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sunlightmurdock · 1 year ago

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Like This Forever | 0.1 | J. Seresin

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You’re thinking of the past, right as the future is about to change forever.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, childhood friends to lovers, country singer!Jake, smut, pining, blissful ignorance, other warnings to follow. wc: 3k (18+ minors do not interact)

A U G U S T 1 9 7 4 / F E B R U A R Y 1 9 9 1

Driftwood — small town southwestern Texas, situated in Lockheart County. Springs, stony hills, and steep canyons. It’s good land, occupying a tiny patch of earth in the middle of the Edwards Plateu. That’s what they all say: good land, good soil. Large acreages of wheat for miles around, grown annually for harvest and winter through spring livestock grazing. The remaining two-thirds of the region is rangeland devoted to cattle ranching. Ranches in this region often seem older than the landscape itself. Lockheart County’s livestock industry is nationally appreciated, it was, even back then. Ranches here are huge, they’ve been there for generations. The town of Driftwood, itself, sits in a valley. It holds on to the people who settle there just like it holds onto the weight of that thick, summer heat all through the day. So hot that even the trees bend and furl like they’re seeking shade too.

Back then, Driftwood was even smaller than it is now. Post Office, Church, two schools, a fleet of locally owned stores on Main Street and a few other buildings for the fathers who weren’t ranchers or ranch hands to work.

On that day in early August, most of Driftwood’s thousand person population were nestled amongst the pews of St. Augustine’s Church, just outside of town. It’s a mile and a half from Main Street, and a mile and a half from the furthest fence on the Seresin Ranch. Their house is a sprawling thing that Bill’s grandfather had built — they haven’t got that kind of money now, and they didn’t on that morning in August. They’ve got three boys, who were squirming around the front pew, melting into the aged wood below them in their smart white button ups. They’ve got another boy too, standing behind Pastor James, holding a processional candle.

Jake’s their youngest. He was nine back then. Small for his age, especially when you stood him next to his brothers and their broad shoulders and long legs. His hair was beyond blond, lightened from the sun. His cheeks dusted with brown freckles and his eyes always narrowed into a type of John Wayne kind of squint. Jake loved John Wayne back then. He loved the cowboys on his bed sheets, and the fact he could see the cattle from his bedroom window. All he wanted back then was a pistol on his hip and a one-way ticket to El Dorado.

Mary-Lynn Seresin grew up in Driftwood, just like her husband had. She had known Bill since she was a little girl, and she had always known that she would marry him one day. Her nails were polished pink that day, sitting pretty atop the procession card as she fans herself with it. Two pews behind, you could still see a droplet of sweat bead from her neat blonde hairline and trail into the collar of her blue polka-dotted Sunday dress.

On that particular Sunday, the fans had packed up and stopped working. So, all six hundred of you who could make it out to St. Augustine’s we’re trapped in there — not just with Pastor James’ storytelling, but with the thick heat pressing down on the entire valley feeling like it had all been shut in this one room with the rest of you.

At the front, Jake Seresin’s cheeks were red, his hair was beading with sweat and his scarecrow, twig-like arms were trembling around the cross. He struggled with its weight and you had watched his green eyes flash out towards the crowd, briefly landing on his mother. Mary-Lynn gave him a proud nod. Bill was staring at the stagnant ceiling fans above their heads. You, were staring right at Jake.

Eight years old yourself, just eight weeks younger than Jake is, you have known that little grass-stain your entire life. In fact, Mary-Lynn and your mother found out that they were expecting just days apart. They had been in the same high school grade as girls, had married men who were good friends, and back then your mother had worked in the town’s hair salon five days a week. They grew very close through their pregnancies. Your mother was the first one to send flowers when Mary-Lynn went into labour a month and a half early.

Jake’s John-Wayne-Squint deepened through the heavy air, watching you like you were both about to draw pistols and settle this like men — right in the middle of Pastor James’ final verse. Your pigtails and your white Sunday dress weren’t fooling him. His robes and the heavy cross in his hand weren’t fooling you. Clearly following his brother’s gaze, Daniel Seresin turns and peers at you over his shoulder. He’s the closest in age to Jake, but he’s still five years older. Thirteen then and too grown up for childish squabbles like those, he just turned back to the front and shook his head.

The first three of the Seresin boys were all born within three consecutive years. Matthew, Noah and Daniel. They’re each tall like their mother, blonde like her too, and have inherited their father’s linebacker shoulders. Noah was fourteen and about to be a freshman in high school. After he fixed the chain on your bike at the beginning of summer, you were full-blown head-over-heels in love with him back then. You thought you were anyway.

Jake, however, had been in your class since Kindergarten and you had been forced to share your toys with him for even longer than that.

His arms trembled before you and your mouth had twitched. Neither one of you was listening to the service. It was almost over. Just a few more minutes until Pastor James wrapped up and the people of Driftwood and poured out of this sauna and out into the dry, morning sun.

Quickly, you shot a look at your mother sitting at your side. She was listening intently, staring right ahead with her neatly steamed clothes and her hair-sprayed hair. You’ll always remember the heavy smell of her rose-scented perfume. Every time you inhale it, you’re sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her fix her face in her vanity. Then, you looked to your father on the other side of you. Exactly the same. Pleased, you turn your attention back to the youngest Seresin boy.

Scrunching your nose, you had sat forwards just slightly and stuck your tongue out at him. Quite the diss back then. Jake’s green eyes had widened, sweat beading down his back under his white shirt and his service robes.

Driftwood is a safe place. It’s a fantastic town to raise children. The schools aren’t overcrowded and cars don’t speed through the centre of town. Country roads are a different story. But no one bats an eyelid, especially not back then, when their children are out of sight.

Mary-Lynn was busily detailing the events of her dinner party that coming Saturday to a group of women that are invited. She’s quite the hostess still. Your mother stood amongst them. Neither one of them were concerned about where their children were in the slightest. Until, that is, the sounds of muffled screaming filled their ears. The mothers of Driftwood rush to the commotion in their kitten heels and pretty dresses. Your mother was the first around the corner. She would recognise the sound of her baby’s screaming anywhere. But you weren’t the one in trouble. As usual, you had been causing it.

Your white dress grass-stained and muddy, dirt under your fingernails and covering your formerly white, frilled socks. You were kneeling. You haven’t yet noticed the crowd of women rushing in your direction. You’ve got Mary-Lynn Seresin’s youngest son pressed into the dirt, kneeling on his back and twisting his arm uncomfortably behind him.

