#Eline says hi

[triski73]

Facial expressions from heaven 🤣

[slutforwings]

you know its so so over when every time i see street art i think of eyecandy coworker because he said he was really into it. im just out and about strolling through town and then suddenly hes There with me in my Head

[littlexscarletxwitch]

hello I would like to request Flo X reader fic. Where reader is touring with Harry styles. She plays guitar and Flo comes to his concert (she is friends with Harry) and meets Y/n and they hook up later that night (soft smut, maybe some praise or light choking?) . And then like a timeskip to their wedding. Harry gives a funny speech about how they met.

Sorry if it's too much. But this is one of my daydreaming scenarios. I trust you with doing it justice ❤️

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, nsfw, r is harry's friend, flo's also harry's friend, harry is like r's big bro

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit smut, wlw sex, oral sex, slight praise kink, slight choking kink, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 3.1k

note: It's been a long time coming but here I am lol. I FUCKING LOVED YOUR IDEA ANON. I just love Florence and love Harry so this was on fucking top. I hope you like it, sooo sorry it took me soo long to post it. Love you all, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

The screaming, the singing, the cheering, the whole whole scene just sent shivers up your spine. 

You knew that it wasn’t for you, not really. It was all for him and you couldn’t be prouder of all the things he had accomplished. Sure, he was kinda like your boss, or so the two of you would joke, but in reality Harry was a really good friend of yours. He was the older brother you had never had. 

A sad smile made its way over to your face as the show came to an end. It was always the worst part of the show, knowing that you would have to say goodbye to the unbelievably loud, fun, joyful atmosphere. But the thought of doing it all over again soon offered you some comfort. 

And so it came to an end, as everyone hit the last chord and note, and as Harry said goodbye to every person in the stadium. A second later, all lights went out, and everyone went offstage. 

“I could never get tired of this,” was the first thing you said as you all made their way into your dressing rooms. 

“Damn right!” Sarah agreed. You took a quick glance at her and smiled as you watched her holding Mitch’s hand. 

“They always are so incredible,” Harry said from next to you. “You guys are also incredible. I cannot thank you enough for being here.”

“Get out of here, you dork,” you playfully nudge your shoulder against him. 

“I mean it,” he said, chuckling. 

“I know you do,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Harry!” you heard someone screaming behind you, causing the aforementioned to turn around. 

“Flor?” he said as a blond woman came running closer. “Flor!” he said, this time sure, as he opened up his arms to hug the woman

She, pretty much, launched herself into his arms as he tightly hugged her. “You were amazing! she said. “You all were!” she finished as Harry let go of her. 

“Thank you, Flor. I didn’t know you were actually coming,” you noticed that Harry couldn't stop smiling. 

“I know, I didn’t either. But I just thought I couldn't miss this, you know,” she nudged Harry’s side as you had done a few seconds before. 

You cleared your throat getting Harry’s attention. “Oh, right. Everyone, this is Florence, fellow actor,” he joked. “Flor, this is everyone: Mitch and Sarah,” he gestured to the couple. “Elin, Niji, Pauli, Ny,” the four of them nodded and waved at her. “And lastly, but definitely not least, Y/n.”

“Hello,” you smiled at her. “Nice to finally put a face to your name.”

“Likewise,” she smiled back, her eyes not leaving your frame and you swore you felt your stomach flipping. ���It’s nice to meet all of you, really,” Florence gently shook her head, snapping out of her own thoughts. “I just wanted to say ‘hi’, I guess I’ll be on my way…”

“No, don’t leave,” Harry protested. “We finally get to hang out. Have dinner with me, please,” he said, grabbing her hands. “Y/n and I are going to this amazing restaurant and I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude…”

“Not at all,” you quickly cut her off. “It would be lovely to have someone helping me handle this one over here,” you motioned to Harry. 

“Rude,” he scoffed, as if he was actually hurt but there was a grin on his lips. 

She chuckled, “I’m not sure…”

“Please, I insist.”

“She insists,” Harry repeated your statement. 

“I, um…” Harry looked at her with puppy eyes. “Fine, fine,” she gave up with a smile on her face. “But dinner’s on me.”

“Not a chance,” Harry said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

[...]

“So, this Olivia girl is nuts,” you concluded. 

“Well, I wouldn’t use that word,” Harry said as he winced at your choice of word.

“Yeah, she’s mental,” Florence said otherwise, nodding at you. 

“Was the movie good at least?”

“You didn’t watch it?” Harry asked, but your whole attention was on Florence. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” she answered you. “Fans like it, critics thought it was alright. But the whole cast… there was some weird energy going on…” she shrugged it off as she took a bite of her pasta. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t watch my movie,” you heard Harry keep on complaining.

“It must have sucked. Such great actors and good people were involved, all for her to ruin the whole thing…”

“I’m your best friend, why didn’t you watch it?” he said, turning his head to you so you couldn't ignore him anymore. 

“Jesus! I’m sorry, okay,” you said defensively, making Florence chuckled. “It just slipped out of my mind,” you said as a smile creeped on your lips, mirroring Florence’s.

“You are a bad friend.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are,” he dramatically sighed. “But that’s okay, I still love you,” he said, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stood up. “I’m going to the loo, I’ll be right back.”

“He’s such an ass,” you said, once he was gone, as you took a sip of water. 

Florence giggled at your words. “He is, isn’t he?” She cleared her throat. “So, I… I have to ask… Are you and Harry… you know like…,” she said, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks. 

You quickly realised what she meant and almost choked on your water. 

“No! God, no,” you said, clearing your throat, causing Florence to both laugh and sigh in relief. “He’s like my big brother. From the moment we met I just… I knew he would be a big part of my life, and he is… as my brother,” she nodded as a smile found its way to her lips. “Plus, he’s definitely not my type. Like at all, if you know what I mean,” you said, hiding behind your glass again. 

“I think I do know what you mean,” Florence smiled at you in accompaniment. 

“So, you and him never…”

“No,” she chuckled. “I mean we did kiss but it was just acting so…” she trailed off, licking her lips which caused your eyes to quickly look at them. 

“Good to know,” you said as you gulped down the lump that had formed in your throat.

[...]

“I’m sorry I have to leave early,” Harry mumbled disappointed. 

“It’s okay. We had a lot of fun, right?” you winked at Florence to which she nodded. “Drive safe, H,” you mumbled as you hugged him goodbye. 

“Always,” he said as he let you go and went to hug Florence. “Don’t be a stranger, okay, Flor?”

“I won’t,” she hugged him tightly. “I promise.”

“You guys are sure you don’t want me to drop…”

“We’ll be fine,” you quickly cut him off. 

“M’okay, I’m leaving,” he said, making his way to his car. “Good night!”

“Night night!” you said back, watching his back as he left the two of you alone. 

“So, um…” Florence said once she was sure her friend was gone. “Would you like to get some coffee back at mine?” you smiled as her cheeks turned red once again. “Well, it’s not mine. I don’t live there, but I am staying there. So I guess it does count as mine—” she was rambling. 

“I would love to,” you cut her off. 

[...]

The moment the both of you stepped through the door, the coffee was long forgotten. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this the entire night,” she whispered on your lips.

You didn't know how it happened, but the glances on your way to Florence’s house became featherlight touches and next thing you knew she was pushing you inside her house and her lips soon found yours. You weren’t complaining though. 

“Oh, really?” you teased her as you bit her bottom lip. 

“Yes,” she said in between a soft moan, dragging you to the couch. 

“We are doing this here?” you said, as you kissed her neck. 

“The bedroom is too far away,” she said, already breathless, lying on the couch. 

“It’s literally just ten more—.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” she said cupping your cheeks, forcing her lips onto yours. 

The kiss only became rougher as your tongue made its way past her lips, fighting against her own. You could still taste the wine she had earlier along with the ice cream she had for dessert. You moved your lips down, finding once again her sensitive skin and decided to leave your mark on her. Something for her to remember you afterwards. 

“That’s gonna leave a mark.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you said as you kissed right where your teeth had been. “I don’t want you to forget me so easily,” you chuckled, before sucking another part of her skin just to leave another bruise. 

“Trust me, I’m gonna remember this night.”

As best as you could, while still being on top of her, you stripped her out of her clothes. It wasn’t that hard since she was wearing a dress, and she wasn’t wearing a bra like she always would. The only thing keeping you from admiring the entirety of her body was the thin piece of cloth covering her centre. 

“God, you are breathtaking,” you said as your lips wrapped around her nipple.

“Fuck,” Florence muttered as her head fell back, arching her back against the couch. 

Slowly, you made your way down her body, your lips ghosting over where she needed you the most. You brushed your nose against her clothed clit, your hot breath on her making her squirm under you. 

“Y/n…” she whined. 

You licked up her slit, tasting her even through the thin fabric, making you moan into her at how wet she already was. 

“Just take it off already, please.”

“So eager, so wet for me… I like that,” you chuckled, before tugging down the piece of cloth with the help of your teeth. 

As your tongue explored her sensitive centre, your right hand found its way up to her neck and slightly squeezed once you pushed your tongue inside her. You could feel her fast heartbeat under your hand, and decided to keep up with that pace as your tongue thrusted in and out of her. 

You moved your tongue up, finding her clit and sucking hard on it while you used your free hand to push two fingers in her, making her moan out loud. You squeezed her neck a bit tighter, not tight enough to stop her from breathing, just to let her know she was being taken care of. 

“Shit, I won’t be able to hold back for longer,” she cried out, brows furrowed as you keep on working on her. 

“Then don’t hold back, baby,” your voice was muffled because of her cunt. “Just come for me, Flor.”

You thrusted even faster and harder, arching the tip of your finger just to hit her sweet spot, working your tongue rougher on her clit and a second later you felt her legs wrapping around your head as her whole body started to tremble and your name fell out of your lips. You helped her ride her orgasm as you squeezed her neck getting the best out of her as you swallowed every drop of her juices. 

“You did so good for me, babygirl,” you said as you went up to kiss her lips so she could have a taste of herself.

“Bloody hell, Y/n. That was amazing…” she struggled to speak the words out, she was completely breathless. 

“We are just getting started, sweetheart.” 

[...]

After that night, Florence and you exchanged numbers and found yourself reaching out for the other constantly. She would tell you about her job, and you would tell her about the tour. Some nights, when she had a free weekend, she would fly out to where you were and stay in the hotel with you. Those were the best nights ever, just the two of you cuddling and kissing and doing more than just kissing. 

She was one of the best things that had ever happened in a long time, you wanted to let the whole world know she was now yours and you were hers. But if the whole world knew, then Harry would too. And neither of you were sure how he would take the news. You were scared to lose your best friend —your brother— even if it sounded really silly, you were fucking his best friends after all.

There were so many times when you almost told him, after all when touring with your best friend he knew there was something going on with you, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He would watch as you giggled and smiled at your phone, or he would wonder why you started to stay at the hotels instead of going out with the whole group at night. He didn’t want to intrude, so he settled for waiting for you to open up with him. But curiosity was eating him inside out, luckily for Harry, he would find some answers really soon. 

