interview Bucky probably had on some talk show!!! :]

[dostoyevsky-official]

How Long Can the Alliance Between Tech Titans and the MAGA Faithful Last?

On Sunday evening, the night before Donald Trump’s second inauguration, scores of luminaries from across the New Right are expected to gather for a dinner and gala called the Coronation Ball at the Watergate Hotel. The event is being hosted by the young right-wing publishing house Passage Press, known for publishing the neoreactionary writer Curtis Yarvin — one of the earliest of those luminaries, most famous for advocating a monarchy “run like a start-up.”

Today, this upstart coalition of thinkers may be best described simply as the intellectual wing of Trumpism. “Celebrate the inauguration of Donald J. Trump,” the publishing house announced, “with the people and organizations that will shape the culture in his second term.”

The ball will celebrate more than the recoronation of a president. It seems intended to mark the ascent of a new counterelite with aspirations to supplant the existing establishment in everything from high politics to business and culture. But this is a loose alliance, colored by rivalries and complex divisions. It has brought together people who previously had little in common.

It’s a gap in worldviews that went overlooked in the heady days of the campaign. When Elon Musk endorsed Mr. Trump, putting a great deal of personal money and energy into the project of MAGA populism, he joined figures like the venture capitalist and podcaster David Sacks and the crypto exchange founder Tyler Winklevoss in what represents one of the most surprising and disruptive alliances in American political history. Tech emerged as an alternate power center to the Republican establishment. Silicon Valley money filled in for dollars lost from the traditional donor class. As the presidential transition took shape, tech figures stepped in to supply elite human capital, as they put it, to staff the new administration. All the biggest tech companies made sure to offer a $1 million tribute to help fund the inauguration.

But the core of the aspiring Trumpian aristocracy are still reactionaries and nationalists aching to restore an American way of life thought to be lost after decades of what they see as globalist technocracy. They are often deeply skeptical of the idea that the innovations promised by tech companies represent progress, and they describe America as “not just a country, not just an economy but a people with a common history,” as Jeremy Carl, a deputy assistant secretary of the interior in the first Trump administration and a senior fellow at the Claremont Institute, told me. The tech figures who came to the movement in 2024 were often sympathetic to Trumpian nationalism. But they tended to be more interested in making money and launching a new era of American dynamism.

[...] The debate has genuinely high stakes, heading in the first days of a wildly ambitious presidential administration. People like Mr. Bannon see the tech right almost as an fundamental enemy to the natural human order they wanted to restore. More moderate allies on the MAGA side just hope to keep things calm and friendly. If a true conflict emerges, Mr. Trump himself might well end up siding with the part of the coalition that offers vast supplies of cash and new friends socializing and scheming with him down at Mar-a-Lago.

The coalition is achingly close to achieving a long-held conservative dream — of fashioning a high-low alliance powerful enough to supplant the liberal establishment and remake America. It is a project that might well collapse if one side or the other gets too much of what it wants and ends up driving the other away.

[...] “I think the tech right is going to win in the short term,” said Razib Khan, a geneticist and tech consultant who is friendly with many figures in both the MAGA and tech right spheres. As he saw it, the talent and money were mostly on the side of tech.

“The tech right is pro-American,” he said. But it’s pro-American in the sense that they see America as “an empire that takes over the world and goes interplanetary.” This was too rationalist of an approach for many on the MAGA side, which is shaped in large part by Christian faith and, at least for some, a belief that America should be a homeland for “heritage” Americans, of Northern European extraction. They are “not excited about the American Empire,” he said, or racing into space. They care more about the values of a “pre-1960s America, the values of a Western civilization.”

[thorias]

Since season 2 looks to be so jam-packed with stuff, I thought it would be fun to try to break down the episodes using the stories continuing from season 1 and the spoilery bits we learned from D23 and... yeah, there's a lot here.

I'm just making educated guesses right now, but I could easily see this happening in the show.

2x01 - Ancient Egypt. 'Rise of Apocalypse' adaptation. The team helps En Sabah Nur defeat Rama-Tut and Rogue makes her Faustian deal with him to get Remy resurrected. Bishop shows up at the end to collect everyone.

