#I should come up with a Thomas design

[maddragonfruit]

I designed my Sanders Side swap AU characters in Gacha life 2!

Roman: his clothes and general demeanour are supposed to look a lot more dishevelled and loose, but you can’t do that in Gacha life without making them look completely homeless so I think I did a good job. Also pretend the crown is just one piece of jewellery with both red and green gems.

Virgil: his hoodie is actually just plain white with light purple sleeves but otherwise my design is exactly how I thought it would be.

Patton: the cardigan he’s wearing should be the one he wore in season one just permanently him wearing it, but they don’t have long cardigans in GL2 so I improvised. I also don’t like his glasses.

Logan: pretend he’s wearing 3D glasses except with just two shades of blue, also the lanyard would say some shit like “Logan Sanders - The Skibidi Rizzler 🤔 (and also logic I guess…)

Janus: ugh, I do not like janus’s design at all but the weird green thing on his right hand is supposed to be scales.

Remus: He is supposed to look a lot cleaner and bland but I’m not sure if I like it, I think I’ll have to change his hairstyle cause it looks weird.

Hope you like em!

[chamerionwrites]

Why is it almost always the people whose work ain’t shit that have the most towering enormous ego about it

[deadsetobsessions]

Bruce didn’t come here often. Perhaps that was terrible of him but he couldn’t bear to visit his son’s resting place. It was difficult to equate his high-spirited son, bright as the sun itself and endlessly brilliant despite the more he grew up in, to the cold and lifeless stone engraved with his name and words that did not encompass everything his son was to him.

His hands were full of flowers, Jason’s favorite books, a round rock, and his son’s favorite foods.

Bruce didn’t come here often, because it broke his heart even more when he did, but today was a day that love and grief triumphed over his need to avoid.

He walked down the winding pathway, Alfred a silent sentinel behind him. He hated it, but he understood. Today was the only day Alfred allowed himself to be emotionally closed off. He’d lost a grandson.

Bruce didn’t come here often, but his son’s birthday was a day Bruce would remember how to love and live again, just for Jason.

“I will be over here, Master Bruce.” Alfred stopped at his designated spot, where Bruce had added a bench and a draping tree to shade Alfred as he stood vigil.

The first time they’d- it was April, and the sun- after the funeral, Bruce was lost in the throes of grief and had kneeled over the freshly tilled dirt for hours. Alfred had stood there, in that same spot, in the city’s rare blazing sun until Bruce came back to himself.

Bruce had almost lost his second father that day, and what good was wealth if it could not prevent that? And so, water, shade, a bench, and a space heater was added.

Bruce knows better than anyone how stubborn Alfred can be, when it comes to matters of the heart. After all, he didn’t have to raise Bruce after Martha and Thomas died.

“Alright, Alfred.”

Bruce splits from the haggard butler with pointed looks at the water bottles he’d prepared for today for Alfred (who manages, this time, a faint but amused raise of an eyebrow) and walks towards Jason Todd’s grave.

Here where his son is buried, the grass is kept green. In April, Forget-Me-Nots bloomed and dotted the place where Bruce’s world collapsed with bright colors. In August, it is still green, but the tin engraved with the names of the deceased stood out without the flowers.

Bruce kneeled and quietly arranged the flowers before placing them in the tin. He set the platters of food down and uncovered them. The scent of chili dogs made his heart stutter, flashes of a bright smile and book references blinding Bruce with their nostalgia.

He swallowed, grief building, and placed the stone he’d brought atop the gravestone. He sat back, gripping Jason’s book with white knuckles.

Bruce didn’t turn around when clothing rustled behind him. Alfred would have verbally cut down anyone that dared to approach them today, especially here. That he didn’t do so was telling of who it would be.

“I’m still mad at you, for not telling me as soon as you knew.” Dick Grayson sat down, hand over one of Jason’s school bag pins he had carefully attached to the front of his jacket.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“He deserved better. I should have been there.” Dick whispered, placing another bundle of flowers into the tin. It fit, but barely. “I would have dropped everything to come find him. Even if it wasn’t on time, even if it wasn’t enough, I deserved to be there when he was buried. We were family.”

“I know.” Bruce repeated, no less regretful. In his grief, he had wronged his loved ones. “I’m sorry.”

Dick casted a quiet, assessing eye at him. Bruce stayed quiet.

“It’s too dreary,” Dick said. He took out paints, little statutes of robins, bright birds, and bits and bobs Bruce knew Jason would have loved had he been alive out of his pockets.

“It should be more colorful,” Dick murmured as he placed them artfully against the headstone.

They sat there, for a while. Dick glanced at… at Bruce’s hand, and settled down.

It’d been a while since they’ve spoken, but he knew what the man intentioned to do today. This will be the most Dick will have heard Bruce speak outside of his civilian obligations.

Bruce took the cue and gently opened Jason’s book. He’d bought it for Jason- the first gift- and he’d read it to Jason every night. Dick had a similar book.

“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having little or no money in my purse…”

——

A boy with black hair and blue eyes wandered amongst the graveyard. They’ve been here for a while, and the man’s low rumble was soothing to listen to. The shades that hung about the graveyard settled as he read out loud from the book as his son sat quietly beside him.

As the boy, invisible and intangible, brushed his hand against the gravestone, he wondered why they were reading to an empty grave.

——

Dick had left long before Bruce did.

And when it was time to go, as stars began to climb and as the cold began to nip at his fingers, Bruce heard a quiet voice.

“Do not stand at his grave and weep,” and Bruce turned, recognizing the poem. “He is not there. He does not sleep.”

But there was no-one.

[astridthevalkyrie]

me getting into a new character: how neurodivergent am i allowed to go

cw: fluff + a few mild horny thoughts

Rafayel has this little quirk where he's practically incapable of acting like a normal boyfriend. Or a normal person, honestly. Where other people would just take your hand walking down the street, he holds it out with a too-happy, beaming grin so that he can see you take it yourself. Where other people would just sit down at a fancy restaurant, he makes mock offended noises if you try to sit before he can make a big show of pulling your chair out for you.

Where other people would kiss you, he likes biting.

"I'm thinking," he muses, nibbling on your earlobe, "what about a diamond necklace?"

You sigh, burrowing yourself further into him, back against his chest. You're quite comfortable, and you could even fall asleep if it wasn't for his constant yammering. "No."

"Come on," he complains, sinking his teeth into your cheek this time. You let out a brief sound of exasperation, trying to bat at him, but he remains steadfast, tongue poking out to soothe the minor indent he leaves into your skin. "How'm I supposed to prove myself if you won't let me?"

"How would you buying me a diamond necklace prove anything?"

One of his hands slips under your shirt, resting right under your chest. His fingers knead whatever they get in contact with—it's not painful, actually it feels pretty good, not that you'd ever admit it to him. Though you suppose, turning around in his hold and silently indicating to him to pull you closer may just be admitting exactly that.

"It'd prove I'm not cheap, for one thing. I'd be able to tell everyone, whatever my girlfriend wants, she gets! You're so strange, not wanting anything. Do you even know how rich I am?"

"Tell you what," you mumble, burying your face in his neck and completely melting in his arms as soon as his comforting scent fills your senses, "you buy me a quesadilla tomorrow and I'll tell everyone you're practically my sugar daddy."

Rafayel scoffs. "Like anyone would ever believe you were a sugar baby. You don't have the constitution for it."

That might be a new lead in the top ten strangest insults you've ever heard from him. Shooting a small glare up his way, you bite back, "Are you going to let me sleep or are you gonna keep talking?"

"Keep talking," he answers without hesitation, then barrels forward before you can protest. "Hmm, maybe I should just fill my place up with amenities for you. Cheese plates in the kitchen. Exfoliators in the bathroom. A butler to take your coat."

The ridiculous idea of him hiring a butler just so someone could occasionally take your coat from you when you come over makes you laugh, which in turn puts a pleased smile on his face and accidentally encourages him to continue.

"What's that kids' movie you like? Twelve Dancing Princesses? What if I just repaint this room with the floor design from that?"

Now hang on. This one actually interests you, the idea of playing out your childhood fantasies out by dancing around in Rafayel's room. If you asked, you're sure he'd hire someone to replicate the same dress the main character from that movie wears too. "Wouldn't that be embarrassing? Anyone who comes here would see it."

"Yeah, something tells Thomas won't care. And if anyone else does come here, they'll probably write a boringly long article meant to flatter me. Renowned artist is super nice and generous to his childish girlfriend—"

"Says the guy who cried during Island Princess," you fire back, "also, it's nice to know you're only trying to spoil me for acclaim."

"Hello? Did you miss the part where I said boringly long? I'm trying to spoil you because I want you to spend my money."

"Why? It turns you on or something?"

"Maybe," he grins, pretending to lean in to kiss you, then sinking his teeth into your cheek once more the second you purse your lips to meet him halfway. With a quiet growl, you kick at his feet, and he only laughs against your skin. "Come oooon, I'm serious. Tell me at least one expensive thing I can get you."

Finally, you open your eyes, looking up at him with all your sincerest conviction. "Raf. If you wanna ruin your reputation and renovate your floor into the Twelve Dancing Princesses one just to prove a point, go for it. But I'm warning you, I'm gonna have to give you the best head of your life if you do that."

Rafayel groans, the hand that's not up your shirt tangling into your hair. "Don't tell me that, you're gonna force me to be selfless and turn it down. This isn't transactional. I give you my card and tell you to go wild, and then you just do it. Nothing in return."

Ah, yes, the Raf classic. Say the sweetest possible thing in the most irritating way he possibly can. Well, two can play at that game.

"If you give me your card and expect nothing in return, I'm going to strictly buy paint supplies in all your favorite brands, all your favorite colors—"

"I don't have favorite colors—"

Clamping a hand over his mouth, you press on. "And your weak attempt to spoil me will fall flat because not only will I only buy things you like, but I'll wire you the entire amount of what I spend the next day."

He lets out a dramatic half-whine, shaking you a little. "Man, you're so embarrassing!" Tugging you closer, he drowns out your complaints with his own protests. "So clingy, stop getting so close to me! Oh my god," he moans, holding your hand tighter the more you try to fight him and pull back, "get away from me, stalker. Let go!"

"Holy shit, you're so annoying—"

"And you're so obsessed with me, it's concerning."

For once, you're the one pouting at him. "I'm trying to sleep. You're really warm. Can you please push my limits later?"

An affectionate smile lights up his face. "Yeah, okay. As long as you agree tomebuyingyouapradabag."

"No."

Rafayel snorts, tucking his face into your hair. "And you think you could handle being a sugar baby."

[brailsthesmolgurl]

WARDROBE MALFUNCTION!

A smol bird requested for this to be written and so here I am, playing fairy godmother! If any of you have any sort of requests, just drop me a dm as I am revived from my death and ready to write more delulus as your solulus!

Context: What happens when your outfit decides NOT to cooperate with you? What will the boys do for you?

Disclaimer: This one-shot is created with me studying their lore on various websites and social media so that I could get a better idea on what colours they like/represent and what style they lean towards. Some of you may disagree but its okay! You can read it as it is and add in your own imagery of a suitable outfit by your hubbies! Warnings: Fluff that might rot your brains.

RAFAYEL

"I am almost done with this piece," Rafayel spoke, eyes still glued to his canvas, one hand holding up his messily stained colour palette, while the other held the brush as he drew strokes across the canvas. "Why don't you go and get changed as you wait for me to finish off this bit, yeah?"

"Yes sir." You quirkily replied and you stood up, spotting him sending you a teasing look given the way you addressed him. Earlier on, some strangers had came by Rafayel's mansion with Thomas to deliver some clothes. Apparently, these clothes are custom made by those luxurious brands specifically for Rafayel. Thomas addressed it as this was one of the ways the luxury brands show their support towards Rafayel's works. ONE OF THE WAYS... At this point, you are convinced that Rafayel is a huge deal and having luxurious brands begging on their knees to work with him sounded like a dream that would never come true to you.

The dress that sat on the bed was delivered for you as well, as per Rafayel's request. There was objection amongst the team that were handling the sponsorship and ambassador deals for the brand. But Rafayel spoke through the phone like he owns the company. "If she does not get a gown, then our business ends. Right now." He hung up abruptly, and the next thing he knew, the dress showed up at his door in less than 30 minutes.