“Say Uncle!” You demanded.

“You’re so dead! Get off!” Jake struggled under you, screaming with all the force that his growing lungs would allow. His voice must have been audible across the entire valley with how he was hollering. Freckled cheek pressed into the dirt, his white shirt was destroyed and he was in the middle of ruining his shoes with how he was scrambling for purchase in the dried dirt.

Quickly, your mother had grabbed you under your arms and hauled you off of the boy, spinning you to face her.

“What do you think you’re doing young lady?”

“He started it! — He said my dress was ugly!”

“It is ugly, you look like a girl!” Jake huffed from behind you as he had stumbled onto his feet and taken a look down at his church clothes. Slowly, he had lifted his gaze to look at his mother. Sullen and worried looking, he began to pout. It wasn’t working. Mary-Lynn had raised three boys by then, she knew when they were trying to play innocent.

The thing about growing up so close together, is that approaching double digits was a confusing time. It was around that age that your mother began to put her foot down when it came to all of those tom-boy activities. Girls might roughhouse and come home with holes in their jeans and mud on their faces, but young ladies didn’t. The dress was her idea.

Jake’s comment had been passing, just a whisper as his family had headed into church ahead of yours, but he was right — you did look like a girl. Back then, that wasn’t a compliment coming from him. So, you had cornered him outside and pummeled him into the dirt. Fair is fair.

“Mary-Lynn, I am so sorry about her — send me the dry-cleaning bill. I’m sorry, we should go.” Your mother had sighed in a hurry, frowning down at your ruined clothes, then looking towards Jake’s. You’ll always remember the smile on Mary-Lynn’s face after. Not pity, because she knew you were in a lot of trouble for this. Just fondness. She had gently patted your mother’s forearm and shaken her head.

“Let’s finish our chat. They’re already filthy. Let them play.”

Looking up at her, you hadn’t understood why she was siding with you back then. You had just almost broken her son’s arm for sport. As you grew, Mary-Lynn Seresin was always on your side. In her kitten heels and dresses, she remembered being a dirt-covered little girl once too. No one was telling her son that it was time yet, to be a man. There’s no harm in letting you be young a little longer.

Your mother had looked uncertain, but people in Driftwood always looked to Mary-Lynn for advice. She had somehow managed to keep four boys in line perfectly, her parenting expertise was studied by those around her. Finally, she had given you a brief nod.

You remember spinning on the delicate almost-heel of your church shoes, rounding on Jake, ready to brawl. You have no clue where the stick came from, but he was armed when you had turned around — but Jake always fought fair. He tossed you a stick of your own and took aim. Green eyes narrowed, he was trying to look down his freckled nose at you, but you were taller then.

“She’s gonna marry that boy someday.” Mary-Lynn Seresin had huffed with a wistful smile, watching the mud-caked children tear off through the field once again. This time, with sticks in hands and violent intent plastered across their dirty faces.

You’re not eight anymore. Jake’s not nine. This time of the year, you both happen to be twenty-six. You aren’t trying to kill him with a stick anymore either. You’re sitting at your favourite bar in Driftwood — there are four now — watching your best friend up on stage. He’s always confident. He has been since he hit that growth spurt when he was twelve. Since then, Jake has been unstoppable. But on stage is when he really shines.

The Dark Star feels like an old bar. It’s packed every Friday night. It smells like malt and smoke and Jake’s been playing here every Saturday since he was seventeen. This is the last time that it will ever be like this, and you don’t even know it yet. Jake’s in the middle of an original. People around here know him, they know his music. They might not get all the words right, but he always gets people singing.

Jake isn’t small for his age now. He grew into his nose, and he inherited those big shoulders, his skin’s tanned from his days out at the ranch. He’s strong and funny and kind. Sometimes it catches you off guard, when you turn your head and find a man in place of the little boy you once knew.

You’re in a booth, talking numbers. It turns out that you had inherited your mother’s knack for business strategy, and Jake’s way with words had rubbed off on you long ago.

You don’t look like the little girl Jake had once known either. If he was concerned about you looking like a girl before, then you can only imagine how dismayed he must be when he looks at you now. Breasts and everything.

“It’s more than potential, Stu — you saw how crazy people were for him when he was opening for The Ashford Band.” You tell him, fingers curled around a brown glass bottle. This is already settled, the deal is already done. You knew from the second that he walked in that you had Stu Adler suckered.

This is a deal that you’ve been mulling over for a couple of months now. Getting Jake on his first headline tour. His debut album came out last week and it’s doing well, but the record label is tiny and the publicity deal is even smaller. Jake’s making pennies compared to other people in his genre, but you’re about to change all of that.

“Six months is a long time on the road. It’s a different lifestyle,” Stu’s dishwater grey eyes flicker briefly up from the plunging neckline of your top to meet your gaze. He’s an older man, with a once successful career in Los Angeles. Now, he spends his time scrounging small towns for talent. He’s just a stepping stone in your plans for Jake. “You’re sure he can handle it?”

Stretching your legs out, you scoff incredulously at the accusation as Jake’s last song dwindles behind you. The beer bottle is cool against your lips. Stu swallows, watching your lips purse around the rim to drink. You know he’d die for the chance to get his wrinkly, old dick in your mouth — it’s why Jake’s about to get the best deal of his life.

“Jake? — Of course.”

“Can you?” Stu asks. The light on you for once makes you cringe. Even so, your poker face doesn’t falter. Calmly staring across the table at him, a small smile on your face. “Y’know, he’s going to need a manager that I can rely on. I.e. — one that he won’t dump, sweetheart.”

This only makes your smile grow. “Jake is like a brother to me. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

It’s that lie that secures the deal. Six months, a hundred and sixty dates across the US. Mostly small venues, but it’s his first headline tour — and it’s all because of you. Because of that one little white lie. Letting Stu think that he’s got a chance with you. Letting him think that you’ve never fucked Jake.

You have. Twice, already by this point. Once, after senior prom. Your date was an asshole and his was cruel. You’d parked his truck out in the west pasture of the Seresin ranch and got a little too drunk under the stars, and wound up with your legs hiked up over his shoulders. The second time was Thanksgiving two years ago. Your family joined his. All of his brothers have fiancés or wives now. Sharing Jake’s bed in his childhood home that night, neither one of you was drunk. You were just lonely, and maybe bored.

