#i keep thinking about the guilt of it all and the knowledge that you wouldn't be so happy hearing from me if you knew what happened

[fleastinger]

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

genuinely tweaking over your OlderBF! Bruce headcannons omg. do you have any more Older BF! Bruce thoughts to spare? (I adore you and your writing <3)

I alwaysss have more Bruce thoughts to spare. I think this man takes over my mind more than my boyfriend does (not complaining :) )

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne (Part 2)

Sensitive content: Brief mention of kidnapping and stalking

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is so utterly devoted to you. This man is at your side and obeying your every will as often as he can. You saw a pretty dress you wanted in a shop window? It's laying on the foot of your shared bed when you come home. You need attention after an argument? He's cancelling his work meetings, if he can, to spend a bit of time with you.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who underestimates just how loud and angry he can get. There is never a moment where he isn't stressed, even when he's with you. And, as much as he tries to hold back, he loses his temper so easily with you.

"Im just saying, Im concerned, alright-?" You start, arms crossed over your chest as you take a seat on the edge of your lavish shared bed.

"What, that Im cheating?" He snaps back almost immediately, head whipping around to face you as he stops pacing. In all honesty, he regrets it as soon as he sees the look in your eyes, but he's far to stubborn to ever admit that.

"Bruce, you know that's not what I mean." You respond softly, choosing not to further escalate the situation by simply laying back on the bed and picking up your book from the nightstand. "You come home every night covered in bruises and disappear out of nowhere, so forgive your girlfriend for worrying about you."

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who would rather you think that he's cheating on you than spilling his guts about being Batman. It absolutely kills him inside every single time you get misty eyed askinf if he's cheating, but he knows better than to risk your safety with the burden of knowledge.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, god forbid, if you were ever to get kidnapped due to his line of work would push you away for good. All of your stuff would be packed away before you could even calm down for the situation. He wouldn't give you a proper goodbye, either. It would be too risky for him to ever be near you again.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who would absolutely develop a nasty habit of stalking you after a separation like that. He tells himself that it's to ensure your safety when he watches you walked into your favorite coffee shop every morning, but he's having a hard time convincing himself.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who knows just how unloveable he makes himself. Every woman he has ever been with has either been put in danger because of him or left. He doesn't think he could go through something like that with you, so he instinctively pushes you away like he always has with everybody else.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, despite what he told himself about keeping his distance, finds himself knocking on your apartment door late at night. In his hands are a bottle of wine, your favorite flowers, and gold sheet-covered chocolates.

"Im sorry." His eyes are filled with utter guilt as he glances at your exhausted features. Bruce didnt even give you a chance to process that it was him at the door before he started throwing out apologies.

And the most you can really do for a moment is just look at him, your eyes not entirely focused as you stare out into space a little. "Thought you told me to stay away." You mutter softly, trying to blink the physical and mental exhaustion away.

"I..." How could he even deny that? He did, in fact, tell you to stay as far away as possible for your own safety. "I know." He continues after a moment or two. "But I'm selfish... I can't stay away. I... I want to explain a few things to you, if you'd consider letting me in.

Of course, you caved.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who can't bring himself to look you in the eyes as he explains himself and his nightly activities as Batman. He feels so guilty about ever putting you in danger in the first place, but he can't bring himself to stay away like he eventually learned to with Selina.

"I was scared." His quiet, honest response when you ask why he never chose to tell you about his double life. You want to be mad, you really do, but his fingers in your hair as he holds you against his chest after a few glasses of wine was just too good to resist.

"And you think I wasn't?" You ask softly, craning your neck to look up at him a lottle better. "I could handle the thought of you with other girls, Bruce..." You whisper, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. "But you have no idea how worried sick I was seeing those bruises every night. You have absolutely no idea how worried I was that they had gotten to you, too, when they took me."

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who lets himself get a little tipsy that night with you, which is rare because he always finds excuses not to drink to stay in peak physical condition for his duties. Neither of you drank enough to be intoxicated, but just enough for everything to feel warm and fuzzy. And enough for you to forgive him.

"So sorry, gorgeous..." He mutters between slow, lingering kisses. Despite seeming so brooding and tough, his lips are absolutely divine and you missed them more than you'd ever admit.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who ends up getting a little frisky when he's drinking. His hands are almost everywhere, no matter where you are. You were honestly thanking god that it was just the two of you relaxing in your apartment. Hell, he practically had you seeing god with how well he fucked.

"I love you so much..." His eyes are closed as his hips slowly slot into yours yet again, face buried into your shoulder. Normally, you'd be begging for a bit of a quicker and brutal pace, but everything was just too sweet to want anything else. The prolonged sliding of his cock into your weeping hole allowed for you to feel absolutely everything, including his utter adoration and love for you.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who tries to keep you away from the paparazzi as much as possible after the kidnapping. Sure, he hated the prying eyes of tabloids trying to disect your relationship before, but he was just so much more paranoid and anxious afterwards. He barely lets you out of Wayne Manor without him or somebody else in the family.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who still struggles to communicate with you, even after he's told the truth about his vigilantism. He often finds himseld lying to you without even noticing it, even about the little things like how many thugs he took down on last night's patrol. But he tries to work on it, he really does. He's started writing things down on scrap pieces of paper or notebokks that he found himself being dishonest about.

Masterlist

[whackk-kermitt]

Kisses & Bitmarks

Warning: Derek is secretly a softy, obliviously in love, mutual pinning, confessions, Stiles being a horny bitch (only a little), Scott being a dummy, Derek is still an Alpha, everyone is alive Summary: In a series of unfortunate events, Stiles finds himself with the bite of the wolf. After the shift, he needs an Alpha to coach his control. Scott is NO help AT ALL. NOT PROOFREAD

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪ "Derek, I can help."

"No, stay here."

"Derek-" Stiles grumbles as the alpha turns to scowl at him. "Scott, will you tell him I can help?"

Scott squirms where he stands just a few feet away, "I think you should stay here, dude."

"Dude," Stiles gasps hands coming up in his exasperation to slap down on his sides. "Who's side are you on?"

"A feral alpha, who has already killed and eaten four hikers, is not something that involves defenses humans."

"First, ouch. How dare you, I'm not defenseless when all of you are there. Second, I'm the one who tracked his guy down and I want to help."

"First," Derek bites back getting in his face, frustration and annoyance coming off him in waves, making his betas cower a bit. "You are defenseless which is why me, Scott, or someone else is always with you to make sure you get out alive. If you're there, their focus isn't on the extremely dangerous alpha. Second, you've already helped, so shut up, sit in your jeep, and let us kill the damn thing without you being underfoot." Derek growled through fitted teeth.

To anyone who just met Derek, they'd be pissing their pants if they were in his shoes. Derek being angry for receiving lip and getting in his face, primal growls and glowing fire in his eyes. Hell, if this was a few years ago, Stiles would be pissing himself right now.

But this is Derek, and Stiles knows Derek well enough to say that half of Derek's attitude and threats are out of love and worry. As strange as that sounds. And it is probably not any surprise, to the wolves at least, that Stiles isn't scared by his fangs and claws anymore.

His body still reacts to it, just not the way it used to.

It's hot, okay, don't judge him!

Stiles gave in, not in the mood anymore to argue, and grumbled like a pouting child. Not that he wouldn't argue the hell out of Derek, it's his favorite pastime. But he didn't wanna be around Derek when he was just intimated into arousal by him. Kind of embarrassing.

Stiles knew Derek knew, but Derek never said anything, thank god. He'd rather keep what little friendship with Derek he had than ruin it by things getting awkward. If Derek gave him the mercy of pretending he couldn't hear his heartbeat when he came into the room, or smell the on his flesh when Derek gave him the attention that excited him(sexually or otherwise). As long as Derek didn't totally hate him, he was okay.

Without another word, the wolves followed Derek and Scott into the woods to hunt this guy down.

Somehow by the magic of Stile's research skills and limited knowledge about the attacks, Stiles was able to track down the name of the alpha. He was the alpha of a modest pack residing in a town a few counties north of Beacon Hills. The pack mainly consisted of family and close friends, who Stiles found recent death certificates for. Meaning hunters likely track them down, and well. . . you know. Somewhere along the way, the alpha lost his mind, going feral.

Stiles moped in the jeep, feeling useless to the pack. He hated feeling like a damsel that needed to be protected. Derek was right, even if he didn't want to admit it. Everyone always ends up sticking by him to keep him safe when shit hits the fan, always underfoot when pressures are high. He knows it is unnecessary guilt, that he can't help being human, and the others have never really complained. At least not to his face about it.

He still feels like he could be doing more. There are benefits to him being human, pushing mountain ash, and taking care of wolvesbane obstacles the wolves can't. He just had this pit in his stomach that left him wanting to feel a part of something. He's kept around for his useful research and the benefit of his humanity, and Scott. Nothing else, and he knows it. But it’s nice to play pretend every once in a while.

His train of thought was derailed by a nasty howl echoing over the treetops. Stiles, before even thinking about it, stepped out of the jeep onto the pavement. His heart began to pound and he said a silent prayer that nobody was hurt. Although, even in his human ears, that howl didn't sound like any of the pack. They must have caught up to the alpha.

Stiles took a moment to realize that the sun had set completely, meaning he's been sitting here for at least an hour. A second howl sounded, and his head turned towards it. It sounded closer. Way closer.

The alpha was moving, and fast. Probably running away from the pack. Stiles stomach twisted at the fruition that it was coming his way. He climbed back into the jeep and thought about starting it up and moving out of the way of danger.

He struggled to fish his keys out of his pocket, panting in sudden adrenalin.

As the keys set in the transmission and turned, the jeep sputtered to life and a groan reached his ears. That didn't sound like the metallic grind and grown the old girl made when she started up, it sounded animalistic.

Terrified, stiles turned his head. He was frozen, when just outside the driver-side door was a beast that could put Peter’s alpha form to shame. Snarling and drooling at the sight of him.

Its sight is based on movement, no sudden movements.

No wait that's Jurassic Park, shit!

Before Stiles could even think, even hope for a rescue, the door was ripped away, tugging the whole jeep a few inches with it.

Claws and fangs dug into his flesh, pulling him in from the vehicle and onto the hard pavement below. The iron-tight jaw around his leg pulled back and was suddenly ripping into his abdomen.

Stiles let out a blood-curling scream, pushing away at the rabid wolf. He heard a distant howl and prayed they didn't find him in pieces.

His life flashed before his eyes; the face of his mother, father, Scott, Derek, Lydia. He cried out fearing what would happen to them when he was in the alpha's stomach.

Like hell, he was gonna be an easy meal. The bit down on the pain and scratched and punched with all this strength.

The alpha was fed up and lifted Stiles from the ground, shaking him dizzy and tossing him aside. Stiles rolled on the pavement. Landing on his stomach, his head turned to the jeep. He saw the beast standing in a pool of blood, a trail leading the the blood that began to pool under him. His vision began to cloud, and his senses were fading. He heard the alpha sniff and growl, then heavy footsteps coming closer. He couldn't move.

His eyes grew heavy and everything went dark and numb.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When Stiles woke up he was in his bed. His mind was foggy from sleep. The only thing he knew was he had to pee. He stumbled out of bed, shuffling to the door and into the hall.

He had only half a mind to notice the voices of this father and Scott downstairs. Groggy and still so unaware of the events last night.

After relieving himself, he turned to wash his hands. He felt his heart jump at the sight of blood under his nails, looking at himself in the mirror it all came flooding bad to him.

The monster alpha, the teeth, the claws.

He lifted his shirt looking down to where his life was bleeding out of him at one point. His eyes found his own again and they glowed a bright gold. He panted and collapsed against the wall.

No, no no no, this can't be happening. He didn't want this.

"Stiles," He heard Scott's voice. He zeroed in on the sounds and smells in the house. The fan in his dad's room buzzing softly, the coffee on the kitchen table where he was sure his father and Scott had just been, the heartbeats standing at the bottom of the stairs, the soft creak in the third step as someone began coming up.

The next thing that assaulted his senses was the revolting smell of Scott.

"Stay away!" Stiles panicked as he felt claws pushing out at his fingertips, and fangs drop into place in his mouth. He felt a wave of uncertainty, displeasure, and fear. The footsteps on the stairs stopped and he sighed looking around in panic.

He felt the instinct to run, run where he didn't know. The animalistic instinct in him told him to run just as it told him to breathe. Something in Scott's scent made him feel unsettled and afraid.

"Stiles, we've been through this before, remember? You taught me to control it." He hears Scott sigh and even his soft nervous gulp. "Find your anchor, tie yourself to it."

Stiles nodded, knowing Scott or his father couldn't see it. He focused on his father, his scent, and his heartbeat. He smelled his aftershave and cologne, the coffee on his breath, the gunpowder and detergent on his hands. He listened to his erratic heart and how it beat quickly with worry and fear.

"Stiles," Scott tested softly, bearly a whisper that Stiles could hear as clear as day. "You need to calm down."

"Not helping!" Stiles snapped, voice slurred through the fangs he wasn't used to having. Something in him pushed a defensive growl from his throat. Realizing what he was doing only a second later he let out an apologetic whimper.

Stiles wondered why it was his body, his wolf, that hated Scott's scent so much, and why it made him feel so sick. Why Scott's comforting voice in his ears made him feel so volatile and angry. He needed to get away from it, it made him feel scared.

He remembered something Derek had said to the others about the instinct of a wolf always being in your best interest. Even if it is something you can't follow through with, acknowledge the instinct and consider it.

If his wolf needed to get away then he will. He stood quickly and dashed to his room, following the wolf's lead. He trusted it entirely.

"Stiles?" Scott cried coming up the stairs.