First night in London was just around the corner, and Florence came along with it, since he decided to invite her to that show as well. You weren’t aware of the arrangement until you stumbled into Harry’s dressing room and she was just sitting there. 

“Hi,” you said, with a tint of uncertainty. 

“Hi,” she just smiled at you and you felt your tummy shrinking. 

“What are you–? How? When?” you felt your anxiety creeping in. 

“I’m seeing one of my best friends performing, and my girlfriend as a plus. How? Well, I guess Harry made it possible and when? I just got here, like twenty minutes ago,” she chuckled. “Do you not want me here?” she joked. 

“No!” you shook your head. “I mean, of course I want you here,” you said, getting closer to her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your forehead on hers. “I just…,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, I just freaked out because of Harry.”

“I know, love,” she said, caressing your arms. “I think we should tell him, maybe after the show.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“It’ll go just fine, I promise,” she added, once she sensed your doubt. She cupped your cheeks searching for your eyes. “I promise, okay?” she reassured you.

“Okay,” you nodded, convincing yourself that Florence was right. 

She couldn’t help it and sealed the promise by softly kissing all your doubts and worries away. You didn’t realise how badly you needed that kiss until your breath was taken away. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a caress to your uneasy heart and you felt your entire self melting into her, completely forgetting where the two of you were standing. 

“So this was it,” you heard someone say behind you. 

A pair of stern green eyes met yours and you felt your heart drop to your stomach, but the cold green eyes quickly moved past you. 

“I cant believe you are fucking my guitarist,” Harry simply said to Florence.

You didn’t expect him to snap at Florence, but for some reason there he was doing exactly that.

“Harry!” you chimed in.

“What? It's true, isn’t it?” he shrugged it off, not moving his eyes from Florence.

“It’s complicated,” she attacked him back.

“It’s not complicated. Are you or are you two not fucking? Simple as that.”

“It’s not just fucking,” he winced at the use of the ‘f-word’ coming out of your lips. You were his best friend, almost like a sister and there he was finding out his ‘sister’ was fucking his best friend. “There’s more to it.”

“This is what you had been hiding from me, isn’t it? I knew there was something off with you. I just… I can’t believe neither of you would tell me.”

“We didn’t do it on purpose, Harry,” Flo said.

“It just happened,” his eyes softened once he found yours again. “We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did, Hazz.”

“So it’s not just, you know…” he didn’t want to say ‘fuck’ again, he had had enough with that word when it came to you. 

“No, it’s not—.”

“I love her,” Florence said. 

“What?” you asked in disbelief, that was the first time she would say that. 

“I do. I love you,” she said now to you. “You feel like home, Y/n. And I want nothing more than to come home every night to you.”

You couldn't help the smile forming on your lips. “I love you too,” you said chuckling. 

“Great! I can’t stay mad at you two if you keep on being this lovely…” Harry huffed. “You know what, I’m just gonna leave. We can talk about this later, or maybe not,” he said making his way to the door, but before he walked out he said: “Though, I want both of you to know that I’m glad you two found each other… and that it was because of me.”

[...]

Three years later. 

Harry cleared his throat before speaking. “I would like to start my best man speech by saying that these two lovebirds met because of me, so I am to thank that we are all gathered here, therefore you are all very welcome,” the room cheered for him, even though it was supposed to be yours and Florence’s night. “When I first found out about them, I just freaked out,” the whole room bursted into laughter both yours and Florence’s family and friends. “I did, I swear. I just couldn't believe it.”

“Harry!” you scolded him.

“Y/n is like my little sister, “ Harry completely ignored you. “And when I found out that my little sister was doing things… unthinkable, unspeakable, unpleasant things, with my so-called friend…”

“Harry!” this time Florence said with a warning tone, making the whole room chuckled.

“I freaked out,” he smiled to himself remembering the moment. “But now, standing here and celebrating their love on this glorious day, their wedding day, I just know it was meant to be. Y/n,” he said looking into your eyes. “You know you feel like a sister to me,” you felt tears burning your eyes. “And I couldn’t be happier knowing that you found the love of your life. And that it’s not just some random stranger you found online or something, “ the room chuckled again. “But it’s one of the best, kind, gentle souls I know,” you searched for Florence’s hand, squeezing it. “I’m glad you found her, Flor. I’m glad you found each other” his eyes were now locked on hers. “And I’m glad you love her just as much as I do, maybe even more,” he winked at her. “So,” he raised his glass of champagne, everyone following suit. “Cheers to the both of you, for your undecaying love,” he was going to take a sip from his glass but he quickly added: “And cheers to me for bringing you two together.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[grapejuicestyless]

People Pleaser

Harry Styles x fem! bandmate reader

summery: Y/n gives too much and Harry is the only one to give back.

Angst(kinda) to fluff!

If you were to ask the public, ‘Who embodies love on tour?’ The majority, if not everybody would be quick to conclude it was Harry. He was the front man, it was his tour. A man who grows flowers with his voice and encourages affection between even the most different strangers.

If you asked the people involved, they would say Y/n Y/l/n.

Y/n is a woman with so much empathy she walked in others shoes more than her own. She spends her free time devoted to helping her friends and family. Constantly doting on them despite how grave the situation seemed.

So yeah, if you were to define HSLOT, it would be Y/n, Y/l/n. The pianist who sat quietly in the back of the stage, tucked away behind Sarah and Pauli, quiet as a mouse.

——————————————————————————

The sun was high, burning into the black chevron of the HSLOT Wembley stage floor. The white and black paint radiating vastly different temperatures in the June heat. The backtracks boomed through the stadium, muffling the farther backstage you got. Humidity suffocated everything in a sticky wetness.

Harry was dancing in a black bunny shirt, sleeves rolled to his shoulders and shorts shorter than my own. Today the sun was more brutal than ever and the effects were obvious. Skin was redder than before and water bottles could be found empty and scattered beneath the instruments. The HSLOT band was huddling under the small amount of shade they could find over the small overhang mounted on the stage. Lucky for me, because of how tucked away my space was, I had full access to the cool shade and the slight breeze of the AC blasting through the backstage area. Mitch, however, due to his front and center stationing, was falling victim to the peak heat of the day.

Harry hummed into the microphone, lazily speaking numbers out of order to get a laugh out of anyone, though the heat seemed to be getting to him too as he seemed out of his usual pre-show element. The only thing there seemed to be more abundance of than Harry’s pitiful jokes, was the sweat drenching each and every one of us.

“Y/n/n?” A soft voice called from just in front of me.

Mitch stood just in front of Pauli who was stuck half in the sun and half in the shade, his body squished into the darkness. His hair was matted with wet and held up tightly in a man bun, his shirt drenched in sweat more so than the rest of us.

“Eh, Im sorry to ask but would you mind if we could just switch positions for just a bit? I’m overheating over there and need a small break.” He pleaded.

Ever the people pleaser, the urge to stay in the shade was pushed down and away as my body moved quicker than my mind. I was eager to make Mitch happy, loving the satisfaction helping a friend out gave me.

He traded me a small hand held fan for my perfect shady spot. Though the plastic wings barely moved and the air barely soothed the heat, the thought was nice enough of him to suggest.

So I stood in the sun, the rays casting down on me like a blanket that could only be described as hell on earth. Sweat collected more aggressively on my forehead but the quick look over to Mitch, who had a lazy smile on his face from the shade and the inconsistent AC gusts made it a whole lot more worth it.

By now we were on Satellite, Harry mumbling the song, waltzing over to Elin to make sure she was still feeling okay. It was moments like this that I believed we were soulmates. Bonded together by the environment that seemed to tug us together like some sort of gravity. His straightforward kindness and appreciation one of his best qualities that I loved.

I let myself marinate in my own wetness, my legs heavy from the heat and my cheeks growing sore from the sun. My eyes grew heavy and the fan grew weaker and weaker. Truthfully, I was struggling.

“Y/n..?” I heard a small yell from Sarah, who I was sure was boiling surrounded by all that plastic and metal, despite the shade. She was still blocked off from the AC air, so the heat might as well have been just as bad.

I nodded to her, making my way over cautiously, the floor slippery with the dew from the humidity and the sweat dripping off our noses.

“What’s up, babe?” I smiled, leaning against the edge of the platform her drums were set on.

“I’m struggling a bit here. I’m a little trapped.” I raised an eyebrow, ready to take a seat to listen to what she had to say. I wondered if it was about the baby or if it was a mental block. I was ready to be a good friend when she needed it.

“Do you think I could borrow that fan? Just for a second? It’s like a hotbox in here.” My eyes drifted to the soft vibrations rumbling through my palm, the soft buzzing sound from the hand held fan spinning softly in all its neon green glory.

Forming my lips into a thin line, I nodded, plastering on a smile and reaching up to hand it to Sarah.

She was thankful for my generosity, flashing me a smile and holding up a weak thumbs up. I reflected her gesture, hunching my shoulders as I spun to return back to the spot I’d taken in the sun.

Just now, I began to realize how much I took that tan for granted. Even the soft wind was able to move the still air that casted over the UK today.

My heavy feet turned into cinder blocks and my eyes became unbearably heavy. I seemed sway on my feet a little, every blink becoming stickier as my eyelashes bunched together more and more. It felt like hours going by. Realistically it had only been five minutes, but everything moved in slow motion now.

I think Harry was singing Matilda now, but it seemed to be silenced by the clogging of my ears. I felt faint suddenly, my body too heavy to hold up. I felt myself stumble. It was usually now I would focus all my attention in on his beautiful melody, but my ears seemed to reject any sound whatsoever other than shouts and belly laughter across the stage.

“Hey Y/n!” I heard loud and clear, the bubbly voice belonging to none other than my best friend. The man who I’d been stuck with since his very first show and the person in my mind that hung the stars and moon single handedly in my life. The closest thing I had to a home on tour, Harry.

I’m not sure if I was able to lift my lips into a smile or not, everything blurring together in a mushy mess. It was like I was on psychedelics while being totally sober.

Trying to remain polite, I tried to be more welcoming to him, reaching up to wave only to find myself stumbling back into the elevated stage platforms, hands slamming into the wood so hard the corners caused red lines to form, blood peaking in blots on my skin.

“Y/n!” He sounded more frantic now, not as light and airy like before. The sound of a microphone falling to the ground was ear piercing, if I could cover my ears I would. His feet sounded heavy, the sound echoing through the empty area like bricks. My elbows collapsed under the pressure of my body and my knees buckled.

I waited for the ground to come, braced for it even. Ready to bruise my face and bleed from the nose. But it never came. Instead I was wrapped in a wet body, my face smushing against a hard chest.

“Shit, can I get some medical help?” Harry. Harry had caught me. How quick he was to rush in to help.