Tonight, there are a couple of different factors at play. Sure, by the time that you and Jake collapse down onto that red, velvet couch in the Dark Star’s ‘dressing room’, you’ve had plenty to drink. You’re not quite as lonely as you were that thanksgiving, though.

You turn your head and he’s grinning at the ceiling, chest heaving from the energetic final song. His arms stretch along the backs of the couch, his eyes closed for a moment. You watch him silently.

“You’re incredible.” Jake’s half-cut on an unhealthy mix of tequila and vodka, but smiling, eyes still shut, chin still pointed towards the sky. He gives his head a small shake. “A hundred and sixty dates.”

A smile plasters itself across your lips. As drunk as you are, it’s nice to be complimented for your hard work. “Yeah, we’ll see if you still think I’m so incredible when you’re living off of burgers and beer and still have eighty shows to go.”

The smell of cigarettes lives within the fibre of this room. Part of the furniture, nestled amongst the cracks in the red painted walls. There’s the couch that you’re sitting on, and an illuminated vanity against the far wall, and then a coat stand. It’s not much of a dressing room, but it’s fine.

You just wish it would stop spinning.

“I mean it.” His fingers rest atop your denim clad thigh, patting platonically. You hear him sigh from beside you. He squeezes at the supple skin under his hand. “Thank you.”

“Jake… since when do you have manners?” You ask him. Both of you are sitting with your eyes shut on this old, probably dirty, velvet couch. It’s five in the morning. The two of you might have gone a little overboard with celebrating. Wayne Mayhew, the owner of the Dark Star might have threatened to kick you both out of his bar if you didn’t finally get off of his damn stage ten minutes ago.

But there’s a high buzzing between the two of you that feels electric. Wordlessly, you know Jake feels it too. That this is the last night. Here, in this shitty hometown bar. Everything is about to change. After this tour, nothing will ever be the same again — for either of you.

Jake’s thumb trails back and forth in just one small pattern, reminding you that it’s there on your thigh.

It’s been on your mind all day, for no reason at all. That Sunday in August in 1974. Your ruined church dress and the fat bruise on Jake’s cheek the next day when you had seen him at the market. The start of it all.

Those late night drives and all the evenings you studied together. Jake’s football games and his band practices — back when he had thought he wanted to be in a band. Him drying your tears and making you laugh. Growing up together, talking for hours and hours about all of the possibilities. This was everything Jake had ever wanted, and he’s thanking you.

Your eyelids weigh double what they normally do — heavy as you blink open your eyes and turn your head. This time, he’s looking across at you. The tips of his fingers brush the inseam of your blue, low-rise jeans. His face is calm, he isn’t saying anything and he’s far from doing anything either.

Scrunching your nose, you poke your tongue out at him. Across the couch, Jake lifts his brows. The corner of his mouth twitches. He’s got stubble now. Stubble, and chest hair and an Adam’s apple. But that look, that glint in his eye that’s just daring you to try him has always been the same.

Jake’s fingers twitch, pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Dim lighting, fifteen year old red paint on each of the four walls, and that perpetual cigarette smell — it’s hardly a romantic fantasy. And this is far from a good idea.

But it’s Jake. Confident, loud Jake who gets shy when he’s around someone he really likes. Funny, smart-mouthed Jake who under it all is a great listener. Goofy, habitual Jake who has the nighttime routines of a fifty year old housewife.

Strong-willed, handsome, Jake, your best friend — who’s looking at you like you’re his next meal.

…

@fia-thefirst @daggerspare-standingby @dempy @v0id-chaos @moonlight-addisyn @grxcisxhy-wp @shakespeareanwannabe @coconut152 @330bpm-whiplash @takemetooneverlanddd @princess76179 @loveofvernonslife @averyhotchner @trickphotography2 @sushiwriterhere @the-romanian-is-bae @atarmychick007 @talktomegooseman @xoxabs88xox @thedroneranger @roostersforevergirl @buckysdollforlife @abaker74 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @whatislovevavy @lonelywriter10 @s-u-t @topguncortez @callsign-joyride @rosedurin @86laura11 @theenorthstar @mygyn @growup-thatbeautiful @percysaidnever @katiedid-3 @its-the-pilot

#jake smut #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #Jake Seresin fic #jake seresin #Glen powell #Jake hangman Seresin #top gun: maverick

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pearlprincess02 · 8 months ago

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listen to: ARIES EDITION

ARIES MOON

whitney houston - moon in 1st house, cardi b - moon in 1st house, tupac - unknown, rihanna - moon in 12th house (sext. mercury), selena gomez - moon in 9th house, céline dion - moon in 10th house (conj. mars), wiz khalifa - moon in 3rd house (opp. mercury), ross lynch - moon in 9th house (squ. mercury & mars), bryson tiller - moon in 4th house (tri. mercury), grimes - moon in 4th house, will.i.am - moon in 4th house, janet jackson - moon in 10th house, rosé (blackpink) - moon in 2nd house (opp. mars), pink - moon in 4th house (squ. mars), blackbear - moon in 12th house (sext. mars), meghan trainor - moon in 2nd house, perrie edwards - moon in 2nd house,

ARIES VENUS

mina (twice) - venus in 1st house (conj. sun & sext. neptune & tri. pluto), lady gaga - venus in 11th house, shakira - venus in 12th house, johnny cash - venus in 1st house, rihanna - venus in 12th house (conj. moon & squ. neptune), mariah carey - venus in 12th house (squ. moon), cha eun-woo (astro) - venus in 10th house (conj. sun & tri. pluto), lisa (blackpink) - venus in 9th house (conj. sun & tri. pluto), matty healy (the 1975) - venus in 12th house (conj. sun & sext. mars), leona lewis - venus in 4th house (conj. sun), pharrell williams - venus in 10th house (conj. sun), janet jackson - venus in 10th house (conj. moon), chorong (apink) - venus in 12th house (opp. moon), ava max - venus in 8th house (squ. moon & mars), ashe - venus in 12th house (sext. moon), bob marley - venus in 4th house (opp. neptune), tyler, the creator - venus in 9th house (squ. neptune & sext. mars), jackson wang (got7) - venus in 3rd house (squ. neptune), billie joe armstrong (green day) - venus in 3rd house (tri. neptune), madison beer - venus in 11th house (tri. pluto), kehlani - venus in 10th house (tri. pluto), tinashe - venus in 11th house, morgan wallen - venus in 4th house (tri. mars), victoria monét - venus in 9th house (tri. mars), hillary scott (lady a) - venus 3rd house (tri. mars),