"Son?" The panic and confusion in his father's voice made him whime, but he couldn't control himself right now. His father's safety was always his top priority.

He let the wolf take him through the window, and jumped down into the side yard, b-linding the woods behind his house. He didn't know where he was going, but just needed to get away from Scott.

Fully shifted, he ran faster than he ever had before. Heart thumping and pounding in his ears. He smelled the woods, the dirt under his bare feet, the pine and oak, the musk of the animals that lingered, and the petricore like never before. He felt the wind on his face and smiled. If this is what he was missing out on this whole time maybe he should've asked for the bite sooner.

His feet slowed on their own, and he realized where he was. A few blocks from Derek's loft! He'd run that far that fast?

He picked his pace back up and ran like hell. If this is where his wolf wanted to be, this is where he would be.

Skipping a step at a time he made his way up, too much energy to sit around waiting for the elevator.

"What do you mean he's gone?" He hears Derek growl. There was a power in the growl that made his wolf purr. "You were supposed to talk to him, coach him through the shift!"

"Derek!" He called.

"He's here." He said, tone as though he didn't believe it. "No, stay there, if he's agitated, I'll deal with it. No one needs to get hurt.

Stiles flung open the door watching Derek strolling down the stairs and putting his phone away in his pocket. Derek slowly and cautiously approached, eyes concerned.

"I hated it." Stiles panted lightly. He felt a need for Derek to understand what was happening, to guide him on what to do.

"Hated what?"

"Scott," Stiles sighed stepping fully into the loft. "His scent, his voice telling me to calm down. It made me afraid and angry. The wolf just wanted to run away, and I tried to fight it and get control like Scott was telling me but it just made it worse. God, I wanted to rip his throat out with my teeth! Huh, I sound like you now. And I- I remembered you telling Erica and the guys about the wolf's instincts and how you should always trust it, so I jumped out of my window. Oh, god, wow, I jumped out a window! I didn't even think, I-nothing broke. Or maybe it healed? I don't know, but I started running, and I ended up here. Derek," He took a breath, eyes glossy. "What do I do?"

Derek just stared at him for a long moment.

"Derek?" Stiles's voice was soft now, his breathing slowing to normal.

Derek's heartbeat was fast, his eyes searched Stiles for a moment before he looked away with a thoughtful expression for a moment.

"I-" He huffed. "I thought Scott would be your alpha."

"He isn't?"

"Not if you wanted to rip his throat out when he asked you to calm down."

"Huh." Stiles nodded. "That makes sense."

Derek chuckled dryly.

"Wow," Stiles sighed taking a deep breath. "You smell good. You always smell this good? Is it the new nose?"

Derek sighed, face falling. Like Stiles had disappointed him somehow. His wolf whined in the back of his mind.

'Please the alpha.'

He gulped and frowned a little.

"Did I do something wrong? You can't get mad at me dude, I'm new to this."

"No, you just-" He cut himself off.

"Come on Derek, I'm kind of relying on you completely here." Stiles stepped closer and Derek stepped back. Stiles's eyes began to water and he didn't know why. He felt alone and pitiful all of a sudden.

Derek watched his reaction curiously.

"What are you feeling?" He asked hesitantly like he didn't really want to know the answer. "Your instincts, what do you want? What is your wolf telling you you need?" He clarified.

"I-" Stiles stubbled back and frowned, a tear running down his cheek. His wolf's howls in the back of his mind made him each with the feeling he just lost something. "To be close to you. But I feel cold, lonely, all of a sudden."

Derek blinked a couple times and tilted his head down, just slightly.

"I feel alone, I feel-" Stiles stopped, not knowing the words that could describe it.

"Stiles," He spoke gently like his voice could crack Stiles into a million pieces if he spoke loud enough. "Don't think about the works, just the feeling. The words will come to you, trust the wolf."

Stiles curled in on himself for a bit before letting his eyes fall to the floor. He stood still, focusing on the cold feeling in his chest. The wolf whined and whimpered like a dying animal in the face of a predator.

'Rejected. Omega.'

"Rejected and omega come to mind." His voice barely broke from his throat.

Derek's breath hitched in his throat, looking at Stiles with an indescribable intensity.

"Please the alpha."

"Stiles," Derek's voice was hoarse as he was willing it to say something it didn't want to. "You-" He stopped himself again.

"Derek, what do I do?" Stiles didn't understand why he started crying, he felt too senseless despite all the new strength in his body.

"I," Derek paused. "I don't want you to think this is anything more than an alpha and beta relationship. I think it's maybe best if you called Sc-"

"What?" Stiles looked up at him. He felt anger and confusion seep into him. "You want to reject me as your beta be-because I like you?"

Derek shuddered for a moment. "I didn't say that, I-"

"Said we're only alpha and beta, yeah I got that," Stiles growled. "I figured you never said anything 'cause you didn't want things to be awkward between us, I get it- I'm not the most appealing candidate, but this is so much fucking worse, Derek. This is fucking petty."

"Stiles." Derek warned.

"I don't know what I'm doing!"Stiles cried. "I'm scared, I need you to guide me-help me! I know you don't care the way I care, I'm fine with that," He ignored the blip in his heart. "I can be just your friend, I have been and it was fine, but I need you-"

"Stiles," Derek's eyes widened as he looked him over, drinking in the confession. "What is it you want from me?"

"Help!" Stiles snapped like it was obvious because he thought it was. "I-"

"No," Derek shook his head, daring a few steps forward. "Not what I meant. Forget the wolves, just you and me. What do you want with me?"

Stiles gulped, nervous and scared of more rejection.

"You." He shrugged, he was tired all of a sudden.

"Stiles," Derek pleased, a look in his eye that made him swoon. "Please, don't beat around the bush."

"I want-" He hesitated, afraid. "I want to be with you."

Derek, stepped closer, a look in his eye that made Stiles twitchy.

"I want to, sit and talk about stupid shit that doesn't matter. I want to argue over Batman versus Superman. I want to argue over what movie to watch. I want you to meet my dad- like actually. Not just talking to him about how to deal with the monster of the week. I want you to hold me as we fall asleep. I want you-"

Derek was kissing him.

His hands cupped his cheeks and drew him closer, breathing him in. Stiles melted into it, calming all his nerves in a single second.

His wolf purred as it took in the scent and feel of his alpha's body against his.

Stiles pawed and his chest and followed his lips and he pulled away.

Derek chuckled, low and happy watching him. Stiles opened his eyes and looked up into Dereks.

"Wh-"

"I thought it was just sexual." Derek frowns for a moment. "If I had known you wanted more I-" He sighed. "Still probably wouldn't have done anything."

"Why not?" Stiles grumbled in slight offense. Although part of him, knowing how Derek had been used in the past, made him feel guilty for it having seemed that way. Even though he thought everything was blatantly obvious and that was never his intention.

" You're seventeen, and your fathers the sheriff." He blinked plainly.

"Oh," Stiles chuckled awkwardly. "Right."

"I'm sorry," Derek wavered.

"So you'll be my alpha?"

"Yeah."

"And. . maybe my mate."

Derek gave him a pointed stare.

"What?" Stiles frowned. "Isn't that just wolfie talk for dating?"

"No," Derek laughed, honest to god laughed. Stile thought he would faint. "No, It's more like marriage- with a lot of sex."

"Well, in that case," Stiles smirked, earning an eye-roll. "All that's can wait a year."

Derek laughed again.

"Yeah, sure." He nodded. "We'll see how it goes."

Stiles broke into a wide grin, jumped up flinging his arms around Derek and breathing in his scent. Stiles took note of the woodsy smell, the lavender, dirt, leather, and rich cologne pressed into his flesh. He decided it was his new favorite, and the wolf agreed.

"You're never getting rid of me now!"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Derek held tighter.

Stiles smelled something sour all of a sudden, "What's wrong?"

"You're quick to pick up on things, aren't you." Derek hummed on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked more firmly as the scent became stronger.

"When I heard you scream, I thought- I found you," Derek paused to take a breath. Move his hand to his shoulder to feel his heart beating. "I thought we were too late."

"You could hear my heart beating though, right?"

"Didn't mean you'd make it through the night. You bled so much." Derek sniffled. "I thought it would be safer for you to stay behind and wait for us, but-"

"You couldn't have known."

"Doesn't matter." He mumbled, "I thought I lost you.

"Der,"

"Safe to say you're sticking with me from now on."

Stiles chuckled at that. He held tighter and literally purred. Which made Derek shudder closer humming in contentment.

"You're a tough son of a bitch though. Even as a human, you made it easy for us to kill the bastard."

"What?" Stiles pulled back to look him in the eye.

"How much do you remember?" Stiles shrugged trying to think, It was all kind of a blur to him now. "You scratched the hell out of his face. Eyes, ears. The only thing that wasn't fucked up by the time we got there was his nose."

"He didn't heal?"

"Didn't have time before I ripped his throat out." Stiles laughed, the irony of it all made his wolf preen for the man who lost his shit to protect him. "You had his eyeball in your hand when we got to you. Scratched it out."

"Holy shit!"

"If you weren't actively dying at the time I would've had time to feel proud," Derek smirked, and Stiles felt weak in the knees.

Derek chuckled pressing closer.

"So no sex obviously no sex for a while- taking things slow and all," He mused. "But, like, how about another smooch?"

Derek grins leaning in to oblige.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"You and Derek what?" Scott cried, eyes wide as if he honestly;y had no fucking clue.

"Finally." The rest of the room groaned in unison.

"I was gonna hit you if you didn't make a move soon." Lydia rolled her eyes at him.

Stiles just smiled, looking over at Derek who smiled back with a wink. ≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

•Kermitts Masterlist•

[starryschoolgirl]

Good Husbandry

Summary -> While you view preparing for your honeymoon as finding all the hottest destinations in Honolulu for tourists, Elvis knows that he must help you, his soon-to-be virgin bride, understand all that comes with the honeymoon. What a good man he is, to give you a little hands-on lesson on what good husbandry is.

Warnings -> Lovely domestic things, innocence/purity kink, religious undertones, smut, just the tip trope, hinted breeding kink, swearing, Elvis gets a little rough, mention of RFK's assassination, the reader is overbearingly sheltered when it comes to topics like sex, cum eating, fantasies of "ruining" a girl's vagina, there's definitely some plot here I won't lie, loved writing this a little too much.

WC -> 7.3k

A/N -> This is an installation of the Baby Love AU. Find Masterlist Here!

The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotion for everyone. Elvis was doing press conferences for the NBC special he was about to start filming for, and while you usually go with him, with the recent assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, it was decided unanimously that it would be best if you were at home.

Elvis would have liked to keep you by his side, but given your family’s public connection to the Kennedys he knew that the press might behave in an uncalled for manner toward you.

It was also to be noted that he’d been very patient with you the entire week, after all you did know the man. He was a close family friend, a lot closer to your father, mother, and older brother than you. But there were still tears shed a few nights ago when it had occurred.

Most of that week you sat around the current California home, keeping the couch company like you were the prettiest of pillows as you spent most of your time on the telephone with your hysterical mother and being soothed by your childhood nanny who now watched your younger brother. You’d decided to write a letter to Ethel, she was no doubt being bombarded with phone calls from press and other family with the recent death of her husband. 

It was a rough way to start the month, it was only 6 days into June when something as tragic as that had occurred. 

You were certain things would change in regards to the guest list of your wedding just a little over a week away, for one you could understandably count on the possible absence of Ethel Kennedy and her children. Aside from her it wasn’t Elvis’ side you were worried about, because when Elvis says jump they all say “how high?”. It was your own side that worried you.

You knew it was selfish and stupid to be thinking of that at a time like this, those poor Kennedys have been through so much. But you couldn’t help the worrisome thoughts that lingered in your mind. Your parents already didn’t approve of Elvis all that much, with the influx of emotion that this event caused they might just cancel all together and then you’ll be left without anyone from your own family.

And that alone could cause an emotional storm to brew in Elvis. He always expressed his own disdain for your family, but you knew there was guilt deep down that he felt. And if he realized that he were the reason your wedding day went without family, he would be angry with you and himself. But that was only because he felt things very deeply, he was caring in that way.

So you made sure the past few days to get in as much reading as possible, so that even if your wedding doesn’t end up being the dream you hoped for, that your knowledge of your honeymoon destination would make up for it.

It had to be perfect. You had to be perfect.

"We better get up and get changed soon..."

You hummed absently at Elvis' words as your eyes continued to skim along the page.

"Wouldn't want the rest of the boys seein' ya in ya nightie"

You hummed once more at whatever he had said, much too focused on your book to pay much mind. Elvis noticed this and laughed softly as he asked,

"What are ya readin' Honey?"

You looked up from the book that you had been enthralled in for the past half-hour to see Elvis staring at you over one of his religious books, he had a crooked smile and a quirked eyebrow, his facial expression likely from the fact that you were actually reading a book.

You smiled cheekily and crawled closer to him on the bed, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you quickly card your floral bookmark in between the pages you were on before closing it and presenting it to Elvis, your fiancé.

"It's a book all about Hawaii, it has some of the best secret locations on all the islands, including Oahu"

You smiled up at him as his eyes scrolled to look over at you then at the book, a smirk playing on his lips as he did so. He set his book down on his lap to grab yours, one of his fingers tracing over the cover as he murmured honestly,

"Well Babylove, I don't think these locations are all too secret anymore considerin' the book is 7 years old"

You hummed softly at the statement. Truthfully you only picked the book off the shelf because one, it said Hawaii which is the place you and Elvis were planning to be your honeymoon destination, and secondly, it was pink.

Elvis shook his head fondly and brought a hand up to ruffle your hair, thankfully at the moment there were no rings on his fingers to pluck and pull at the strands of your hair. With that in mind you happily leaned into the touch like a cat getting its fix from its owner.