I couldn’t quite make out his face with how jumbled up my brain was from the heatstroke I was almost sure my body was going through right now, all I saw was black dots and blurry pink lips moving quickly. I think he mumbled, “You’re okay, it’s fine.” But maybe that was an illusion I made up for some sort of comfort.

We met eyes, a worried shock painted on Harry’s face before I was met with the soothing darkness of sleep.

——————————————————————————

I woke up to a cooler climate. A buzzing sounding through the vent on the ceiling. Tassels of pink and yellow blowing in the wind. I had an ice pack taped to my forehead and one wrapped around my stomach with velcro.

My head was pounding with one of the worst headaches I’d ever dealt with in my entire life and my eyes were aggressively watering despite my excessive wiping.

I tried to sit up, but could only groan with how sore I was, my hand pressing against the ice pack quickly.

“Y/n, oh thank god.” I felt the couch dip by my head, Harry’s body kneeling on the ground in front of my face and his head hovering over mine as he hunched over me. The carpet ruffled beneath his knees as he settled into place. His breathing was slightly jagged, a little quick. Maybe in his panic it had picked up. Compared to mine, which was slow and steady. A good long sleep will do that to you.

“Did I faint?” My mouth was dry, so everything that came out of my mouth was strained and rough. Sandpaper scratching my vocal cords.

The question was obvious, I knew I had gone down before I even fell. I knew I was going down as soon as I handed away the shady spot and the fan. Maybe not directly, but that small tugging feeling that fought briefly with my body knew. I couldn’t help but let the smallest smirk grace my lips, trying to be funny and light hearted in a time of need.

“Gave everyone a proper scare, really did. Went down pretty fast.” He lifted an arm from his sides to gently move the ice pack from my forehead, sensing the slight discomfort it was giving me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. We watched each other quietly in the quiet of the communal dressing room.

His smile was infectious, always was. Harry had that kind of bunny tooth smile that made my stomach do secret summersaults and flutter occasionally. Despite the strict platonic relationship we’d established, it was hard to not fall for the other half who understood the urge to put others before myself just as well.

Lost in the dreamy thought of him, I snapped back to see the white smile slowly wipe off his face, eyebrows pulling together in worry and his gaze becoming less lighthearted and more serious.

“Was it dramatic? Could I win an Oscar for it?” I joked, lightening up the mood, or attempting to.

“Yes, and yes. Would’ve swept them, I think.” We laughed weakly, not finding the situation funny but the inability to stay so serious for so long amusing.

“We shouldn’t have had soundcheck outside. I knew it was too hot out, I’m sorry.” The warm bareness of his fingers engulfed mine gently, his thumb brushing my knuckles so light it almost barely ghosted over my skin.

“It’s not your fault, I made a couple bad choices that got me there.”

“Such a pushover.” I snorted, removing my hand from his in fake offense to his comment, though it was both true and not in any sense mean or bad intentioned.

“And to think, I had the perfect AC spot in the shade too!” We continued to joke, not finding anything about this at all serious. We probably seemed fucked in the head to the outside perspective. Who treats heat stroke like it meant nothing?

“I need to learn how to say no.” Harry silently agreed, eyes flicking up to mine slowly, almost like he was tracing my body in an outline in his head. Saving a mental photo of his best friend covered in sweat, melted ice and plastic icepacks.

“You do.” I smiled.

“I know.” He raised a brow.

“You do. Can’t have that happening. Scared me.” His sudden confession lacked any previous lightheartedness that we’d bounced off of each other just moments before.

I grabbed his hand again, now my thumb was the one to merely ghost over his skin smoothly.

“I know, I’m sorry. Don’t wanna worry you.” It was the most sincere thing I’d said all day. The only thing I’d truly meant really. All those “My pleasures” and, “Of courses” only being half hearted and made based solely on the idea that someone else could benefit from it more than I would.

“I love you.” Silence hugged the room around his confession. Not that we hadn’t exchanged the sentence consistently. Throwing it around so much it was a habit to tell each other before we left any room or made a joke so good it deserved the praise. But somehow, the words sat different than before. They held more seriousness and more honesty than the other times, and I couldn’t help the giddiness it gave me.

“I love you too.” Maybe if the situation wasn’t so dramatic and the heat wasn’t getting to both of us incredibly bad, maybe then it wouldn’t have happened. Some sort of forced confession out of the blue.

He showed no signs of having any interests in me. Other than the constant presence he seemed to enjoy having in my life and the fact that nobody knew me like him, he could have fooled me completely.

“Yeah?” He laughed through his teeth, breathy and light.

I nodded slowly, sure of myself but shy on the idea he could be playing with me. He would walk me to the door of hope and send me home crying. Maybe it was the feeling of giving so much and never getting anything back. Maybe it was the all too familiar feeling of being used because of the overflowing empathy I was dealt at birth and the nagging persistence in my mind ordering me to please the people around me that was responsible for the twinge of doubt I held to him. But his eyes held kindness and full trust, I couldn’t help but feel that fluttery feeling.

It could have been from the heat, but most likely from him rushing the blood from my heart straight to my cheeks.

“I hope you mean it in the way I think you mean it, because if this is the heat stroke playing with my feelings, I’m about to look really stupid.” My arms outstretched around his neck, pulling him to my lips. My fingers tangling between his puffy curls and damp with the sweat beaded on the back of his tanned neck.

His kiss was just as sweet as I expected it. It wasn’t an intricate make out with a long battle between our tongues. It was needy, but not in a rushed way. It was short, but did more than any sloppy kiss could possibly say.

“Is now a good time to say I only see you as a friend?” I couldn’t help but silently laugh at that. My chest moving up and down while my mouth was pulled into a large smile that broke out on my face.

Harry was still so close, yet to pull back completely as his breath fanned my nose and his forehead almost touched mine.

“Now that I’ve wooed you, does this mean you’ll let me play tonight?” His lips silenced mine, pressing hard and smooth against each other. He pulled away with a wet release.

“No.” For the millionth time, we laughed. We laughed, feeling happy. Content that I was okay, that this was okay. That we were whatever we were. Maybe we had crossed the line between strictly platonic. Maybe we were towing the line between lovers and best friends. But it didn’t matter because whatever we had was warmer than the June heat and bigger than any crowd Wembley could pull in our hearts.

It was all some sappy story of the girl who gave too much and the only man who gave back, very on brand for the HSLOT crew.

Maybe heat strokes could be good.

Read part 2 here!

[finelinevogue]

hiii! not sure if you’re open to requests, but could you do one maybe about y/n being one of the background singers for matilda and she gets really emotional during singing it! (harry wrote it about her)

just a lil blurb for you<3 thank you for the inspo xox

word count: -1k

pairing: boyfriend!harry x backupsinger!eader

“And let’s give it up for our wonderful ladies tonight!” Harry shouts into his microphone, leaving the crowd of Coventry to scream back at him.

“We have, Elin.” Harry announces and Elin waves excitedly.

“As, always and forever, we have Sarah Jones.” The crowd goes crazy for Sarah. “A name so good you have to say both first and last name.”

Harry turns to face the audience and notices a fan trying to get his attention more than the others. He pulls out his ear piece so he can hear better.

“Sorry?” He politely asks her to repeat.

He focuses his attention on the fan at the barricade.

“Oh your name is also two-name worthy. What is it? Annie? No.. Amy? Yes, Amy..? Amy Styles? Ah you’re funny, you.” He smiles as he sees what the fan is trying to do here.

“No it actually is!” The fan shouts back and holds up her driving license for Harry to see.

Harry kneels down and his jacket widens open and fans scream as they see more of his chest, whilst the fans behind get a great view if his bum.

He looks at the driving license before laughing into the microphone. The crowd cheers at the tiny noise.

“Are…” Harry stops to laugh again, “Are you part of my long lost family or summat?” He asks and the fan nods her head desperately. “Wow. Never knew there was more of us out there.”

He hands the driving license back to the fan before standing back up again. It’s clear that Harry is thinking about saying something, because he stares at you, next to him on stage, with wonder.

“She’s got my last name before you do, Y/N.” He says into his microphone and the crowd goes completely wild.

You shake your head at him for being so chaotic onstage. You and Harry like to keep your relationship as private as possible, which is difficult when he’s a global superstar and you’re one of his backup singers.

It’s little things like calling each other by your proper names in public, but behind closed doors you only call pet names to one another. Or, you won’t kiss on stage because that’s too PDA for you both, but behind closed it’s exactly the opposite. Sometimes Harry’s lips will be sore when he sings from how intensely he kisses you.

“Soon though, soon.” He says to you, not into the microphone but close enough so the crowd hears.

You hold up your pinky finger and nod your head in agreement.

“I haven’t introduced her yet, but you all love her so let’s have your cheers for Y/N!” Harry shouts into his microphone and the crowd go the craziest for you.

Harry then introduces that he’s going to sing Matilda and gives reasons why it’s so important to him, before the little guitar riff for the song starts playing from Mitch.

The crowd goes still as they anticipate one of Harry’s slower songs. When the words come in, the crowd start singing in a tone that is just so peaceful and lulling.

A few fans wave to you and you wave back, allowing them to have a little scream at the notion. You laugh and catch Harry smiling at the interaction.

You don’t start singing until the chorus, but when you do the same fans hype you up.

The love from the fans is so overwhelming that you start to form tears in your eyes.

It gets even more overwhelming when a red heart balloon is lifted into the air, from the crowd, during the bridge.

You have to take a step back to clear your throat, before continuing to sing, blinking back the tears in your eyes too.

You don’t expect it, but Harry reaches over and cups his hand with yours, giving you a tight squeeze in the process. You smile as you sing, looking over slightly to catch Harry watching you with awe.

The interaction between you two goes viral and becomes the trending topic for weeks to come.

When the song is over, you immediately pull Harry into you and he hugs you back just as tight. The crowd cheers not only for the beautiful song, but also for the interaction between you and Harry.

“I love you.” You tell Harry.

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“Impossible.”

[daisyblog]

Congratulations

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN share their news with close friends.

Niall:

YN: PHOTO Hello Uncle Niall🤍

YN sent Niall the text and waited because she knew once he had read it, she was going to receive a call. 

And within a few minutes, YN’s phone began to ring with Niall’s name displayed. YN was quick to answer the FaceTime, eager to see his reaction.

“Hi Niall!”. YN and Harry answered together, a big grin on their face. 

“Are you two having me on?” Niall got straight to the point. 

“No…we’re having a baby!” YN explained.

“I can’t believe this…I think I’m gonna cry!” Niall had been there from the beginning of their relationship, so to see his two best friends happy and expecting a little one was emotional. “Congratulations guys…I’m so happy for you.”.

“Thanks Ni…well get ready for Uncle duties!”.

“I can’t wait!”. Niall couldn’t hide his excitement. “I’m gonna be their favourite uncle”.

“I think you’re going to have to fight for that spot with Louis!” Harry joked. 

“Tell him to give up now!” Niall teased. 