MOON IN 1ST HOUSE

madonna - moon in virgo, michael jackson - moon in pisces, katy perry - moon in scorpio, whitney houston - moon in aries, cardi b - moon in aries, jay-z - moon in libra, avril lavigne - moon in scorpio, sza - moon in pisces, nelly furtado - moon in capricorn, matty healy (the 1975) - moon in taurus, chester bennington (linkin park) - moon in sagittarius, baekhyun (exo-k) - moon in gemini, billy idol - moon in gemini

VENUS IN 1ST HOUSE

beyoncé - venus in libra, zayn malik - venus in pisces, selena gomez - venus in leo, katy perry - venus in sagittarius, avril lavigne - venus in scorpio, halsey - venus in scorpio, doja cat - venus in scorpio, selena - venus in pisces, frank ocean - venus in scorpio, olivia rodrigo - venus in capricorn, sinéad o'connor - venus in sagittarius, johnny cash - venus in aries, saweetie - venus in taurus

playlist post

main masterlist

©pearlprincess0

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rottenzombrainz · 1 month ago

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Tokyo Debunker ; Ghouls favorite Bath and Bodyworks Scent

Yes, I know this is niche. Yes, I know a good portion of these characters wouldn't even ever step into a B&B - but this is for funsies! like all headcanons!

Also, for the sake of convenience, I'm ignoring the fact that smells and perfumes are gendered and that some characters would care about that 🌝

warning: kinda super ooc?!??

Frostheim

Jin Kamurai - Definitely one of the Christmas scents. Not a pepperminty one though. Probably Eucalyptus Snowfall

Tohma Ishibashi - Cozy Vanilla Almond.

Lucas Errant - Either a coffee or nutty smell. I'll go with Freshly Brewed Coffee

Kaito Fuji - Gingham. Just basic Gingham.

Vagastorm

Alan Mido - Mahagony Teakwood

Shohei Haizono - Kitchen Lemon or any other citrus smell

Leo Kurosagi - A Thousand Wishes.

Jabberwock

Haru Sagara - Jasmine & Currant

Towa Otonashi - Honey Wildflower.

Ren Shiranami - Green Apple... idk why

Sinostra

Taiga Hoshibami - One of the bar smells like Bourbon

Romeo Lucci - We all know B&B is too cheap for Romi, but if he had to choose something, I'd say he'd choose Honey Apple Champagne

Ritsu Shinjo - Sticking with the bar theme, Champagne Toast

Hotarubi

Subaru Kagami - Japanese Cherry Blossom

Haku Kusangi - Rose Water & Ivy - it feels very Haku

Zenji Kotodama - Moonlight Path for sure

Obscuary

Edward Hart - Fresh Linen to hide the smell of his dirty clothes

Rui Mizuki - White Gardenia or any floral scent, really.

Lyca Colt - Noir

Mortkranken

Yuri Isami - Something herbal with mint or eucalyptus. Therefore; Eucalyptus Mint

Jiro Kirisaki - Vampire Blood. Not just cus its my favorite! I really do think it suits him!

I probably could have done a better job if I drove to the mall and actually went into a Bath and Bodyworks, but I didn't feel like it 😋

#tkdb #tokyo debunker #tdb #tokyo debunker headcanons #hc #headcannons #tkdb hc #be nice its my first headcanon post :(

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gogobootz1 · 2 years ago

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Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Eddie Roundtree x Reader

Summary: Stress is starting to interfere with your sleep schedule. But a late-night encounter with a fellow member of The Six might just help you out.

A/N: It really bothers me that the show changed his last name, but I love this man so here you go

Word Count: 1k

The one thing you really couldn’t find yourself getting used to in LA was the heat. Dry, stifling, and never-ending, it made you miserable. After spending nearly your whole life in cold, dreary Pittsburgh, you were more than struggling to make the adjustment.

The cheap ass house Billy had rented didn’t help things, either. Among its flaws, the lack of air conditioning is at the top of your list. And it’s why you can’t seem to stop tossing and turning. No matter which limbs you stick out from under your blankets, it’s not enough to cool you down. The windows you opened two hours ago aren’t helping either. Growing tired of trying to sleep, you throw the covers off of yourself and sit up.

At the very least, some water should be able to help.

You huff and make your way downstairs, paying no mind to the time. Grabbing a glass from the kitchen cabinet, you let the door swing shut. Once you’ve sipped on your tap water for a bit, you decide a snack might help too.

Still holding your cup in one hand, you start rummaging through the fridge with the other.

Leftovers were clearly out. As delicious as Camila’s lasagna was two nights ago, you didn’t want to bother heating anything up. Not to mention that Warren would probably want it for breakfast. Billy specifically said that the apples he bought were off-limits, but you aren’t necessarily opposed to pissing him off. You are, however, concerned about his taste. He probably got red delicious or Jonathan or something equally as gross, so you can't have that. Finally, you strike gold. The deli drawer. At least one Dunne brother has your back. Graham made a B-line for the deli counter on your grocery trip the other day.

You snag two slices of cheese out of the packet and start eating them while looking to see if the fridge has anything else to offer.

"Are you eating deli meat straight from the fridge at 2 AM?"

You whip around to find Eddie staring at you expectantly. For a second, you're like a deer in headlights. Caught red-handed, standing by the evidence. You swallow the final bite of cheese you were working on.

"No."

He makes a face that tells you he is not at all buying it.

"It was cheese," you mumble. Quietly, you continue, "why are you in here anyway, Edward?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe to see who was making all that noise?" He shrugs angrily. For the first time, you take note of his pajamas. The blue and green plaid really compliments the white Rolling Stones shirt he's got on. His hair's all tussled, probably because he was just sleeping.

"Shit, I woke you up, didn't I?" You whisper, internally kicking yourself. The fridge closes behind you as you take a seat at the kitchen table. You rest your head in your hands. "I'm really sorry, Eddie."

The sincerity in your voice takes him off guard. Typically your relationship is characterized by bickering and teasing and sticking your tongues out at each other like when you were little. This is a rare moment of vulnerability for you.

Eddie takes the seat across from you at the table. "What are you doing up in the first place?" He asks gently.

"I'm too hot," you complain.

"Sure are," he nods, and you kick him. "OW! Jesus, I was joking."

You sigh again, guiltily, "sorry."

"Cranky much," he rubs at his knee, "did you get any sleep at all?"

"No," you say miserably.