Any brands, regardless luxurious or not, knows the right way and only way to please Rafayel. One wrong move and you are off the chart and some other brand may easily replace you. Hence, nobody dares to mess with Rafayel. Except for you. "The dress on the bed is yours!" He shouted from the living room and you picked up the dress.

The chiffon textured dress is of a forest green colour, going all the way down to your ankles. The strapless design made you gulped as you are not used to outfits of this measure, given the nature of your work, whereas your attire has to be 'appropriate for work in times of need'. Touching the inner material, you sighed in relief as you realised that there was bra padding for you hence you do not have to go all the way out to get a new bra just for this event.

Putting on the dress and zipping it up was easy, and you fit almost perfectly into the dress. The keyword being ALMOST. As you lifted your hands up, the dress started sliding down like it is a floatie on a wet water slide and woop, off it went and onto the ground. You panicked, bending down in one fell swoop and trying to gather the dress so that you can pull it up to your chest again.

But it does not let you go past the waist area unless you unzip it. Groaning, you struggled to find the zip as the dress is really puffy and you did not want to ruin the designer dress. "Is everything okay?" Rafayel stood at the doorway, leaning against the side of his door, as he watched you with amusement written all over his face. He has been standing there for quite a while hasn't he?

You gasped, pulling whatever that is on the floor to cover your chest area and he walked over, analysing the dress and scowling when he found out the reason. "I should have gotten them to measure you instead of just bringing you a standard fit." He took his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen a couple of times. His eyes looked back at you and you bit your lip in embarassment. "Your curves are way too beautiful to be hidden amongst this pile of leaves."

His comment made you giggled. Guess he has the same thought as you. "Toss the dress aside darling, I will get you a new one." Another few taps of the finger, he shows you the dress he has in mind. A purple dress with extravagant sleeves, puffing out like how a jellyfish would and you instantaneously knew why he opted for this dress. "I like purple better anyways."

"But wait Rafayel... this dress is not entirely scrap, maybe I can sew a temporary knot on it to tighten the top so it won't fall off. And there is really no need for you to get another custom one for me as we are running out of time." Your suggestion made him stare at you, purple-blue pupils blown wide as if he has really just witnessed a shark eating grass. iykyk.

He walked over and grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close to him, so close that you could hear the sound of his heart against yours. But at this moment, maybe he could hear yours louder than his. "Nobody can put a price on your love for me. EVER. But, I can sure as hell throw out any price on anyone, regardless the amount, as a representation of how much you worth to me." You looked away immediately, eyes stared at the arms that were holding you in place. He kissed your forehead, chuckling, before he pressed his phone against his ear. "Now, let's see who can make this dress for the price I am willing to pay in 30 minutes time." he makes me feel something

ZAYNE

You waited on a bench in front of Akso Hospital. You figured it would be a great idea to wait for Zayne as he finishes work early today and you might be able to grab dinner with him. You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, looking through your daily for-you-page before a shadow loomed over you. You looked up and no doubt, it is Zayne aka the great and almightly Elsa.

"How long have you been sitting here?" He asked you, before handing you a candy that he had fished out from the pocket of his trench coat. "I was planning to meet you slightly later at your condo." The thought of him initially wanting to surprise you made your heart fluttered. You see, Zayne is a more upfront guy so having him to plan surprises are one of the uncalled scenarios.

"I had only been here for a couple of minutes." You lied, taking the candy out of his palm and unwrapped it before you tossed it into your mouth. The raise of his eyebrow towards you made your breath hitched as he knew you too well that you could not lie to him in his face. "Fine, I had waited here since 5pm." This made Zayne looked down at his wrist watch.

"So it's been an hour and 15 minutes?" He side eyed you and you admitted it by nodding your head. "Next time, it would be better if you were to just wait for me at home. If it wasn't for a full deck today at the hospital, I might just be covering shifts for other people and that might be inconvenient for you." But, he himself actually noticed you exactly an hour and 15 minutes, from his office's window, before his upcoming surgery. He had another three surgeries lined up for the night, but fearing that you may end up waiting the whole night for him, he decided to cancel his schedule for the night and transfer the case to other doctors. Even workaholics take a break. iykyk

"But I just wanted to come over to check up on you. I even chose to sit outside so that you would not be distracted as you are working." You pouted, hands picking at the hem of your shirt. You felt Zayne's hand landed on the top of your head, a gesture of love and comfort. He patted and smoothed your brunette strands back and you stared up at him. "I shall wait for you at home next time okay?"

"Now that's a good girl." killmeplease Zayne smiled warmly. "Now, lets get you back alright? My car is parked right by the road side. Come on." Hands around your waist, he slowly walked you over to his car. The smell of his cologne lingered on your nose, the smell of mint and dashes of cinnamon. Just like his personality, icy as mint but warm and welcoming as cinnamon once you get to know him.

He opened the car door for you and as you walked over to get into the car, your shirt got hooked against one of the metal wires that went astray from the metal fencing and the next thing you heard was the sound of a ripping cloth. You yelped as you stumbled and Zayne slotted himself right in front of you, shocked as well and using his body to block you from falling further. "Oh my..." Your cursed under your breath as your hands were against his washboard abs, steadying yourself. doublekill

He guided you into the car slowly before getting into the driver side himself. When he had started the car and turned on the air conditioning, he turned to look at you. "How bad is the rip?" He asked and you lifted the hem of your shirt, showing the rip that is around 4cm long.

"Why does this have to happen to one of my favourite shirt?" You frowned, fingers won't stop touching and fidgeting with the ripped edge.

"Do they still sell this shirt?" Zayne asked, hands reaching over to tug against the shirt, as if to examine the material of the outfit. The shake of your head made him sigh and he gestured to the glovebox. "Open the glovebox and take out the black pouch please."

You did as you were told and you watched in confusion as he took off his trench coat and placed it onto your lap. The coat still radiating warmth that was collected off of his body heat. He opened the black pouch and laid it flat on the arm rest of his car, and inside of the pouch was an array of threads and needles. "Are these suture needles?"

"Yes." His response was prompt. "Take off your shirt and hand it to me please." He requested and you gulped. Using the trench coat to block his view, you slowly took off your shirt and then wrapped his trench coat around your whole front. You knew that he had probably seen many naked bodies given his line of work but something about this scenario, with you being with him only in a car, felt very intimate and it made you very anxious. "You know how to sew?"

"I am a doctor, I know how to suture. And it is the same concept as sewing, but only with different kinds of needles and threads." He then started sewing, his concentration a trait you find admirable. It did not took him long when he finished sewing your shirt and he handed it back to you, the thread sewed on has gaps of equal length and was tied off neatly. As expected of one of the top doctors from Akso Hospital. As he started driving, he added. "Although I had managed to sew the shirt for you, I believe with my connections, I would be just as capable to find you the same shirt. Then, you would never have to complain about this being your only favourite shirt."

XAVIER

You were going about your day in your own house before you heard your doorbell ringing. You placed your bowl of cereal down and took a glance on the clock on your phone. Who dares to threaten your peaceful weekend? You went over to the door and you opened it to reveal your blond hair lover. "Xavier?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed when he smiled at you.

"Good morning, I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He teased and stepped in, holding out a parcel for your. "I believe this belongs to you?" The small rip at the top side of your parcel indicated that he probably took a peek on what's inside. Acknowledging the parcel, you took it off of his hands and you blushed, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

"Good morning to you too. I guess I might have accidentally wrote your level instead of mine." You bit your bottom lip and you heard him chuckle in return. "But thanks for coming down to deliver this to me when you could have just asked me to get it from you." "But I wanted to see you personally. And seeing the clothes that are in the parcel, I thought I could get to watch you try them on too." His blunt answer made you stare at him like a mad man. His blue eyes however, glinted with nothing but honesty. This guy may be mysterious but he sure is straightforward in stating what he has on his mind. He probably noticed the way you reacted and he took a step back, retracing his words and slightly coughing to ease the awkwardness. "I mean, I would like to see you trying out these new outfits that you had gotten for yourself. It would be a good past time for me."

You chuckled at how goofy this guy is and gestured towards him to go and sit at the couch. You went into the room to get yourself changed and it was as if today is your fashion show day. You strutted out in different outfits, layered against one another and watched the way Xavier would react to you, either fascinated, or straight down confused. There was even this one time, he would just have a blank expression where you wore an oversized shirt under your tshirt. Clothing trends on the streets nowadays baffles him and he wondered if he was the one that was left out from the fashion ring.

Your last outfit featured you in a semi see through tank top and a pair of cargo pants. Not to mention, the tank top seemed to be too small for you as the way the blond boy sees it, it was holding onto your figure for dear life and barely leaving anything more to one's imagination. And the thought itself ticked him off. When you looked over towards Xavier, he does not look surprised nor confused, but rather bland. "What do you think?" Your tone came off to be amused and you did a twirl in front of him before you took a seat right next to him.

Xavier anxiously gulped and looked away from you, his voice low as he muttered. "I don't think this outfit looks nice on you, girlfriend." The way he shifted in his seat made you cornered him against the couch even more, wanting a better explanation. "The top you are wearing. I don't like it."

"And why so?" You asked, looking down at your top and adjusting it. "This is the trend nowadays, they call it the Y2K trend I think. And this tank top was on sale, so I just got it."

"I can buy you some other clothes. Even the ones that are not going to be on sale." He retorted, eyeing the tank top you were wearing with an underlying anger. "I just don't think I would like to see you wearing this in public. It is too revealing, and I guess tight on your body."

His answer painted your cheeks red and you gasped. What were you thinking? Of course you had forgotten about his possesive nature. He does not show it much and having such a pretty boy face like him further disconnects the word 'possessive' from his character. He reached into his hoodie's front pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up an app and handed the phone to you. When you refused to take it, he lifted his torso off of the couch to 'force' you to take his phone. Just like how you had previously pressed your body against him, this is his turn to take his small and sweet revenge. You panicked as he closed the gap between you two and within the next minute, he was pressed against you, one of his hand at the side of your head and another still holding his phone up to you, his gaze intense. "Just choose whatever you want from my phone, my card information is all in there. And perhaps before you check out, you can let me double check on the outfits you are getting." He low-key demanded before he explained himself for such a decision. "I just don't like nor want people staring wrongfully at what I treasure the most."

Another fluff for another day. I already did my best in having to think of different wardrobe malfunctions as I did not want one theme of wardrobe malfunction to be stagnant across the whole story for all three of the boys. SO I hope you would understand my lovelies. :,) I am very very free so I will be posting more regularly for these few weeks. SO please do show me more love and support as that would aid me in my motivation in writing!

Do check out my other works as well!

HOW WOULD THE BOYS REACT TO YOU FORGETTING ABOUT YOUR DATE?

DAMNATION

Hope your Delulu is satisfied my lovelies <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Members Only 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Grace is in tears. She’s babbling as Charlotte and Mona try to mop up her running mascara. The bottle of champagne is empty and Lillian is mindlessly swaying at the window as the club lights flash into the room. It’s chaos. You’re not sure exactly what to do. 

You’ve been with Mrs. Shelby for a few months. Typically, she’s the sort for high tea or a luncheon. Often, you’re following her around to the elitist events and waiting outside watching your phone. Or you attend her privately why she rants about the newest designs be so hard to come by or that she can’t go to Paris whenever she wishes. Her biggest complaints are your most unlikely dreams. 

“I just don’t understand... I try so hard,” she garbles and slurs drunkenly.  

You try not to listen too closely. You’re there to take orders and to make certain she is taken care of. The other women are looking after her just fine and you’d hate to embarrass her by consciously witnessing her unraveling. 

Mona burps behind her hand and you see how her throat locks up. She’s hardly in better condition. Charlotte is slumping from her foray into the tequila and hardly seems cognizant of more than try to clear away the grey streaks from Grace’s cheeks. 

You rush forward as Mona’s shoulders rise. You grab the metal bucket meant for ice and shove it under her mouth. She throws up and hugs the container as she fills it with alcoholic bile and half-digested crustini. Charlotte groans and covers her mouth. 

“Oh, Mona, why do you have to do that?” She whines, “ugh, I need to get out--” 

She hurries off into the attached bathroom and the door slams. Lillian is still entirely unaware. You wonder if it has anything to do with the pill she slipped from a small tin earlier. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter. What concerns you is what’s happening right then. 