You roll your body closer, dragging one leg over Elvis' legs as if he were one of those long body pillows. You snuggled your face into his chest, feeling the silky fabric of his short ascot scarf. He'd recently begun wearing them often, you didn't mind it because you could tug him by his scarf whenever you wanted a kiss.

Your voice was soft and murmured into the fabric, "I wanna start our marriage off right, our honeymoon has to be perfect, and this book,”

You pull back for a moment to grab the book and open it to the first page. Elvis watches with an amused smile as your dainty little finger flies across the dust-colored pages to the sentence that you read aloud,

"These spots will guarantee a sweet time with that special someone"

Elvis’ voice is laced with harmless sarcasm (that you don’t quite catch) as he says,

“Oh well if the book says so, it has to be true”

You then excitedly close the book and show Elvis the back cover, where a quote from what must've been a review was laid out in bold, "Has the hottest places for America’s hottest honeymoon destination"

Elvis laughed softly. His arm wraps around your shoulder as his hand runs up and down your back, calluses grazing the delicate fabric of your satin nightie with a scratching sound before taking its rest on the curve of your ass. He explains, "Well little one, there's a bit more to honeymoons and marriage than that"

Your eyebrow quirks in the way you learned from watching Elvis' own eyebrow within the span of your relationship. It looked as if you were suspicious of Elvis, thinking he was trying to pull the wool over your eyes.

With a gentle hand Elvis removed the book from your hand and set it on the nightstand where he then set his own book on as well. You laughed softly as Elvis’ hands pulled you into your place, till you straddled his lap innocently for him to explain something,

“Well Babylove, a big part of marriage and honeymoonin’ is good husbandry.”

You go silent for a second, thinking to yourself as your fingers trace little shapes on Elvis’ chest absentmindedly. When you come to the conclusion that you’re clueless on the subject you ask,

“What’s husbandry?”

Elvis’ hands run along your sides, running up to your ribs, down to your hips, then repeating their cycle, it was in his own absentmindedness that he did it as he explained,

“Well, husbandry is kind of cultivatin’ and makin’ use of land, sorta like plantin’ a seed and takin’ care of it.”

“Like farmers do?”

“Very good girl, like farmers do. Now ya see, that comes into play within things like marriage and honeymoons. To be a farmer, the first thing ya gotta do is plant a seed, then ya get your farm goin’ and everythin’ is just dandy as long as you keep takin’ care of that seed.”

You nodded your head along to what he was saying, it made sense. But what did that have to do with your honeymoon?

“Just as that goes, to be a husband, you also gotta plant a seed. So ya see, in marriage, instead of a farmer plantin’ a seed, it’s the husband who plants the seed, and he plants it right in your petals”

You grimaced with embarrassment as you heard Elvis mention your “petals”. Such talk was still very new to you. Having been raised by the church most of your life, and having only attended catholic private schools, you’d been taught that such talk was deplorable and vulgar. 

Elvis seemed to be trying to undo all their teaching as he was very free and open with topics such as that one.

He could see the way your face began to dust a precious pink along your cheeks as you stared down at your hands scrunching up his shirt’s fabric within them. He couldn’t help but adore his sweet girl and lift your chin to take in the entirety of your innocence, the privilege of being innocent and naive having been fed to you with a silver spoon since you were a baby with your family’s fortune.

Your education didn’t span too far, it was done under the assumption that you’d be protected from the roughness of the world, the riff-raff. And though Elvis was a fair match monetarily-wise to your parents and the people you were raised around,with enough money to keep you as far away from the world’s roughness as possible, he was still considered to be in that riff-raff crowd.

Oh, what a shame for your family and the rest of your upper-class culture to have a rare purity, like you whisked away from your family made up of good breeding and a pure bloodline by a man like Elvis who would screw it all up when he one day planted his seed into your womb, making your once purebred French bloodline his own as he mixed himself into the history of your DNA to make a child that you will carry for months.

A child you will love to no end while your ancestors roll over in their graves.

Just the thought of it all made Elvis giddy.

His smile is cheeky as he grabs one of your nervous hands to soothe you while also keeping a grip on your chin with his other hand, his voice is breathy from speaking through a laugh,

“Now don’t let me lose ya, still got some splainin’ to do”

You can’t help but continue to duck your head away into your shoulder to hide your embarrassment, till Elvis pulls you out of it with his sweet little nickname for you,

“C’mon now Bubbles, need ya to keep listenin’ f’me”

You look up to meet those dark blues of Elvis’ that pierce with a strange softness.

“To seal the marriage a man plants his seed in a woman, and from then on he has to take care of that woman, that’s good husbandry. That’s part of what happens on a honeymoon. Understand?”

You nod slowly, and mumble a soft, “I understand”, before laying yourself down on Elvis, making yourself comfortable as you lay your head against his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso, somehow squeezing their way between Elvis' frame and the mattress.

Marriage seemed scary. Ever since you had gotten engaged to Elvis you felt a different weight begin to fall on your shoulders. And though you were excited to marry Elvis, you couldn’t help but remember how your mother described marriage to be with your father.

As Elvis dragged his hands along your body tracing every poke of a bone through your skin he closed his eyes, showing his affection through the action, you thought back to how marriage was represented to you as a little girl.

There were nights when your father stayed late for work that you’d sit on the floor between your mother's legs as she sat on the sofa, by then she would be nursing her 4th glass of wine that night, and let her braid your hair before bed.

You’d whimper softly as her diamond-littered gaudy engagement ring, which was comparable to the one you now owned, would catch on some strands of your hair. But you wouldn’t voice any complaint as she was too busy voicing her own, complaining to an 8-year-old you about your father’s “wandering eye”, how he loves work more than he loves his family, and that he can’t even function without a pill, in what sense she meant “function” you’d never know, because you only saw your father as a personal superhero. The man who would bring gifts like Santa, the man who would read you to bed on the rare nights he could, the man who held the whole world in his hand every time he held you.

You didn’t recognize the man your mother would drunkenly describe. And soon after you wouldn’t recognize your own mother as she would break into tears and talk about how it’s her fault, and that she knows it all falls on her to make the marriage work, she just needs to try harder.

You’d caress her knee and try to soothe the adult, “It’s okay Mommy”, while mustering up the courage to promise her that, “It’ll be okay”

And then at the end of the night, she would turn you around and slur with as much affection as she could muster,

“Always tend to your husband Sweetie, don’t make a prude of yourself like me, don’t make a nagging wife, be pleasant and pliant and you’ll be a happy wife”

Of course you weren’t married yet, and that might’ve been what was causing you to be such a worrywart, because you were scared of the unknown. That’s why you’ve been trying your best to find ways to start the marriage off in the best way possible.

But you now had a whole other thing to worry about perfecting, husbandry. 

It would all work out though, as long as you heed your mother’s words and be a pleasant, pliant wife, you’ll be just fine, and you’re confident that Elvis would never turn out to be the kind of husband that your mother described your father to be.

You mumbled into the fabric of Elvis’ shirt,

“How does a man plant his seed in a woman?”

Elvis’ hands came to a halt at your words. He thought he’d gone over this kind of thing with you before, then again there was never much need to. You never prodded for more than you were given, because you were simply unaware there was more you could get out of the pleasures of your body.

Elvis stared down at the top of your head as you kept your cheek resting on his chest, he realized how abstract your thoughts must’ve been compared to his within your relationship. He had spent countless nights holding himself back from making you his completely, there were so many times he easily could’ve done so. So many times you put yourself in the position to be vulnerable to the disgusting thought of a man who knew the pleasures you could give.

Had Elvis been a different man he would’ve done so by now, taken you shamelessly and left you crumpled on the floor next to your crumpled up clothes.

But he’d be reigned back by the thought that God wouldn’t make something like you, something so pure and holy, for sin. Had Elvis not been a god-fearing man he would’ve had his way with you.

All those nights he spent eating you out, listening to you finally break that voice box of yours in, the only thing he’d thought about was how much louder you would be when he could finally fuck you, meanwhile you thought that the sensation guided by Elvis’ tongue that momentarily blinded you was as good as it got, was as close as you’d get to God.

Oh Elvis could show you so much more, teach you so much more, touch you so much more. And as shameful as it is, he’d be a liar if he said that the fact that he wanted to be the one deflower you didn’t play a role in your engagement.

“I could show ya how it’s done Honey, would ya be alright with that? It’s a little different from anything we’ve ever done”

You sat up on his lap and nodded as you kept a hand to support yourself up on his stomach. He basked in the sight of you with a small smile, digging his hands through your hair like roots in the dirt, so deep and entangled it could be hard to tell where your hair began and his hands ended.

It wasn’t at all painful in the way your mother’s hands used to rest in your hair during her drunken stupor.

It was gentle as Elvis always was.

He used a gentle force to pull you close enough for him to press a kiss to your forehead for a moment and hold it there, you closed your eyes and let out a breath, any stiff stress in your body leaving at the touch of Elvis’ lips.

He pulled away, lips and hands.

“Lay down Baby”

Elvis patted your side of the bed and you quickly laid down as you usually would, and with a quick fwip of his hips Elvis’ knees rested just outside your thighs, his entire body hovering above yours as he reached over to your nightstand.

You heard the clink of glass, no doubt the two glass figurines you’d had since you were a child, your voice was soft but panicked as you felt a pang of protectiveness over your childhood trinkets.

“W-What are you doing?”

His response was immediate as he knew your sentimental feelings toward your figurines,

“It’s alright Honey, jus’ turnin’ Dottie and Lottie around”

“Oh.”

You let out a sigh of relief before having a blush spread like a wildfire in the summer across your cheeks. When Elvis had first touched you, you felt the need to turn your glass figurines Dolores and Charlotte, also known as Dottie and Lottie, around before he could continue any further. When he asked you why you could only mumble a quiet explanation about wanting to preserve their innocence. Elvis didn’t mind the strange gesture, he thought it was rather cute actually, it was something so girlish and sweet, something he’d never think of, it further instituted that you really were an endearing little girl.

And ever since then anytime Elvis touched you, he’d always turn your figurines toward the wall for you. And him doing it now meant that to plant his seed in you, he had to touch you.

You close your eyes as you relax into the mattress completely, and feel a shift in the bed then the cold air began to linger up your nightie, or rather Elvis made your nightie linger up your skin, giving way for him to view the cutely contrasting color of your pastel yellow panties to your pastel blue short satin nightie.

As the bed shifted a little more you allowed Elvis to part your legs so he could slide off the piece of fabric, his hands caressing the skin of your ankles a few seconds longer than the rest of your leg, and then he intricately removed your panties off your feet he laid them on the outside of your thigh, within arm's length.

You assumed what you’d be feeling next was what you always felt whenever he touched you, those calloused fingers of his walking their way up your thighs as he made himself comfortable right between the two limbs, his mouth and nose inches away from that bundle of nerves that he so lovingly explained was the bud of your little rose. 

His fingers would then drift down to what he called the petals of your rose, separating them gently, exposing your hole to the cold air of the room making you shiver like the scared little girl you were as he did so. But he liked it, liked how visceral all your reactions were from your inexperience.

Only this time, you’d been wrong as you heard the familiar shink of his belt, and as if you were a trained dog and his belt were a clicker, your eyes shot open as you knew what that sound meant. It meant you got to do the touching, but, why were your panties off if you were doing the touching?

As you sat up you saw Elvis shucking his pants and boxers down, you watched with a blush as you saw his dick, it wasn’t yet completely hard, it more so at half-staff if anything, with that it maintained enough loose skin so that the usual image of his veins bulging profusely through the thin skin was not a sight you’d yet see, but you could change that.

As you sat up with your legs still spread enough so that Elvis once he was free of his pants was able to swiftly kneel between them. You leaned forward with an eager hand but Elvis had caught your wrist before you’d made it to your target, you batted your eyelashes up at him in confusion.

“Elvis?”

He had a crooked smile on his lips and asked, “Don’t ya remember what ya gotta do first? C’mon Hon we’ve been over this a dozen times”. You had to think for a moment but felt flushed with embarrassment at your own mistake.

Elvis’ eyebrow ticked upward as he caught your realization, then he slowly raised your hand up to your mouth for you to lick a stripe along it. When he didn’t immediately pull away you knew to keep lapping at the skin till Elvis saw it suitable.

His head tilted down a little as he made eye-contact with you through the cracks of your fingers, staring at you as you licked lines of wet along the lines of your palm, he was mumbling a praise or too like “There ya go”, and “Just like that”. You only shut your mouth as his free hand came up to cup your cheek and gently push you back from your hand.

With your newfound view of his cock it definitely looked less limp than before but Elvis had taught you how to get it standing, and you wanted to show him that you could. He’d been loosening the reins lately and had been giving you more independence to touch him in the way you knew he liked. But at the perfect moments he’d step in and be a helping hand, wrapping his much larger hand around yours as he showed you what kind of pace he liked when his dick twitched a specific way.

It was him helping you build this muscle memory that was slowly etching its way into your brain, on the walls of your skull, and in the nerves of your hand

With the softest of groans leaving Elvis’ mouth your eyes shot up from his cock that maintained the attention of your palm, wanting to see his face, see the preview of your own triumph as you continued to stroke with the pace his hand guided yours along.

His smile was gone as his mouth twisted slightly to let out the low noise, he licked his lips quickly and tightened his hold on your hand, in turn tightening your hold on his cock as he ran your palm up and down it, your voice was hesitant and soft as you questioned, “L-Like that Elvis? I do it like that…”

He hummed an affirmation and mumbled, “Keep at it”, before pulling his hand off yours, leaning back on the bed on his palms while watching you with lowered lids, had they been any lower they would’ve been closed.