"Wait, are you serious?" Eddie asks, and you nod. "We were in the studio all day, and you stayed late to record the extra trombone part. Aren't you exhausted?" You nod once again. He lets out a sigh, "what's keeping you up then?"

"I already told you, Billy needs to fix the damn air conditioning," you grumble.

"And that's all?" Eddie sounds skeptical.

You sigh, "I don't know. It's just- a lot." He gives an encouraging nod, and you continue, "we're not in Pittsburgh anymore, and everything's new and different, and this is our shot, and if I blow it-"

"Woah there," Eddie stops you. "First of all, if anyone blows it, it'll be Graham for spilling something on someone important." That pulls a laugh out of you, and he smiles. "And I know things are different, but it's exciting too. If you ever feel homesick, though, we'll just drive around until we find someplace that reminds us of Eat'n Park. Okay?"

You nod softly at his words, and he stands up. You send him a questioning look.

"Come on," he says, "you've gotta get some sleep."

"Eddie, I've tried," you insist. He rolls his eyes at you.

"Then at least come sit on the couch," he pleads. You reluctantly follow him into the living room and plop yourself down on the sofa. "Close your eyes too. If they get any more bloodshot, people will think we're high all the time."

"Aren't we?" You ask, throwing your arm over your face. You don't see him shake his head at you while he grabs his guitar.

"Since you woke me up, you get to hear what I've been working on," Eddie says. He pushes your legs over so that he has room to sit.

"Lucky me," your voice drips with sarcasm. Eddie flicks your leg, and you flinch away. "Hey!"

"Watch it, sleeping beauty," he says.

"Or what?" You taunt.

"I'll tell Billy you broke the garbage disposal," he smirks. You bolt upright at his words.

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?"

"How was I supposed to know I had to turn the water to use it?!"

Eddie stares at you, unimpressed.

"Never mind, Mozart, play on," you nod at him. Eddie starts strumming the guitar, and you sigh, laying back down.

The melody is slow and sweet, mesmerizing too. Your intentions of listening closely to offer feedback quickly slip out the window. Especially when he starts humming along. You don't even feel yourself starting to drift off. Your acute awareness of the temperature in the house, your dry mouth, or any residual hunger that haunted you earlier slips away.

Eddie goes on playing for a bit before he looks to you for your thoughts on it. When he finds you fast asleep, he sighs, "that good, huh?" He shakes his head with a smile on his face. Eddie stands and hangs the guitar back on the wall, retiring to his own room. He'll make you listen to it again in the morning.

#eddie roundtree x reader #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones and the six #eddie loving #eddie loving x reader

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panicky-pansexual · 5 months ago

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@91divoc This ones for you🗣️‼️

So basically the first/main Spider-Man AU I worked on was Spider-Edward. (I don’t know why I picked him specifically it just seemed to fit)

He’s way younger in this AU compared to my normal humanization by about 20 years and the only reason why I made it that was was because I was going to try and show him being Spider-Man through the years Peter B. Parker style.

His universe is based off of Toby Macguire’s Spider-Man but he himself is based off Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man.

Of course you can’t have a Spider-Man without a Deadpool and that’s exactly the role I put James in because fuck you /j

Honestly I associated James with Deadpool as a half-joke because 2x5/Spider-Pool haha funny but the longer I left him as Deadpool the more I couldn’t unsee him in that role. I even gave him the two voices in his head from the comics!

It might be because they’re both pretty flamboyant characters (one’s just a bit more unhinged) but I honestly couldn’t really see James as any other character.

Also Rosie’s there as a Gwenpool stand in!

Gordon and Henry were both villains in this AU. Henry being Green Goblin and Gordon being Doc Ock. (Which shall I say was the best decision I’ve ever made cuz GOD DAYUM)

Their lore/origins collide with each other as follows: Gordon, being overworked, gradually loses his sanity which leads to the creation of the octo-arms (he makes them as an attempt to lighten work) only for them to backfire, creating Doc Ock.

Later, Henry dies (never really figured out how I just knew it would be the equivalent of the Flying Kipper crash), his death being the stand in for a sort of Uncle Ben tragedy, and Gordon attempts to revive him. Henry’s revival succeeds, of course, but leads to the creation of the Green Goblin.

I would also like to add that I have so many sketches of Doc Ock Gordon that I wanted to add but I couldn’t find them 😔

Meanwhile, in a separate universe, we have Spider-Thomas! This is the only drawing I have of the AU but him and his universe were based off of Tom Holland’s Spider-Man with Percy standing in as Ned/the guy in the chair (but I also planned on them becoming a Spider-Man in the AU later sorta similar to Miles Morales) and Rosie being the MJ stand in.

And that’s all the information I have! (I never knew how badly I needed to share this)

#my god this was a lot to type #Tumblr started lagging so bad 😭😭#worth it tho #ttte #ttte humanized #ttte gijinka #ttte thomas #ttte edward #ttte henry #ttte gordon #ttte james #ttte rosie #ttte au #debating adding the Spider-Man tags #maybe later

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caesariawritesstuff · 2 months ago

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Hello !! 😊

My God I love your writing, I've spent nights awake reading your fanfic. I'm extremely obsessed with the way you write Edward, you manage to capture the entire essence of the character, his entire personality. I love your writing so much.

And I love the character, especially him in Arkham Origins (he's really hot) I really wanted to thank you, your writing gets me through difficult days.

(I'm sorry for my bad English)

Anyway, I'd love to do an ask for detective x Edward with the following prompt:

3. Bedroom. Eyes. Bedroom eyes. Just them eye fucking each other across the fucking table or whatever because they can, and in the most subtle way possible.

4. Character A brushing their hand against the waist/hips of Character B, and Character B turning slightly to see Character A walking past them with a slight smile. Follow me, it says.

Bedroom Eyes

Summary: Stuck in a meeting, you find yourself eye fucking Edward from across the room.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: This fic is currently not canon to the official Cat&Mouse!Verse storyline, but I really like this so I might include it eventually. Also, I am so so sorry this took me ages to get to, but I hope you enjoy! Thank you for all your kind words, too!