2x02 - The Future. 'Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix' adaptation. Scott and Jean spend some time raising teenage Nathan and are warned of the horrors that would be unleashed upon the world if Apocalypse were to ever rise to power. Bishop and the others show up at the end and the X-men return to the present.

2x03 - Present day. Bottle episode focusing on Forge's makeshift team, presumably consisting of some combination of Cable, Havok, Polaris, Iceman, Colossus, Archangel, Shadowcat and Emma Frost. They deal with the continuing fallout of Genosha/Asteroid M/the EMP and the ensuing chaos as Graydon Creed is poised to win the presidential election. Apocalypse begins positioning his chess pieces. The new Four Horsemen (let's say Deathbit, Madelyne/Pestilence, Shaw/War and Dazzler/Famine) make their first appearance and give the team a thrashing. The X-men return from the past/future at the end.

2x04 - The X-men are reunited, get caught up on everything they missed while they were gone and find Jubilee wherever she is. Magneto attempts to mend fences with Lorna, but it goes horribly since he did after all try to wipe out all life on Earth while she was, ya' know, on Earth. She doesn't forgive him, but convinces him to turn himself over to the authorities and answer for his crimes. Mags' second trial goes much worse for him than the first one did and he's thrown in a plastic prison like in X2; the last we see of him for a while (probably wishful thinking on my part, but you never know). Rogue leaves to search for Deathbit.

2x05 - Rogue confronts Deathbit. It goes horribly. She tries to absorb the Death persona out of him like she once did for Archangel, but Apocalypse has accounted for her powers this time and Deathbit is immune to them now. She's forced to fight him, shocked by Deathbit's ferocity and resentment toward her and not yet understanding what she needs to do to break Apocalypse's hold on Remy. The battle ends in a stalemate. Rogue is left confused and heartbroken as Deathbit escapes.

2x06 - Wolverine spotlight. Logan travels to Japan, searching for a way to get his adamantium back (I don't like this happening so soon, but we can assume from the D23 sneak peek that it'll probably go this way). He seeks out Lady Deathstrike since her father created the adamantium bonding process and has to fight Sabretooth for it.

2x07 - Nightcrawler spotlight. With the election looming, Kurt confronts his half-brother Graydon. It goes horribly. Mystique reveals herself, having infiltrated Graydon's campaign months earlier. Kurt tries to make peace with his family, but neither of them are interested in peace. The episode ends with Mystique assassinating Graydon and her continued allegiance to Apocalypse is revealed. She then takes Graydon's form and replaces him, meaning Apocalypse would control the White House if Mystique/Creed wins the election.

2x08, 9 & 10 - On the eve of the election, Apocalypse makes his move, committing acts of terrorism, giving Mystique/Creed more ammunition for the anti-mutant campaign Creed was running on, which Apocalypse has been secretly fomenting in order to provoke a human/mutant war. Xavier aides Rogue as she faces Deathbit again, allowing her to confront Remy on the psychic plane. He recreates the gala scene from 'Remember It' in Deathbit's mind, so Rogue can undue that little blunder by dancing with Remy this time and finally confessing her true feelings. Remy learns that Rogue had chosen him, not Magneto, and that she really does love Remy, which gives him the motivation to fight off the Deathbit persona. Meanwhile, the X-men battle the remaining Horsemen and Apocalypse. They're losing badly until a re-adamantiumed Wolverine, Xavier and Rogue, with Gambit, now free of Apocalypse's influence, arrive to turn the tide. Poccy is defeated, and with his machinations revealed, the public is swayed and President Kelly is re-elected.

Afterward, Gambit is back with the team, though he's left with trauma and PTSD from his death and resurrection. Xavier and the X-men are lauded as heroes in the media, so public perception is back on their side and things are looking up for a change... but unbeknownst to everyone, something is not right with Xavier as we get our first hint of Onslaught for season 3.

I think this accounts for every storyline we've confirmed so far, (or most of them at least) but that's just the stuff we've heard about. Who knows what else they've got in store for us that they haven't revealed yet. I'm crossing my fingers that we get longer episodes in s2 because they're definitely going to need more time to cover all this.