---

Mitch and Sarah: 

Harry: PHOTO Hi Uncle Mitch and Auntie Sarah❤️

Harry could see that Mitch was typing a reply, so he and YN waited for the response.

Mitch:  Little one is having a nap or I would be shouting down the phone right now!! CONGRATULATIONS GUYS!! Welcome to parenthood, we can’t wait for you to join us!! 

---

Jeff: 

Harry: PHOTO

Harry had sent his manager and friend a photo of the scan and purposely not saying anything more. So when Harry’s phone rang, he wasn’t shocked. 

“Harry!” Jeff didn’t allow Harry to answer. “What’s going on?”.

“I don’t know what you mean Jeffery.” Harry played dumb, a smirk covering his face. 

“You can’t just send me a baby scan and say nothing else.” 

Harry laughed but decided to put Jeff to ease. “YN’s pregnant!”.

“Fuck off!”. 

“I’m serious…she’s like fifteen weeks now.” Harry explained. 

“FIFTEEN WEEKS!” Jeff had a similar reaction to others when the couple announced how far along YN was. 

“We only found out this week.” Harry defended himself.

“Well all I can say is…Congratulations H, you really deserve this and I’m behind you and YN every step of the way!”. 

“Thanks Uncle Jeff.” Harry teased. 

---

The Love Family:

Harry: PHOTO Our new addition to the love family🫶🏼❤️

Elin: Aww you guys🥹Congratulations Harry and YN🤍

Ariza: Congratulations to you both! So happy for you, amazing news!

Niji: Congratulations! You both deserve so much happiness❤️

Pauli: YESSS!! Saucy saucy😂A big congrats my man!

Yaffra: Wow! Congratulations!! 

Lloyd: 👀…THIS IS THE BEST NEWS! Congratulations Boss x 

Brad: WOOOOO! I KNEW IT! Congratulations H and YN x

---

Zayn: 

Despite some distance being created when Zayn left the band, YN had always tried to stay in contact with him. They didn’t talk all the time but they would occasionally catch up over a few messages or now and again a FaceTime call, especially when Zayn had Khai.

YN: PHOTO Hello Uncle Zayn 👋🏼

Zayn: What a message to wake up to. I wasn’t expecting this news. A massive congratulations to you and H, you’re going to be amazing parents❤️

---

Liam: 

YN: PHOTO Hello Uncle Liam 👋🏼

Liam: 😱😱😱

Liam: OH MY

Liam: I’m speechless 

Liam: A huge congratulations to you guys! You deserve so much happiness and I wish you all the love x 

---

James Cordon:

Harry: PHOTO Hello Uncle James!!

James: Thank you very much for making me cry on a Monday morning!! WAW!! A big congratulations to you both!! H…welcome to fatherhood, it’s incredible. Big love x

---

Lou Teasdale: 

YN: PHOTO Hi Auntie Lou👋🏼🩷

Lou T: OMFG!! You kept this quiet! Congrats my darlings🩷Love ya both xx

---

Nick Grimshaw:

Harry: PHOTO Hi Grimmy x

Grimmy: This better not be a joke! Congrats both! Catch up soon? Orange juice for you YN x 

Tag List: @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream @treehouse-mouse

[winterf4iryy]

SAY THEIR NAMES 🇵🇸❤️

Rest in peace to Omar and 12 members of his family, to Mayar and Ali and their dad, to Basan and her family and her cat, to Eline and her sister Celine and their dad, mom, two brothers, grandmother, grandfather, uncle, aunt, and five of their cousins, to four beautiful brothers, to Dr Omar Firwana and his family and grandchildren. Their lives will not be forgotten.

[magicandpizza]

Hi, love your work💕

Could I request 9. for the wesper weather prompt game?

Ah thank you so much, it means a lot to me!

9. A blizzard so intense there's no choice but to stay inside

“I wan’ play outside!” cries the little girl, stretching her chubby arms up toward Wylan, blue eyes wide and pleading, the perfect mix of both her parents. 

“I’m afraid you can’t, my love,” Wylan says as he carefully picks the little girl up and rests her in the cradle of his hip. “There’s a big snowstorm outside and you’re so little you’ll get blown right away!” At Elin’s adorable little pout, he says, “Let’s see where your mama and papa and our friends are, hm? I think uncle Jesper has some hot cocoa ready for you.” 

He carries Elin through to the living room and places her back on the ground, whereupon she immediately toddles off towards the coffee table, eyes fixed on the steaming mugs of cocoa. 

As Wylan joins his husband on the sofa, he takes a moment to drink in the sight of his four closest friends, huddled around the roaring fire in Nina and Matthias’ small but cosy living room. Kaz has dragged an armchair closer to the fireplace, his bad leg stretched out in front of him and cane propped to one side. Inej is cross-legged on the floor by his feet, both hands curled around her mug. Matthias and Nina sit side by side on the floor, Nina resting against the arm of the sofa, one arm gently resting on her ever-growing bump. 

“Say thank you to uncle Jesper for making the cocoa,” Matthias says softly, helping Elin to take a sip. 

“Thank you,” Elin repeats stoically. There’s already chocolate all over her face.  “You’re welcome, little love,” says Jesper with a grin and a wink, but Wylan catches the longing look in his eye. He squeezes Jesper’s hand gently and gives him a smile that says soon.

[lendeah]

After the Weave 4.

series masterlist

Summary: Following the Duke's murder, Elara and Astarion find themselves detained by the Flaming Fists and interrogated by detective Valeria. Somehow, they are forced to spend a pleasant evening in the barracks' basement, and the outcome is far from what they anticipated.

Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav, past Gale x OFC!Tav

Tags: Angst, Drinking to Cope, References to Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Emotional Baggage, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Post-Break Up, Tav finds herself again with Astarion, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD.

Word count: 5.2k

"How come every time there is a series of murders, it's always you guys around?" Valeria asks, their pipe perched as always.

The Basilisk Gate Barracks are filled to the brim, with every fist trying to talk down the nobles assembled there. Most of them are still in formal attire, adding to the chaos of the situation. Meanwhile, Blaze Elin, a gruff woman with a thick scar running down her cheek, stands at the front of the room, trying to maintain some semblance of order. She had called all of the Flaming Fists in for an emergency meeting, and now they stand tensely, waiting for her orders.

"We have no idea who is behind these murders," she barks, voice booming through the barracks. "But I can assure you, we are working tirelessly to solve this case. I urge you all to share any information you may have so that we can bring justice to the Duke's murder. And then you can go home and rest easy knowing we are doing everything in our power to protect Baldur's Gate." Her eyes scan the room, daring anyone to go against her judgment.

Valeria flies around the room, their eyes narrowed skeptically. "That's what they always say," they spat lowly, their words like venom.

Astarion is slumped in his chair, his white hair falling across his face as he rolls his eyes dramatically. "Must we linger in this dull abode any longer? We have divulged everything we know," he complains, casting a side glance at the detective.

We both knew that was a lie, of course. We hadn't told Valeria about the spawn under the city. Or the ones in the Underdark, for that matter. It was too risky to spread the word about their existence.

But Valeria wasn't easily fooled. They perch on top of a bookshelf, piercing gaze fixed on us. "I know you're hiding something," they state matter-of-factly.

Astarion scoffs. "And what makes you think that?"

Valeria tilts their head to the side, their pipe still clenched between their teeth. "How about your sudden return to Baldur's Gate socialite? Your involvement in an apparent "charity hospital for children"? And let's not forget your companion here, which you have suddenly reunited with after months." They gestured towards me with a wingtip.

I can feel my stomach knotting with anxiety, but Astarion just laughs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh please, detective, I'm flattered that you find my life so interesting. But I assure you, the only thing I am involved in is solving this terrible murder case."

Valeria raised an eyebrow skeptically, as they calmly blew a puff of smoke.

"Is that so? Then tell me, why does every corpse we are finding present bite marks? Vampire bite marks?"

My heart skips a beat at Valeria's accusation. I know they are onto us. Astarion, however, remains once again unfazed. He leans forward in his chair, his lips curling into a sly smile. "My dear detective, are you implying I am the culprit just because I'm a vampire?"

Valeria's expression remained unreadable, their pipe still clenched between their teeth. "I'm not ruling out any possibilities," they replied evenly.

Astarion chuckles, leaning back in his chair with a casual shrug. "Well then, I suppose anyone could be the culprit."

Valeria's eyes narrow at his nonchalant attitude. "You seem awfully calm for someone who is being accused of killing multiple people," they state, their tone laced with suspicion.

Astarion's smile falters for a moment before he regains his composure. "My dear detective, I assure you, I am not responsible for these murders. Do you have any evidence to suggest otherwise?" He crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. "And in this case, the simplest explanation is that there is a vampire on the loose, preying on unsuspecting victims. Just because I am a civilized vampire, doesn't mean every of my kind is." he ends with another casual shrug. Gods, he is good.

I take a sharp breath and blurt out. "You know, this could be considered vampire discrimination!"

Valeria raises a skeptical eyebrow at my outburst. "Vampire discrimination? I highly doubt that, Miss. Not when we have solid evidence pointing towards a vampire as the suspect."

I clamp my mouth shut, realizing that I may have just made things worse. Astarion gives me a warning look before turning his attention back to Valeria.

"Forgive her, detective. As you know, she tends to let her emotions get the best of her," he says with false charm.

Valeria seems to consider this for a moment before speaking again. "Then why would this vampire target specific people? The past victims were normally lower class, but the Duke and his family were well-protected and respected individuals."

Astarion shrugs again. "Perhaps it was just a simple case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Just like we were."

I can see Valeria nod reluctantly at Astarion's words, but their eyes continued to bore into us with suspicion.

"Well then, if you come across any information or leads from your kind, be sure to inform me," they say sternly before standing up from their perch on the bookshelf. "I trust you, but I will be keeping a close eye on the both of you."

We both nod solemnly and finally get up to head out. At this point, only a handful of nobles are left to be interviewed. Among them is Lady Saphira, her elegant dress sparkling in the dim light. When she catches sight of us, her painted lips curl into a warm smile and she waves us over eagerly.

Regrettably, just as we are about to exit the building, I catch a glimpse of the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon. The soft orange and pink hues cast a warm glow over the city, signaling the start of a new day. I look at Astarion with a grimace, knowing this means we are unable to walk outside. The elf lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of cover.

"Well, well, it appears we'll have to find some shelter until nightfall," he mutters.

I nod in agreement, my mind already racing with thoughts on where we could go. And then I realize: we are in the Barracks. I look to the corner of the room, where the door to a small staircase lies hidden out of sight.

"Maybe we could rest in my old basement until then?" I ask.

Astarion turns to me with a raised eyebrow. "Your basement? Well, I suppose it's better than wandering out in the open..." he says with a hint of skepticism.

However, as I lead him to the door, I notice a guard is currently standing in front of it, and he would surely notice if we were to go down. During my time here, the Barracks were often pretty empty, so I didn't worry about the Fists finding out I was using their basement as my home.