For all that you enjoyed about your job, there was one thing you did not enjoy: the six month annual meeting to discuss budget cuts and increases that Commissioner Cash called a meeting to discuss with everyone. While yes, it was a necessary evil on the administrative end, the last thing you wanted to hear about was just how much funding was being cut, or how many resources was being stripped away from the department. Sighing, you crossed your arms over yourself, gazing around the bullpen, which was filled shoulder-to-shoulder with dozens of other officers and detectives, piling in to takes notes and listen intently. Up front, Cash held a clipboard in between his hand and hook; he was halfway through talking about the statistics of this year’s successful criminals arrests. Perhaps you should be paying more attention, but instead, you were itching to get back to your desk in the Homicide Division and get to work on your next case. Anxious knots twisted in your belly, and you shifted back and forth on your feet, chewing on the inside of your cheek. A frustrated tingle prickled along your skin. You really did not have time to be sitting here listening to this – you needed to get back upstairs and do your job.

As the thought crossed your mind, you lifted your head from the papers resting in front of you, looking around the rest of the room – when your eyes suddenly caught on a familiar figure standing directly across from you: Edward Nigma. He was just hiding within the shadows, underneath one of the small alcoves, nestled away from everyone else. There was a mug of coffee in his hands as he took a sip, bringing it to his lips. A light mist of steam wafted into his face, and your gaze immediately dropped to the way his tongue darted out to lick away a stray drop of coffee that landed on the corner of his mouth when he finished with his drink. Your heart leapt into your throat as you took him in: his dark pants, his white button down, the green vest pulled over and buttoned up. The sleeves of his button down were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the lean, toned and scarred muscles of his arms. Just the sight alone made your cheeks flush, heat rise across your skin.

Dammit, you thought, cursing yourself under your breath as a rush of desire swept through your veins. Heat pulsed in your clit, lust pooling in your core. Even from here, he exuded arrogance and asshole-ness, his condescending nature seeming to breathe throughout the entire room. Even the other officers around him slinked away, suffocating from his overbearing and aggravating nature – a nature which you’d become so awfully familiar with over the last few months, but still. Even after all you’d been through with him, you still couldn’t help the magnetic pull that threatened to drag you deeper and deeper into his wicked embrace. Your heart beat heavily in your chest, a steady beat as the blood rushed through your ears. Well, after some particular…things had happened over the last few months, you’d made it an effort to keep as much distance from him as possible while here at work, trying to remain as professional as you could when around him – as impossible as that seemed to be with every passing day.

Because, let’s face it: you could not stay away from Edward Nigma, no matter how hard you fucking tried.

Pulling your eyes away, you looked back down at the papers in front of you, reading over something else about budget cuts and other things you didn’t care to read about. The words blurred together in your eyes, swimming like alphabet soup, and you blinked, trying to clear the mist from your vision. Dammit, you were so fucking bored and ready to do your job.

But as you looked up again – you found Edward continuing to watch you. His gaze was intense, almost curious, staring at you with those blue eyes, narrowed, the clear look of a man who’s mind was constantly running on overdrive. Whatever he was thinking, you’d never know, but a soft smirk touched the corner of his mouth, as though he’d caught you watching him, too. Your gaze roved over every inch of him, taking him all in: his leaned body, the way his clothes hugged him in all the right places, your eyes landing for a moment on his crotch. A soft smile twitched at the edge of your own lips, imagining the taste of his cock in your mouth. How it would feel if he face-fucked you until his cum shot down your throat and he was moaning and gasping your name as if his life depended on it…

Heat pooled in your stomach, igniting a firestorm of lust in your veins. You shifted slightly where you stood, squeezing your thighs together, fighting against the dampness in your panties. God, you were already wet just thinking about it. A furious blush rose on your cheeks, but you licked your lips, losing yourself to the fantasy.

Edward cocked his head to the side, as if taking note of the movement of your tongue. His smirk grew a little wider, taking on that even greater air of condescension he exuded so well. You held his gaze, not daring to break eye contact; instead, you let your eyes wander up and down his form again, studying him, undressing him – imagining what it would be like if he bent you over the desk in front of everyone here and now and took what was his. You would let him, too. Let him show his ownership and domination over you – drown in his possession. The breath hitched in your throat as your gaze wandered further, before pausing on his crotch – where you began to see a noticeable bulge growing in his pants. You looked back up at him, smirking.

Well, you thought. It’s clear what he’s thinking about.

Edward shifted, as if to attempt to conceal his erection, but he still didn’t break eye contact with you. Instead, he only studied you with the same slow intention, as if he, too, was undressing you with his eyes. Heat seared across your skin, and slowly, you reached up, wrapping a lock of hair around your finger, playing with it in a slow, seductive manner as you bit your lower lip. The fog of lust clouded your vision, completely losing you to the task at hand and the fact that a dozen officers were all around you. All you could think about was Edward, and how badly you wanted him in that very moment.

“That’s all,” Cash suddenly said, his voice booming, breaking through your sex-filled thoughts. “Any questions?”

A low rumble of “no’s” echoed from your fellow officers. Cash looked around, taking in what everyone was saying, before he nodded and said, “Dismissed.”

You immediately turned away, finally breaking eye contact from Edward as you struggled to catch your breath. Dampness pooled in between your legs, and you licked your lips, fighting against the urge to go see him. Not in front of all these people who could be watching. You were already on thin ice as it was. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you followed the crowd of officers back through the station, being swept away in the sea of bodies. You needed to get back to your desk, back to work, and ignore that this whole interaction had happened at all.

But as you turned a corner, following the officers, you suddenly felt a presence behind you. Hands were suddenly on your hips, gentle, breath tickling at the back of your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. You turned slightly, just enough to see Edward behind you. An arrogant smile was plastered across his face, and his eyes said one silent command: follow me.

You did not need to think twice, and his hand suddenly slipped into yours as he tugged you away from the sea of officers all around you. He led you down two halls, away from everyone else, towards a small janitors closet. He yanked open the door, gesturing for you to go inside – but as soon as you were in, he shut the door quietly behind you – and then his mouth was on yours.

Hot, needy kisses as he pushed you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body. He tasted like bitter black coffee and smelled of cheap cologne, but you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, drowning in his kisses.

“You naughty little tease,” he whispered against your lips. “Flashing me those bedroom eyes. What would your fellow officers think, hm?”

“I don’t care,” you whispered back, your hands immediately going for his tie.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, and you felt the smile on his face as his lips found your neck, sucking gently on that sweet spot that only made you come undone in his arms.

“Now,” he said, licking at your skin. “We only have twenty minutes before the next janitor arrives. Let’s use this time wisely, shall we?”

You smiled. “Yes, Mr. Nigma, sir,” you said.

A low purr of approval left his lips – and as his hands immediately went for your shirt to undo the buttons of your blouse, you lost yourself to the pleasure he offered.