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Looking forward to this prompt like always.

maybe they get slightly jealous while out, so they grab onto their partner's hand to establish their relationship

here it is! I have no idea what I just wrote but, you know, here we go:

—-

The Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala. If anything in Maura’s life is a black tie affair, it’s this. It comes once a year, in May, just as the spring gives way to summer temperatures, and, unfortunately, when the nascent MLB season really starts to take shape. Which usually means she takes a man, a doctor most times, instead of Jane: the person with whom she much prefers to attend these things. Not only is Jane Maura’s best friend - and thus makes it all genuinely more bearable - Jane has all the social skills Maura wishes she did when it came to fellow donors and hot shots. There are celebrities at this thing, for god’s sake. And that makes Maura nervous, especially since Jane so often has about five to eight games to catch up on by the time late May rolls around and refuses to come. Last time Maura had to bring a surgeon. But this year, by some miracle, the Red Sox have an off day on this Tuesday night, the same that the Gala is on. 

And Maura had known this fact for months. In fact, as soon as the regular season schedule was released. That meant that she started her get-Jane-to-the-Gala campaign while snow still raged outside and the year had barely begun. It culminates in the black, strapless gown she wears now, the one showing off her tanned shoulders and her three hundred dollar haircut complete with layers and highlights and the smell of priceless product. There are heels that highlight her calves and make her ass look fantastic; there is a pendant on her neck that draws attention to her perfectly supported breasts. There’s even a diamond ring on her right ring finger, big and belonging once to her mother, because Jane likes to look at things that remind her of tradition. 

And Maura had promised, not with words per se, but quite forcefully, quite convincingly, that Jane’s attendance would be worthwhile. The promise had consisted of some rather pointed modeling in the guest bedroom while Jane sat in a lounge chair and watched, of even more pointed half-states of undress, including dropping the garment in front of her with her heels still on so that she could bend over in the skimpiest pair of underwear appropriate for a platonic home fashion show that she owned. It also consisted of the subtle increase in hand jewelry, answers to Jane’s questions about it being, “My mother gave it to me. She couldn’t bring herself to wear it anymore; she finds such signs of commitment provincial. I vehemently disagree - especially when the signs are so exquisite. Don’t you think?”

Jane had sniffled. She’d stood, looking stiff and stupid as her mouth gaped at the ring Maura held out, before she finally said, “it’s on the wrong hand.”

Maura had chuckled warmly and replied, “for now.”

The stupidity intensified up until Jane mopped her jaw off the floor and excused herself to return upstairs. Maura then understood that she didn’t even need to invite Jane: she just needed to bring the Gala up. 

That happened about two weeks after the ring incident, which was about two weeks after the dress fitting. Maura stood in front of the vanity in her bedroom’s en suite, rubbing a European moisturizer into the skin just over her cheek bones. “You know, the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala is on the 28th this year,” she said with the most practiced nonchalance as she frowned to get more of the product into her pores. 

Jane had grunted. She leaned against the threshold to the bathroom and crossed her arms, using tox results for their current case as the excuse to be in Mauara’s inner sanctum. Maura had at least given her the courtesy of relaying those lab results before bringing the fundraiser up. “‘S an off day,” Jane said. 

Maura made a curious sound. “Hmm. Really?”

“Yeah,” Jane confirmed. “Want me to tag along?”

Maura pursed her lips so she didn’t smile. Jane isn’t hers. But she knows a secret: Jane wants to be, and so she admits she played a little dirty to have gotten Jane to accompany her.

Honestly, though, that was the nonverbal content of Maura’s promise: go, and becoming mine is a distinct, dirty possibility for you. “I’d like that,” she told Jane. “Do you need something to wear?”

She knew what Jane would say. Well, she knew the answer. Jane ended up saying, “I”ve seen what you’re wearing; I think I can cobble something together.”

Contrary to what even Jane herself might have believed, Maura hadn’t wanted to go shopping for Jane anyway - she wanted it on the table that Jane would be dressing to compliment her. Because that meant Jane in a suit. And Maura is attracted to the Jane she knows, not the Jane she can conjure by draping her in couture.

And so, Jane is here, at the Childhood Cancer Awareness Gala, in May, instead of in front of a ballgame somewhere. Jane is here in a suit, with a very expensive white silk shirt under the jacket, with a sleeker, more understated boot than the aggressive block heel she often wears to work, her hair wild and beautiful and the perfect compliment to her sharp features.