Mona finishes and nearly drops the bucket. You catch it and set it on the bar. She slumps back and closes her eyes, her head lolling as she mutters. This is no way for refined women to behave. You could never have seen Grace like this, let alone these women in their Chanel and Louboutins. 

“Mrs. Shelby,” you go to your boss and lean down, “should I get the car?” 

“Where is my husband?” She snarls in your face, her tears dissolving at once. “I want Thomas. Right now.” 

“Mrs. Shelby, I don’t know if he’s still here--” 

“I don’t care if he’s here,” she snaps and pushes you away, “don’t talk to me until you find him.” 

You gulp and rub your shoulder where she shoved you. This isn’t good. It’s the very reason you don’t drink. People are so ugly when they do. 

You turn to Mona as she groans, half-bent over her lap. Charlotte returns in a stagger and Lillian sways with her head and shoulders slouched. Alright, you have a plan. 

“Lil,” you go over to the woman by the window, “can you help Mona? Your taxi is here?” 

“Taxi? Where’s the streetcar?” She demands. 

“It’s been delayed but the cab will get you all home,” you promise her, plotting how you’ll flag down a car once you get them out in the fresh air. “Mona,” you go back to the woman on the couch. “Charlotte, how about you help too! It’s been a long night, aren’t you all tired?” 

Your pulse is thumping in your temples. You rarely ever speak to Grace’s friends, especially not like this. You feel like a mother getting her children in line. The three companions finally cluster together, Mona clinging to the other two as they wobble towards the door. You lead them as if you’re dangling cheese before a mouse. 

It takes some time and a few close calls to get them down the spiralled stairs. On even ground, they move a bit better but the dancing bodies and hollers add to the disorder of the night. When you get them outside, a bouncer catches Lillian before she slip on her stiletto heel. He’s got a round belly and a leering smile. 

“Careful, ma’am, that’s a mighty fine dress to be mussing,” he warns as he sets her straight. 

You skirt around them and wave at a yellow car just down the way. As it heads towards you, you take out your phone and sift through Grace’s shared contact book. Oh gosh, where is Charlotte? You suppose if you send them to just one house, they’ll be alright. 

You find Charlotte’s address as the driver pulls up. The bouncer comes forward again to assist the women into the car and you thank him. He dips his head chivalrously as he folds Lillian’s legs into the taxi. You cringe and poke your head inside to instruct the driver. You hope they get there otherwise you might be handing out resumes again. 

You shut the door and turn back to face the club. You’re not the sort to frequent those places and only Grace’s presence lures you in. The bouncer walks you back to the doors and you flit back inside. You’re caught in the crush, sent crashing into another person by a flailing body. You fight through the crowd, putting your elbow up as you raise your other arm to protect your head. 

You trip free of the wall of dancers and reach the bottom of the stairs to the private room. You blow out a breath and look up, then around. You should try to find Mr. Shelby. You need help with Grace as it is but you’re terrified that you may get her into trouble. She’s drunk and she’s not thinking. You doubt he’ll be impressed with her in her current state. He rarely seems impressed with anything. 

“Are you looking for me?” The voice jolts you and you jump as you face the very man who’d only just been haunting your mind. You nod and blink dumbly. “My wife...” 

“Sir, um,” you look back and forth guiltily, “she’s... not feeling well--” 

“She’s drunk,” he says pointedly. “Hmm,” his lips curve but it’s not really a smile. “Yes, she does love her champagne. We discussed this before, didn’t we?” His dark lashes flick and his jaw squares as he peers up the stairs, “well, then, shall we go save her from herself?” 

“Um, sir, she didn’t eat much, maybe--” 

“Do not make excuse for her. I pay you to keep her busy, not to cover her tail,” he insists, “please, after you.” 

He gestures up the stairs and you lower your gaze, “I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. I’m only concerned for her.” 

“Someone should be if she isn’t concerned for herself,” he remarks. 

You turn and start up the steps. He follows, closely. You lead him up the metal stairs and open the door to the private room. Your met with the shatter of the champagne bottle as it flies at the door frame next to you. You put your hand up as shards of glass rain across your right side. 

“How dare you leave me like that--” She snarls. 

“Grace!” Mr. Shelby brushes by you, nudging you gently out of his way, only to storm towards his wife. 

“Oh, there you are,” she sneers, “finally done with your whore--” 

“I’ve been about business while you’ve been here drowning in champagne. Champagne I am paying for.” He bends over her, looming dangerously. 

“Business,” she mocks then scoffs as she stares up at him defiantly, “sure.” 

“Don’t,” he warns as he stands straight, “I paid for you to have a night out. I thought perhaps you might appreciate that. I wonder when you became so spoiled.” 

She pouts and juts out her chin, “Tommy...” she reaches for him as he turns away, tearing his sleeve away from her grasp.

He marches for the door and stop right beside you, “are you alright?” 

“Sir, I was only startled--” 

You wince as he dusts off a piece of glass from your shoulder. 

“Get her home,” he demands, “but not at your own risk. I wouldn’t be so disappointed to hear if she blusters herself into the gutters.” 

He huffs and pulls open the door. You watch him go as Grace devolves into drunken sobs. You hope she doesn’t remember this. You’d rather forget it yourself. 

[mvltisstuff]

hii!! i hope your summer has been/was wonderful!!

if it’s possible could you do an evan buckley request to “begin again” by taylor swift?

where reader was in a really rough relationship and now with buck he’s treating her like an actual goddess and she’s constantly questioning to herself how she deserves it and mentioning how weird it is that he actually cares about/loves her.

thank you so so much in advance!! 🫶

begin again - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @meep-meep-richie

a/n: guys i’m SO sorry i have been so slow again w the fics, i’ve just been trying to enjoy summer as much as i can, but i certainly have some coming your way ;)) thank you for the request love, and i hope the rest of your august is lovely <3 i did a bit of a different style with this, hope you enjoy

“can you keep your location on this time?” her boyfriend asks, seeing her getting ready in the mirror.

“i’m just going to work, thomas,” y/n chuckles, thinking it was harmless, but she was his eyes roll almost to the back of his head.

“i’m just asking you one thing, y/n,” he groans.

“i just think you could trust me, i have a long shift today,” she brushes her hair back into an elastic, getting her belongings before grabbing her phone. she always tells herself that she’ll stand up for herself, but she falls into his traps anyway. she presses the small button hesitantly, showing him her location.

“hi, buck!” she greeted, as he walks in the door. he jogs right up to her, kissing the side of her cheek as she giggles into his touch. “i’m going out with some friends tonight, but i’ll be back before you know it so we can spend time together!”

“don’t rush, baby,” he laughs. “take your time with your friends, have a fun night.” he goes to love his stuff onto his counter, but she follows up behind him.

“oh, here, i’ll send you the link to find my friends,” she looks down at her phone, so she doesn’t see the confusion written all over his face.

“the link to what?”

“i’m just gonna send you my location, so you don’t have to ask.”

“honey, i don’t need your location,” he smiles lightly, giving her reassurance and it’s her turn to be confused.

“a-are you sure?” her nose crinkles along with her brows.

“of course, i trust you, always,” he tells her, letting the weight on her shoulders drop. she was hoping he wasn’t mad, but he would never, ever get mad at her for something as silly as that.

“oh!” she says, shocked but still appreciating him. “okay, thank you, i’ll be back in a bit.”

“don’t thank me, just be safe,” he pecks her lips again, watching her skip happily out the door.

y/n looked back in the long mirror again, slipping on a pair of heels to compliment the adorable dress she was wearing. they went along perfectly, and now she finally had an occasion to wear them. she was thrilled to show thomas her outfit, feeling pretty in her own skin and twirling the dress out in the mirror. she turned around, expecting a bright smirk on his face, but she was met with a flat expression.

“what’s wrong?” she asked, concern written in her words.

“nothing,” he grumbles, moving over to adjust his sleeves and grab something from the nightstand.

“no, somethings wrong. i can tell in your voice.”

“y/n, leave it,” he sighs, looking over at y/n who’s still waiting for a response. “are you sure you want to wear that?”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, its a bit too much, don’t you think?” y/n looked back at the dress, not seeing anything wrong with it. maybe it was the design, her body, but clearly something was wrong with it. maybe she just couldn’t see the way he does. “we’re not going to the club, are we?”

“no, but i wanted to look nice.”

“maybe you should keep looking,” he tried to disguise his heartbreaking words with a light grin, but y/n saw right through it. he loves her, he just wants what’s best for her and she knows he knows best. so, she hung the dress back up and put the heels back in their box. she ran into the bathroom to change again, practicing happy smiles and tried to fight back the stinging tears in her eyes. he doesn’t want her to ruin her makeup.

buck and y/n’s schedules had aligned again, letting her finally be able to meet his real work family. she was so happy she could finally enter this part of his life, and only wanted to support all of his team at the 118.

y/n had been in the bathroom for a while, a little too long for buck to not have any concern. she was examining her outfit, the same dress she wore when thomas told her to take it off. she still felt beautiful in it, but not as much as she did. she never realized how easily someone could take away her confidence. she figured she’d at least leave a pair of new heels out, thinking buck would appreciate the simple sandal.

“y/n?” he knocks, lightly. “you doing alright, honey?”

“yeah!” she answers, suddenly getting that nervous feeling in her stomach. she hesitated on opening the door, but she clicked the lock and pulled it open. she felt more vulnerable than ever standing in front of him. she knew his reaction and that he’d want it off, but she was only met with complete admiration.

“woah,” he exhales, looking at her gorgeous dress and wonderful figure underneath.

“i can change if you don’t want me to wear this, i have a few more options in the bathro-“

“are you kidding? you have to wear this, you look so beautiful in this, y/n!”

“i do?” she asks, looking into his genuine eyes.

“of course you do, what makes you say that?”

“it’s just that, you know, it’s nothing,” she tried to walk back over to the shoe rack, looking for her sandals but his hand stops her.

“hey, talk to me,” buck requests, softly but also wanting her to be able to open up.

“my ex didn’t like this dress, he didn’t think i was good enough for a piece of fabric,” she laughs sarcastically, but buck can tell it hurts her still.

“well, he’s a dumbass, a dumbass who lost you,” he replies. “i’ve never seen someone more gorgeous than you, i don’t care what anyone says. i’ll spend every day proving it to you.”

“how do you do that?”

“do what?”

“just make everything so much better without trying?”

“oh, you know,” buck jokes, putting his arm around her shoulder. “im a natural, that’s all.” she slaps his shoulder, laughing at him before going off to see his family.

y/n stood in the corner of the room in an outfit she never wanted to wear today. she watched everyone converse in a friendly way, only few people stopping by to say hello. even if they did, it lasted a few minutes. she quickly became a decoration to thomas, just being there for silent support before he ditched her for more rich businesspeople. she sipped lightly at her small glass of champagne, wishing she had the whole bottle with her.

he didn’t see any potential in her, not even caring to introduce her until someone asked who she was. she never had felt more out of place, but it became a regular thing. he’d venture off to talk to other people, leaving y/n in the dark. she felt like she was just swept under the rug, something to deal with later.

“bobby, come over here!” buck shouted across the room, waving his hand for bobby to come over. when he did, he had a welcoming smile on his face and shook y/n’s hand. “this is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“it’s nice to finally meet you, y/n,” he says. “we’ve heard a lot about you, like a lot.”

“thank you for having me today,” she replies gracefully, looking at buck who’s glancing back at her with pride in his face.

“it’s our pleasure, really, you’re a delight, y/n.” athena walks in, wrapping her arm around bobby’s waist and offering y/n a drink. buck guides her over to chim and hen who sat together on one of the benches in the grants backyard.

“y/n, this is henrietta, or hen, and then chimney,” buck smiles, his hand still connected with hers and letting her say hello to everyone.

“my real names howard, by the way, not sure if that one bothered to mention that,” chimney pokes fun at buck, who pretends to be offended for a moment but just lets it be.

“i’m glad we can put this lovely face to the name,” hen beams, looking at y/n and feeling the positivity radiating from her. “maybe you can rub off on that one.”