And used that time wisely, you did.

#caesariawrites #cat&mouse!verse #the riddler #edward nigma #arkhamverse riddler #edward nygma #the riddler x y/n #the riddler x you #the riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler x reader #riddler x detective #edward nigma x y/n #edward nigma x reader #arkham edward nigma #edward nigma x you #arkham edward nygma #edward nygma x reader

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fromthedust · 1 month ago

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portrayals of bats in the 20th & 21st centuries

Bat Cabaret Sign - France - wrought iron, rolled iron, carved and embossed, green glass

pair of bats - ivory seal - China

Rene Lalique (French, 1860-1945) - bat brooch - 1900

bat design - Bijutsukai (Art World) - vol. 2 - 1901-1902

Rene Lalique (French, 1860-1945) - bat ring - 1901

Rene Lalique (French, 1860-1945) - bat pendant - 1901

Ferdinand Erhart (French, active 1891-1933) - Bat Belt Buckle - cast silver, carved and oxidized - 1908

Bat Brooch - France - c.1908

Henri Husson (French, 1852-1933) - Cup with Bat - c.1909

Ohara Koson (Japanese, 1877-1945) - Bats In Moonlight - c.1910

Harrison Cady (American, 1877-1970) - illustration for Mother West Wind Why Stories by Thornton Burgess - 1915

John Buckland Wright (British, 1897-1954) - illustration for Le Sphinx by Iwan Gilkin - 1919

Heinrich Kley (German, 1863-1945) - illustration for Der Orchideengarten (The Orchid Garden) - 1919

Bats and Crescent Moon - incense box - Japan - early 20th century

Weird Tales - October 1933

Black Bat Firecrackers

Edward Gorey (American, 1925-2000) - Bat & Ballerina - pin - New York City Ballet - c.1970s

Edward Gorey (American, 1925-2000) - Bats & Bicycles stencil illustration from The Broken Spoke - 1976

Edward Gorey (American, 1925-2000) - cover illustration for A Clutch of Vampires by Raymond T. McNally

Three of Bats - Tarot Card - 1996

Richard Cooluris (American, working in San Francisco) - Perseus and the Bat - mixed media painting on wood panel - 2016

Yegor Smirnov (working in Montreal) - Bat Ring - 3d-printed and casted in silver - 2016

Stephanie Inagaki (working in Los Angeles) - Trinity - charcoal & gold foil

Adam Binder (British, b.1970) - Bats - carved ebony & carved ivory

Wayan Tuges (luthier working in Indonesia) - Raised by Bats - Commemorative custom Blueberry guitar for Aurelio Voltair - 2020

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danosrosegarden · 1 year ago

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bark like you want it - edward nashton x fem!reader (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{kinktober: day nine. prompt: squirting. 🎃}

{contains: dom edward, vibrator torture/overstim, mentions of multiple orgasms, and descriptions of squirting.}

There came a point where everything fuzzed together and blurred into one ecstatic haze. You'd lost track of the amount of times you'd felt the tight, knotted ball of heat burst and scatter in your gut, that warm fever shimmering throughout your limbs all the way down to your curling toes.

Eddie was normally sickeningly sweet and preciously soft, always so willing to get to his knees and bend to your will. He'd get into moods, though; it was like you could sense a bug had crawled underneath his skin, cravings festering in his blood cells, and the thirst couldn't be quenched until you were a trembling, sweat-slicked disaster.

Whatever it took, he'd do, even if that meant he had to enlist the help of a toy. The first time you'd brought up introducing toys to the bedroom, his stomach lurched with a wild species of...what was it, jealousy? He felt small and stupid, his heart growing green with envy because of a piece of buzzing silicone. But damn if that little guy didn't get the job done. He'd never seen your back arch or heard your syrupy moans pour from your mouth the way they had when he pressed the fluttering vibe up to your twitching clit. It brought you pure, unfiltered bliss, and he couldn't handle ripping that away from you because of his own insecurities.

Besides, it didn't matter what was making you soak his sheets...he just needed to see you gush for him. It felt so intimately dirty, to watch the excruciatingly pleasurable waves of shock roll through your quivering body. He'd hold you tight through the overwhelming, intoxicating euphoria. Though he did enjoy torturing you with nonstop currents, never-ending waves of orgasm after orgasm, he still was that sweet, soft man you knew deep inside. When each glimmering sheet of ecstasy washed over your body, he'd press the vibrator even closer against you and coo into your ear.

"There we go. Just like that. Good, good."

Despite how it looked (your nails clawing against the wet sheets underneath you, your poor, weak legs shaking, and the nearly pained moans escaping from your gritted teeth), it wasn't about inflicting hurt. It was about hand serving you so much pleasure, you wouldn't know how to consume it all in one serving without bursting.

Think of all the times you'd pumped at him with a steady, firm hand after he pleaded for no more, please, I can't take any more! Wouldn't you like to feel what it was like? Weren't you curious to experience those sparkling spirals of paralyzing paradise twirling around in the pit of your stomach, even just once? It was only fair that he got to toy with you a bit, too.

He couldn't give it to you right away, though. That wouldn't be a fair game. When you did this to him, your smirk was condescending and in your pupils swam a power-drunk swirl. He wouldn't forget how you'd make him beg for it, and he wouldn't let you get off the hook without asking nicely for it, either.

He'd wait until the high was so close, you could taste it on the very tip of your tongue. He'd help lift you up to grab it, sure, but not without permission.

"Why should I let you cum again, huh? Tell me, baby, and you can have it."

His voice was thick and husky, glazed over with scorching, scintillating lust. It all brought him just as much delight as it did you, you squirming, skin slicked with your own juices while his hand reached around to rub buzzing circles onto your throbbing clit.

"B-been so good for you. Please, please!"

You hardly recognized the squeaking squeals trickling from your open mouth. Jesus, that's my voice?

But oh, you really had been so good for him, taking everything thrown at you in such diligent, devoted stride.

His mouth bent in a devious but proud, oh so proud curve. Didn't you deserve one more reward?

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n #kinktober #kinktober 23

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 1 year ago

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Why Twilight is better when we make it gay

a overly detailed, totally unecessary, post that wants to prove that Twilight is better when we make it 🏳️‍🌈 GAY 🏳️‍🌈

So, follow along 👇🏻

Esme with This Bella

Kinda of set up the vibes of Carine or something, so I'm all on board with this. You know, this Bella has some serious aspirations in life. She's getting her master's degree, maybe a doctorate even, in Philosophy, Greek Mythology, ancient history, literatute or something oddly specific that takes a full minute to even say it. You know, she's a nerd. Esme loves her for it.