I try to call the magic to my hands to cast an invisibility enchantment, but it is so rusty from months of no use that barely a few sparks appear.

Astarion, noticing my thoughts, places a hand on my arm and smiles. "Darling, you can just ask me to cause a distraction."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the mischievous glint in his eyes. "And just what kind of distraction are we talking about?" I ask.

Astarion smirks, his charming smile reaching his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, Astarion reaches into his cloak and retrieves a small vial filled with a shimmering liquid. He holds it up to the light, the liquid sparkling like stardust. "This," he says, waving the vial playfully, "is a little something I acquired during our time apart. It's an enchantment potion that can cause illusions. But not just normal illusions, big illusions. Trust me, it'll be quite the spectacle."

I nod, dubious of the effectiveness of said potion. "Alright then, show me what you've got."

He smirks, and gets closer to my ear to whisper, "¿Ready to run?"

Without another word, Astarion forcefully throws the vial to the other side of the room where it explodes in a thousand shards. I watch in amazement as an image of a huge ogre appears in the corner of the room, letting out a deafening roar.

Panic erupts among both the soldiers and nobles as they scramble to either arm themselves and prepare for battle or run away. The Fist in front of the door immediately runs to help in the chaos, leaving the door unguarded. The image of the ogre is so realistic that even I start to panic for a moment, but then Astarion's hand grabs mine and pulls me towards the stairs. As we run, my ball gown gets caught on one of the tables, causing me to stumble and almost fall. But Astarion quickly catches me and effortlessly detaches my dress from the table.

"Come on, we need to move fast," he urges, his grip tightening on my hand.

I nod and we continue our escape. Soon, we reach the small door, and it takes all my strength to open it since I haven't used it in so long. Finally, with a loud creak, it swings open revealing a dimly lit staircase that goes down into the basement. I quickly urge him forward and close the door behind us, making sure to lock it. The sound of chaos from above fades as we hurry down the stairs into the darkness. I can feel Astarion's hand gripping mine tightly, guiding me through the narrow staircase.

As we reach the end, I see another door, this one larger and made of metal. It has a large lock on it, but before I even remember where I left the key, Astarion quickly takes out a set of lockpicks and skillfully picks the lock. The door opens with a soft creak, revealing a small underground room, barely lit from a small window to the street. Astarion collapses onto a nearby chair with a grin on his face.

"Well, that was exhilarating," he says with a laugh, catching his breath.

I take a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief as I sink down onto another chair beside Astarion. My hands shake as I begin to remove the layers of my ball gown, leaving only the outer scarlet texture that falls freely over my feet. Astarion watches me with amusement in his eyes as I struggle with the intricately designed dress. Finally, I manage to pull it off and throw it onto the floor, feeling suddenly free from its suffocating hold.

"I can't believe you had an enchantment potion on you," I say.

Astarion shrugs nonchalantly. "What can I say? I like to be prepared for any situation."

I chuckle and then take a look at my surroundings.

As I take in the room, my chest constricts. Despite it only being two weeks since I last stood here, it feels like a lifetime has passed. The room is dirtier and more somber than I remembered. A small bed sits in one corner, with a tiny window near the roof as its sole source of light. Two old chairs and a table, coupled with an old sofa, make up the rest of the barren furnishings. Empty bottles of alcohol litter the floor, along with many plates of half-eaten food. Oh, and it absolutely stinks.

I can't help but feel ashamed of Astarion's presence; I don't want him to see this place. Don't want him to realize how low I fell before he took me in.

Astarion takes note of my discomfort and raises an eyebrow. "Is everything alright, love?" he asks, concern coloring his voice.

I force a smile and shrug it off. "It's just...I didn't think it had gotten this bad," I say, trying to brush it off casually.

Astarion's eyebrows furrow in concern as he takes in the state of my basement. "What do you mean?" he asks softly.

I sigh and avoid his gaze. "I hadn't been taking care of myself properly since... since Gale left," I admit with a hint of sorrow in my voice.

Astarion's expression softens and with a tenderness that surprises me, he takes my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry, Elara," he says, sincerity lacing his words. "I didn't mean to leave you alone for so long."

I shake my head, feeling a touch of guilt for bringing up the subject. "It's not your fault, Astarion. I'm sure you had your own reasons for leaving," I say, trying to reassure him.

Astarion nods, but I can see the guilt still lingering in his eyes. He stands up and starts looking around the room, "Let's clean this place up a bit, shall we?" he says with a grin, picking up empty bottles and plates.

I can't help but laugh at his sudden enthusiasm for cleaning.

"Oh, you? Engaged in the noble art of cleaning? I am astonished."

Astarion gives me a mock offended look. "Why yes, my dear, I am capable of more than just thievery and seduction," he retorts with a smirk.

I laugh again and join him in cleaning up the mess. Together, we spend the next hour tidying up the basement. It's a surprisingly cathartic experience, feels as if we are washing away the memories of my past struggles together.

When we finish cleaning, Astarion looks around with satisfaction. "Much better," he says with a smile.

I look around as well and feel a weight lift off my shoulders. The room is no longer dark and depressing; although still austere, it feels a bit more cozy and welcoming now.

"Thank you," I say sincerely to Astarion.

Just when I am prepared to sit on the makeshift sofa, I notice a stray bottle hiding between the wall and the bed. Curiosity getting the best of me, I reach for it and realize it's still full.

"I really spent five months drowning my sorrows in ale. What a brilliant strategy, right?" I say, reaching it with a heavy sigh.

I sit defeatedly back on the sofa. Astarion looks at the bottle in my hand, deep in thought. After a moment, he turns to me with a determined expression.

"Why don't we make a different kind of toast?" he suggests, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean?" I ask.

Astarion settles beside me on the plush sofa, grabbing the last bottle of ale. "Let's share this final bottle, closing the chapter as it began," he suggests with a wistful smile. "And then let us make a promise to each other – to move forward as one."

I look at Astarion in surprise, not sure what to make of his sudden declaration. But something in his eyes tells me that he is being genuine, and I can't help but feel touched by his words.

I nod slowly, and Astarion opens the bottle with ease "To new beginnings," Astarion says, raising the bottle in a toast, and gulps with a grimace. "Gods, this ale is awful."

I chuckle and take a sip myself. The drink is strong and bitter, but I find myself enjoying it more than I thought I would. We sit in comfortable quietness for a few moments, passing the bottle back and forth.

"I can't believe the Duke is dead..." I say, breaking the silence. "Wyll..."

Astarion nods, his expression grim. "Yes, and he won't have a clue unless he graces us with his presence again."

I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "I wish there was a way to contact them."

Astarion leans back against the sofa, taking another swig from the bottle of ale. "It seems we are also very screwed," he says bluntly."No noble will want to help a vampire now, even with a charming hero by my side."

I roll my eyes at his choice of words, but can't deny the truth in them. I bite my lip. "And now everyone will hate you even more," I murmur.

"I'm used to it by now, that is the least of my worries," Astarion shrugs nonchalantly."The problem is the Underdark spawn. We can't keep covering to sustain them if the nobles don't pay us."

Astarion takes another swig of the ale, his expression troubled despite trying to conceal it. I can't help but admire his genuine dedication to the well-being of the spawn.

"You're right, but we can't just let them starve," I say, thinking of the innocent children that were turned into spawns by Cazador.

Astarion nods in agreement. "We'll have to come up with a solution soon or else things will only get worse."

I take a deep breath and try to think of a plan. "Perhaps we could find the culprit spawn? That way, instead of being labeled as monsters, the nobles might see us as saviors in the end. Plus, you know, prevent further harm to innocent lives."

Astarion looks at me with a smirk. "Ah, always the hero. But finding the spawn? That's a risky move, my dear. They're not exactly known for their civility or cooperation. Much less yours or mine."

I raise an eyebrow at Astarion's comment. "I never said it would be easy, but it could be worth a try. We can't just sit here and do nothing while they go around killing more innocents."

Astarion nods slowly and then gives me a sly smile. "Well, looks like we'll have to go on a little hunt. We'll most certainly find them, but we must tread lightly and play our cards just right."

"I agree," I say with determination. "We can start tomorrow and see what we can find out."

A heavy silence settles between us, the warmth of the ale slowly creeping into my mind. Suddenly, I feel emboldened by the alcohol and ask the question that has been nagging at me for months: "What did you do during all that time we were apart?"

Astarion looks at me with surprise before a small smirk forms on his face. "Oh, just the usual. Drinking, gambling, and charming my way into the beds of highborn virgins."

I raise an eyebrow at him and he chuckles. "Just kidding, of course. Well, mostly kidding."

I roll my eyes at Astarion's flippant response. After what I saw at the party, I am more than sure that he has indeed been visiting a lot of bedchambers. The thought, for some reason, doesn't sit well with me.

"Seriously though, what did you do?" I press on, trying to distract my thoughts. We are so close our arms are touching, sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

"As much as I wish to boast about how I was far off better than you... I cannot" He sighs. "Hiding in the shadows once again took a toll on me, and I fear it may have shattered me completely. I never thought I would have to resort to such methods again. It was like reliving a nightmare."

Astarion takes another swig of ale before continuing. "I spent most of my time huddled in my bedchambers. My appetite disappeared, along with any sense of purpose or thought. All I could do was lay there, consumed by my own despair."

His raw confession tugs at my heart, causing it to clench painfully. My mind struggles to process this new side of Astarion - so unlike the guarded and closed-off man I thought I knew. It's almost as if he's a completely different person now, changed by the events of these past few months. Or perhaps, his sudden honesty is simply a result of the alcohol loosening his inhibitions.

I find myself reaching out to gently place my hand over his in comfort. He just looks to the wall, as if his mind is elsewhere, and keeps talking. "I was utterly alone. Everyone else had found their own happily ever after - Lae'zel fulfilling her duties to her people, Shadowheart finding her true calling, Wyll and Karlach, you know, at least they were together. And then there was you and Gale..." He looks over at me with an unreadable expression before turning his gaze back to the wall. "I couldn't help but feel envious of all of you. It seemed like everyone had moved on except for me."

I take a deep breath, his thoughts resonating so deep within me, reminding me of my own struggles back when I was alone and trying to help everyone. "I understand what you mean," I say softly, squeezing his hand lightly. "I've been there too, feeling like everyone has moved on and left me behind."

Astarion shrugs, a bitter smile on his face. "It's not their fault. It's just... hard being alone after so long. It reminded me too much of my old life."

I nod, "I can imagine how hard it must have been for you," I reply sincerely.

"Surviving wasn't easy, but I managed." He says with a hint of amusement, "Dalyria found me cowering in the bedroom after a month and gave me quite the scolding. But then she helped me dust off my pride and put me back on my feet. She knew we needed all hands on deck to deal with the spawn, and apparently, I was deemed the most capable." With a shrug, he sums it up, "And that's how it went."