You tried shuffling yourself closer by planting your heels into the mattress and scooting yourself closer, but it was hard to focus on both things. You didn’t want to louse up what a good job you were doing, but you felt you could do better if you were just a little closer.

Elvis must’ve read your inner turmoil as he leaned off his palms and cupped the back of your knees with each hand, pulling you closer at the top of your calves where they connected with your thighs. As you continued with your strokes you noticed how close you now were, your bare pussy had never been so close to Elvis’ cock.

With the realization a strange curiosity shot through you, a kind of curiosity that had filled your senses one of the first times you’d sat on Elvis’s lap. He kept you on one knee easily, and it had been the leg that he often bounced absentmindedly, and as he easily bounced you on his leg you felt a weird sensation, and that damned curiosity of yours got the best of you subtly shifted on his leg, and suddenly the jumbling of your legs on his knee had shifted to a jumbling on a small bundle of nerves between your legs.

No you wouldn’t let your curiosity get the best of you again, you wouldn’t.

As Elvis pulled his hands away from your legs he leaned back on one palm and the other he reached forward to rub that very bundle of nerves you’d just been thinking of about. Just the slightest bit of force made your body react with what could be described as a convulsion as you breathed out a noise of surprise.

Elvis’ almost dazed look on his face didn’t shift as he glided his calloused thumb down between your folds, scooping up whatever was beginning to wet them, then using it as a lubricant to give your clit a good rub down, his facial expression unwavering as he watched you twitch and struggle to focus on doing a good job.

His voice was low and almost sounded slurred as he mumbled,

“Now this is hard ain’t it Honey? Tryin’ to pleasure each other at the same time?”

Your face shrunk and your lip quivered as you tried to maintain that you wouldn’t break under the sensations of it all, wanting to do good.

Upon gaining no answer Elvis’ eyes glazed up to meet yours, they now shifted to sympathy as he reassured you gently with little circles of his thumb around your bud,

“It’s alright Baby, I know it. I know it’s hard, that’s why through marriage a man can plant his seed in a woman, makes it easier y’know? A man can help you while he helps himself, ya shouldn’t have t’be doin’ work Honey”

You don’t know when you started nodding along to his words, you hardly understood them, but the way his eyebrows arched, the way his lips curled, the way his voice drew out, he seemed like he knew everything in the world. He was so in his element that you wouldn’t question it if he told you a cat were a dog.

But you had to ask, through your soft pants and whimpers, “H-how?” How was it possible to both be pleasured at the same time? How was it possible for both of you to reach that special spot just between the earth and the heavens where all felt impossibly right?

Elvis’ lips grew to a smirk once more as he removed his thumb from your clit and his hand wrapped around yours to pull you away. As you looked down you saw that familiar sight, that thin skin stretched out to show that long vein that started at the side of his dick and traveled down the center.

His other hand ran up your calf, to your thigh just to rest on your stomach, still covered by the top of your satin nightie, and with a firm force and a, “Lie back f’me” you were laid down on the bed with your legs spread.

He spread them a little further, and you watched as best you could while still laying down, craning your neck painfully to see what he was doing as he made a ring out of his thumb and index finger.

Elvis’ eyes met with yours, making sure you were watching before lining the tip of his cock up with the little makeshift hole he made of his fingers for demonstration.

“When a man plants his seed, he fills you with himself. This right here,” He lifted the little ring he’d made of two fingers, “This is like that little hole between your petals, so what I’m gonna do is fill it just slightly,” he slid the ring over the tip of his cock, leaving you to watch with a mouth slightly agape as his movement stretches the foreskin.

It’s not like when you stroke him though, he stops much too short, and doesn’t even go near the base of his cock, he ends at the base of the tip only.

“Now, this much is just till the wedding Hon. We can only do just the tippy top Baby, can’t break ya in just yet, we gotta wait till we’re unified under God to make that kinda connection-”

“...cause it’s special”

Elvis looked up at you, surprised to hear your soft voice so suddenly, it seems the words left your mouth with a little thoughtful pout. God, let this man hold back today. Let him be graceful and kind to his babylove, Elvis thought to himself as he smiled softly and hummed, 

“Yes it is sweet girl, it’s somethin’ special”

As a moment of sweet silence filled the air the two of you made eye contact, you smiled, feeling unsure of what was to come, he smiled back knowingly.

“Are ya ready Babylove?”

You bit your lower lip nervously and could only nod with trusting eyes. Elvis’ figure suddenly shut out most of the light from the ceiling as he supported his body above yours with one hand while he used his other to line up the tip of his cock.

You let out a shaky breath as he parted your fold with the tip of his cock before running it along your leaking slit. From the bottom up past the top till he hit that bundle of nerves that he could find with a blindfold. You squeaked softly at the bit of force he was using to circle your clit with his cock.

Elvis swore he’d do everything with you in mind, but as he watched the way your big eyes would crinkle to little bouts of eyelid folds and as he saw the way your lip quiver with every squeak and breath you let out, he couldn’t help himself but gauge your reaction to a little something.

Your breaths came out one by one in panic as you suddenly felt the tip of his cock begin to bat around your little bundle of nerves from the top, from side to side, even attacking from the bottom. Your eyes shot open from their little crinkles of stress and just before you could open your mouth his little batting around of your sensitive bud turned to slowed drawn out circles rubbing along the edge.

“That feels good huh Honey? It’s gonna get even better, just need ya to relax. Uh huh, that’s good, you’re doin’ good”

You relaxed into it, your jaw falling slack and your breaths coming out shallow. As you sank into that warmth that always accompanied Elvis’ gentle touch, Elvis pulled his neck back slightly to get a better look at your hole, with your folds parted he had a perfect view if he could look past his cock. He craned his neck a little to the left and found the target, wide open from your relaxed state, he licked his thumb to lubricate it and like a veteran, he navigated his cock down and at the forefront of it as his thumb took its place and pace in circling your clit, had you not been watching through lidded eyes you wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Here it come Baby, here it come”

Elvis couldn’t even look at you to gauge your reaction as his head fell back immediately as he was engulfed by your heat. Somewhere in the distance he heard a high-pitched noise but he was too high on the feeling- No, the knowledge that the first thing to fill you, to really fill you was his uncut cock’s head.

He breathed out to the ceiling, or rather to the Lord,

“Fuck…”

How could a feeling like this fill his mind, body, and soul from just the tip going in. Shit if he hadn’t already proposed to you he would do it now, just so he could one day feel the full effect of your body on his.

And then he finally peered down at you, and you were a sight to behold. He hadn’t been with a virgin in a long time, and the ones he had been with, you made them look like the most experienced girls in the world.

Your face was crumpled and your clenched fist was brought up to your mouth, you bit down so hard on your knuckles Elvis could see the skin losing its color around your little teeth. His hand slid down to your hip, running along the skin soothingly, as he hummed out, “Relax, it’s alright, just relax”

You nodded and pulled your fist from your mouth to show you were relaxing, but as your lower lip trembled Elvis could only softly remind, “Relax…”

And after a few moments of Elvis running his hands along your hips you spoke in an unsure whisper, “I-Is that it?”, Elvis sighed with a smile, “No Hon, don’t worry, but I can’t show ya the rest till ya relax, alright?” Elvis could feel you tightly around him, if he tried to pull the head of his cock back out he’d hurt you, he knew that.

"I-I am relaxed"

“No ya not Babylove”

You sighed softly, feeling a bit frustrated, this wasn’t what you thought it would be, it hurt. And it was obvious that you weren’t acting in the most pleasing way, so you lied through your teeth with a bit of an edge to your quiet words, “I’m relaxed.”

Elvis’ soft smile fell slightly at the tone of voice, and his eyebrows rose as he stared down at you, only now you avoided eye contact and opted to look at the wall. You tried to focus on the paint of the wall as best you can but it was thrown out the door as you felt a painful pull.

You whined at the feeling, and watched as Elvis pulled out, now you attempted to look him in the eye but he didn’t even spare you a glance as he muttered before lining himself up again, “Call that fuckin’ relaxed? If you’re so relaxed it should be easy goin’ back in”

Before you could voice an apology he’d already shoved the tip back in. It was much rougher than the first time he had put it in, it had you release a loud whimper and kick your feet, your heels pushing you away from his body, but his hips only chased further.

And those hands that were soothingly rubbing along your hips earlier now had them in a bruising grip to keep you from moving.

“Said ya relaxed, so fuckin’ act like it-”

Elvis let out a low groan as he stroked his cock while your little hole contracted from the stress of it all, it was like you were trying to swallow him, trying to suck him down into you. Almost like your body knew you needed his seed. And had he been a different man, or more accurately, had you been a different girl, he would’ve given it to you without shame. But you were different, you were special, you made this special.

He pulled out once more just to push back in, and then he repeated with no time in between, leaving you gasping at the rough push and pull of his cock head and whining at it, before blubbering out a series of apologies to him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, ‘m not relaxed..! I-It hurts Elvis..!”

He’d ignored your apologies, but the way you said his name, like he could solve all your problems while also causing all of them, it was like you had this type of innocence. A pure innocence that no matter the pain he’d cause you, you’d still love him. Like if he kicked you, you’d come running right back.

Elvis stopped himself from pulling out once more and stared down at you, his grip released and one of his hands cupped your cheek and rested a thumb at the corner of your eye just before your temple, ready to catch a tear in case those teary eyes of yours spill over.

You stared up at him with a frown and pulled your hands to rest nervously on your stomach, feeling a sudden sense of awkwardness mixed with discomfort at the idea of Elvis being upset with you. But instead he seemed to sympathize with you,

“Now you see, ya gotta listen to me Babylove. I don’t expect much from ya, all I expect is honesty, now, be honest and let me know when you relax.”

You let out a shaky breath and soft noise as Elvis’ thumb landed back on your clit, beginning to rub those circles that make your hips twist a little from instinct. Elvis’ lips had been on yours in the blink of an eye, but his kiss was deep and slow, it wasn’t like when he’d kiss you so hard and so fast that your teeth knocked against his. Instead you felt his tongue explore each and every inch of your mouth carefully, could feel the way his tongue swiped along the small space between your lower gums and teeth.

His nose lightly grazed against the start of your cheek as he tilted his head to get a different angle. 

And in what would be one of the only moments for you to catch your breath within the kiss, you managed to breath out, “‘M ready”

It was a different kind of tug due to the efforts of the both of you. You were relaxed and open and Elvis was only rocking back and forth into you, no complete pulling, you couldn’t handle that yet.

With each rock of his hips, you let out a little breath or squeak. For a moment you lost focus as you watched the way Elvis used the thumb on one hand to stroke your little bud while using his other hand to stroke himself, but you were pulled back into your moment with Elvis as he groaned lowly, followed by a groan that sounded a bit more throaty. He was close.

And knowing that it was because he was in you made you feel a sense of excitement, and sense of sexuality, realizing you could make a man feel this way by doing nothing but laying there like a pliant doll.

Be a pliant wife. Your mother was right.

Your hips dragged upward slightly, crashing into his hips that were rocking down into you, the collision of skin made you moan softly as your manicured nails reached for the sheets, one hand gripped them brutally while your other hand ended up in Elvis' hair, not gripping, only carding through the dark strands.

“E-Elvis, it’s- I’m…”

You couldn’t describe it, what was coming, but thankfully you didn’t have to as he mumbled into your lips,

“I know Baby, I know. It’s comin’ f’me to, comin’ fast Babylove- H-how’s it comin’ for you?”

As the upward grind of your hips turned to little upward thrusts that your feet could manage on the slippery sheets of the bed you could hardly choke out a word as his thumb had entertained that warmth just below your stomach for too long, it’d been teased and tugged along far too long from the rubbing of his thumb on your little bundle of nerves that at its peaking point, it snapped, leaving you to try and choke out the words,

“It- I- It’s-”

As your mouth remained agape but your voice fell silent, and those pitiful attempts at thrusts of yours fell back to wishful grinds of your hips. Elvis thanked the Lord, he’d been trying his best to hold on for you, to slow his rocking when he felt himself get a little too close, he’d been edging himself almost the entire time for you.

And now as he pulled out and continued to stroke his cock with one hand, the hand previously fondling your clit reached for the pair of panties he laid aside so long ago.

As you caught your breath you watched as Elvis’ hand stroked twice, thrice, four more times along his length before he buried his cock in your crumpled up panties, letting his head fall back and a guttural moan fill the room as he reached his peak.

After a few moments of silence accompanied by the pants of the both of you Elvis removed the metal ring holding his short ascot scarf together at the center of his neck, you heard a clink as he tossed it somewhere on the wood floor, then you watched as the fabric got closer to your face, closing your eyes at the contact you could feel Elvis wiping away the dampness building on your head and cheeks from the heat what you just experienced. As the feeling left you watched as he wiped his own face off before bringing the satin scarf down to your petals, wiping off the proof of your pleasure from your pussy’s lips then wiping off your thighs that happened to be the victims of the heated juices that spread through your body which were shoveled out from the earlier pulls of Elvis’ cock’s head.

After Elvis caught his breath and pulled the panties away from his cock to see his work, then he flipped it toward you, and you saw that familiar white liquid that Elvis told you was a reward for your hard work.

“When we get married and I fill you with my seed, this is what I’ll be fillin’ ya with, I promise…”

Your eyes were lidded and tired, but full of love as you took in the sight of your fiancé, his once perfectly coiffed hair now ruffled, you could see sweat stains forming on the blue silk shirt he didn’t bother to take off before starting, and those eyelashes of his must’ve been batting so much as he now had a stray on his cheek, he must’ve missed it with his scarf.