It is, by all accounts as Maura returns from the restroom, a win. A complete victory on all fronts. Except, that is, Jane stands close to Doctor Melissa Henry - world renowned OBGYN and overall knockout - listening intently enough, leaning in close enough, to hear above the sociable din. 

Jane’s long fingers hold her champagne flute by the rim, the drink Maura had procured for her long before the trip to the restroom, and Jane hasn’t touched it. Hasn’t had a sip. Which, of course not, because Doctor Henry is Puerto Rican and curvaceous and a genius. Why would Jane interrupt her spell to imbibe? 

Doctor Henry leans close and says something into Jane’s ear, Jane who turns into the gesture yet again, and suddenly, they are both chuckling. And by god, it’s Jane’s handsome chuckle - the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes and bestows upon her a crooked little grin.

Normally, Maura respects the hell out of Doctor Henry as a leader in the field of women’s medicine. She’s serious and principled and warm… and that’s the damn problem. Maura did a fucking bend and snap to get Jane here (thank Jane’s modern media bootcamp for that particularly relevant reference); she’s not letting go this easily. 

And again, she intends to fight dirty. 

She marches across the crowded ballroom to where the two women stand, where Doctor Henry places a steadying hand on Jane’s shoulder because her heels are tall and her ankles are crossed. A man bumps into a deadset Maura, by accident, but it only fuels her resolve. She continues, gaze forward, back straight, clutch in front of her hips (the ones that sway as she walks), until she approaches Jane and Doctor Henry. Then she stops.

For all her missing of social mores, Maura can synthesize the details of a situation like no other. So just as she approaches, she comes up to Jane’s left, because Jane’s right is occupied with the champagne. And also, coincidentally, Doctor Henry. All for the better, though, because this means that for her next act, the ring on her hand can do all the heavy lifting, even if it’s a mirror image of where it’s supposed to be. 

Her fingers find the ones at Jane’s side, and they slither between them. Once they’re all but entwined, she drags them up, skin brushing as they curl, just before manicured fingers scratch Jane’s palm one time. Then as she fans them back out, down and united again, she kisses Jane’s covered shoulder. Jane shivers and Maura knows it’s because of the metal rubbing on her ring finger. “My mother’s bete noir is here,” she says into the fabric of Jane’s jacket, relishing the delicate scratch against her gloss-softened lips. “The feud is as alive as ever.”

Boom.

Between the touching and the comment just for her, she’s got Jane. She knows she’s got Jane because instead of a statement about how rude it is not to greet the third party, Jane says in that gravel-rich timbre, “she still telling the story about how her daughter styled… who?”

“The Roman Prince of Cerveteri? At least once a function,” Maura replies quickly, all as she turns her gaze on Doctor Henry. “So sorry, Melissa - family issues. You know how it is.”

Family. Issues.

Jane stiffens further, grows warmer; Maura knows there’s blushing even if she can only see Melissa Henry’s straight-out-of-a-catalog face. 

“That I do,” Doctor Henry says. Gracefully she steps away from Jane. Is that a bit of fear Maura sees, too? “Do uh, do you two need a drink? I think I’m headed to the bar.”

Jane smiles with her lips closed and simply holds up her champagne flute. I’ve got plenty.

“I’ve had enough for the evening, but thank you,” Maura answers with a cordial smile.

When Doctor Henry walks away after a nod and a smirk of her own, Jane snorts. “I don’t think she’s coming back,” she says.

“God, I hope not,” says Maura. When Jane, without letting go of Maura’s hand, downs her entire drink and steps close enough for their fronts to touch, Maura honors the nonverbal request for an embrace by wrapping her free arm around Jane’s shoulders. “When you’re here, when you accompany me to these events, you’re mine,” she asserts with a growl of her own.

“I’m yours all the time,” Jane counters. She rests her head in the crook of Maura’s neck because in heels, Maura is tall enough.

Maura squeezes, and laughs lowly. “I know.”