“my names not ‘that one’ by the way, and i’m right here!” buck fake complains, but knowing they all have a good heart. “i’m about to leave and take her with me.”

everyone groans in complaint, making y/n laugh and buck leading her to sit next to everyone. she makes her rounds saying hello to athena’s kids and eddie, everyone finding her to be so graceful. the acceptance from everyone was fully unexpected on y/n’s part, barely being able to comprehend how buck could be so in love with her. she had stepped out for a moment after assisting athena and bobby in the kitchen, buck following right after her.

y/n never got this treatment from thomas, always feeling like she had to beg for it but it was so easy for buck. it made her years of insecurity and questioning vanish, only to be replaced with the security from her loving man.

“you alright?” he asks, meeting her by the steps of the home.

“yeah, i’m perfect!” she tells him. “i just didn’t expect this.”

“they all love you, what’s not to love?” he replies softly, looking her up and down. “you’re smart, you’re the sweetest person i’ve ever met, you’re wonderful in every way, y/n.”

“i remember when thomas took me to work events, and i was just in the corner with a drink. no one really noticed i was there, so it just came as a surprise to see you so affectionate.”

“i’ll always show you off, you’re the best woman i’ve ever met. i want the whole world to know that i managed to get you, and also,” he kisses her lips, bringing her thoughts back down to earth to ease her worries. “i love you, a lot.”

in that moment, y/n knew buck was everything that her ex could never be.

[knight-a3]

So, in the midst of drawing transformers, I got it in my head that I must turn it into a character design project and start making human designs.

Naturally, I start with my favorites. Which is Blitzwing, Astrotrain, and my beloved OC, Smokestack. More about them HERE and HERE

Smokestack's human design came instantly. Then he became a kid so I could have Blitzdad. Then I started crafting backstories, and it became a whole thing. I'll make another post to get into more detail with that.

More notes under the cut.

Overall, this managed to escalate into something separate from transformers and these are now all OCs in their own right.

Gunther Arnold Kriegsler, aka "Blitz" or "Blizter". He's a veteran with PTSD, particularly from the time he spent as a prisoner. He escaped with the help of Andrei Tomaski. The two are now best bros and roommates. Then social worker people call and tell Blitz that his now-deceased girlfriend had a kid while he was away, so now he's suddenly a dad of a four year old son he didn't know he had. And he doesn't really know what to do about it.

Samson Kohler (he has his mom's last name). Born while Blitz was a prisoner, mom dies when he's four. He bounces around foster homes for a little while until Blitz returns and gets to move in with his dad. He LOVES trains, hyperfixated actually. He is autistic about them, and I don't use that description lightly. He especially likes steam trains. He can tell you all about the 4-4-0s and the 2-8-0s and what the various personnel do. He taught himself math so he could count the wheels, and he could read the word train before any others. Blitz always has the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song stuck in his head now. Their house has become overrun with train stuff.

I'm unsure of if I should still be tagging this as transformers since it sorta evolved itself out of it. But I am for now. Maybe I'll stop after I post the various other human designs I've come up with.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Language Barriers

same anon as like 5 minutes ago, I remembered the fluffy prompt! Could you write a Sanders Sides DLAMPR fic (before they get together) where all of the Sides have different love languages? And they’re all trying to flirt in their own way, but the others keep misinterpreting it? A lot of TSS fic features the Sides having different love languages (and I’d like to think they do, in canon), but I’ve yet to see a fic that specifically focuses on that fact and describes the differences between love languages. Feel free to ignore, and remember to take care of yourself! – anon

hey I love love love love LOVE your writing! If you’re open to prompts rn, I’ve just reread your story "Idiots, Idiots, Everywhere" and it’s awesome, thanks very much, BUT. Are you willing to write a Sanders Sides fic where it focuses more specifically on all the Sides having different love languages? Bonus points if it’s DLAMPR (but platonic PR, this is an incest-free household) and all the Sides are like “…but he’s like this with everyone”. No pressure at ALL, but it’d be cool to see how you approach that. – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 3431

Or, five times the Sides misunderstood each other's love languages, and one time Thomas got fed up with it and decided to just...explain it to them with the efficiency they have when they're trying to explain something to him. Which is to say: it takes them a second to get it. The Imagination helps.

Physical Touch

If you were to ask anyone, they would tell you that Patton loves giving people hugs.

It’s the bane of some of their existences, they’d try to claim, and the others might just shrug and say that’s Patton for you. He knows his kiddos love it, at least a little bit. But he won’t lie, he does love a good hug. There’s just something so magical about how, out of all the shapes humans could have possibly been, they’re just perfectly designed to hold one another. Isn’t that just perfect?

Logan would probably say something about evolution and adaptation to the needs of their environment, or something, but he’s not gonna rain on Patton’s parade. Humans are hug-shaped, so they’re gonna hug. Besides, he’s not complaining when he’s working downstairs in the winter and he’s gotten too absorbed in his work and then a Patton-shaped heating pad just comes along and hugs him.

Patton loves hugging all of the Sides. Logan because he’s always so surprised by it, in a good way! He gets this soft little look that is almost on the edge of a smile, like he wasn’t expecting it but it’s the best possible outcome he never could have predicted. Or when he’s trying to comfort Patton and he hugs with undeniable certainty.

Virgil is also fun to hug, because he’s such a pouty-face about it. He snuggles up as much as any of them but he has to put on his mopey show first, just in case anyone’s watching. Virgil also gives the mopey hugs too, but then he makes himself just a bit bigger so he can wrap all the way around Patton. Which is the best.

Speaking of wrapping all the way around, Janus has six arms and he uses every single one of them. They get into competitions sometimes—not serious! It’s all for fun!—about who can surprise-hug each other the worst. Or best. Janus is currently winning from the time he managed to make himself look like the chair in the living room with a blanket over it; Patton sat down and boo!

Remus isn’t allowed to do surprise hugs, not after he accidentally tackled Patton into his Kraken’s pond and they had to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get out of the pond. But Remus’s hugs are the kind that squish his soul right back into his body and ugh, there’s nothing better than that after a long day. Besides, it’s not like expecting Remus’s hugs takes anything away, he’s still going to squeeze him so hard he might not be able to breathe for a few seconds, but that’s Remus!

And then with Roman—Roman hugs the way every single knight from a fairytale should hug. He just makes you feel safe and precious and like nothing in the world could hurt you. It’s why Patton always sits next to Roman during scary movie nights, after all, even if he gets teased about it a little. Roman doesn’t mind.

So yes, Patton does love hugging all of them. But it doesn’t have to be hugging! It can be holding hands, or just leaning against each other, just as long as he can feel them and tell himself yes, they’re okay, they’re right here, I love them.

Because he does. He loves them terribly. Even if they think he’s just a big fan of hugs.

***

2. Quality Time

Virgil has the reputation of being the cat of the Mindscape for good reason. Not because he hisses at things that don’t cooperate—the other Sides are not excluded from this—and not because he spits up hairballs—it was one time, Remus, and it was entirely your fault—but because he has a habit of just appearing in the same room and hanging out for a while.

…alright, it’s not a habit, he does it on purpose.

Companionable silence really is the best way to go about things. You’re both close enough to talk if you want to, but each of them is allowed to do their own thing and hey, there’s another person doing their own thing too. Which is why it’s his favorite way of hanging out with Logan, especially when he needs to make sure that something gets done. He’s always down to affectionately bully Logan into whatever he asks him to make sure he does.

He does that with Remus too, but it’s not exactly the same: Remus needs someone to make sure he doesn’t actually destroy anything, and he’s more than happy to oblige. Especially since he likes to get a bit of a heads-up before a rampaging beast goes barreling through the kitchen at some ungodly hour of the morning.

If he’s never beating the cat allegations, Janus sure as hell isn’t helping. There’s a big window in the Dark Sides’ half of the Mindscape that is perfect for lying in for, oh, a few hours on end. Remus has many—too many, if you ask Virgil—pictures of the two of them just basking in the sun, dozing like they haven’t got a care in the world.

Virgil’s actual favorite place to sleep is with his head in Patton’s lap. Especially after he’s just finished baking, when he’s all warm from the oven and he smells like sugar and spice…Virgil will sit on the counter or the floor and listen to Patton talk about whatever he wants and then while the oven bakes, he’ll fall asleep right in Patton’s lap. He even gets first dibs on whatever just got made.

Roman makes a game of it. He’s the Prince, every good Prince needs a rogue to work with. They trek all over the Imagination, having adventures, defeating monsters, it’s the perfect mix of Roman’s quests and Virgil’s need to be a creepy little shit in every dark corner he can find. Being with Roman even makes boring council meetings fun, because he gets to terrify the idiots that they’re just gonna fight later anyway and he gets to spend time with Roman.

He doesn’t care what he’s doing, not really, just as long as he can spend time with them. He just…wishes they would understand that sometimes.

***

3. Words of Affirmation

Logan is no stranger to impostor syndrome, but that doesn’t mean he has to allow it to plague those he cares for. Understanding something to be true on an intellectual level and feeling the validation that comes from hearing someone else voice it are two very different things. The other Sides are each remarkable in their own right. They deserve to hear it.

Patton is kind. He does not say that lightly: kind people who choose to be kind because they know how difficult it is are not individuals to be trifled with. Patton makes the conscious choice to try and be better every single day. He is earnest and sincere, sometimes painfully so, but he does not allow himself to be dissuaded by obstacles. How could Logan not want to express his admiration?

And Roman…oh, Roman is a wonder. There is so much that goes into his work that often goes unnoticed, or underappreciated, and it is a crime that Logan too often finds himself on the wrong side of that line. Roman is clever and funny and has a work ethic that, truly, rivals Logan’s own. For every slight he makes, however unintentional, he tries his best to make up for it by telling Roman in no uncertain terms how honored Logan is to be part of his creative process.

Remus is an entirely different story, no pun intended. Remus is unabashedly and unapologetically himself, and as such is a marvel to behold. He cares not for the sanitization or reduction of anything in his work, and so Logan does his best to follow suit. Remus is who he is, and it is beautiful.

He tells Janus he’s beautiful too. And not once is he lying. The first time he did it, Janus laughed in his face, at least until he realized Logan was telling the truth. He then didn’t see Janus for an entire week. It ended when a little snake plushie appeared outside of his door in the middle of the night with a tiny note that just said thank you. He tells Janus he’s beautiful every chance he gets now.

Virgil is his little alley cat. Perfectly fine to approach on his terms, but will let him know with no uncertainties when he’s getting a little too close. It doesn’t help that Virgil is quite fun to tease, even if all he’s doing is giving him compliments—true compliments, mind you—and watching in amusement as Virgil curls up into a ball with his hood pulled down over his ears as if that could hide how red they are. He’s not cruel about it, of course; he stops the moment Virgil appears genuinely uncomfortable and there are certain topics he doesn’t go near. But Virgil can’t always hide his little grin and so on it goes.

He’s quite happy to shower them with his words, he just…doesn’t know if they’d believe him if he said I love you.

***

4. Acts of Service

Words are difficult. There is so much ambiguity to be found in even the most basic of sentences, and when it comes to matters like this, Janus prefers to take as few chances as possible. Whoever coined the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words,’ Janus definitely owes a drink for how spot-on it is.

Whenever Patton needs a hand in the kitchen, he’s always the first to volunteer. He can do up to three things in the time it would take another Side to do just one, after all, and he’s had enough experience cooking for the troublemakers (Virgil and Remus) to know how to get around most of their pranks. And how to get them back.

Logan, bless him, has a tendency to overwork himself at the best of times. And in doing so, he gets these terrible knots and cramps in his neck and shoulders from hunching over his desk for hours on end. It might not be the most polite of things to practically blackmail his way into giving Logan a massage, but the poor dear always falls right to sleep so he mustn’t mind too much.

Remus and his delightful menagerie of creatures often need more than their fair share of attention. He had to pester Remus into getting him a raincoat and muck boots that could withstand the acidic slime, but weekend mornings found them strolling cheerfully through pens and cages and paddocks, tending to the bizarre flock. Anything to make the chore more of a fun activity and less of, well, a chore, when Remus really doesn’t suit stressed-out frowns as well as manic grins.

Virgil has a terrible habit of not asking for reassurance when he needs it. Janus regrets the part he played in making it that way. So, no matter how small and stupid Virgil may think it is, whenever he asks for help, Janus gives it. A tug on his cloak or a soft please will have him do anything from turn the light in the hallway on to checking the poor thing over for wounds after a brutal nightmare. It took long enough for Janus to re-earn that trust, he’s not going to lose it if he can damn well help it.