Bella also loves to spend a ridiculous amount of time listening to Esme talk about anything, she also sits in the garden with a book when Esme is arms deep in the dirt, and they for sure spend their days off making food for homeless people or volunteering in shelters or knitting clothes and blankets for donation. Well, Esme does most of the knitting, but Bella has no problem holding the wool for her.

Rosalie with This Bella

Okay, so this Bella is still pretty shy and clumsy, but she has a backbone and knows what she wants. She’s also a flirt, even if a bit awkward because of her shyness. She also has a stack of dad jokes ready to be used and she’s not afraid of doing so. You can’t blame her, she’s just socially weird and she makes jokes when she’s uncomfortable. Which Rosalie gets. She doesn’t hate Bella for no reason at all, as we see in most Rosella’s fics, she’s just determined to keep a safe distance. It all goes to shit, obviously, when Bella starts showing up at her house to work on a school project with Edward.

Bella is a mess around Rosalie. A gay mess. She stumbles over her words and her face is constantly red, but she keeps smiling and she finds Rosalie’s sneers particularly funny. She breaks Rosalie’s walls by not doing anything else, really. She’s just there, and she talks with Rosalie, and she has no problem backing away when Rosalie needs a break.

When they get together, Bella’s favorite activity is to ride in Rosalie’s fancy cars. She’s still scared, but she loves it when Rosalie goes so fast that everything outside is a blur. Sometimes they will ride in complete silence, sometimes there’s song playing, sometimes they start telling stories to each other, sometimes Bella has a whole new stack of dad jokes to tell.

Bella also develops a taste for motorcycles, a passion she’s eager to engage with Jasper. So, every once in a while, Rosalie will be working in the garage under a car and she will hear Bella’s bike pulling outside. She just knows she’s supposed to go there, so she goes and finds Bella waiting for her with a helmet and a bright smile. Rosalie is smitten.

Bella also has a way to make Rosalie feel like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. She is aware of her beauty, always has and always will be, but she can’t help but feel special when Bella looks at her with those green eyes that kind of makes her forget that the world is fucked up. At least for a while.

They would go off to college together. Rosalie would be getting another engineering degree and Bella would get a bachelor's in Chemistry or Biology, maybe Psychology. She would whine and complain every day, though Rosalie is sure she’s only doing that to piss her off.

And Bella would have to learn to enjoy baseball because Rosalie just loves it.

Alice with This Bella

These two are the only ones I see working with Bella’s personality being the closest to canon. You know, happy little Alice with a slightly depressed Bella, who also has some low self-esteem problems. Bella is aware of her intelligence, though, and she also would impose some clear boundaries, like not sneaking into her room while she was sleeping and making her a part of discussions to make decisions and not just dropping shit at her for her to deal with. Alice has zero problems with her immortality, so she would have no problem turning Bella when the girl felt ready, although she asks Bella to be sure she had experienced everything she wanted as a human beforehand.

In this scenario, Alice doesn’t force Bella to be her personal human Barbie doll. Actually, she steals Bella’s hoodies very often, to the point where the girl has to have a search party in Alice’s gigantic closet one day. One of their favorite thing to do together would be to watch the stars and Alice finds it amusing to come up with fake information about space or fake names for constellations. It took Bella a very long time to notice this and, by the time she did, she had already spread some of it to her friends. They also go to the movies a lot and there’s a lot of dancing in the rain, even if Bella can’t barely keep herself standing.

Alice would be Charlie’s absolute favorite, of course. They would be pals, you know. Charlie would take her fishing one day - when Alice manages to convince him to go somewhere other than La Push - and he would teach her very patiently all he knew.

Tanya with This Bella

This Bella is grumpy. She has a lot of self-derogatory jokes to make, she’s sarcastic and she likes using it as a weapon. Tanya finds it not so amusing, quite concerning actually, but then Bella will flash her with one of her side smiles that makes her knees go ridiculously weak and Tanya will forget what she should be worried about.

Bella moves slowly, very slowly, and her shoulders are a bit drooped as if she can’t hold herself straight. For Tanya, it takes a lot of patience because, even with how much time she had to adjust to humans, she’s not used to spending so much time around one. Especially one that takes so long to get down the stairs for no reason. Tanya is also the most romantic person alive, so Bella needs to be prepared to basically everything.

Tanya is sugar mommy. Bella tries to fight it, but there’s no point. Tanya is always giving her presents, booking tickets, taking her to weekend getaways, and making every single desire come to life. It takes Bella out of balance in the beginning. She doesn’t know how to deal with it, to the point where she asks Irina to help her talk with Tanya to slow down a bit. It helps… until Bella shows a slight interest in something new and things skyrocket again.

They met in college. Tanya is a teacher - not her teacher because that would be too much - and Bella is getting her degree in History or Sociology. Bella can skate, so it’s not uncommon for Tanya’s students to leave her classroom and find Bella leaning against the wall holding her skate under her arm while waiting for her to go get lunch.

Once she turns, Bella goes around feeling very proud of her coven leader wife, but she wants nothing to do with it. She would hate the responsibility of it.

Kate with This Bella

Have you ever heard of a chaotic duo? They’re it.

Bella is all about adventures and trying new things, and Kate is… well, she has zero respect for humans’ mortality, which almost becomes a problem once or twice. Tanya, Carmen and Eleazar had to remind her more than once that humans couldn’t jump from a plane with no parachute, even if Kate was supposed to grab her before hitting the ground. It’s not like she doesn’t care if Bella gets hurt, because she does! Her eyes fill with tears that will never drop every time she sees even a scratch on Bella’s skin - which happens quite a lot - but she hasn’t been human for a long time and it’s easy to forget a few things when she gets excited about something.

They would do everything together and Kate would teach her to do anything she knew, like surf or change a house’s electric system. Eventually, after Bella is turned and good to go, they would totally have one of those handyman services where they would go around town helping people with the most mundane of things like installing a shower, changing the plumbing, changing tires, all of that. They would have fun doing those things and then running as fast as they could to jump off a cliff at the end of the day.

#Twilight #gay twilight #bella swan #esme cullen #rosalie hale #alice cullen #tanya denali #kate denali #bella x rosalie #bella x alice #bella x esme #bella x tanya #bella x kate #kristen stewart

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