[salemontrial]

My (probably unfinished) official list of everything I love about the trailer💫

- "How's it going :))-" SWERVED. ALEXANDER CLAREMONT-DIAZ GOT FUCKING S W E R V E D-

- Nora looks like she's going to stab Alex with her high heel. Also she's so pretty. Xjakcjd

- "you've done some pretty stupid things in your life, but this-" "Takes the cake? :DD-"

- The way Henry looks at them when they're lying on the floor covered in cake. It's like he's restraining himself from strangling Alex with his own suit jacket for the sole purpose of not worsening the scandal.

- "HENRY. SHOVED. ME.😡🥺" "An urge I currently share."

- Ellen in her pantsuit.. hey Ellen👉👈

- Alex is looking for ways to escape the room when she says the words "damage control" he fucking knows-

- THEY. GOT. LIL NAS X. ON THE FUCKING SOUND TRACK. Oh I p r a y they got the rights to Get Low I p r a y.

- ALEX'S FACE WHILE ZAHRA IS BRIEFING HIM HES SO DRAMATIC

- Im sorry guys henry is so fine alexander isnt going to be the only one thirsting over henry for the entire 2 hours/jjj

- That FUCKING handshake in the park. I can see the veins in their hands they are g r i p p i n g-

- these faces this is a point.

- "My NDA is bigger than yours, I want you to know that." "You're wearing Lifts. I know that too, sweetheart." -H e a d t u r n--- HES SO FLOORED FJSNF-

- HENRY'S LITTLE MOUTH QUIRK AFTER HE SAYS THAT

- I CAN SEE THE KEY NECKLACE. I CAN S E E IT BLESS THE COSTUME DEPARTMENT SHOVING HIM IN A LOWCUT SHIRT-

- "You better act like the sun shines out of his ass and you have a vitamin D deficiency" ZAHRA HAS THE BEST LINES AND ITS WHAT SHE DESERVES.

- Alex faffing about with his hair via his phone camera before the interview thats my b O Y-

- Henry slides over the box of cornettos so hard like thats the only hostile act hes allowed to parttake in

- To the person who theorized in the comments of one of my posts that Alex was going to do a little shoulder punch in the interview scene i am going to draw you a little firstprince fanart-/hj

- Because that was so funny and so fucking cute henrys fucking face through that whole interaction was just. He looks like he's actively trying to dissociate from the situation fjsjfj-

- The cancer ward🥺🥺

- Alex's u g l y ass suit at the new years gala... its such a gross jacket guys Im sorry this is what happens when you dont have jUNE TO MICROMANAGE HIS WARDROBE-

- Alex putting his arm around Henry and Henry smiling to himself because he's probably got the most insane case of butterflies

- I'm marrying the lighting director of this movie.

- GUYS GUYS SHUT UP ITS THE KISS.

- HENRY'S FACE BEFORE HE GIVES THE "Christ, you are as thick as it gets" LINE IS SO FUNNY. QUESTIONING WHY HE EVER WENT AND FELL IN LOVE WITH A DUMBASS

- THEY D O N T KISS LIKE THEYD RATHER GO DOWN A RAZOR WATERSLIDE🎉🎉🎉🎉💫💞💞🏳️‍🌈/GEN

- He does Henry's "Oh shit" face so w e l l-

- ALEX'S STETSON EVERYONE GET AWAY FROM ME

- KARAOKE SCENE KARAOKE SCENE I SEE HENRY AT THE MICROPHONE

- Guys hes g o i n g to do the thing he does with the bottle I just know it oh my god

- "Get O V E R yourself your majesty -p i l l o w-" "It's your royal HIGHNESS -p i l l o w-" "OHoho-"

- The polo match sjsjf. Same alwx-/J

- The little new voters goal thingy poster thats so cute actually-

- The pride flag in the back of the campaign office

- Henry texting while he's getting the royal preening sjcj

- never thought id cry just hearing henry say he misses alex out loud-

- THEYRE NOT SANITIZING IT TO MAKE IT PALATABLE/POS

- HENRY IN THE CLOSET I AM GOING TO SCREAM-

- "If anyone sees you leave this hotel I will brexit your head from your body....... Your royal highness." I LOVE HERRRRRR

- IF YOU FEEL FOREVER ABOUT HIM. AND THE AND THE PANNING TO THEM IN BED WITH THE SOFT LAMP LIGHT. AND THEYRE SO SOFT. AND AND AND AND. UEUE

- "Do you love him?" "What difference would it make if I did?"