Out of everyone in the Mindscape, only Roman truly appreciates his love of theater. Sure, the others are game to help out here and there, but when it comes to the art of make-believe, Roman is the proud owner of Janus’s ‘yes-and’ partnership. The two of them make all sorts of stories together, from villains and heroes to morally grey adventurers, to simple fairytales and old plays. Roman needs someone else to help him play the roles and Janus is more than happy to play with him.

Perhaps one day, he might be able to reveal that everything he does for them, he does because it’s them, but for now, he’ll happily play the role they expect of him.

***

5. Gifts

Roman and Remus do not, in fact, fight over who gets to give the most presents to the other Sides.

Instead, they fight over whose idea they work on first.

For Logan, Remus’s self-writing pen narrowly won out over Roman’s proposal for a never-ending notebook, if only because said pen squirted ink into Roman’s mouth before he could finish his argument. They ended up giving both to Logan at the same time, but the pen was decidedly on top and did its own little celebratory wriggle when Logan used it for the first time.

Remus nearly challenged Roman to a formal duel when it came to designing a heat lamp for Janus that wouldn’t run the same risk of burning out the electricity in their section of the Mindscape. They managed to agree on everything up to the design on the lampshade. Roman said it should be a yellow snake, curled up and sleeping, and Remus wanted it to be a big leaf that Janus could lay under like he was actually outside. The compromise was eventually reached over many hours of almost bloodshed and now the sleeping snake under a leaf is a staple in the corner of Janus’s room.

Roman cleverly proposed Virgil’s weighted blanket while Remus was being crushed under said blanket, leaving not a lot of wiggle room until he had to agree. Of course, he promptly fell asleep and cuddled Roman into a pile of goo, so technically they made both the blanket and the plushie at around the same time. Virgil still brings the little skeleton to movie nights.

Patton gets their presents one after the other, because you need one to understand the other’s context. A rebreather designed to slip on over the person’s face just like any other face mask, to filter out particulates and allergens. Something that could be worn for up to two consecutive hours before it needed to be recharged.

The other present was a box full of kittens.

”Ro?”

“Yeah?”

Remus pushes his goggles to the top of his head and looks over the desk. “Do you think they’ll ever get it?”

Roman sighs, closing his notebook and leaning back to stretch. “I don’t know, Re. I love them, really, they just…”

”Don’t realize.”

“Yeah. It’s okay, though. We’ll get there eventually.”

“Of course we will. Hand me that wrench, would you?”

“The one that’s covered in guts, or the one that’s made out of foam?”

“The foam one. I need to whack this thing but I don’t wanna hit it too hard.”

“I’m not gonna ask any more questions.”

***

+1: I Love You

”Hey!” Patton rises up first, clapping his hands. “Oh. I’m the only one here.”

“Only by a moment,” Logan says as he joins him. “Is Thomas here?”

“No, I just got summoned by—well, I thought it was Thomas but he’s not here.”

“Whoa, hey!” Virgil appears on the staircase. “What’s going on? I was in the middle of watching someone.”

“Don’t you mean ‘something?’” Remus appears, covered in slime and cackling. “Ah. I see.”

“I’ve got it,” Roman says, rising up and spraying his brother with something that somehow manages to dissolve all the goo without staining or spraying anything else. “There. Now maybe you’ll think twice about surprising Uma when she’s feeding?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do this so many more times!”

”I felt the exasperation from my room,” Janus sighs, appearing, “what’s Remus done now?”

“Why did you assume it was Remus?” Janus just looks at Logan. “Fair enough.”

”Now that we’re all here, what is this about?” He looks around, frowning. “Where’s Thomas?”

“That’s weird, is he not the one who called for a meeting?”

“What’s that?” Virgil reaches out and picks up a piece of paper from the coffee table. “‘Each one of you needs a card, find the matches.’ What cards?”

“Here.” Logan picks up something that fell when Virgil picked up the paper. “There are only five of them, though, and six of us.”

“What do they say?”

“Let me see…one says ‘Physical Touch,’ one says ‘Acts of Service,’ one says…oh, I see.”

“I don’t,” Patton says, “can you share with the class?”

“Wait, wait, I think I know what this is, is one of them ‘Quality Company’ or something?”

“‘Quality Time,’ yes.”

Roman nods. “It’s the Five Love Languages.”

“Thomas doesn’t even speak Spanish!”

“No, no, Padre, not literal languages, it’s…it’s the ways you express your affection for someone. How you tell them you love them. There’s five: physical touch, acts of service, quality time…”

“‘Words of Affirmation,’” Logan continues, reading off the other cards, “and ‘Gifts.’”

Virgil hunches his shoulders. “So what, are we supposed to pick one?”

“I believe the intention of the exercise is to…select which one is our love language.”

Janus huffs. “Why? What does Thomas have to gain from doing something like this? And where is he?”

“Maybe he’s not the one who summoned us.”

“Well then who did?”

“Maybe if we do the thing we can find out.”

Janus sighs, peering over Logan’s shoulder and squinting. “I guess this one’s mine, then.”

“‘Acts of Service?’ Very well. I suppose I’ll take ‘Words of Affirmation.’”

“Can I have the touch one?”

“Certainly.”

“Twins get ‘Gifts,’ obviously,” Virgil mutters, “which means I get the…time one, or whatever.”

Logan hands out the last two cards and they stand there for a moment, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing does.

Patton looks back down at his card. “Wait, did you say these are how we tell people we love them?”

“That is a simple definition of this, why?”

“Because you guys do these with everyone!”

There’s a pause. Logan adjusts his glasses. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but…yes, I do indeed give you all words of affirmation, because, well…”

“Aww,” Virgil says, “do you love us, Logan?”

Logan coughs, blushes, and adjusts his tie. “I believe that is a logical conclusion, yes.”

“Aww!” Patton squeals. “I love you guys too!”

”So whoever set this up knew that we were all trying to tell each other that—“ Roman starts.

“—and needed to hammer it into our heads what was happening,” Remus finishes.

“Well,” Janus sniffs, even as a smile threatens the corners of his mouth, “how dramatic.”

Virgil tugs on the strings of his hoodie. “Yeah. How dramatic.”

There’s another pause.

Roman coughs. “Uh, this seems like a good a time as any, um…Remus and I put together a festival thing in the Imagination for everyone, if you want to…if you want to come and see it.”

“It has everyone’s favorite state fair stuff,” Remus sands, “and there’s supposed to be a northern-lights kind of thing after it gets dark.”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course.”

“Will there be food?”

“Your favorite, shadow-ling.”

“You two are so thoughtful,” Logan says softly, “I would love to come.”

“I can get the good blankets from the closet,” Janus offers, and everyone grins, “should we meet there in ten?”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

The Imagination is just happy they finally sorted it out. Now, to give the six of them a group date they’ll never forget…

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Action

So, this is a interesting one to talk about. Not only is this the first episode in all five seasons to not be written or directed by Thomas Astruc in any capacity (though the other three writers on his team, Melanie Duval, Fred Lenoir, and Sebastien Thibaudeau still wrote this one), not only is it not connected to the ongoing plotlines of Season 5 in any way, but this episode was made with the help of the Breteau Foundation.

For those who don't know, the Breteau Foundation is an organization that works together with schools by giving children access to technology for their lessons, helping them with their psychological needs, and teaching them about ways to protect our environment. This episode was even made available on the Breteau Foundation's website for free in addition to educational materials meant to teach kids about recycling.

Yeah, when we were kids, we got excited whenever the teacher played an old episode of The Magic School Bus or Bill Nye the Science Guy in class, but nowadays, TV shows are producing episodes of their shows specifically so they can be shown in class. And I'm not talking about those half-assed science lab worksheets with pictures of SpongeBob on them either.

The point I'm trying to make is that there was clearly a lot put into this episode, and it's all for a good cause to help teach children about how to protect the environment in order to ensure a better future... and of course, I'm still going to make jokes about it, because I'm just some schmuck on the internet who isn't backed by a major educational foundation.

Let's get into the 27th episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Action

We start off with Marinette and Adrien heading over to the Liberty so they could be told about the pollution in the Seine River by their class' resident environmental activist, Myl—Nino, I mean, Nino. No joke, Nino gets more lines in this episode than Mylene does, even though ever since Season 2, Mylene has been established as the one to protest polluting the environment. I get that she already had a lot of screentime in an earlier environmental episode (Mega Leech), but why would you have Nino be the one to help spearhead this protest instead of Mylene? Hell, the plot of another episode started from him trying to get him and his friends out of helping Mylene plant trees for the environment (Party Crasher), so this makes even less sense.

I should also get this out of the way by pointing out a few continuity errors in the episode. For one thing, Marinette is stuttering around Adrien when she had mostly gotten over that issue after “Derision”, Kagami is now one of the avatars for the Alliance rings, something that had been established in “Revelation”, and the episode mentions that the Alliance rings are made of plastic when the season finale shows that they're actually made of metal. I don't want to harp on this too much, as this episode obviously wasn't meant to really tie into the main plotline so it would be easier for kids who aren't familiar with the show watching this episode, seeing how this was meant to be viewed as a standalone story. Besides, compared to other plotholes in the show like the ones I'll cover next time, these are fairly minor.

Nino tells Marinette and Adrien, and by extension, the audience, that the Seine River is full of pollution, and the Liberty has recently been converted into a makeshift water treatment plant. The problem is that with a recent increase of plastic in the Seine, it's becoming harder for the Liberty to filter out all of it. Hey, here's an idea: Maybe don't set up your homemade water treatment plant in the longest river in Paris.

The reason for all the new plastic comes from a recent ad campaign promoting some vending machines that sell these paper fans that were designed by Gabriel and are sold by a man named Bertrand King, who looks like a cross between Willy Wonka and Colonel Sanders, down to having a southern accent in the English dub.

Nino suggests that Adrien talk to Gabriel himself, but as usual, Adrien doesn't think he'll listen, so the kids decide to go to Bertrand King's company while picking up an order for plastic containers for the Dupain-Chang bakery... even though I'm pretty sure most bakeries store pastries in paper instead of just plastic.

Nino has the others dress up in disguises, but like most of his plans this season, it fails miserably, so Marinette comes up with a little story about Adrien meeting up with Bertrand. The kids make an impassioned presentation to Bertrand, asking him to help change the way he operated his business like making his fans out of more biodegradable materials. Surprisingly, the man whose entire livelihood revolves around selling plastic doesn't want to listen to the people saying everything his company is doing is wrong.

Bertrand: This is all intentional. It's the wonderful cycle of throwing away and buying again that makes my fortune. If people didn't throw away and buy new items again then I, Bertrand King, would no longer be the King of Plastic! So, there is no way any of this is changing.

Wow, a rich person in Miraculous Ladybug turning out to be a total jerk? What an unexpected turn of events.

Bertrand points out how much plastic is used in everyday society, using pens and the Alliance rings as an example, and seeing how we cut to the next scene afterwards, we can assume he had them thrown out. Oh, come on, you couldn't even parody The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air like you did during “Migration”? The kids then try to go to Andre and Gabriel for help protesting the fans, but because one's a corrupt politician and another helped make them, they won't do a thing. Marinette tries to ask Nadja, the local news anchor, but because the ad revenue from Bertrand's company funds the channel she works for, she can't do a thing or else she'll be out of a job.

This leads to the kids deciding to do the sane thing and HACK THE NEWS BROADCAST SO THEY CAN MAKE A SPEECH ABOUT POLLUTION.

Because it's not like Marinette and the others could have just gone to another news network with this story or uploaded it to the internet instead, right? And sure, scowl at the camera while you're giving this presentation too. That won't make you look like a bunch of eco-terrorists at all. The kids give a presentation about how dangerous plastic is, and how people can use fans made of more biodegradable materials like bamboo instead. Also, we get cameos from Jess, Aeon, and Fei, but they're pretty much there just to remind viewers that the New York and Shanghai specials happened.

Of course, the episode's following RWBY Volume 8 logic, so rather than view them as a bunch of lunatics who hijacked a news broadcast, the public immediately turns on Bertrand's company, arguably faster than what happened with Andre in “Mega Leech”. Speaking of, Andre and Gabriel change their opinions to make themselves look like they were always against Bertrand, and seeing how this episode aired after Season 5 ended, didn't really sit too well with viewers.