As Elvis prepped your reward, scraping it off the pastel fabric with a finger you parted your lips, and as he finger-fed you his seed you accepted the finger into your mouth, closing your lips around it as you sucked it clean. “Atta girl, did so well” 

Your own little finger guided up his cheek to swipe the eyelash off his cheek, he watched with confusion at the way you smiled around his finger, then you flipped your finger around to show him.

As he crawled over your body to lay down beside you, removing his finger in the process you spoke with a bit of hoarseness, “Make a wish”

Elvis smiled fondly and put a hand over your thigh, “You can have this one Babylove”

You smiled before checking once more, “Are you sure?”

He wanted to laugh at how serious you were taking it all, and with a gentle rub of his hand he reassured, “I’m sure Honey, I’m sure”

You smiled down at the little eyelash resting on the middle of your index finger. And you wished for all that you could want, you wished for a happy marriage.

I had so much fun!! I really liked writing this, and I'm so happy I've had requests to write this character to the point I can turn it into a whole au!! hope you liked it.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!

@fadedsummerlove, @lialocklear, @astral-eyed-cat here it is lovelies

[ckret2]

I love sparkly coin au, how would Mabel act differently after her memories as Bill return? Since she now has all her memories back? Would she gain back some or most of her old mannerisms as Bill? What else would change?

She actually wouldn't act much more Bill-ish than she already does.

Like there's two ways to look at a "Bill reincarnates as Mabel" AU:

Bill dies, and a totally new and different person is made from his soul; and then, thirteen years later, she starts reacquiring the memories of a different person that used to be made from her soul, and now that different person influences her mind.

And that's not the way I'm doing it.

The other way is:

Bill loses his memories and gets stuck in a new body, but he's still the same person he's always been, he just doesn't have specific memories. Over the course of thirteen years, he naturally learns and grows and changes as a person, as you would expect to happen over time; and then he gets his memories back.

Bill isn't a different separate person whose influence Mabel is only now being exposed to. She was Bill from the start. The point at which her mannerisms, behaviors, and actions were most Bill-ish was when she was a toddler; and all the ways she's different from him now isn't because she's missing 1,000,000,000,000 years of being Bill, but because she's gained 13 years of being Mabel.

We see, in the show, her learning to become less Bill-ish: to put her family's needs over her preoccupation of the week; to accept that things change and she shouldn't try to cope with it by retreating into a fantasy world over which she has full control; etc. That process has been going on since she was born.

So usually, getting her Bill memories back just lets her understand the mannerisms she already has. "So that's why I didn't even stop to think before dumping a whole packet of Smile Dip down my throat; I've been trying every new party drug that drops into the Nightmare Realm for forever and it's never caused me trouble before because I'm made out of energy, haha! ... Yikes." "Wait, so, I've been attracted to mysterious-y gory urbany-legend cryptidy things like Bloody Mary for like, a billion zillion years? ... Suddenly my thing for vampires makes a lot more sense." "Well, now I know why I avoid wearing shoes with laces as much as possible! Becaaause they're evil!"

(That's what most of the fun of this AU is for me: reframing Mabel traits as Bill-ish traits and reframing Bill traits as Mabel-ish traits. So it's not about GIVING Mabel Bill's traits; rather it's about saying Mabel ALREADY HAS Bill's traits and then trying to convince y'all that it makes perfect sense.)

Some superficial surface traits might drift toward being more Bill-ish; like, an increased appreciation for the color yellow. But most of the changes from her memories returning come from either, one, specifically the psychological effects that just knowing she's Bill Cipher would have (like, y'know, guilt over tormenting her grunkle and nearly murdering her brother); or two, things she's only capable of doing when she's got vast cosmic knowledge at her disposal.

For instance: she does arts & crafts, she's always loved arts & crafts. Sock puppets, macaroni art, crayon portraits, glue gun fashion, you name it, she's a master at it. But now she's remembered how to make one of her all time favorite crafts: bubbles of pure madness! This is gonna keep her occupied, like, all weekend.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

Things I Can't Stop Thinking About Since the Gravity Falls Renaissance; An Overly Long Compilation

• It's mostly a joke-y cartoon thing but holy shit Dipper wakes up screaming kind of a lot??? How long has he been doing that for?? How long will he *be* doing it for??

• Stan had to basically teach himself advanced physics and complex multidimensional theories. He had the advantage of the portal mostly being built and having a bunch of the notes post-Bill, but still!! He had to learn how to operate the damn thing! I highly doubt Ford wrote about the portal in the same accessible manner he wrote about cryptids, especially as he spiraled into paranoia. The machinations of the portal weren't meant to be shared with the layperson, it just wouldn't be practical information for most people to have.

(also notable that he went through the whole process of learning how to operate the portal not only through pages and pages of dense code, but with the background of a 1970s highschool education and literally nothing else that would be relevant. Ford works really hard, but this is also stuff that comes to him very naturally. Designing a functioning portal wasn't the hard part. The hard part was getting the idea for the portal in the first place and knowing what to do with it. This shit is so ridiculously advanced and Stan is not an academic mind by any means. No wonder it took 30 years, he had to keep up a fake life and fund his project while grinding away at advanced quantum physics interdimensional whatever science wizard nonsense. I think about those 30 years a lot.)

• It doesn't really get addressed, but I think about Wendy being "super stressed out, like, all the time!" A lot. God, can you imagine living in the same house as Manly Dan? Let alone being the only girl there? Especially depending on when their mom left/died, she probably felt incredibly alone for a lot of her teen years. And given the Apocalypse Training it doesn't seem like Manly Dan is the most stable parent either.

• Stan, Ford, and Wendy could probably bond over having shitty holidays (and subsequently being forced into having awesome holidays when Mabel found out.) Filbrick took Stan and Ford to get free cinder block samples for Hanukkah, and the Corduroys did apocalypse training every year instead of Christmas.

• Pacifica still hears the voice of the Lumberjack ghost in her nightmares, but it's implied on the website that the Lumberfolk spirits have actually declared her under their protection since the events of Northwest Mansion Mystery. That means one of two things: that the ghost in her dreams is just her own guilt-ridden brain, or that the ghost has been appearing in her dreams to try and help her. I think about both options frequently.

• Stan struggles a lot of the time with physical activity, but that's mostly to do with age. He's actually really goddamn strong (beating down the zombies, punching a pterodactyl in the face, grabbing Ford and hoisting him up off the ground no problem, scaling scaffolding and holding the twins up by a rope one-handed). This makes the fact that Wendy beat him in an arm wrestling contest three times in a row way funnier.

• The way the Stans were almost definitely completely willing to beat a random guys ass so that Waddles could get on that bus. Stanford "Your math is no match for my gun you idiot!" Pines implicitly threatened to shoot a stranger with a Weird Sci-Fi Firearm for his great-niece. Stanley is even more direct. There is no confusing what brass knuckles will to to you. I also absolutely believe that they were not bluffing. One of them would've stolen the bus if the guy had mysteriously fallen unconscious due to unforseen circumstances.

• According to Soos, Tad Strange is crushing hard on Woodpecker Guy. Is this general town knowledge? Does everybody know that the Woodpecker marriage is on the rocks? How does one divorce a woodpecker? Alternatively, how does one get divorced *by* a woodpecker? Does Tad have a chance? Is this a small town scandal? Mr. Hirsch inquiring minds want to know. Has Toby Determined written a gossip column on this drama yet. Get your head in the game, Toby

[lilmissbacon]

Rotg world building — Thoughts and theories

This was originally just going to be a reblog to THIS post but then I ended up going down a rabbit hole of my thoughts and opinions, so it became too annoyingly long for peoples/my preference.

Most of the post really expresses how I've always viewed the world of spirits in Rotg. The only thoughts I'm not really a fan of is the idea of some spirits not having physical forms and just being like big storms. Because what's the point of humanoid spirits being invisible to humans if they have no physical forms to other spirits as well?

I never saw Jack talking to the wind as the wind being an active spirit, I saw it as him just being so lonely he'd pretend the wind was alive to not feel so alone. After all, he only addressed the wind 1 time, if it were an actual being I feel like it'd be addressed more than once. Especially when Jack needed to get out of Antarctica: why would he need to fix his staff to fly out if the wind could've just picked him up unless he was the one making the wind? And like the post linked above said, the comics are unofficial. They're cool and I love them but they're not canon.

I do love the idea of their being 2 generations of spirits. Pre-MiM and post-MiM where the legends of Gods and myths are tales of the original spirits mistaken for higher deities and distorted over time. After all MiM wasn't always there (at least in the books) so how were their seasons/seasonal spirits on earth before him unless they were just natural to earth?

Plus it's made apparent through Sandy's death in Rotg that spirits are not 100% immortal, just non-aging. I think there is an open window for spirits to come back like Sandy did, if an influx of enough people believe, Tinkerbell style. But after maybe a year or so, that window is closed, that spirit is full on dead and that spirit needs to be replaced to keep the world in balance. So there could've been hundreds of spirits that have been lost but then replaced by MiM. I also think only magic can kill spirits, since Jack managed to fall from like 300+ feet in the final battle and walk it off without so much as a limp. Like, it still hurt, he clearly felt the pain, but he could still run, jump, throw hands and everything. He only groaned like he tripped down a small set of stairs.

Guardians are the only ones who could die without belief due to the vow they take. I feel like that vow tying their lives to belief could've actively been like an insurance policy to insure that the Guardians stay true and keep doing their jobs to fulfill childhood. It may be controlling and borderline manipulative for MiM to make them do that but I'm sure we're all in agreement that he is pretty gray as a character in the movie when you really think about it. And I could even see where he's coming from with this idea. After all, who knows how many spirits he may have made thinking they were good people, only for them to go dark and become evil. I'm sure MiM would hold a lot of guilt whenever those bad spirits hurt others or even feel at fault for making these decent people, eventual villains. Besides the Guardians know they could die if they lose belief when they make the vow, so it's not like MiM tricked them, that's consented. The Guardians just forgot to tell Jack that.

Now, I always saw "Spirit Society" as all spirits know of each other and word always gets around when new ones are made. I don't think there's a hidden city or village (other than maybe Santoff Clausen if it's even still around. And only for some of them, it wouldn't be big enough for all spirits in my mind) but rather they make homes for themselves and just cross paths with each other all the time. Kinda like the countryside; everyone's homes are far apart, but you still see each other in stores or at work.

I'm not quite sure how the news and knowledge would spread between spirits so often unless they were either all huge gossips or had yearly meets or something. But you know what, I'd be willing to bet that there are a few "messenger" spirits similar to Hermes in Greek myth, that just fly everywhere, spreading word for other spirits to make sure everyone is in the loop.

In my mind, Bunny's aggression early in the movie was meant to kinda show how most spirits saw Jack. After all, he's the only one who didn't feel like he'd be super recluse due to his job as he's the only one who doesn't work all year-round.

Unless he's a complete hermit, what is he doing for the rest of the year other than going out and hanging with other spirits?

I think most spirits hate Jack for being a troublemaking spirit that honed the deadliest season. That could just be my angst fanfic brain making things up but why else would Jack be so desperate to look towards humans to connect with unless he has tried with other spirits who could see him and was only met with backlash?

'Cause I have seen a few people complain that the ending of the movie contradicted Jack's arc of wanting to be seen only to leave the few believers he'd finally made. But that was never the point. He has what I like to call a fake-out arc; where it's said he wants one thing but his actual goal is different. He asks why he can't be seen, he tries his best to get people to believe in him, but he's doing it in an effort to find a family.

He mentions how no one can see him but he's more devastated over why he was left alone. That's his main question in this scene. He doesn't outwardly ask why he's alone specifically, but asking MiM "why" just after he was looking so longingly at Jamie's family is clearly meant to insinuate that that is what he really wants. He may even be telling himself it's just to be seen because he's been alone for so long that he just wants the bare fucking minimum. That's why the end of Rotg is still satisfying despite leaving his new believers, because being seen was never truly the end goal, it was finding a family and he finally found that in the other Guardians.

He clearly believed that he couldn't be accepted by other spirits, so he looked to humans to find that connection and getting to be seen by them was just a first step towards that goal.

It's the same thing in Tangled (because I have encountered someone who thought Rapunzel was one-dimensional for just wanting to see lights 😮‍💨) Rapunzel sang and always told Gothel + Eugene that she just wanted to see the floating lights, but the moment she steps out of her tower she starts singing in exhilaration about how she can finally go running, dancing, jumping and splashing. She never even mentions the lights. It had nothing to really do with the lights, she just wanted to leave her tower and explore the world. Seeing the lanterns was just her externalized and internalized excuse because she wanted to feel less awful for going against her 'mother'. Her wanting to explore the world was then more blatantly explored in Tangled the Series.

Edit: Pitch even straight up mentions about longing for a family when trying to sympathize with Jack and it's that very line that makes Jack lower is guard. Not the line about not being believed in, longing for a family. Jack even looks super sympathetic for him.

After Pitch killed Sandy, after witnessing first hand the belief fading from all the kids around the world and being framed for Easter's failure, possibly ruining Jack's relationship with the Guardians, Jack still feels bad for Pitch in this moment. That's why Jack lets Pitch say his piece in this scene despite knowing that he was never going to join him (you can tell he was never buying into Pitch's words and Jack didn't hesitate to refuse). He was even willing to try and just walk away after refusing his offer rather than keep fighting. Because he understands that desperation of wanting to be loved by just being seen and/or heard.

That's part of what makes him such a good layered character: the fact that he always used mischief in an effort to try and be seen, similar to when kids act out to get their parents attention. It leads the other spirits to think that he's nothing more than a troublemaker (and even audience as well, the amount of mis-characterization I've seen people make of Jack, istg) when in reality he's actually a very respectful, emotional, sweet and even responsible person that does know when to stop being silly. Jack never played around when actual danger came around, the only time he did was a one quip to Sandy because he was nervous and in the final battle when he realized being funny takes away Pitch's control.