- Bea's voice is so pretty sobs..

- It's always the blond autistic boys in the blue hoodies I swear to god/lh

- Theyre just chilling in their robes🥺🥺🥺

- DAVID!!!!!!!😭😭😭💞

- "Prince Henry belongs to Britain" and what if i sobbed.

- THEM HOLDING HANDS SOMEBODY SEDATE ME.

- NO SHUT UP NO GO AWAY HENRY CRYING... I TRUST HIM WITH HENRY'S HEAVIER SCENES NOW

- THEYRE AT THE LAKEHOUSE😭😭😭

- "It's like there's a rope attached to my chest and it keeps pulling me towards you"

- THE ASS GRAB. ALEXANDER GABRIEL CLAREMONT-DIAZ

- "The night is young, ma✨" <- said as if he isn't currently groping the prince of England's ass

- She sees right fucking through him sjcjsj

CONCLUSION: I will eat my hat. The movie looks really really really fucking good, it looks spectacular and I am so excited for it. I trust them. I'm only SLIGHTLY mad they barely had Nora in it and I'm only SLIGHTLY bitter at cutting June and Luna. But I am an optimist and I will focus on the good which is that they're doing the characters incredible justice, and if I see one person try to deny their chemistry I will A Clockwork Orange their ass to this trailer for days. Because That Is Alex and Henry. That's them in front of my eyes and I think they're in very good hands and this is the most coherent thing I can write I'm still crying-/srs

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

Ver'million "Millie" Blue (Friends at the Table: PARTIZAN):

Mech pilot with a body horror mode and a thematic dog motif. She’s trans in a culture that does gender way different than contemporary human genders, and she’s sexy about it. Escaped a military super soldier cloning program to join a revolutionary organization. Kind of a fish person (pls look up art of her, it’s all excellent). Dreams of settling down into a peaceful life and is so so so wife to me

She's a canonical goth trans woman with sick teal hair and scales and she's an alien who's vaguely fishlike and she's a sniper and an absolute shit kicker she's literally SO sexy

ok so i did just submit Pickman bc she won my tournament but i gotta say, Milli is my personal pick for sexiest f@tt character! she's goth! she could kill me! but she won't! she just wants to be away from the war! she's breaking out of the worldview she's been conditioned in to since infancy! her mech is called the stray dog! and after the campaign ends she goes around recruiting so many people that they recognizably start getting called the stray dogs! she's so excited to have literally any participation in governing! she spends a while going around the moon to install a communications system and gets to learn what its like when you approach people in a way that isn't immediately antagonistic! SHE DECLARED A GOOD HER RIVAL! she got SO close to getting out but then her sense of duty to others pulled her back in (im not actually sure if that last one is hot exactly but it SURE is compelling). AND SHE'S A FISH WHO REJECTED THE GENDER SYSTEM SHE GREW UP IN FOR ONE NOT DESIGNED TO FURTHER WARFARE!

The entire blog @fuckyeahvermillionblue.

milli cannot lose she is the second sexiest fatt character and Pickman already lost so Milli has to carry it forward come on she chose to be a woman when her culture/species literally doesn't have women, she was a prisoner doing forced labour and she still wore goth prom clothes to a state funeral and got messy drunk and she's got a big gun and a leather jacket that says "Divine Retribution" in red and she Is SO COOL AND SEXY that the revolutionary group included "Look Sick as Shit" as one of their 8 main tenets exclusively because she fucking whipped ass at the combination MET gala/Olympics by doing combined sniping/trick shots with her mech

sorry but the rest of this propaganda is too good to leave in tags

#But milli is literally a clone raised in fascist school for war and now she uses her sniping skills for revolution#She chose to be a woman when her culture/species doesn't even HAVE women. She's teal haired and trans and sexy#And she's so funny and everyone accepts that she's cool and competent and she made her mech be able to cry#She's literally goth gf. She wants to retire to a cottage. She's canonically into women. Like come on.