His final words are a bit slurred as if the alcohol is getting to him too. I grasp his hand tightly, not wanting to let go even as the world around us spins. His skin is cold against mine and I can feel the tremble in his fingers.

"Well, we're not alone anymore. We're together." I whisper, my words also a bit slurred.

Astarion looks at me with surprise before a small smile forms on his face. "Together," he repeats, his voice muddled, before pulling back and taking another swig of the bottle. My gaze follows the movement as his strong hand grips the bottle, his soft lips enveloping the tip, his translucent eyelashes fluttering shut in pleasure. My mind reels as I watch his throat move while he gulps, and for some reason, my drunken haze makes me ache with desire for him.

His red eyes connect with mine, and I can feel myself getting flustered under his intense gaze, caught in the act.

A faint smirk appears on his lips as he takes another swig of ale. "Do you like what you see?" he teases, and his voice is now low and husky.

I have the urge to look away, a blush creeping onto my cheeks. But instead, I reply emboldened by the alcohol, "Maybe."

Astarion's eyes widen in surprise, and a mischievous grin spreads across his face. He leans closer, his breath fanning against my ear. "Well, isn't that interesting," he whispers, his voice dripping with playful suggestion. "Perhaps we should explore this newfound curiosity of yours."

My heart skips a beat as his words hang in the air, my mind buzzing with a mixture of desire and confusion. A part of me wants to push him away, to remind myself that this is just the alcohol talking, but another part of me yearns to indulge in this intoxicating connection we share. It's been so long since I've felt this desire, this need. So long since I've been touched.

Summoning up the courage, I lean in closer to his ear, our knees now touching.

"Do you like what you see?" I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. From this close, I can admire the small moles dotting his cheek, and fight the urge to trace them with my fingertip.

Astarion chuckles softly and pulls back slightly, his red eyes locking onto mine. His lips curl into a mischievous smile as he places his free hand on my thigh. His touch sends an electric jolt through my body, igniting a fire within me. "Who are you and what have you done to my dear Elara?" he asks teasingly.

Our faces are now mere inches apart, our bodies pressed against each other.

"Do you like what you see?" I repeat, surprised at how low and sultry my voice comes out.

Astarion leans in closer, his nose barely brushing mine. "I do," he replies, his voice filled with desire. "Who could resist such a stunning creature?"

The tension between us is palpable as Astarion's hand continues to trail up my thigh, his touch igniting a burning desire within me even through the thick fabric of my dress. I don't know if he is pretending anymore, my head is swimming, my thoughts clouded by the alcohol and his touch. I know he can hear my heartbeat, his pupils expanded to the point where there is no crimson in them. He licks his lips, briefly showing his fangs, and I can't help but shiver, my body remembering the way they felt on my neck.

Without fully realizing what I'm doing, I take my trembling hand to his neck, touching the bite mark there softly, and caress my way to the base of his throat. My fingers tremble as I tug on the strings of Astarion's black shirt, feeling the smooth fabric open to reveal his sculpted chest. The dim sunset light from the basement window casts a golden glow over him, accentuating his every muscle and curve. He looks like a creature carved out of marble, perfect in every way.

Astarion watches me with intense eyes as I trace my fingers down his chest, feeling the softness of his skin under my touch. His breath hitches slightly and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I can feel his hunger for me radiating off of him, and it only fuels my desire.

"How long has it been?" Astarion's hand goes up and cups my cheek gently, his thumb stroking my skin softly "How long has it been since someone touched you?"

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within me. "It's been a while," I admit, feeling vulnerable and exposed under his intense stare.

A small smile tugs at the corners of Astarion's lips as he leans in closer once more. Our lips brush lightly again, sending all kinds of electric feelings along my skin. "You are drunk," he whispers.

And then, he pulls back completely, retrieving his hand. A wave of disappointment washes over me and I can't help but whine at the lack of contact.

"B-but I want to," I say, my words almost gibberish.

He just shakes his head and gets up to get even further away, allowing me to see I wasn't the only one affected by our exchange.

"You will regret it tomorrow." He adds, "If you still want to when you sober up, I will more than oblige."

The room suddenly feels cold and empty with Astarion away from me. I can't help but feel disappointed, my desire still burning strong within my veins.

"I won't regret it," I say with determination, but my words are slightly slurred from the alcohol. "I want you."

Astarion's eyes darken with desire as he looks at me, but he shakes his head again. "Oh darling, you are clearly drunk," he repeats, "And a whiny, obnoxious one at that."

I pout, feeling rejected and frustrated. Why won't he just give in to our mutual desire? Is it really because I'm drunk? Or maybe because he thinks I'm not good enough for him? Is this even his true self, or is he simply pretending to be flirty as usual?

"Can we please go home now, precious little crybaby?" he drawled with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

My pout deepens as I watch Astarion head towards the door. "Fine," I mutter, standing up and swaying slightly as the alcohol starts to hit me harder.

Astarion's teasing grin transforms into a devilish chuckle as he observes my unsteady steps. "Oh, darling, is this your attempt at seduction?" he quips with a wink. "I won't fall for it, but I'll gladly watch you stumble."

But then he comes to stand beside me and with his firm grip, he assists me in walking up the stairs once more. The barracks lay eerily quiet and devoid of life in the cover of night, the moon casting an eerie shadow over our movements. As we walk through the empty hall, Astarion's arm finds its way around my waist for support, and my mind is still consumed by thoughts of our previous interaction. The alcohol in my system makes me more aware of his touch and the way his body presses against mine.

Before leaving the place, Astarion turns to face me with a mischievous grin on his face. "Now, shall we finish our little promise?" he asks in a low voice.

I can feel my cheeks heating up at his words and I nod eagerly. I hold out my hand "I promise to move forward from this place. And from Gale. And from the ale."

Astarion raises an eyebrow at my wobbly words, but he takes my hand in his and gives it a firm shake. "Together," he says with a smirk, his grip surprisingly steady despite the amount of alcohol we've consumed. How is he not drunk? He drank more than me!

As we make our way back to the Palace, Astarion keeps his arm around me, guiding me through the now-dark streets of Baldur's Gate. Despite the alcohol clouding my senses, I can't help but feel safe and protected by his presence, and I unconsciously lean into his touch. As we reach the metal gates of the Palace, I am starting to sober up, and he finally releases his grip on me and opens the door.

"Well," Astarion says, leaning against the door frame with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That was certainly an interesting day."

I roll my eyes at his comment, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. It's bad enough that I made a fool of myself in front of Astarion, but now he's going to tease me about it too?

"Can we just forget about it?" I mumble, trying to brush off the embarrassing events of the evening.

A cunning smirk spreads across Astarion's face as he gazes at me. "Oh, don't worry darling," he drawls. "I will most definitely forget." but his words drip with sarcasm.

I roll my eyes at Astarion's teasing comment, but I can't deny the small flicker of disappointment at the thought of him forgetting about our drunken encounter. Despite trying to push those memories away, they keep resurfacing in my mind. The way Astarion's fingers had felt against my skin, the desire burning between us... I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

Astarion leads me inside and we have barely taken two steps when two figures appear in front of us.

"Are you two drunk?"

Astarion and I freeze in our tracks as Shadowheart and Lae'zel stand before us, their arms crossed and disapproval etched on their faces. My heart stops at the sight of the two women.

I straighten myself, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. I can feel my face flushing with embarrassment, desperately wishing for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Astarion, ever the smooth-talker, steps forward with a sly grin.

"My two favorite companions!" he replies, feigning innocence. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my modest property?"

Shadowheart and Lae'zel exchange a doubtful glance before turning their attention back to Astarion.

"We've been waiting here the entire day for the both of you," Shadowheart says, her tone serious. "We heard the Duke died, and it's clear you two were entangled in the mess somehow."

Lae'zel finally speaks up, her voice cold and commanding. "We are here to deal with the wreckage you left behind."

Tag List - @astarioffsimpmain, @amazingnerd, @ayselluna

[cee-grice]

WIP INTRO - NOTE TO SELF: MURDER COMPLICATES THINGS

(working title lol)

GENRE - romcom x murder mystery

STATUS - first draft

PITCH -

If you'd told Adrian joining a chess club in his freshman year of university would lead to him getting roped into solving the murder of his crush's ex, he probably would have believed you, because nothing would delight the gods more than making his life into a proper joke. He didn't even like chess.

THEMES/FEATURING - lgbtq+, autism rep, best friends to ???, humorous narration, dealing with grief, unrequited (?) love, complicated family dynamics, self-discovery (and self-denial), love expressed through domesticity

SYNOPSIS -

When Adrian first enrolled in university, he had a plan to drop out three months in. Enter Cillian, and there went the plan. Was it a little pathetic all it took was a single charming boy to smile his way for him to fold? No. It was a lot pathetic. Cillian was everything Adrian was not - smart, most obviously. Terribly unfunny (which almost circled back to being funny). Reserved, but weirdly unrestrained. And so completely unaware of his effect on people (Adrian) that it was genuinely painful at times. Ah, and of course - extraordinarily private. Now, Adrian had no problem with that. Or, he hadn't, until Cecile, Cillian's girlfriend, showed up on their apartment's doorstep. Well, that's one way to get fucking friend-zoned. Life went on, Adrian convinced himself he was completely and entirely fine with being just friends, and all was well until-- Until Cillian and Cecile broke up. Until, days later, she went hiking and fell. Death always seems so far away until it's not, and although Adrian is as unprepared to be the emotional support as a door might be, he's nothing if not determined to give it his best shot. Only, he quickly finds out Cillian needs a whole different kind of support. He's convinced Cecile's death wasn't an accident and is set on finding the (potentially non-existent) culprit. And although Adrian is less prepared to be a detective than a fucking door, he's nothing if not absurdly devoted to his completely casual best friend and all his needs.

EXCERPT -

“Vera she first met online,” Cillian said, tapping on the first girl’s, a pretty blonde's, picture. “And Eline is her podcast’s co-host, and she… uh… I don’t remember,” he murmured, and his face twisted with a sudden dismay. “How can I not remember that?” “I barely remember where I met my own friends,” Adrian rushed to say. He opted to not comment on Cillian’s use of the present tense there. “It definitely doesn’t matter here, anyway. She had a podcast, you said?” “Yes,” Cillian said slowly, as if his voice struggled against him. He swallowed. “About true crime. She was… quite passionate about it.” “Oh, huh. She probably would’ve loved all this, then,” Adrian said with a vague gesture at the wall, and, as it’d become too common lately, immediately regretted speaking. Instead of snapping at him, however, Cillian let out a choked sort of laugh. “Oh, yes.” He rested his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes. He breathed, once, twice, until it caught in his throat. “She would never forgive me if I didn’t solve her own case.” When he looked at Adrian, such rawness and desperation swam in his eyes it momentarily paralyzed Adrian. “Do you understand?” Yeah. He thought he did. And the realization only invited forth a whole new wave of dread. Cillian wouldn’t just give up. He wouldn’t just grieve through it, until the ache receded enough for him to think clearly again. To be himself again. He wouldn’t let go until he figured this puzzle out. But if the puzzle didn’t have an answer…

Notes: this is so entirely different from the rest of my works lol. I'm a fantasy girlie, that's what I'm most comfortable with, and yet, this idea has rotted through my brain, and thus I must entertain it. sometimes, you need to give your brain a break from all the worldbuilding and politics, and just write about something domestic (or, as domestic as solving a potential murder can be lol). I haven't ever written a story with the purpose of exploring my own experiences, so that's also new for me x)) anyway, I'm unsure where this will take me still, but ya know. it's the journey that matters anyway:D

if we're still doing taglists, I may make one if someone wanted to be on it lol

[coraniaid]

Who do you think tended to be consistently the strongest and weakest writers on the Buffy staff? [With the obvious caveat that TV writing is collaborative of course.]