Bertrand calls out Gabriel for lying, but Gabriel doesn't care, secretly using this as an opportunity to akumatize Bertrand into King of Plastic through his pen.

King of Plastic has a pretty underwhelming design. It's clear that the intent was to make him look like plastic, and there is a noticeable reflection on his body, but other than that, it doesn't really fit the anti-plastic moral. I think maybe if they did more to make his movements seem more stiff like a living doll, or at least make him look less like he's made of candy, it could work more. The Miraculous power this time is the Bee Miraculous' Venom, which he can use through one side of his lance to stun any victims so he can use the other side to turn them into plastic statues. It's sort of like the dollmaker episode of Arrow, only we don't get to hear the sound of anyone's esophagus hardening.

King of Plastic makes short work of Andre and the local police squad, and Adrien is forced to put teaching Marinette Mandarin on hold so he can transform into Cat Noir, while Marinette transforms into Ladybug as soon as she's alone. After he transforms Adrien's bodyguard into a plastic statue, King of Plastic fights Ladybug and Cat Noir, eventually transforming Cat Noir's staff into plastic too. Even though he was originally akumatized to get revenge on Gabriel, King of Plastic leaves the Agreste Manor and heads to the Liberty to get revenge on Marinette and Adrien's friends instead... for some reason. Even the episode points out how weird this is.

Cat Noir: Didn't you want to take revenge on Gabriel Agreste?

Ladybug: He probably has more than one enemy.

After following King of Plastic there with Cat Noir, Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, getting a plastic bag. Because it's already made of plastic, it can't be transformed, which gives Ladybug an idea. She tells Alya to activate the Liberty's water treatment function, intentionally overloading it before Cat Noir Cataclysms the engine. This jettisons the collected plastic and overfills the deck of the Liberty, trapping King of Plastic so Ladybug can break his lance. So in an episode meant to teach kids about how dangerous plastic is, the day was ultimately saved by plastic. I'm sure that won't confuse any kids watching this in class.

Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, tells Bertrand about how dangerous plastic is, and he immediately vows to change his company's ways before Ladybug gives him a Magical Charm as useless as a plastic toy before she uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage.

The episode ends with Bertrand funding the repair of the Liberty before vowing to change the way his company operates, as do Tom and Sabine, who now sell their products in eco-friendly containers. Unfortunately, with all the renovations being made to his company that come with moving away from plastic, Bertrand had to stop funding this groundbreaking cancer research institution in America in order to prevent his company from going bankrupt.

Anyway, this episode was pretty good. I honestly didn't have a lot of problems here. The plot was pretty straightforward, the themes of how easy it is to perpetuate companies that damage the environment were handled pretty well, and the main characters were pretty active.

Even the greedy corporate asshole meant to be a stand-in for real life executives was handled pretty well, having some quirks that make him stand out while showing how ignorant he is to the situation without making him completely insufferable. This episode could have easily gone the Captain Planet route with Bertrand, but they showed he wasn't intentionally endangering the environment because he felt like it, but rather, because he cared more about his company making money, even showing him ultimately realizing the error of his ways.

If there's one problem I had, it's with the way the Akuma fight was resolved. I get that any other Lucky Charm wouldn't have been immune to King of Plastic's plastic powers, but I feel like weaponizing the plastic the heroes spent most of the episode fighting against in order to stop the Akuma sort of muddles the message the episode is going for. It's not the worst way to resolve an Akuma fight, but it just bugs me personally.

While I still think “Mega Leech” did a better job with the environmental message, overall, this episode did a pretty good job teaching the moral it set out to teach.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... ANDRE (THE OTHER ONE)

Shockingly, nobody really acted that stupid this episode. Yeah, the kids were pretty naive thinking they could make Bertrand change his company's way of production, but still took action when that didn't work. Andre, on the other hand...

While Gabriel and Nadja had their own reasons to support Bertrand (Gabriel for Monarch reasons and Nadja for financial reasons), the only reason Andre went along with the fans polluting the environment was because they happened to have his image as one of the designs, and when the public started to turn on Bertrand, Andre acted like he always opposed him, and when confronted with an akumatized Bertrand, begged for his life like a coward and said he would reinstall the fan vending machines. While I guess it's better than having Chloe be the primary supporter of Bertrand's company, I need to reiterate that this aired after the last few episodes of Season 5 tried to place Andre in a more sympathetic light.

[maopll]

Could I request something like this https://www.tumblr.com/maopll/712602219674058752/hello-hello-may-i-request-zhongli-kaeya-ayato?source=share

but with Kaveh, Itto, Childe, and Thoma?

My muse | genshin edition !

#pt.1 here || pt.2 !

⌗:, where you draw your lover in a sketchbook only for him to soon find out the peculiar way you show your love and adoration for him ♡

⌗:, a/n: what if I draw them in jojo poses ?...

⌗:, warning: there are gingers and blondes and bullchucker. there's mention of blood in childe's part.

⌗:, pairings: kaveh, itto, childe & thoma w/ gn!reader

KAVEH —

It was a warm Sunday evening. The afternoon glow of the sun illuminated the room. You and your lover, Kaveh, are basking in the quiet comfort of eachother. On the sofa, you sat crossing your feet and sketching countless pictures of what or of who. Your lover sat on the other side, making minute and very careful details of splendid architectural designs. You noticed the way his face would scrunch up when he would make those little designs on the railing or even on the roof. The way he would do a soft 'yes!' When he got something right on his first try. You recorded down every single detail on the small sketchbook of yours. When you would feel his gaze upon you, you would be quick while closing the book lest he sees what you made.

However, on his birthday you decided to gift him the sketchbook. He was dumbfounded and asked why you would give him something you were using. Until he flipped the pages and marvelled at the beautiful drawings you made of him. for him. It was simple yet so meaningful to him. His eyes filled with tears with how pure and sweet your love for him was. You were his everything, a beacon of light in his world.

ITTO —

Having you as his s/o was like winning the lottery. There wasn't a single moment that he didn't enjoy when he was with you. Whenever he would be playing onikabuto fights with the kids in hanamizaka, you would shelter yourself under a tree and sketch away the little doodle of your lover. Capturing each and every little detail of his face. The way he would scrunch up his nose when he would be thinking of his next move or the utter look of shock on his face when he would lose for the nth time...

Nevertheless, you find this hobby to be quite comforting. The sun was already starting to set, and the kids had returned home. Your lover hadn't won a single round, but he doesn't care much about it. As soon as they were gone, he went up to you screaming, "Hey babe!" only to find that you have fallen asleep. It's alright he's strong enough to carry his lover on his back, but he was in for a little surprise. When he picked you up in his arms, he saw the sketches, doodles of his and his...abs? although he has minimum knowledge about art and anatomy, he was still surprised seeing someone looking very similar to him and his name on YOUR notebooks. Ofcourse your one and only oni should be the one to grace the pages of your sketchbook! and also to grace your soft lips!

CHILDE —

Bloodshed, Bloodlust, Bloodthirst. That's all he knew all his life. He barely found respite, but with your coming into his life, things started to get a lot better, and he found happiness with you.

Your lover, childe, has gone out once again to take care of some "business." Apparently, he has loads of things to take care of, so today was another one of those sleepless and quite cold nights in Snezhnaya where you yearn for your lovers warmth but unfortunately he cannot be there. The candle was lit by your bedside table. You used the faint glow it provided to draw on your sketchbook. After all, you needed something to help you sleep, and this was the best thing you could do now. It was 3 p.m. now. Childe entered through the front door into your shared home. He tiptoed softly and carefully to not wake you up since it was an odd time to be awake. He stepped foot into your room and smiled, seeing you fast asleep. It was quite cold, and your blanket wasn't on top of you. While pulling the covers over you, he saw him drawn on your sketchbook. He looked at the drawings and he felt butterflies in his stomach. A faint shade of pink was dusting his face and a small smile graced his lips. "ajax?...you're home?" you spoke in a drowsy tone. He smiled and said "I'm home" while removing the sketchbook from you and setting it aside. Although the room was quite dark, you swear you saw a faint glimmer in his eyes...

THOMA —

He runs back and forth around the house from morning to evening. As expected, he grows tired by the end of the day, even if he tries napping during his breaks. You, however, seize this opportunity to admire his angelic features more closely since he is static in one place. At least for some time...

The Kamisato Estate was obviously busy with him conducting some classes about housework and dealing with the housework of the estate. Finally it was four o'clock in the afternoon and he had finally got his much needed rest. While he dozed off on your lap, taking in the comfortable warmth, you were busy sketching away on your sketchbook. His eyes, his sleepy face, his ruffled hair, his parted lips. Not a single detail would you miss. When his rest was finally over, he got up, but you had fallen asleep. It's understandable since you also work around the house with him a lot. When he tried getting up, the book fell from your hand. Whilst trying to pick up the book, he saw his sketches on your book. He was amazed and embarrassed since he was drawn so intricately on such a small piece of paper. A soft hue of pink bloomed across his face. He turned his body towards you and gently caressed your face. He kissed your temple and whispered "sleep well dear.."

[fangirltothefullest]

Can I ask a question? I like your sanders sides a lot and you give them a lot of personality in their designs! How do you make them like that? Or I guess I mean, what inspires you to make them the way that you do? I want to draw the sides but I'm not sure how to start other than their canon designs!

Oh my goodness I LOVE this question! For me, it's all about the feelings you get when you see them and the vibes I want to express. The Sides embody, to me, more than an aesthetic it should also encompass personality, role, and intention. In other words, I match their aesthetics to their function and the intent of what I feel like Thomas originally intended for them for their first short videos before they were actual sides.

Let us pick Roman, because even though people say he's not, he tends to be everyone's favourite to reblog fro me because he's pretty.

So I started by drawing him exactly as he was and to me he felt flat- in the show he's exactly as he should be but I am an artist and to me he feels more than what he looks like- it's dreamy, it's romantic, it's like he's giving childhood favouritre Disney Prince vibes, you know?

Inspiration 1: Prince Phillip

Hands down the biggest inspiration comes from him because he IS my favourite disney prince. Just looks a the hair swoop and the eyelashes- perfect. So I went ok my favourite Disney Prince is Phillip, let's start here. Before the CGI movies, there was such a romantic feeling about classic Disney princess movies and I've always loved the romantic feeling of Sleeping Beauty. The backgrounds are stunning, the way she's animated makes my bi ass give heart eyes and I loved that he was the only prince at the time who had a personality (until Beast but that's a whole other can of worms because he started out as an asshole/grumpy). I feel like modern Disney movies miss a lot of the romantic dreamy feeling of the older 2d movies because there was such care into the painted backgrounds being LESS realistic and more a fabulous idea of what a background should be and AHA! MORE INSPIRATION~! Let's make Roman a fabulous romantic idea of what a prince should be!

Inspiration 2: Faerietale Knights in Shining Armour

Our ideas of medieval knights are nothing like actual knights which are more reminiscent of hired military and enforcers. Our ideas of faerietale knights in shining armour are brave knights who would go off to kill a dragon to show their devotion to the one they love. Sword fighting heroes- is that not Roman if not an idealized romantic "royal knight wants to win the heart of the love with courageous deeds, acts of chivalry, selfless devotion" etc. Prince Phillip is a good model of this. Defeats a dragon and true love's kiss saves the day. A perfect romantic dream isn't it? Realistic? No of course not, but Roman isn't realistic he's creativity and romance which absolutely ignores practicality for the dream.

So we have this culmination of dreamy romantic disney prince and faerietale influence.

Now it's about aesthetics- Roman is reds and golds and whites, all royal colours typically associated with bravery, lineage, and strength and purity etc.

Inspiration 3: Media referencing

So let's find some movie or media equivalence I can reference. They came mostly in the forms of Narnia and Once Upon a Time.

So some aesthetic inspirations for belts and textures, missing the epaulets.... so to military garb!

Inspiration 4: Russian royals

Let's face it no one does embellishments like this any more <3

Inspiration 5: Lions

Roman's colours being red gold and white give me lion inspiration too so I looked up royal lion iconography as well (which ended up with a lot of lion king in the search because this was before AI but like.... it's not incorrect and the wavy flowy mane acted like hair. If Hamlet with lions is inspiring then use it, right? that have some AMAZING lion king-style artists on deviantart to get inspired by, it's a whole thing, mad respect) But ANYWAYS it gave me some cool stuff to be inspired by too.