Millie is the best girl and you should vote for her. Her mech is a transformer that cries

VER'MILLION BLUE HOT BUFF CHICK

VOTE MILLIE

Kravitz (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Grim Reaper. So hot he managed to date Taako from TV

gotta be krav

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

angst w happy ending/fluff + fake dating + “was any of this even real” with stewy PLEASE 🙏 honestly i will take ANYTHING stewy but i feel like this fits him…

Play Pretend.

44. "Was any of this even real?" + h. Fake dating + 4. "Marry me."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. this is a part of my campaign to become your favourite stewy writer x

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing

Word Count - 810

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

You never meant for it to go this far. Neither of you did.

Stewy had cruised into your bar one night, and you'd hit it off. Several whiskeys later, he's making you an offer you can't refuse.

He proposed that you be his girlfriend for any and all events that he had to attend with a date. In return, he promised to help connect you with some important people in the art world. You'll have a gallery of your own in no time, he'd said.

That was 8 months ago.

At first, it was fun. He'd send a fancy gown to your apartment, request that you be wearing it by 8pm sharp. He'd pick you up in a shiny car, and keep you on his arm all night. It was like you were living in a whole different world. You enjoyed it.

But the more you two pretended, the realer it became. You spent hours laughing, teasing each other, talking the nights away. You got to know each other, bared pieces of your soul. Now, it's bordering on something more.

You've fallen head over heels in love with him, and he sees you as a fake date.

You're stupid, and you know it. You should have known from the moment you met him that his charm would wear you down. That beaming smile, the grey streak in his hair, the way his hands were always warm. You'd fallen hard, and there was no going back.

You're panicking. You're scrambling around, looking for the eject button. You know if you keep going, you'll reach a point of no return. So, you do the only thing you can think of. You cut it off.

Can't do tonight, you'd texted. No explanation, no apology. You felt guilty, of course you did - you know he needed someone at the gala with him. But you were trying to protect yourself.

You'd expected him to reply fuck you then! and be done with it. But when has Stewy Hosseini ever been predictable? Instead, he's banging on the door of your apartment so hard you're worried he's going to break it down.

"Sweetheart, what the fuck is going on? Open this door before I kick it down!"

"Don't kick it," you yell back. "You'll ruin those Louboutins I know you're wearing."

"Open. The. Door."

"Aren't you supposed to be at the gala by now?"

You know it isn't exactly mature to be yelling through the door at each other, but it feels easier, somehow.

"Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Just tell me what I did and I'll fix it!"

That's your breaking point. You swing open the door to be met with Stewy in a navy blue suit, dressed up to the nines.

"You can't fix it," you murmur.

"Let me try," he begs, moving closer to you.

"Look, Stewy. Thank you, for everything, really. But I'm done. I can't do it anymore."

You sound so sure of yourself. His heart shatters so hard, he wonders if you hear it break.

"Was any of this even real?" he whispers, looking at you intently.

"... What?"

"Was any of this even real? I mean, I know it wasn't at the start, but I thought... I just... Nevermind."

"What did you think?" you ask gently. He isn't making sense, and it's putting you on edge. He's usually so assured.

"I thought - I thought this was something. I know you were my fake girlfriend, but I thought you were at least my real friend."

"I am your friend," you reassure, wrapping your arms around his middle instinctively. "That's why I can't do this anymore. Because we're friends. It's not fair."

You're holding onto each other for dear life. You both think this is the last time you'll get to do this.

"I thought you loved me," he whispers into the top of your head. "How stupid was I?"

You pull away to cradle his face in your hands, looking at him carefully.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"No, Stewy. Say it again. Please."

"I said, I thought you loved me. Guess it was all just pretend," he laughs dryly, no real humour in it.

"Oh my god," you chuckle. "We're so stupid."

"Speak for yourself," he mutters.

"I do love you," you laugh. "I thought you didn't love me. I thought you were just pretending."

"I don't think I was ever pretending."

With that, you lunge at him, smashing your lips to his. He tastes like peppermint and smells like his woody cologne and it's everything you've ever dreamed. He pulls back to wrap his arms around you, spinning you around the living room.

"You know, I think we should just skip the rest. What's the logical next step? Marriage? You wanna marry me?"

"Easy there, Casanova," you tease. "Take me on a real date first."