Looking only at writers who are credited with at least five episodes so that we've got a decent sized sample of their writing (and, as you say, pretending for the sake of the argument that each episode was written entirely by the writer named in its credits), our long list is:

Dean Batali and Rob Des Hotel co-wrote five episodes together, starting with Season 1's Never Kill A Boy On The First Date and ending with Season 2's Killed By Death

Jane Espenson wrote twenty-three episodes, starting with Season 3's Band Candy and ending with Season 7's End Of Days (co-written with Doug Petrie)

David Fury wrote seventeen episodes, starting with Season 2's Go Fish (co-written with Elin Hampton) and ending with Season 7's Lies My Parents Told Me (co-written with Drew Goddard)

Drew Goddard wrote or co-wrote five episodes, all in Season 7, starting with Selfless and ending with Dirty Girls.

Drew Z. Greenberg wrote six episodes, starting with Season 6's Smashed and ending with Season 7's Empty Places

David Greenwalt wrote eight episodes, starting with Season 1's Teacher's Pet and ending with Season 3's Homecoming

Rebecca Rand Kirshner wrote eight episodes, starting with Season 5's Out Of My Mind and ending with Season 7's Touched

Steven S. Knight wrote five episodes, starting with Season 5's Blood Ties and ending with Season 6's Seeing Red

Marti Noxon wrote twenty-three episodes, starting with Season 2's What's My Line? (Part 1) (co-written with Howard Gordon) and ending with Season 7's Bring On The Night (co-written with Doug Petrie)

Doug Petrie wrote seventeen episodes, starting with Season 3's Revelations and ending with Season 7's End Of Days (co-written with Jane Espenson)

Joss Whedon wrote twenty-seven episodes, starting with Season 1's Welcome to the Hellmouth and ending with Season 7's Chosen

Unfortunately for people who like to claim that being a good person and being a good artist are correlated, I think it's pretty much indisputable that Joss Whedon was consistently the best Buffy writer. As well as every season opener and season finale except for Season 5's Buffy vs Dracula and both Season 6's Bargaining and Grave, Whedon-written episodes include Lie To Me, Innocence, Doppelgangland, Hush, Who Are You?, Family, The Body and Once More With Feeling. You could easily make a plausible top ten of Buffy episodes without picking episodes written by anybody else.

It's true that Whedon has a very particular style, that his characters all tend to default to speaking in a certain way and that he is a lot better at mood and metaphor than tight, multi-layed plotting. I'm not sure this is an approach that necessarily works well outside of the show (as well as easy targets like Avengers 2 or Whedon's bizarre Wonder Woman script or whatever was going on in the post-Chosen comics, I should admit I don't think fan-favorite Firefly is very good either), and by all accounts he's a pretty terrible human being as well, but as a writer on Buffy I think his work is consistently very good. The worst Whedon-written episodes are probably the opening two parter, Welcome to the Hellmouth/The Harvest, Season 1's Nightmares and Season 3's Amends, and I think it's a stretch to call any of them bad episodes.

Of the other good Buffy writers ... well, I wouldn't be much of a Faith fan if I didn't mention Doug Petrie (whose best episodes include Revelations, This Year's Girl, No Place Like Home and Fool For Love), but I think his Season 6 and Season 7 episodes are quite a bit weaker. I'm not a huge fan of Season 4's The Initiative either.

Marti Noxon had as big an influence as anyone on the show other than Whedon, but 'consistent' is not the word I'd use to describe her. Her best epsiodes (I Only Have Eyes For You, Consequences, The Prom, Forever, Bargaining) are fantastic, her worst ... well, she wrote the worst two episodes of Season 3 (Dead Man's Party and Beauty and the Beasts), she wrote Buffy vs Dracula (which I know some people love but I can't stand at all) and she wrote (or cowrote) Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered and Doomed and Into the Woods (all three of which, I think, would be in the running for a list of the show's worst ten episodes).

I think Petrie and Noxon are probably the show's best two writers after Whedon. I know a lot of people really rate Jane Espenson's work, and I do like a lot of her episodes (Earshot and Band Candy are both very good), but she also wrote some real stinkers (Pangs, A New Man and ... again, Doomed). She doesn't quite have any real knockout episodes, for my money.

Worst writer is a more hotly contested category.

David Fury wrote (or co-wrote) Lies My Parents Told Me and Go Fish (and, not to keep banging on about it, Doomed) which is a pretty good claim to the title of "worst writer", but he also wrote Helpless, Choices, Fear Itself and Real Me and at least co-wrote Bargaining. So I don't think, hand on heart, that he can possibly be the worst Buffy writer. Certainly not consistently so.

David Greenwalt wrote (or co-wrote, with Whedon) School Hard and Ted and Faith, Hope & Trick and Homecoming, all very good episodes. But he also wrote Teacher's Pet, which .... uh.

Probably the consistently weakest writers are the ones who didn't really write anything dreadful but also never wrote anything particular amazing.

Dean Batali and Rob des Hotel's worst episode is the forgetable Killed By Death, and I'm not sure I could tell you what their best episode is. Never Kill A Boy On The First Date, maybe? I think I like that one more than most people do.

From the other end of the show's run, there's Drew Z Greenberg, whose worst episode is probably a tie between Him and Empty Places and whose best episode is ... uh. Entropy, maybe? And David Goddard, who only wrote for the show's worst season and who managed to cowrite Lies My Parents Told Me, easily the show's worst ever episode (and I am not as much of a fan of Selfless as many people, although I'd agree it's certainly his best work).

It's no secret that Season 7 is my least favorite season, and while I don't think Season 1 is objectively great, it -- and the early parts of Season 2 -- have a certain nostalgic charm I don't really get from the rest of the show. So I guess I'd pick one of the Drews, either Greenberg or Goddard, if I had to pick a single worst writer. Or fail to pick one, as it happens, because I can't pick between them.

Though I think the absolute best sign that an episode is likely to be a stinker is if it's credited to more than one writer, especially writers who don't normally write as a team. There are a handful of exceptions -- Conversations With Dead People comes to mind -- but on the hand you've got 'classics' like The Pack and Go Fish and Flooded and Life Serial and Sleeper and Bring On The Night and Lies My Parents Told Me and End Of Days. That's a pretty consistent list of dubious to terrible episodes right there.

Oh, and don't forget Doomed, the only episode of the show officially credited to three different writers. Have I mentioned that I don't like Doomed? Because I really don't like Doomed.

[ultravioletqueen]

I wanted to show more Ford x Elin and let's say that @magicalbunbun Reverse Falls Ford inspired me quite a bit to draw Elin, Hector and Angie's version of Reverse Falls.

Elin in reverse falls is Ford's wife and Hector is his biological son. She is usually with Ford and his son at all times and if she is not with them she is probably at home taking care of Angie or painting some painting (a hobby that she started acquire to reduce her stress and anxiety).

Elin is a constant ball of nerves and is usually very skittish because her previous husband (Edgar) used the gun to erase memories on her as a test subject, which ended in her divorcing him after finding out about this, a few years after she met Ford and they ended up getting married.

Elin is a very loving wife and mother and devoted to her family, even if she recognizes Reverse Ford's bad actions, she turns a blind eye because of the love she has for him and that with him she feels safer than ever, he makes her happy and she makes him happy so why ruin that?

Ford definitely adores his wife and sees her as his queen, he spoils her and has her trust in everything, even leaving Will as company (thanks to this, Will is usually very close to Elin, especially if Ford is angry).

The dynamic between Ford and Elin in Reverse Falls is similar to that of Felix and Pepa (encanto) and gomez and Morticia (The Addams Family).

Hector in Reverse Falls is a shyer boy who has a friendship with Will, Hector loves his parents but recognizes that the things they do are wrong, so he usually helps Pacifica/Gideon whenever he can by giving them information.

Hector is still a mamma's boy but he is also super spoiled by Ford, seeing him as his successor and a child with a lot of potential (he probably gave him an pendant for this very reason).

Angie is still as cute as ever :)

(Español)

Quise mostrar más ford x elin y digamos que el ford reverse falls de @magicalbunbun me inspiró bastante a dibujar la versión de reverse falls de elin, hector y angie.

Elin en reverse falls es la esposa de ford y hector es su hijo biológico, ella suele estar junto a ford y su hijo en todo momento y si no está con ellos probablemente esta en casa cuidando de angie o pintando algún cuadro(hobbie que empezó a adquirir para reducir su estrés y ansiedad).

Elin es una bola de nervios constante y suele ser muy asustadiza debido a que su anterior esposo(edgar) uso el arma borra recuerdos en ella como sujeto de prueba, lo que terminó en que ella se divorciara de él tras enterarse de esto, unos años después conoció a ford y terminaron casándose.

Elin es una esposa y madre muy amorosa y devota a su familia, incluso si reconoce las malas acciones de reverse ford ella hace un ojo ciego debido al amor que le tiene y que con el se siente más a salvo que nunca, el la hace feliz y ella lo hace feliz así que ¿porque arruinar eso?

Ford definitivamente adora a su esposa y la ve como su reina, la consiente y tiene su confianza para todo, llegando a incluso dejarle a will como compañía(gracias a esto will suele estar muy cerca de elin, sobretodo si ford esta enojado).

La dinámica entre ford y elin en reverse falls es similar a la de felix y pepa(encanto) y homero y morticia(los locos addams).

Hector en reverse falls es un niño más tímido que tiene una amistad con will, hector ama a sus padres pero reconoce que las cosas que hacen están mal, por lo que suele ayudar a pacífica/gideon cada que puede dándoles información.

Hector sigue siendo un niño de mamá pero también es super mimado por ford, siendo que lo ve como su sucesor y un niño con mucho potencial(probablemente le dio un pendiente por esto mismo).

Angie sigue igual de tierna que siempre :)

[gulliblelemon]

Thanks for the tag, @pagegirlintraining! (I would happily do these forever, so thanks for the purposeful double tag 😅)

Rules: You will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word. My word was FLOUR

(It took me ages to find a 'U' and I nearly gave up...). I challenged myself on this one so these are from FIVE different WIPs! (I will choose one to focus on at some point... probably 🙃).