And even then it was brief, after the kids started turning the sand gold again, Jack went right back into serious battle mode.

Kinda shows how not really mischievous Jack truly is when it takes him so long to realize that being fun can weaken Pitch. Because he's not really a trickster, he doesn't even really pull many pranks, he's just playful. But he had been cranking that up to 11 for the past 300 years in an effort to be seen, he inadvertently kept deterring other spirits away, who may had already not liked him just for being an ice based spirit. After all, whenever Bunny wanted to take a stab at Jack it was either at his invisibility or for his ice. Granted that could just be because Bunny himself just doesn't like the cold or even strictly because Jack made that blizzard on Easter but then again, we never got to see that for ourselves. We don't know if Jack even did that on purpose or not.

Last note; I don't think any other spirits died to become spirits like Jack did. It's my personal headcanon that the reason Jack couldn't remember his past is because he's the only one who had actively died before MiM got the chance to turn him. Though for all we know there could be a few others who also forgot their pasts. If there are, Jack clearly never got the chance to ask.

The way this kinda diverged into a mini Jack Frost character analysis though 😅

[myreygn]

do you ever think about how sanemi's animosity towards tanjiro makes so much sense from a narrative perspective because tanjiro is literally everything sanemi isn't?

both of them lose their fathers at a very young age, only that sanemi's father was a horrible abusive jerk who inflicted severe trauma upon his entire family while tanjiro's father was the coolest guy around whose lessons continue to motivate tanjiro and impact his life in a positive way.

both of them have to deal with a beloved family member turning into a demon, only that sanemi ends up killing his mother and has to come to terms with the fact that although she became a monster he still killed his mother while tanjiro manages to guide his sister through her monstrosity and finds ways to help her keep her humanity in tact.

both of them lose their families with only one younger sibling remaining, only that sanemi and genya get separated and estranged while tanjiro and nezuko never lose their close relationship.

[spoilers below the cut]

both of them have to deal with their younger sibling being a demon (one way or the other), only that sanemi's hatred towards demons as a whole makes it impossible for him to look at genya the same way while tanjiro loves his sister all the same, no matter if she's demon or human.

both of them try to protect their younger siblings from danger, only that sanemi can't think of anything but straight up abuse to try and push genya away which remains unsuccessful while tanjiro and nezuko work together well during fights and tanjiro still manages to keep her safe.

both of them fight with the goal to keep their siblings alive, only that genya dies and leaves sanemi with a ton of guilt and regret while tanjiro and nezuko get their happy ending.

both of them are thrown into the conflict between demons and humans out of nowhere, only that sanemi spends a considerable amount of time on his own, killing demons without any assistance while tanjiro gets sent off with a hashira recommendation letter to urokodaki's where he receives a proper training and finds a new home and family.

both of them find companions along the way and form meaningful relationships with them, only that masachika dies young with sanemi being unable to protect him while tanjiro, zenitsu and inosuke stay together through everything and manage to survive even the final battle.

and a lot of this is meta knowledge, a lot of this is information that sanemi doesn't have about tanjiro. but he does have some of it and i think it's enough knowledge for me to put up this theory: sanemi envies tanjiro. because both of them went through unspeakable trauma and grief, both of them lost people close to them, both of them had to deal with similar situations.

and yet tanjiro is kind. he's friendly and good, people trust him, people love to befriend him and he inspires them wherever he goes while sanemi is bitter and nasty and simply incapable of forming and maintaining these connections in the way tanjiro is because who'd want to be friends with a cruel jerk right? and tanjiro loves to take lonely people under his wing, but not even he is willing to forgive sanemi for most of the story and i can only imagine how that must sting because no one wants to be lonely and yet sanemi can't even blame him. he wouldn't forgive himself either.

[kyanitedragon]

Ghoul Worldbuilding Headcanons:

Ghoul kitchens are always clean. Very few ghouls actually cook to begin with, which makes most of their kitchen indefinitely clean. And all of them can’t afford to leave evidence of their meals, so they clean up immediately.

Because of this, ghouls are commonly known as very tidy people among their human friends.

Koalas and Panda Bears are common favorite animals (or at least, animals of heavy interest) among ghouls for the fact that they also live on a single food source (albeit both plants — eucalyptus and bamboo)

Carnivorous animals that get demonized as “eating machines” like Sharks are also common favorite animals / animals of interest

Because of this, a lot of ghouls take interest in animals and want to go into a work field of either studying or working with animals. (If you can't work against the demonization of your own species, might as well work on helping other species!)

Given that Hide can keep Cain’s mouth shut in the novels to make him swallow human food, what if ghouls are like crocodiles and alligators? Incredible bite strength, but the muscle that opens their mouths is really weak.

Acting human requires a lot of suppression, far beyond what canon covers. Think about it: They have to ignore the scents they smell, everything they overhear, keep their strength and agility in check, avoid dangerous objects because they can't be harmed by it. And they have to guess and estimate all these limits, because they can't just ask. They even have to play dumb and fearful about knowledge of their own species, as public knowledge on ghouls and even the CCG is very low.

And it requires a lot of supplementation, too. They have to catch up on the importance of food in human culture, from favorite foods to grocery shopping. And be able to recognize the variety of human food, and pay attention to and prepared for common eating times. They've probably never experienced a true human restaurant besides coffee shops. They also have to make up family history since most ghouls are orphans, and stick to a single believable backstory.

Given that the CCG take ghoul bodies after killing them and turn them into quinques, having a body at all is a big deal amongst ghouls, and in recent history makes their death ceremonies not entirely unlike humans'

Having a real disconnect when it comes to the blood and gore side of horror. They can tell its meant to be terrifying and disgusting, but it gives them the complete opposite reaction. Which could either be really fun and enjoyable, or the source of alienation and guilt, depending on the ghoul

Whether its through chemosignals or simply overhearing heartbeats, ghouls can sense fear

(And lying too, probably)

If they can sense chemosignals, then that would make communicating through masks easier for them, as they don't need to read each other's expressions to tell emotions

Cats don't just purr from contentment, but also often purr when stressed, and there's a theory that cat purring aids in healing, which feels really ripe for worldbuilding considering that ghouls have regeneration. Maybe they go hand-in-hand — purring whenever their regeneration kicks in, or maybe they tend to purr when their regeneration gives out — instinctually using a more primative form of healing

(The theory also says that cat purring can lower stress and aid healing in humans too, so consider that for your ghoul x human ships! It wouldn't be an enhanced form of healing for humans, but it would still be comforting and have minor healing properties like the cat purring theory!)

Ghouls' eyes glow. Their kakugan glowing is pretty accepted as canon, but what if even their "normal" eyes glow too?

(Examples of :re Donato because I thought it was cool)

Also bonus headcanon for this specific scene: Donato really likes to sit in the dark and let his eyes glow creepily, just another fun little way to freak out cochlea's doves. But they quickly caught on to this and started keep the lights on. As Donato's friend, Haise's the only one who lets him sit in the dark during interrogations anymore. Enrichment :)

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi! I haven't read the iwtv books so could you explain what you mean by Lestat keeping Louis and Claudia as mortal as possible? And it's something that Marius advised? I wouldn't mind any spoilers!

Have a nice day!

Hey!

So to expand on that a bit:

After Lestat was turned against his will and after he encountered the Children of Darkness and Armand he tries to find Marius, Armand's maker (and a true ancient, them calling Armand ancient is very funny to me tbh^^) to find some (more) answers.

Ultimately he does manage to rouse Marius' interest, and Marius raises him from a dirt nap and takes him to the island where he lives and cares for "Those Who Must Be Kept". (We know that also happened in the show in some kind of manner, because Lestat refers to TWMBK in ep7.)

Marius tells Lestat his life story, introduces him to Akasha and Enkil.

And he gives him advice (from "The Vampire Lestat"):

"If you mean to survive, you must live out one complete lifetime as soon as you can. To forestall it may be to lose everything, to despair and to go into the earth again, never to rise. Or worse. . . " [...] "Then do as I advise. And understand this also. In a real way, eternity is merely the living of one human lifetime after another. Of course, there may be long periods of retreat; times of slumber or of merely watching. But again and again we plunge into the stream, and we swim as long as we can, until time or tragedy brings us down as they will do mortals. " [...] "Exactly, make them in love. And make certain they have had some lifetime before you make them; and never never make one as young as Armand. That is the worst crime I have ever committed against my own kind, the taking of the young boy child Armand. "

But he also gives him a warning:

"You know why not. I can't have you or anyone else know the location of Those Who Must Be Kept. And that brings us now to something very important: the promises I must have from you. " "Anything, " I said. "But what could you possibly want that I could give? " "Simply this. You must never tell others the things that I have told you. Never tell of Those Who Must Be Kept. Never tell the legends of the old gods. Never tell others that you have seen me. " I nodded gravely. I had expected this, but I knew without even thinking that this might prove very hard indeed. "If you tell even one part, " he said, "another will follow, and with every telling of the secret of Those Who Must Be Kept you increase the danger of their discovery. " "Yes, " I said. "But the legends, our origins . . . What about those children that I make? Can't I tell them- " "No. As I told you, tell part and you will end up telling all. Besides, if these fledglings are children of the Christian god, if they are poisoned as Nicolas was with the Christian notion of Original Sin and guilt, they will only be maddened and disappointed by these old tales. It will all be a horror to them that they cannot accept. Accidents, pagan gods they don't believe in, customs they cannot understand. One has to be ready for this knowledge, meager as it may be. Rather listen hard to their questions and tell them what you must to make them contented. And if you find you cannot lie to them, don't tell them anything at all. Try to make them strong as godless men today are strong. But mark my words, the old legends never. Those are mine and mine alone to tell. " "What will you do to me if I tell them? " I asked. This startled him. He lost his composure for almost a full second, and then he laughed. "You are the damnedest creature, Lestat, " he murmured. "The point is I can do anything I like to you if you tell. Surely you know that. I could crush you underfoot the way Akasha crushed the Elder. I could set you ablaze with the power of my mind. But I don't want to utter such threats. I want you to come back to me. But I will not have these secrets known. I will not have a band of immortals descend upon me again as they did in Venice. I will not be known to our kind. You must never-deliberately or accidentally-send anyone searching for Those Who Must Be Kept or for Marius. You will never utter my name to others. " "I understand, " I said.

Lestat goes to NOLA after and tries to follow Marius' advice - and heed the warning.

That is the why.

The how...

Lestat never shows them the full extent of his powers. He lives with them in a house, as a family, not as a coven. He tries not to be the "coven master" for long stretches of time (going so far as to leave his home for example). He hides the more monstrous aspects of their existence, as well as the cruel implementations/rituals other covens have. Since Louis is very much also "poisoned by the notion of the Christian God" he does not tell them much either, probably half for fear of Marius and half for the gut feeling that the knowledge he has would actually not help much.

That is what I mean that he keeps them as mortal as possible.

They live with mortals, in their midst, masquerading as mortals, having hobbies, and interests, going to theaters, cinema etc. He makes his fledglings from and through love, and tries to live a "life" with them.

As good as he possibly can.

(The downside is, of course, that Louis and Claudia unfortunately have no concept of what awaits them with the other vampires. Which is exactly why Lestat did not want them to go to... Paris.)

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

if it's ok can you do a bad sanses x scp child reader. where nightmare find them in her negative universe all alone trying to survive (since she lost her father and friends) cause something bad happened and takes them in as their healer (cause the child doesn't want to kill). nightmare found her when she was 7/8 years old, nightmare would see a bit of his passive self in her, and the child would be neutral with the whole situation given they have seen crazier things from where their from (and just wanted to escape their situation from their world). but is a good kid and despite not wanting to hurt anyone she would rather get themselves hurt to protect those she cares for (would literally take a hit from anyone who tries to hurt dadmare, killer, horror and dust because of their past trauma and defend them with her telekinesis). their drawbacks of their abilities is if she gets extremely hurt or looses a limb when having zero energy she can't regenerate until her stamina is helped (energy like full sleep and have food or beverage basically having good stamina) but still can't die. (this is based off an oc of mine so here is more info with a pic to help) she sometime would have her breakdowns like the others from past trauma (also her soul would be perseverance) I'm sorry for the long read i hope your ok with this and if you have any questions I'm happy to answer :3

Holy shit this took too long to write-

Featuring: Nightmare, Killer, Dust and Ted.

Masterlist

Nightmare

Ah yes. Another dumb kid for him to add to the collection.

Since you were quite useful with your healing powers and all, he took you in. Big mistake.

Nightmare now finds himself caring for another kid (the other kids are the Killer Dust and Ted), oh well.

Is very impressed with your ability to regenerate limbs.. it's... Fascinating..

His grumpy self turns into one a bit more content.

You're like a memory of himself in the past, the voice that always keeps ticking in his mind, except you are real. "I am too.."

Didn't find out about Killer bringing you into missions until Ted came furiously to him demanding to know why would his boss let a child go to mass murderer missions.

Spoiler alert, he didn't know and quickly became enraged, that's his kid, how dare Killer bring you to missions without his knowledge!?

Nightmare finds it adorable when you try to protect him, he's already a god silly, he can't die!

Dust

Stay still, he wants to study you.

He may or may not like SCPs...

Holds a notebook and pen, writing down any information he can get out of you.

Impressed with your powers, but not surprised, he knows Nightmare wouldn't take in a healer who can't defend themselves.

Watches in the shadows, if you need him just call his name.

Finds Killer's idea of bringing you to missions dumb, but there's nothing he can do can he?

You two may have time alone, and he uses that time to gossip about Killer's dumbass.