Inspiration 6: Classic Golden Age Hollysood Leading Ladies (Note that this isn't femme fatales, because for Janus I used femme fatales as inspiration)

I knew that I just HAD to give Roman that Marilyn Monroe beauty mark, yes he paints it on every day yes it's in the same spot every day yes it's necessary.

Ultimately this culminated in a checklist of things that I wanted for him:

He must give the feeling of Prince Phillip in disney prince style

I wanted him to have flowey hair that makes him look softer and romantic and can be pulled up into a ponytail if necessary.

Must have a beauty mark and eyelashes that go on for ages reminiscent of old hollywood ladies, and let's throw in nail polish too.

I wanted him to have an outfit that would be his original but embellished to hell that can be like Narnia or OUaT in terms of texture and added stuff. It needed more gold, 100% needed epaulets (the shoulder things with the dangly rstuff), and it needed a belt where a sword could be attached. Danglies not always necessary, but look really good when done and is reminiscent of old fashioned military garb and Russian royalty.

He needed to look like he's used to wearing this outfit every single day and going out of his way to do so.

Ended up with this:

So yeah that's how I got to his design!

[loverhymeswith]

god you’re writing is angelic i just neeeeeed a cowboy like me inspired tommy shelby fic!!!

Forever is the Sweetest Con

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Summary: Written for the Taylor Swift Tapes: Tommy Shelby - based on Cowboy Like Me

Word Count: 815

Warnings: Smoking, drinking, implied smut

A/N: Thank you to both Anons who requested Cowboy Like Me. I hope you enjoy!

From across the moonlit courtyard, you spot him. The man of the moment; the name on everybody's lips. He's not particularly tall, but he cuts an imposing figure in his finely-made suit, a glass of amber liquor clutched firmly in his large hand.

He's standing at the edge of the gazebo. A crowd of men and women are gathered at his side, vying for his undivided attention as he raises the glass to his mouth, but as his piercing blue eyes finally meet your gaze, it's evident that his much sought-after attention will remain elsewhere for the remainder of the evening.

Silently, you count to ten.

Right on cue, he stalks towards you, a deadly predator sizing up his prey, oblivious or at least indifferent to the host of unfulfilled ladies and gentlemen he leaves in his wake.

The corner of his lips twitch up when he reaches you, those startling blue eyes lazily travelling along the full length of your expensive dress. Even before he speaks, he's straight to the point.

"Would you like to dance?"

You regard him for a long moment, listening to the notes of the gentle waltz spilling out into the summer night. For most of the evening, the band has favoured uptempo music - fashionable, but not particularly romantic - until now.

Apparently, your new companion has been biding his time.

After taking a drag of your cigarette, you offer him your response. "Dancing is a dangerous game, Mr Shelby. Especially with a man like you."

As he raises a dark brow, his eyes sparkle in the moonlight like a cerulean sky full of stars. "You've heard of me?"

"Everyone has heard of you," you assure him bluntly.

"You don't sound impressed."

"Should I be?"

His lips pull up into the hint of an amused grin as he places a cigarette between them.

You reach into your velvet purse and offer him a light, startled to find yourself quite so enraptured as he rolls the cigarette across his full bottom lip.

Softly, he exhales a cloud of white smoke into the dark night. "So it’s a 'no' to the dance then, eh?"

Resting your own cigarette between your painted fingers, you narrow your gaze. Perhaps you will be dancing tonight, after all. "It depends what you're willing to offer in return."

Thomas Shelby considers this with no sign of surprise, eventually inclining his head. "Oh, I'm well aware of what tricks you have up your sleeve."

Although it pains you to admit it, his admission catches you off-guard. Until now, you've been so careful to conceal your tracks. That he can read you so easily is as intriguing as it is alarming.

Determined not to show weakness in the face of such a worthy adversary, you flash him a vicious smile, showing your teeth.

"Enlighten me, Mr Shelby. What do you think you know about me?"

He pauses, his expression entirely unreadable as he watches you, carefully deciding just how much to reveal. "Oh, I've seen you around, telling all those rich men anything they want to hear. Bet you make a pretty penny from nights like this."

There's no judgement in his tone, which almost makes it worse.

"Are you calling me a whore?"

"Of course not. You're far too clever for that. You sell them words instead of sex. You promise them love, but only if they pay for it."

Stubbing out your cigarette with the heel of your designer shoe - bought for by the very men he speaks of - you level him with a blank stare, no small effort given the way his presence seems to have your pulse unwillingly quickening.

"Then why are you here?" Almost as an afterthought, you add, "You're no different than me."

Because when it comes to hustlers, it takes one to know one. Thomas Shelby might not offer the illusion of love in exchange for money, but instead, he offers power and influence. Just as deadly as love, but far more desirable.

Divesting himself of his cigarette and whisky, Tommy takes a step closer. So close that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. A predator, indeed.

"No," he agrees. "I'm no different to you at all."

A breath catches in your throat before he leans in, stealing the swiftest of kisses.

Two hours later, his boots are beneath your bed. Tangled sheets cling to your sweat-slick bodies; clothes discarded in a heap on the floor.

Perched atop him, your soft thighs hugging his slim waist, you dip your head. "Whatever you think this is," you gesture between the two of you, "I'm not going to fall in love."

Tommy's pupils are wide as he stares up at you, mouth slightly parted and chest heaving. "Not love, then," he agrees, roughly. "But how about forever?"

You place a hand on his warm cheek. "Didn't they tell you, Thomas? Forever is the sweetest con."

Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @simpforbuckyb @crysxtal @shynovelist @amberpanda99 @globetrotter28 @iammrsrogers @dragonsondragons @butterfly-lover @sunshineyourethebesttime @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @breezy2and2freezy

[impactedfates]

“But Mr Kamisato…” - Ayato x GN!Reader (Modern AU)

A/N - Just a random ass thought I had with a Modern AU Ayato. According to my friend it’s a brain rot?? In any case have random scenarios I have about this AU before I go to bed >:D

Imagine working at a restaurant. Nothing fancy, just your regular restaurant with your usual annoying kids in the corner and Karen in another. Yet for some reason, one of your regulars is Mr Kamisato himself, quite the popular and rich individual that could easily eat at any fancy restaurant he wants yet he chooses the one YOU work at, simply because he seems to have fallen for the lil waiter there :>

Ayato can and will plop himself in your section even if the table is dirty, he just wants to see your pretty lil face as fast as he can.

Will always tip you, and by quite a bit. He advises your boss/manager that whatever money he tips is ONLY for you. And should not be split between your co-workers, and who are they to disagree?

Despite him coming there so often, that he should know what every item on the menu is. He will always point to one menu item and ask about it or even asks for your recommendations even if you always say the same things. He just wants to hear your voice.

When he first brought his sister and Thoma over, they stared at you intently. You tried introducing yourself and all they could say was a strained out "We know…" Seems like someone always talks about you at home.

He refuses to get served by anyone else but you. If someone else is his waiter, he’ll request for you, and if you’re not working that day? He’ll politely excuse himself and leave.

If we pretend he’s a CEO for a famous and successful company, imagine all the stares he’d get as he happily munched on his mediocre fish and chips.

Speaking of all the stares he gets, he doesn’t pay any attention to them. His eyes are only on you. And you alone.

Bro goes into the restaurant so many times (or as many times as his work allows it) that there’s just a designated table for him and co-workers and your manager just know to call for you when he arrives, knowing he won’t take anyone else.

Left his number on a napkin. Whether you decide to text him is up to you. If you don’t he understands, but if you do choose to text him he’ll be over joyed. Expect sweet and cute “Good Mornings” and “Good Nights” even if you two aren’t dating.

He tries to make you call him Ayato and not to be formal with him. But it’s just a habit! Plus it’s respectful, how can he expect you to casually call him by his given name so casually??

Y/N: Mr Kamisato? You're here again? Ayato: Hm? Just Ayato is fine Y/N: But Mr Kami- Ayato: No

Ayaka and Thoma are very much done with him and his constant rambles about you. Don’t get them wrong, they’re happy he found someone he really likes…it’s just…

Ayato: And then they gave me my order with a smile :D Thoma: My lord…that's their job

Ayaka: So how much did you tip them? Ayato: €500 Ayaka: ON A €12 MEAL??

================ IWHEJSUD I’m still in love with this AU. Maybe it’s partially because I’m a big Ayato simp…I didn’t write a meeting scenario, y’all can let your imaginations run wild with that 👀

If youse like this I’m more then happy to write more :D

[gothamnewsnetwork-official]

The Social Event of the Season - the Wayne Enterprises Summer Gala

As summer comes to an end Gothamites often dread the upcoming season. School, heist season (see related articles), and Scarecrow’s annual Halloween gas attacks (see related articles) all being cited as reasons to hate the fall season.

That being said, the last few days of August leave us with a parting gift; the Wayne Enterprises Summer Gala (see related articles).

Long heralded as the ‘social event of the season’ by Gotham City’s (see related articles) upper echelons (see related articles), the Wayne Summer Gala is sure to stir up many a rumour.

Since its founding as a charity event, it has evolved into a yearly rager, though it maintains its charity ties; all profits from the gala (aside from staff wages) being donated to charities across our beloved city, the Thomas and Martha Wayne Foundation (see related articles) being one of the most recognizable examples.

Though it is invite-only, many Gothamites tune in to the red-carpet streams of many Gotham news outlets to get a glimpse of who will be attending and what scandals may unfold (see related articles).

Because of this, we have sent an intern to interview the host of the gala himself, Bruce Wayne (see related articles) ( @officialbruciewayne ), for further details on what we should expect. This is what he had to say on the matter -

“ Q: [to Mr. Wayne] What’s your goal with the upcoming gala? ”

“ A: Well obviously we're hoping to raise as much money as possible for charity.

I'd also like to use it the gala as a chance to network for the foundations, but nobody ever likes to talk shop at these things. Least of all me!

I plan to make off with every last mozzarella stick, get absolutely spannered and when I fall into the fountain this year, I'm going to take most of my clothes off and dance. ”

“ Q: And what about your newest adoptee, Duke Thomas? This is his first gala, correct? ”

“ A: I believe it's his first Late Summer Gala. He's attended- or almost attended -some other events. ”

“ Q: Are there any particular designers you or your family will be wearing for the gala? ”

“ A: Helena [ Helena Wayne (see related articles) ( @thebestofwaynes ), daughter of Bruce Wayne] has a new Balenciaga that suits her wonderfully. I plan to make a splash with some Tom Ford boxer-briefs.

I believe most of my wardrobe will be from a new menswear designer- though I'd prefer not to spoil their work ahead of time.

My tie was made for me by my daughter though. It was a birthday present. ”

“ Q: And what about press at the gala? ”

“ A: We have some independent reporters who are attending as guests- yourself included, I think, Clark Kent (see related posts) ( @official-clark-kent ) from The Daily Planet and Dottie McVeigh (see related articles) ( @dottie-mcveigh ), our standard press contingent, of course.

I’m sure Vicki [ Vicki Vale (see related articles), reporter for the Gotham Gazette] will be there, she might even entertain me. ”

“ Q: Are there any surprise charities or adoption announcements that we should expect? ”

“ A: I'm sure we'll find out at the same time - they don't tell me anything haha. ”

With that the interview concluded, and while we may not know the full details of this gala, this journal is sure it will not be one to forget.. We’ll be keeping you all updated on the latest developments of the event, so to all Gothamites, we recommend you stay tuned.

Let us know your thoughts on the topic (here)

Gotham Reports is certified in unbiased, fair, and reliable journalism

-

* Due to circumstances outside of this journal’s control, we will be reducing the frequency of our longer articles and updates may become more sporadic for an unknown amount of time *

[jamneuromain]

Wild Child Chapter. 3

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

Ari had to excuse himself to take a phone call after your brief conversation, after he instructed Lana to do as she was told.

When you were sure that he had stepped out to take his call, you stopped Lana from introducing the different shapes and makes of your wedding dress, and smiled sweetly, “My phone battery died. Do you mind if I make an urgent call first?”

Lana nodded and took you to the tiny office in the corner, showing you a landline.

You had to thank this guy, Guy Thomas later.

Or you wouldn’t even go near a phone within three feet.

Telling Lana that you wanted a design with a bit of fluffiness with the flare, you sent her to find something similar in the shop while you made this call in private.

The call was picked up on the other side.