"F - Fuel for your imagination,” he said, winking over his shoulder.

L - ike everyone else at the time, Elin had been secretly disappointed and had wanted to know more about their Crown Prince and his illicit affair, or drunken hook up, or fairytale love story.

“O - f course he didn’t say that! Because apparently you two are completely incapable of communicating with each other.”

“U - hm, piano,” Simon answered, tugging his cuffs down over his hands. “I already play some keyboard but… yeah.”

R - osh gave him a look, but didn’t say anything. Ayub snorted. “I’m not sure delivering fancy coffee classes as ‘just civil’ you know?”

Maybe I shouldn't worry about double tagging either... so no pressure tagging... @bluedalahorse, @piebingo, @earlgrey-lateatnight with the word SNOW.

[mercurygray]

yes i made another banner and what about it.

None of these are technically works in progress. Just...spare ideas.

a wild HOTD idea appears!

-Iselde in the aftermath of Erryk's defection -Gwayne Hightower...something? IDK. He kind of fascinates me. Maybe him and Elin, with whom he has a history?

regularly scheduled programming:

Space Race AU for Cord and Bucky? overly protective mission control when, cape cookie who

Fred and Brady honeymoon

Cord and Bucky bicycle ride (canon timeline - bonding for just the two of them.)

Cord + Gale being protective of his best friend's already slightly bruised heart + backstory on how it got bruised?

Marion's perspective on their last spicy bit

Marion and the phrase 'old man' (affectionate/incendiary)

Marion Harding Artist AU (everyone say thank you Cam)

Vampire AU based on the new stills of The Radleys re: Dick and Joan

crossover ships no one asked for:

Crank and Marjorie (admit it you can see their children playing hockey already and they're really stinkin' cute)

Billie and Harding (for REASONS okay)

Joan and Gale (have i said this before? I'm saying it now. Mrs. Warren will flip out.)

[ospreyeamon]

some heads are not fit to wear the crown

Houses Ulgo and Rist’s assassination of Price Gaul and Queen Silara Panteer is one of those decisions where – though murder is wrong, though it triggered great strife – I absolutely understand why they did it. Ulgo and Rist removed what they viewed as dangerously incompetent leadership because they believed it was necessary to protect Alderaan.

The Galactic Republic agreed to sign the Treaty of Coruscant because they lost the Great Galactic War. The Imperial fleet had succeeded in occupying Coruscant’s skies, giving them the ability to launch an orbital bombardment at will, while the Republic lacked the means to dislodge them. Imperial troops had taken the Galactic Senate hostage and killed the Supreme Chancellor. Because the Empire had already been winning the war even before they seized the capital to use as a bargaining chip, the Sith Emperor was the one to set the terms of the frosty peace.

The Treaty of Coruscant was a shockingly good deal for the Republic under the circumstances (which is why many in the Empire were so resentful of it). The only territory the Empire demanded they cede which the Empire had not already occupied or was actively contesting was seven uninhabited star systems, when the Republic did not expect to be able to hold most of those fronts. The Empire had Republic representatives followed around by droids to monitor their adherence to the Treaty, but did not demand any Republic citizens be handed over to stand trial in the Empire for crimes real or invented. Crucially, Empire set no caps on the Republic’s ship building or military expenditure and extracted no economic reparations.

Those like Gaul Panteer, Leontyne Saresh and Elin Garza who publicly decried the Treaty, saying that the Republic should have kept fighting rather than accept peace with the Empire, were in denial about the political reality of the situation. At that time, the Republic had no prospect of being able to swing the tide of the war to put themselves in a stronger position in the peace negotiations. If the Republic had refused to ratify the Treaty the Empire could have levelled its capital, killing billions and decapitating institutions like the SIS headquartered on the planet. The only meaningful blow the Republic was dealt by the Treaty of Coruscant was to its pride.

Bouris Ulgo hated the Sith Empire, but he wasn’t an idiot. The Treaty of Coruscant, humiliating though it may have been, gave the Republic the perfect opportunity to rearm itself in the breathing space provided by the Cold War. The Republic was bigger than the Empire – bigger economy, bigger population – so given the opportunity they could out produce and out recruit the Empire. If the Republic was patient, then they could have their vengeance and victory.

But being protected by the Treaty of Coruscant long enough to rearm required remaining part of the Galactic Republic, because the Empire made the Treaty with the Republic. The moment Alderaan seceded, it was no longer protected by the Empire’s promise to withdraw, and the Imperial Military could launch a second invasion without breaking the Treaty. And why wouldn’t the Sith Empire invade Alderaan? What else did all their forces ordered to break off the attacks on Coruscant and other Republic worlds have to do? Gaul Panteer’s very loud and public removal Alderaan from the Republic must have looked like an open invitation for the Empire to come and conquer some beautiful new camping sites.

And for what? Was Gaul Panteer arrogant enough to believe Alderaan so important that he could manipulate the Republic into abandoning the Treaty of Coruscant? Was he so myopic that he imagined he could sit on Alderaan feeling self-righteous with no consequences he hadn’t considered in the heat of the moment? Did he think that he could leverage Alderaan’s status as a Core Founder to extract concessions from the Republic to undo the cessation and stop opposing the Treaty – is that what his secret negotiations with the Republic were about?

Declaring the secession was an act of short-sighted rage. Failing to walk it back was self-absorbed irresponsibly. He placed his people in the firing line of a second invasion without so much as a warning, let alone a consultation.

Gaul Panteer was Alderaan’s senator, not Alderaan’s head of state. He wasn’t the elected monarch, just the reigning Queen’s heir. The decision to take Alderaan out of the Republic never should have been his to make; the question should have been decided by Queen Silara and the aristocratic assembly at the Elysium (and, if Alderaan were actually a democracy during this period, a general referendum).

This raises the question of why Queen Silara didn’t countermand her son’s declaration of secession. Maybe Gaul inherited his lack of strategic acumen from Silara. Maybe she disagreed with the secession, but decided that it was more important to avoid undermining the son she had appointed senator than to keep Alderaan in the Republic; that risk of House Panteer losing face took precedence over the risk of the planet being invaded. Or maybe Queen Silara, who suddenly fell ill upon her son’s return from Coruscant, lost control over the situation because Gaul took advantage of her poor health to usurp her authority.

Whatever the reasons, House Panteer was not doing a good job of fulfilling one of the most ancient traditional functions of any monarchy: making sure your lands won’t be conquered by an external power. Alderaan’s other great noble houses were not doing a good job of encouraging House Panteer to take their job more seriously. Probably the Elysium was already bogged down in the gridlock which would later prevent them from electing Queen Silara’s successor.

Bouris Ulgo was the head of the Alderaani military, its planetary defence force. It was his job to protect Alderaan from invasion. Gaul Panteer had made that job impossible. House Rist, infamous as spies as well as assassins, agreed with his assessment. Possibly the Rists had gotten wind of the Imperial Diplomatic Services overtures to House Thul.

Bouris Ulgo was a soldier, who had killed many times before in defence of his homeworld. Everyone and their pet Thranta on Alderaan seems to know the Rists are assassins; the nobility tolerating a house of assassins among their number implies a tactic approval of the occasional convenient murder.

To protect Alderaan, Ulgo and Rist decided, Gaul and Silara Panteer had to die. Only by killing them could they instigate the election of a new monarch – a monarch who would return Alderaan to the safety of the Republic before the Empire could take advantage.

According to his lore entry, Bouris Ulgo didn’t return to Alderaan after the Treaty with any ambitions of becoming king. I suspect he came back to see to the wellbeing of his lands and his vassals as he hadn’t been able to after the Battle of Alderaan, to keep an experienced eye on the planet’s defences during Panteer’s foolishness, expecting to soon leave again to assist in the Republic’s preparations for the anticipated second war. While some sources say he intended to usurp House Panteer, if that were true it would have made far more sense from him to announce the imposition of martial law and declare himself king immediately after the Panteers’ assassination while loudly denouncing the murders as obviously the work of the Sith Empire, not wait until it was clear that the election of Queen Silara’s successor had ground to a holt because of the assembly’s bickering and House Thul had appeared, plainly planning on letting the Empire in by the back door.

To me, Bouris Ulgo is a deeply tragic figure because his assessment that he alone of the heads of the Great Houses cared more for the good of Alderaan than petty politics was correct. Unfortunately, he was a military man with a military mindset who lacked the skill at political manipulation to achieve his desired goal of returning Alderaan to the Republic, falling back to military tactics inappropriate to the problem he was attempting to fix out of desperation. It feels unfair that Ulgo should be saddled with blame for the civil war over Panteer, when Gaul Panteer’s decision to secede was the pivotal domino in the chain of events which resulted in Alderaan becoming the stage for an Imperial-Republic proxy war.

It really says something about House Panteer that in their planetary missions they accept both factions’ solicitations of alliance and can be swayed to either side. Organa or Thul, Republic or Empire, Jedi or Sith – one is as good as the other if vengeance on Bouris Ulgo will be reaped.

Gaul Panteer claimed such outrage that the Republic conceded to a frankly beneficial peace with the Sith Empire that he took Alderaan out of the Republic, drastically increasing the odds the Sith Empire would launch another attack on the planet. The surviving members of House Panteer claim such outrage that the heads of their house were assassinated because they put the planet in incredible danger that they are willing to support the Thul puppets of that same Sith Empire Gaul Panteer deemed it unacceptable to compromise with, even at the cost of billions of lives. House Panteer’s effective foreign policy is that the last attacker to have assaulted Castle Panteer is the devil who must be destroyed, regardless of the potential cost to Alderaan. Truly, some heads are not fit to wear the crown.

[writersglock]

The Chimaera Chronicles. 1BBY. Issue 30

Oh dear reader, I have missed you! My duties aboard this prestigious vessel have taken hold of my attention - but I must tell you, dear reader, my fingers began twitching as soon as I sat down to write this column, my mind has been practically ablaze with news and 'the tea' as some of my outer rim colleagues would say.

[I'm looking at you, Senior Leiutenant Pyrondi]

So, pull up a chair, dear reader, and get comfortable.

Ever since I joined the Imperial Navy, I have endeavoured to make friends, I have even procured a few in the ISB (that's the Imperial Security Bureau). I have been informed by a rather loose lipped assistant that his supervisor is fraternising with a clerk from the IBS (Imperial Bureau of Standards).

Now I feel it prudent to clarify that my 'informant' hasn't seen anything unbecoming. But he has noted, seeing the clerk waiting, for his supervisor after her work day (outside the ISB's head office).

Of course, I would never assume there is any impropriety in this act, but I feel it imperative to mention that the Empire has very strict rules on - Romantic liaisons...

Unlike other recent gossip, this morsel of tattle has truly, snapped up my attention. I will endeavour to keep you updated dear readers.

Until the next time.

Yours ever faithfully, Commander Elin Hammerly.