On really really rare occasions, he'll vent about his past, about the guilt he feels about his actions.

Killer

Another one to be influenced by him.

Nightmare doesn't let you near killer without supervision, that's a big no no.

He doesn't want to wake up hearing laughter with his face painted with permanent marker again.

Killer likes having someone around, especially because you can

He finds it cute when you try to protect him, you're not even to his waist! How are you going to fight a fucking god like dream?

Well, his jaw is on the ground now. "HOLY SHIT NIGHTMARE WHAT KIND OF POWERS DOES THIS KID HAVE???"

Yep, he's bringing you in missions now.

Also Killer named a cat after you.

Ted

The fact that you need to be healthy to be able to regenerate is the perfect excuse for him to cook more food.

He repays you when you heal him he makes your favorite dessert.

Ted thinks you're too naive and innocent for battle, and gets pretty annoyed every time you go in missions with them.

Even knowing you can regenerate and defend yourself it still keeps him worried, what if you run out of energy?

Also blames Killer for any scratch you get, he's the one who made you go with them so he's the one to blame.

He's the one who's with you almost 24/7, acts like an actual big brother, may even apresent you to his Papyrus.

When you defend him in an argument, he feels so fucking special, no he doesn't have tears on his eyes you're just hallucinating.

[monstermoviedean]

cw suicide

i’m trying to be very careful saying this cause i by no means wanna romanticize suicide or anything, but. sam’s language for suicide, calling it “quitting” and “giving up” and saying that if dean does go through with the plan then his life would have “meant nothing” … it’s so very icky to me. it’s so steeped in judgement and shows such a startling lack of empathy and compassion. like yes you wanna tell people who are suicidal to keep fighting and that they’re important to you, but shaming them for their very real emotions and urges is honestly so cruel.

and the thing is. sam’s, to put it frankly, emotional manipulation, might’ve gotten dean to agree to let sam try more options, but dean does not actually suddenly have hope again. and this part of it—dean’s feelings. they do not get addressed. they are shamed. and i so so wish this whole thing went differently.

god, thank you. THANK YOU. YES.

okay so 1) 100% not trying to romanticize anything. absolutely. i'm with you there and you're not doing that.

2) the exact language you pulled out and described as icky is also feeling icky to me. maybe, if i'm being charitable, i can believe that sam doesn't actually believe that suicide = quitting and that he's only saying this because he thinks it will get dean to agree with him. but that's the kindest motive i can think of and it's still not very kind. the least kind motive i can think of is that sam is intentionally trying to guilt dean as much as possible because he knows dean has a very strong response to guilt, specifically when it comes from sam. i think in reality it's somewhere in the middle - sam is trying anything he can to get dean to give up on his plan, and he's not especially concerned with how he gets there.

3) empathy and compassion. good lord is it missing here. the whole episode is about sam's feelings about dean dying. and it reminds me that the same thing happened in season 3. it's all about how hard it is for sam. and i'm not saying sam can't have feelings about dean dying - of course he can! but i think the way he's expressing those feelings is unfair to dean and not good for either of them.

4) i've been trained in suicide prevention. i am by no means an expert, but i do have a little knowledge. and shame, guilt, emphasizing your own feelings above the other person's...not in any playbook i know of. the goal is always to seek understanding, help the person feel supported and validated, and get them more help.

5) the fact that dean's feelings don't matter here and will not be addressed is what really gets me. because dean is expected to put aside his feelings to make sam feel better. that's sam's expectation. that's the writers' expectation. and it means dean just has to suck it up and let sam do and say whatever he wants. i think that sucks. i wouldn't want my worst enemy to be treated like that. and it just! keeps! happening! dean hasn't gotten to have feelings about michael yet! or a whole host of other things! and he never will because his feelings are treated like they don't matter - both by other characters, and by some of the writers. i'm not saying i expect or want a therapy episode. but it would be nice if every once in a while dean could have a feeling and people could empathize with him.

[fishnapple]

As a professional tarot reader, I imagine you got a busy life outside of that whether it's another job or social obligations. I like how you conduct yourself both on your blog and when making personal interpretation reports for others. How do you tend to manage yourself, schedule, and energy to make the creative-spiritual content that you do? You seem to genuinely enjoy what you are doing. 🥰 Do you have any general or practical advice for people thinking of starting out in becoming a reader for others? 🤔

Hi, thank you for such a lovely message💓🌰 (I feel like sending some chestnuts). Somehow the word "conduct" reminds me so much of Saturn, and then Saturn reminds me of chestnuts.

Your question took longer to reply to than I expected. As I wrote, I realised that this is quite a broad topic. If I were to write to my heart's content then it would turn into an essay, so I will try to keep it concise as much as possible 👀

A bit of context: I quit my corporate job that used to take up more than half the time of day. After being a corporate clown for 9 years, now I just live as a hermit and do freelance jobs. Maybe I will stay as a hermit for the next 9 years then begin another journey, who knows. I'm not that good at self management, but my life right now is pretty simple, so it's easier to manage. I will share some of my personal experiences and observations about time management, creativity and spirituality here:

Time

Routine: Doing readings at a certain time of the day. I just found out recently that I do divination reading best at night time, rather than during daytime. I keep a general timetable in my head so I can have a general idea of when to do something (and not following it).

Checklist: I also keep a checklist of tasks I need to complete on time (PACs, personal readings), the feeling of ticking off boxes can be pretty satisfying 😆.

Space out readings: For PACc, I only read one group/day to keep the energy and length balanced between each group (if I do all the groups in one go, later group's reading length will suffer). For personal readings, I do the opposite, I tend to read all the questions in one go, but won't read for more than one person in one day.

Productivity

Enjoyment: Are you doing readings for your own enjoyment or as a duty? Do you genuinely like the questions, the topics? Do you feel comfortable doing readings for certain topics, for certain people? I don't think divination can be something that you can force yourself to do, especially when reading for other people.

Motivation: What are you trying to achieve when doing readings? for fun, for practice, for gaining knowledge, for digging out people's deep dark secrets, for money or for other reasons? Being clear on what motivates you will give you a better direction.

Perseverance: I like how every time I ask Tarot about my path, I always got the 8 of pentacles. Routine practice is good, don't compare yourself with other people, keep your gaze on what you're doing.

Guilt & Fear: I have productivity guilt sitting in the dark corner, ready to nag and whip any time I dare to be idle. Thanks to this, I was actually able to do lots of things. Doing something creative is also a good way to relieve stress for me, so the more stressed I am, the more productive I become *quietly, begrudgingly mumbling a "thank you" to Saturn aspects*. Guilt and fear, sometimes, can be such great motivators, with the right dose of course. (on the topic of fear, I once asked my friend if they didn't have any fears at all, what are the things that they would do? My friend answered "nothing, If I didn't fear anything, I wouldn't do anything at all")

Creativity/ Energy

Creative energy pool: Not to be confused with general energy pool. I don't know if other people feel the same, but for me, creative energy has a definite allotment for each day. If I use up that energy for one creative activity then I can't do another creative activity in that same day. So cramming many creative activities in one day can be counter intuitive. Doing divination, in my opinion, can also be a form of creative act, as it's about translating the messages inside you into a visible form of communication. So be mindful of that aspect.

The cyclical nature of creative energy: Some people are able to maintain a constant flow of energy, but in my case, it can be sporadic, it waxes and wanes like the moon so if I ever find myself feeling uninspired, I will just leave it and do other things, because I know it will come back later. If you find a topic or a question unappealing, maybe leave it for a while, read other topics then come back to it later.

Energy level: This is about the general energy level. Each person will have a different peak time for doing something during the day. Find out about yours and ultilise it. The tone and quality of a reading will reflect your energy, doing a reading when you're tired or physically unwell will have a negative impact on both the reading and you, not to mention the receiver of that reading if you read for others.

Interaction with energies: Be aware of your interaction with other people's energy, reading for others is a two way connection. Having your moods and thoughts be influenced by other's energy is real. Some will energise you, others can leave a bad taste but don't let that discourage you.

In the end, the most helpful advice I can think of is take it easy, keep doing what you enjoy and keep it fun & meaningful (even the soul searching, deep introspection readings needn't to be all dark and heavy, facing your demons can be like those dark fantasy novels, but it can also be slice of life comedy, none is less meaningful than the other)

I hope this can be helpful somehow. Have a great weekend ahead. 🌼🎐

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Hi Kym! I apologize if you have answered an ask like this before, but I am curious for your opinion.

You've talked a lot about how intentional all the Buddie parallels are in terms of costuming for several seasons now, both with Buck and Eddie together, then with their respective girlfriends, and in comparison to Bathena. We are now even getting throwbacks to season 2 and Eddie's first episode with Buck's stonewash jeans! Tim is adamant in interviews that he never planned this bisexual awakening in advance (we know that Eddie was originally meant for Maddie ofc) and that he doesn't know where the characters are going yet, but even Oliver has said he intentionally leans into the Buddie of it all with his acting, or at least into Buck's then-presumed bisexuality.

My question is, with just how pointed and intentional the costume choices have always been, is Tim is lying? Or are the costume designers secret Buddie shippers and intentionally lean into this storyline too? How much of what we see in terms of costuming is the decision of the show runners/directors vs creative expression of the costume designers? Is there a point in the show for you where it became clear how intentional it was becoming with the costuming, where they may or may not have said, "we're going to commit to telling this story in subtext until we are allowed to tell it overtly"?

Thanks :)

Hey Cookie-Kat!!

How lovely to have you in my inbox, and what a great question!

putting my answer under the cut - because it got long!!!

The answer I give is going to have to be a bit vague I'm afraid because the reality is that as I don't work on the show and I'm not 100% sure on the set up of their various departments, I can't categorically state how they are going about things in 911 land! I can share my experience and knowledge of how things can be done and try to give you some sort of framework - but I can't definitively say that this is how they are doing things.

First up let's address the whole Tim lying thing.

Tim is all about subterfuge in interviews - its literally his job as a showrunner. I would take every thing he says in an interview with a giant grain of salt. the entire purpose of his interviews is to tease and hook people, without giving anything way becasue why would he spoil all the things he has planned that make people watch the show he is creating. If he came out in an interview at the start of the season and said

'yeah, we're going to do a cruise ship disaster and all these things are going to happen, and in episode 4 Buck is going to get kissed by a guy and figure out he's bi and Eddie is going to find out his girlfriend was a novice nun and its going to send him into a catholic guilt spiral, and maddie nad CHim are going to get married, but x, y and z are going to happen before they can get down the aisle'

Why would anyone tune in to watch the show? we'd already know what was going to happen so there wouldn't be any point - there would be no buzz and the viewing figures might be ok, but they wouldn't be remotely close to what they are. I know for a fact I probably wouldn't be tuning in - people like to be surprised, they like to speculate - we in fandom take it to a higher level, but even the general audience speculate - water cooler conversations about what you watched the previous evening and how you think it's going to play out are part of a show's appeal - part of how it keeps people watching - shared experiences are a powerful commodity, especially in network television and they cannot be shared if we all know what is going to happen.

I would also add that this season is the most explicit acknowledgement of buddie that we've had in interviews and that means something. The show - writers, actors etc have all been incredibly careful before no to ensure that they haven't crossed over into queerbaiting the audience - which is something I really appreciate them for. But this season, things have definitely changed. whether that is down to being on a new network, that actually has a marketing strategy and that actually seems to care about the show and the stories that they have wanted to tell, I don't know, but it is so refreshing and exciting to see.

Tim is a clever person - he knows exactly what he is doing and every single season, without fail we have him saying things in interviews that can be read in multiple ways - none of them have ever been lies - subterfuge is the name of the game - then if you reread them in the aftermath of the season, you can see what he said did in fact play out as he hinted at - he has the context that we didn't have at the time and that is why he can subvert and talk his way around things.

I genuinely don't think Tim planned to give Buck a bisexual awakening from the start - we know he never planned on the buddie of it all, but a good writer will go where the characters take them. As soon as you create something and put it into the hands of others (the actors, directors and crew) things can very quickly take on a whole new direction and a life of its own.

If you ask me, I genuinely don't think Buck could've had a bi awakening before this point - it wouldn't have made sense from a narrative perspective (and his death and rebirth actually make the perfect jumping off point to explore) until now because of the very nature of Buck.

There isn't a single show (by show I mean one that isn't a limited series which will by definition have a planned arc) on network television that knew where each and every character would end up at the end of the show or that characters journey (by this I mean when cast chose to leave a show). Yes they might have planned a few beats to hit along the way, but they wouldn't know the end point for the character. We have a perfect example on 911 - Michael - the show hadn't intended to end Michaels arc in the way it did - his journey as a queer man coming out later in life was an important part of the show - important for representation as much as anything - they had to adapt and change in light of what was going on with Rockmond and write out a character that they would've had other plans for.

The other thing I should mention is that When Tim says he hasn't decided or written the scripts for upcoming episodes, that doesn't mean he doesn't have a plan. He very much will have a plan. There would've been clear arcs for each character laid out at the start of the writing process for the season - they would want to get character a from one point to another by the end of the season. Its the how they get there that is the unknown - at this point we don't know the end points for any characters this season, but if we take season 5 Eddie as an example - at the start of the season he is post shooting and back at work, seemingly perfectly fine. By the end of the season he is genuinely in a good place having gone through his trauma arc. The arc they would've decided on for Eddie that season was to explore his trauma and how to get him from a 'seemingly' good place to a genuinely good place. From there they would've decided on various touchstones - so Ana being mistaken for Christophers mother and them being a family is his trigger to launch his arc. Chris being scared of loosing his father a major touch stone, pushing him into leaving the 118. His then feeling on the outside - left out and replaced by Lucy is his next one, followed by the fact all his army buddies are gone, another touchstone - coming in quick succession to build momentum and leading to his breakdown. Pushing him to actually get help - therapy is another touchstone - one that helps to get him to the end of the season in a vastly different place - healing but still working on things.