“Caroline Hastings’ office, how may I help you?” A receptionist spoke.

“Patch me over to Caroline.” Your fingers clenched on the edge of the table, before they relaxed, careful not to scratch a trail onto the surface, “Tell her it’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N! I didn’t know you were back!” Caroline was patched through fairly quickly, “What do you need?”

Hearing Caroline’s voice, you let out an exhale in silence, finally able to breathe properly. Your gaze zeroed on the nametag on the table “Lana Priester”, and her scattered manuscripts. On those were some most beautiful wedding dresses you had ever laid eyes on, even if they were on paper instead of mannequins. If it weren’t for your obnoxious father and his ridiculous requests, you knew, from these manuscripts only, that she would design the dress you wanted.

“Grab a pen and paper.” You instructed Caroline. “Here’s what I need.”

You were back on the couch when Ari returned, sipping on your fourth glass of champagne and discussing with Lana whether your veil could be sparkling but less heavy.

You were patiently listening to the different fabrics that Lana was introducing to you, comparing the fabric examples in your hand, and asking questions about the features of two pieces that looked similar to you.

“It might be difficult to compare with only one layer in your hand,” Lana collected the book of different fabric examples and placed one over a sheet of white, “but the visual outcome will be much more obvious if the dress is made and we’d have this one on top of four or five layers, since you’d like your dress to be fluffy. We’d be considering at least four layers underneath it – Now the other piece is a bit greyer.” She took the other example on top of the white fabric, “Some of our customers prefer the light-grey-misty look on the dress. And through contrast, it would be shinier than the whiter one I’ve shown you.”

“I think I’ll have the whiter one.” After careful consideration, you picked the first fabric, observing it under the light, “And with these changes, you can have the dress ready in four weeks, right?”

“Yes.” Lana had a gleam of determination in her eyes, “We’d also have time to do another dress fitting, right before the wedding.”

“Excellent. I’ll leave you to it.”

Lana dismissed herself, hugging the pile of fabric examples and her manuscripts back to her office, as Ari approached you.

“How did the dress design go?” He took his seat on the couch, pouring himself a glass of champagne.

“It was wonderful.” You sighed almost dreamily, “Just the way I wanted it.”

Ari grinned not-so-subtly. For that smile on your face, he would do anything in his power to make you happy. Ari understood how you were unwilling to marry him, but he also understood your frustration of not having a choice. He didn’t volunteer to be a prince either, but he appreciated your adaptation to your new role as the future queen of this country.

He was glad he could see you in a different way, other than only judging you based on what had happened on the plane. (Plus the fact that he could command the bridal shop owner to call him Mr. Thomas or Guy instead of Your Highness.) He also wanted to retract the comment he had in mind, about you being a handful for him to deal with. You might be sassy, sure. However, considering that you had accepted your fate, showing up nicely to prepare for the upcoming wedding? You were less of a trouble than he thought you would be.

“Speaking of,” Ari stretched his long legs lazily, with a charming smile for good measures, “I’ve given you my card on the plane, as I recall.” He faked his annoyance, “You never called.”

You chuckled, glancing briefly at the large clock behind him, “I would if I had a phone.”

Ari nearly choked on his spit, “What?” He scoffed at your answer, “You don’t have a phone?”

He seriously doubted that. Since everyone would be glued to their phones and messaging apps, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was an excuse that you use, trying to avoid him as much as possible.

“You already know my reluctance to this marriage.” You said this as if it was a daily part of your life, which it was, in fact. “That was a precaution of …” You nursed over your glass, “guaranteeing I wouldn’t contact any extraction team.”

“An extraction team?” Ari couldn’t figure out if he was ridiculed or shocked, “You don’t want to be married that bad?”

The high-pitched voice didn’t bother you, but you pursed your lips together, slightly regretting your decision to share, “The muscle men at the door were for surveillance, honey, not for my safety.”

Ari could not decide whether he was surprised by the fact that your phone was taken away from you, and some sort of imprisonment was ensured so that you wouldn’t run away, or the fact that when you said “extraction team”, you sounded so sincere that he couldn’t tell if you were joking.

You didn’t answer his question of whether you wanted to get married directly, but your attitude spoke for you.

You didn’t like this marriage. You didn’t want him.

On the one hand, Ari had his ego bruised like you just punched him with a boxing glove; on the other, Ari felt truly sorry for you, about his family dragging you into this royal mess that you didn’t want to be a part of. And that there was no way of getting out.

Technically, you could. If he asked to marry another girl from another noble family. But wedding invitations had been sent. Everything prepared had your name and his name on top of it. They had been planning this for over half a year now, and there was no turning back, not at this point.

If he actually did regret this deal, let aside the disappointment and punishments from the King and Queen of this country, your father would do anything in his power to sabotage Ari’s attempt at the throne’s succession, including using his influence to flare the entire Upper House against Ari.

He felt sad. And pathetic. For the fate of this whole country lied upon whether you would marry him, when he was doubtful that he could survive the Upper House without the marriage, when he read from your file that the only thing that connected you to the Upper House is your last name, while you had yet to participate any meetings in the Upper House, which consisted of only men who were old enough to have their one foot stepped into their casket and the other on a banana peel.

If you were in the Upper House, though, things would be different. He would break the marriage deal in the blink of an eye, in order to earn your support in the Upper House.

Too bad he was still a prince. Too bad he could not administer or initiate any law before he took the throne and became the King of Ballenia. Too bad he could not make changes to the status quo, not now, not with his power.

Being a man in his 30s, all Ari could mumble was, “I hope the King and Queen learn about this.”

You scoffed over the edge of your champagne glass, placing it on the coffee table with a sharp click, “And they’ll what? Let their pathetic son swoop in like I’m a damsel in distress?”

“You are a damsel in distress.” Not looking at you, he mumbled to himself, not intending to let you hear his comment.

You let out a short, amused laugh, patting him on his firm bicep, before standing up to take a closer look at the other wedding dresses in this place.

“Oh baby, I’m not a damsel in distress.” Your fingernails raked over the expensive diamonds and pearls on one of the beautiful dresses, clenching your teeth, you spoke as if a prayer. “I’m a woman in a dress. And trust me, I will have everything I want. Even if it means that I have to murder that wimp.”

Somehow, Ari didn’t feel that his head was about to go off, but rather, his dick.

You sounded like you were going to castrate him.

Okay, maybe also murdering him. He was just glad that you didn’t know he was “Ari Levinson”, or God knows what you were planning for him, or pull a knife out of nowhere.

He made the determination to keep this secret identity as long as he could.

Among the fear of his head and dick being in different places than on his body, his mind turned so quickly that he was hit with a realization, “You are laying your murder plan out in front of me? Am I still going to be alive after this conversation?”

Hearing your name being called at the door in a familiar voice, you grinned, shouting to the front door, “Over here, Caroline!”

Ari gulped. This was probably the moment that he needed to regret his reckless decisions. That he shouldn’t marry a to-be-murderer. He should have known that your families were psychos and you were equally insane as everyone else.

His body was going to be found by his guards in a few hours, laying in a pool of blood, had his throat slit…��

“Relax.” You laughed, seeing Ari’s face had gone pale, “She’s my lawyer, not my partner in crime.”

Caroline hugged you and complimented you on how well you looked, but one frown from you shut her up about the upcoming wedding and started gathering files from her brown handbag.

“You are not going out of this shop until I am certain that you won’t spill a thing to anyone.” You sat down on the couch, “Caroline, NDA him.”

Ari knew too well what an NDA is.

It is a non-disclosure agreement, with the signed party swearing on almost everything that they own, that they will not leak a word to a single soul in this world.

“Really?!!” Ari assumed the paperwork was at least 20 pages, if not more. Leaning his head back, being able to see you, he scowled, “I offered you champagne and now you pay me back with this?”

“You said you didn’t care, when I told you I’d get you to sign an NDA.”

“Yeah well, I thought that was a joke!” Ari threw his hands up in frustration.

“Aww, don’t be such a baby. You know I would be hanged if our conversation gets out.” You pouted, almost sympathetically, but the smile on your face betrayed you, “Sorry, Guy, if you want the tea, it comes with the gag. But-” You dragged your voice, gesturing to Caroline to take out another file, “If you agree to sign the other file too, there’s some … perks that I can guarantee for your family business.”

Caroline picked up from where you left off, and started explaining to Ari, “If you choose to sign the second contract with Miss. Y/N, you will be her temporal boyfriend for the time being, and in return, Miss. Y/N would wear the jewellery that your business provides for the next two years over two dozen formal occasions.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Ari thought he had misheard you.

“Two years on twenty-five formal occasions.” Caroline rephrased her lines, “And that is only one of the perks of pretending to be Miss. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

“But why?” Ari looked at you, bewildered, “You were marrying … um, the prince. What do you need a fake boyfriend for?”

“You sure you want to know why?” You raised your eyebrows, “That’s gonna get you another NDA.”

He took all his comments back.

You were not a little trouble. No. No. NO!

You were a fucking huge trouble.

“And what if I don’t sign? Neither of them.” Ari challenged you, pushing you to the edge. He crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge more under that blue shirt, “What are you going to do about it, future Miss. Princess?”

You might fuck him for that slutty arm alone.

“I’d fuck you over.” You smiled, not ashamed of using dirty moves against him, not the slightest, “I’d told the royal family about how poorly you’ve done your service, and what a terrible shop owner you are.”

“What if I had connections?” Ari liked his chances, “What if I-”

“I can let you walk free if you sign the first one. I’d have something in exchange for the second one. Make your decision because my patience is short-lived.” You interrupted him. What was with this man and all his questions? You tapped your foot on the ground, bouncing it up and down, something your father forbade you to do over the years but you broke the rule whenever you can, “I like you, Mr. Thomas.” You said softly, “You seem smart. I like doing business with smart people. Now, smart people walk free when they can. Smarter people take their chances to gain more. Which one are you?”

“But I-” Ari was stalling to sign his name. It might not be as recognizable as in typing, but it was clear whether he would start with an “A” -

The corners of his eyes caught the name on the contract.

It wasn’t Ari Levinson.

The name put on the contract was “Guy Thomas”.

He introduced himself as “Guy Thomas”. Had the royal security forged a name and life experience of “Guy Thomas”, and if you presented this contract in front of him, that means you, in the limited time, did not have the time nor the patience to examine whether his fake identity was true – you must have assumed that it was solid and trustworthy, at least enough for you to bring the second contract. But the question remains – “If I sign this,” Ari signed the first NDA with ease and zero hesitation, pointing at the second one, “you have to tell me what it is for.”

“Simple.” You smirked, asking Caroline to check his signature, before replying with a devious smile, “They made me upset. I’m returning the favor.”

Vengeance towards your family and/or the royal family?

You were more than trouble; you were a fucking menace.

Ari took a sharp inhale as he lowered his head to sign his name on the second contract.

Fuck being a prince and all those rules. If this is the way you want to rebel against your family and the royal family, he’d be your knight in shiny armor, making sure that no harm comes your way.

His sane brain was preventing him from signing, as he was well aware that everyone else would know it was a joke, everyone apart from you. It would be devastating for you when you find out.

And yet, he wanted you to spend your last days before the wedding as a happy woman. You had such a horrible family that he wanted to help. He wanted to make you happy. Which reminded him that he had to call his future father-in-law, and get him on board with your plan, while you could not find out a single thing about Ari and his fake identity Guy … and demand him to return your phone and your freedom to you.

Was it pitying? Or was it that he knew you would find a fake boyfriend to piss off your family either way, and in the deepest darkest pit in the bottom of his heart, Ari wanted to be your boyfriend, and be by your side, even if it was a pretence?

Signing the name “Guy Thomas” on the line of the last page of the contract, Ari capped the black fountain pen and returned both objects to Caroline.

He gathered his thoughts as he ran a hand down his full-grown beard, his heart pumping a little faster than usual, probably because he was going undercover much deeper than he had thought he would, or because that making you happy makes him happy as well.

Or both.

The corner of his lips curled into a smile.

“I’m all yours.”

Taglist (also tagging those who might be interested: @irishhappiness @patzammit @identity2212 @lokislady82 @petalj @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @magnificentsaladllama @xx-rennyxx @cringeycookies @autumnrose40 @hawkeyes-queen @vonalyn @theliheat

Find the Wild Child Masterlist here 👈

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