So you see - they generally plan an overall direction, but how they get there is the bit that is a bit fluid and can be determined to a certain extent by audience reaction (I don't mean that they would out and out rewrite the entire plan for the season for a character, but they might chose to lean into different aspects if the audience react in a certain way - we saw this with Lucy - planned for a bigger arc, but the audience reaction to her was pretty negative, so they changed direction with her character and cut her part down).

In terms of Bucks bi arc - they will have been waiting on how it was received before fully determining how to play it out for the rest of the season - I genuinely think we'll be seeing more of Lou as Tommy later in the season as a part of Bucks arc - The way Lou has spoken about it being initially a 4 episode arc, suggests to me that its always been intended to run it longer if reaction was good - which we know it was. My explectation remains the same - that Tommy will be around until either the end of episode 9, or the middle of episode 10, to get Buck to where he needs to be by the season end.

I am on the fence as to where exactly that is - Everything from set, costuming and the script is screaming at me that it's about Buck figuring out not only that he is bi, but that he is also in love with Eddie. That is his arc for the season. What I am unsure of is how they are going to leave things at the end of the season (and I think a part of that will have been determined by audience reaction), whether or not we'll leave him acknowledging his feelings to himself, to a third party (Tommy and or Maddie), or to Eddie himself. Of course part of it will be determined by Eddies arc and how far they plan on getting him in regards to dealing with his catholic guilt and what form and direction t hat is going to take, but I cannot see any reason to start exploring that aspect of his character if you weren't going to use it for a queer arc of some description.

In terms of costuming - which was the main point of your ask - sorry I get rambly in these replies some times - I always view it as the first 2-3 seasons at the very least will be about establishing a characters look and vibe within the wider show, and from then on you can start to play into themes and colour theory etc. Somethings you can establish earlier - especially if they are centric to a character more widely. Examples of this are Eddies army green tees and shirts - establishing him visually as ex military, or the black singlets that he wears when in an emotionally vulnerable place, or Buck wearing his white trainers as part of his search for self, or his white shirts as a signal of him being in danger. You can do this, because they aren't playing on anything in relation to other characters at this early point.

So the decision to take Buck out of jeans (stone wash jeans specifically - he's been wearing jeans they've just been black or dark navy) and have him in very obviously shorter trousers, creating a specific aesthetic for him - this smarter, fitted clean cut style that is different from his season 1 looks, has been about playing into his journey of searching for self - that is his big overarching arc - the one that spans multiple seasons.

The intent to do that, wasn't about Buddie (or bi Buck) when they started to use it as a visual marker for him. It was (and always has been) about Buck. about his search for meaning in his life and who he is, who he wants to be - about being his authentic self.

The reason I got so excited about seeing him in jeans once more, when the first stills dropped at the start of the season - was because I knew that it was a signal that this bigger arc was coming to fruition and moving into its next phase. The costume team have been sitting waiting for when the time was right to do this - its being done with such intention.

Of course I hoped that it would be buddie related - things were pointing in that direction from other costuming choices. And to me at least, I still think its very much buddie related - because to do this now - for this bi awakening arc - its too loud and too big for 'just' a bi awakening arc - its about something bigger for Buck - something long term (and I'm not saying Buck being bi is't long term, because obviously it very much is - bi rep is so important!) him figuring out he is bi is a smaller part of a bigger whole for his character. The implication of the jeans returning is that this part of himself he has unlocked plays into a bigger story. Bucks search for self has always been about finding love - about being wanted and seen and accepted for who he is. As a costume designer, I wouldn't personally be putting him into jeans at this point unless it was related to his endgame - being bi isn't enough on its own for them to decide to visually show that he has fully found what he has been looking for on his search throughout the seasons (the white trainers still being in used also play into this) because he is still looking for that lasting happiness - he's just taken a massive step forward to figuring out what it is and where it lies.

With regards to colour theory and the paralleling of Buddie with other ships such as Bathena or Madney. Colour theory alone it wouldn't be enough to convince me, it is in combination with other factors such as the paralleling of Bathena and Madney that it comes into play. The thing is, creating those parallels and colour theory combinations doesn't have to lead to something. I'm going to do a terrible job of trying to explain this, but I'll give it a go.

Various people, who work on the show in some capacity have all commented over the years that they weren't expecting the level of chemistry that Oliver and Ryan have. We also know that they have played into the buddie of it all with some of the scene choices they've made - sort of an acknowledgement of what we're seeing - the elf scene in s2 is a prime example - a nod to fandom and the fact that they are being shipped together - and an acknowledgement of the chemistry - without it necessarily needing to mean more (the same goes for things like the text comments on the botfly influencer livestream call etc).

Back then wardrobe are still very much in character establishment mode - creating and defining the looks of the characters, and playing into colour theory on an individual level, not necessarily on a partnership level (S2 Bathena would've been treated in this way as they were already intended to be an end game couple so you can play into colour theory much earlier), that comes later. I wouldn't have been able to write costume metas in season 2-3 in the way I do now, because the parallels didn't exist and the ground work hadn't been laid.

Once you get past that intial establishing phase, hat is when you can start to play into the colour theory much more in relation to specific characters and pairings. One of the clearest examples of this is Eddies black shirt green trousers combo that he wears at the loft when having serious conversations with Buck. He first wears it in season 3 at the end of the lawsuit/fightclub arc (3x09), and then we dont see it again until season 5 (5x04) at yet another scene in Bucks loft.

The meaning of the colours in that scene are important sure, it is playing into colour theory, but what is happening visually is that we're subconciously connecting dots and remembering that Eddie has worn this outfit before to talk to Buck - that means it must be a serious conversation, one very much focused on something Buck has done (or hasn't done depending on which way you look at things). Eddie has been in Bucks loft on multiple occasions between those two scenes, and Buck and Eddie have had multiple serious conversations in the intervening episodes as well. so why that scene if its not meant to make us connect dots?

Now on a fundamental level, those two scenes can be read as establishing the close friendship Buck and Eddie share - that they are following through on their s2 promise to have each others backs. its entirely correct to assume that - it is after all what those scenes are establishing. But what it is also doing is laying the ground work for if they want to take Buddie further. we know that the conversations about Buddie have been happening in the writers room and on set for a good long while, and even if you don't yet know if you're going to go in that direction, you would be foolish not to lay the ground work in a subtle way if you can, so that the option is there if you did decide to take that direction.

A show will use what ever tools are at its disposal to lay various foundations that it can then pick and choose to build on as it wants or needs to. It is why we see the pictures in Eddies house moving around, why things on the fridge change (fridge theory is not as out there as some people would have you believe - there is a whole thing coming up on Eddies fridge in reaction to guts and the digestive system - which will very much be playing into his catholic guilt arc!) in Christophers room move around and change - its not just about him being a growing (soon to be teenager) boy, its also about laying foundations for story arcs they might choose to develop down the line and the Buddie groundwork is no different.

Its not about the wardrobe team being shippers of Buddie - its much more about them knowing where a season is headed (in brad strokes, even if they don't have specifics) being really good at their job and now being able to bear the fruits of their labour from earlier seasons - they had been doing the same with buck and Taylor - now they're doing it with Buck and Tommy (and Eddie). It would've been super easy to spin the costuming for Taylor into more positive colours - especially on Buck - in season 5, but they had the bigger picture and knew she wasn't going to remotely be endgame, so they were able to play into that throughout the season. Establishing Tommy as a version of Eddie is building on the Eddie groundwork they laid and using it to make it very clear that we are supposed to see the similarities between them - its steering us as viewers towards thinking 'oh Buck has a type - He's dating someone like his best friend - he should just date his best friend' is all about subtly nudging the audience in the right direction - towards Buddie - its just most people won't pick up on it in a conscious way.

I'm not sure if this makes any sense or if it even answered your ask, but essentially the show is using everything at its disposal to tell the story its telling and they have been laying groundwork that can take things in various directions - they are just choosing to push the buddie agenda to an increasing degree (and I have said groundwork far too many times in this post!!)

Thaks for the great ask 💜💜💜

[pillarsalt]

hi there!!! love your art first of all!! :)

i came across a rb of your cotton cieling/peaking comic (which i also love!) and saw in the notes how tims have scrubbed the tag since then. it made me curious how widespread the knowledge of their rape rhetoric actually is (since we know how happy they are to spew it when they know only lesbians are reading/listening, but we also know how hard they try to pretend to everyone else that they're tooootally not homophobic and toooootally don't have an incel meltdown at the mere thought of a lesbian saying "no" to them)

so i decided to see if wikipedia had an article on the ""cotton cieling"" (god i could go off on one about how these misogynists think "women are not given equal positions/mobility in the workforce" and "men get told 'no' by women they want to have sex with realllllly badly :-(" are at ALL comparable but this ask is long enough already) and guess what!? they DO but it has been NUKED to all hell.

right now? it's got zero citations/links, zero name drops of any Brave And Stunning men who promote it and write theory about it let alone naming the POS who coined it, barely even says what the definition even is... it's THE shortest article i've ever seen on there.

but look at the history tab!!! it used to be a fleshed out piece that was out and proud about claiming "lesbians not wanting to sleep with men is both oppressive and misogynistic" until at some point they realized saying the quiet part out loud where "normies" might see it was not a good idea and quietly scrubbed the article. (but they still keep it up!! as opposed to that female mod who made literal thousands of helpful factual edits, maintaining their site for free: she got banned the moment they found out she wasn't a handmaiden and all her work is theirs now i guess). and all the while, in the background, they've kept on coercing and pressuring lesbians to sleep with them nonstop with zero guilt or shame.

please for the love of god explain to me how they've convinced anyone who pays attention they're ""the most oppressed minority group who ever lived""???

holy shit anon you're right, that edits tab is crazyyy. They have definitely done a 180° on this subject, at least out loud where the average person can read it. The discussion page is another good read, LauraRichards1981 if you ever read this, you are a star and I love you.

Talking to other feminists and others who used to support genderism but "peaked", I would say at least half of them brought up the phenomenon of trans-identified men insisting lesbians have sex with them or be labeled bigots as at least one factor in their new outlook. It's so blatantly homophobic and I think a lot of influential figures in trans activism have realized how bad it looks for them, and have actively tried to memory hole it. I have even seen some claiming that "terfs" invented the term, which is hilarious because, as portrayed in my comic, I saw it with my own eyes being touted absolutely everywhere online as a way to vilify lesbians who wouldn't go along with every desire of the male trans individuals who had parasitized their communities. The DARVO is real.

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

TW bipolar discussion and nonconsensual kissing, mental health discussion

So about Saturn Girl kissing Jon without his ability to consent to it: I get that she isn't actively deciding to mind control the people around her, but she does have a choice in the matter. Her family wanted her to stay home until she could control her mind control powers, but she didn't want to and left. To me that's like if I noticed I was manic (not hypomanic) and didn't go to the mental hospital... Like I can't control my bipolar but I have the choice to stay away from others when it would harm them. That's not even a good comparison though because my judgement isn't clear enough to consistently do that when I'm manic, whereas she is at baseline and is able to think rationally. I wouldn't blame someone with bipolar because they have no choice, but I'm just saying the obvious choice would be to keep yourself away from others even if it's not fun for you. I feel like I can blame her, because she has a choice.

I do sympathize with her, but I really think she's hurting others disproportionately to the distress she feels stuck at home, and that's not okay.

If you look back on the events with the knowledge that she can't turn off her mind control, you see how manipulative she is, especially to Jon, and she does high-control group tactics: love bombing, isolation, guilt tripping, not letting him have rest alone where he would have time to realize he didn't want this.

I don't like the JonDami narrative that Jon was an asshole for leaving Damian in the past or was running away from his problems, because in my view he was dragged into a cult and I can't blame him for that, especially because he was extremely vulnerable at the time. I also don't believe Jon would have left in the first place if he knew up front that he couldn't bring Damian to at least visit him.

Jon had been in a state of fight or flight for around 6 years (not just talking about the volcano because there was also his verbally abusive grandpa and their deadly adventures and being trapped in space, and then him struggling to survive on the streets and trying to find a way home after he escaped) and the first time he really got a chance to cool down was when he was talking with Damian. He really needs a long break, therapy, and medication because what he went through can't be treated with therapy alone as the stress has chemical effects in the brain that need to be adjusted.

The writers don't care about how Jon should be extremely hypervigilant and defensive and anxious. I guess that's just not brave enough for a superhero, nevermind that leaving the house and getting treatment for these things, learning to trust again, and letting people help you is so much braver than punching guys when you have superpowers. It's natural to fight when your fight or flight is activated in a protective manner, but doing the logical thing when every signal in your body is telling you not to is really damn hard. The only coward is DC for giving Jon trauma and not actually writing a traumatized character.

That all being said, Damian clearly doesn't see how Jon is being manipulated, probably because his head is full of self hatred & doubting & repressed desires to ask Jon to stay, and thinks he needs to go against his abandonment trauma by swinging the pendulum too far in the opposite direction in his speech. With his c-ptsd and abandonment issues I can see him becoming bitter towards Jon for going to the future.

That could make for a really complex fanfiction, don't you think? The conflict coming from their unique life experiences and traumas, and them learning to understand each other like they're always doing. This misunderstanding of intentions born not out of something dumb like hearing the wrong thing or being unclear in language, but from their different points of view.

My jondami au where Jon leaves the legion early is calling me lmao "Isaac we have more problems for you to fix~"

That being said I have no exclusivity to these ideas for writing.