#james a. pierce iii

[nerds-yearbook]

The pilot for Black Lightening aired on January 16, 2018. Cress Williams played principal Jefferson Pierce, who secretly used to be the super hero Black Lightening. Events occured to cause him to suit up once more to protect his students and city. ("The Resurrection" Black Lightening, TV Event)

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Today marks seven years since Black Lightning aired it's Pilot epiosde in America which would run for four seasons and a total of 52 episodes. Did you watch the pilot on the day it aired or did you start after?

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 8/12)

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie is bad with words

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, moreee jealous!eddie, mentions of piercings, smut, King James III, flirting, tension tension tension, and eddie being... idk, here u go <3

word count: 6.2k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

“A date?”

The room has kicked into an orderly chaos compared to how it was just seconds ago. Richie is rallying the boys out of the room, an assistant is walking through with a trash bag to clean up the disastrous aftermath of pre-show rituals, and James is looking at you like you both have all the time in the world.

“Yeah, I mean… we don’t have to call it a date,” he shrugs, “we can just… hang out, maybe? Grab a bite to eat, maybe? Whatever you want.”

And oh god, Eddie was right.

And fuck— Eddie.

You scan the room for any sign of Eddie, but you find none, just the remains of smoke in the air and an irritated assistant picking up sticky bottles.

James’ hand has dropped from your waist, and his fingertips now lightly dance across the back of your hand, slinking around to grasp two of your fingers and give a light squeeze. Your heart races, eyes snapping back to his kind gaze. “Oh, um… okay, yeah.” You nod.

James smiles and tells you he’ll be out in the crowd with you in a little bit, and you nod before making your way out of the room. 

You said yes.

You said yes to James’ date, and honestly, a small part of you is excited because, god, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been on a date.

It’s hard to find time to date when you’re busy jumping from band to band, writing articles and music reviews, and still, somehow, managing to balance your own home life.

However, you were also under the impression that you and James had more of a friendship than anything romantic, so a bigger part of you is shocked (and slightly annoyed that Eddie managed to catch onto it before you did).

And then there’s that feeling. That tiny feeling in the corner of your mind that just wishes it was Eddie who had asked you. It’s a small feeling, yes, but it has a loud voice, and you find yourself growing irritated that you’re even thinking about Eddie when he only ever made things difficult.

But is it wrong to want somebody who doesn’t know what they want for themselves? Is it wrong to want someone who can’t even bring themselves to look you in the eye and be honest for one minute?

Because it’s no secret, the chemistry brewing between you and Eddie, from the moment you met, there was an obvious attraction, and the only thing that got in the way of that was Eddie’s aversion towards your job— which is beyond your control. 

And though there’s obviously a sexual attraction between you both, you can’t seem to deny the emotional connection you also share— because you and Eddie are more alike than what meets the eye.

Clearly, you both share a love for music, but you also grew up with similar experiences— from being teased for being and liking different things than your peers to having your heart broken by who you imagined would be your forever person.

God, why are you thinking about Eddie when you’ve just scored a date with James? 

You’re not paying attention when you step out of the dressing room, so you’re shocked and slightly spooked when you feel a hand wrapping around your bicep and tugging you off to the side of the door.

It’s Eddie; you know it’s Eddie because you’ve become an expert at depicting Eddie’s scent, and right now, you’re drowning in him. 

Eddie’s eyes are sharp and angry with a chilling undertone of something you can’t quite pinpoint. Fear? Jealousy? Resistance?

“Not into each other, huh?”

You blink at Eddie, still trying to find your way through the daze of events you’ve just gone through, and your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, “Oh, for fucks sake, Eddie. Are you serious—” “You can’t stand here and lie to me when I just witnessed whatever the fuck that was in there.” He gestures to the wall beside you, the wall that separates you and Eddie from James.

“It wasn’t anything.” You lie. 

Eddie doesn’t buy it, however, because he’s leaning in closer, alcohol and mint-coated breath fanning across your face as he calmly asks, “Then what did he say?”

You shake your head, dizzy with his proximity and the fear that James could walk out any second and see you and Eddie practically pressed against each other and misread the situation— because even though you may not precisely like James romantically, you still care for him, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. 

How will you let him down easily after the date, then? What if the date goes well, and James thinks you’re more interested in him than you actually are? This is a mess, and your mind is a whirlwind of things you shouldn’t have done.

You blink through the haze once again, “Huh?”

Eddie’s jaw ticks, “What did he say to you? You looked shocked; what’d he say?”

Oh god, Eddie saw that? You thought he’d maybe have gotten bored of watching, and now you wish Richie had bursted through the doors just a few seconds earlier. And why do you even care? Why do you care that Eddie saw or what his reaction might be if you tell him the truth? 

Your heart is racing, and Eddie’s eyes are beautiful, and he’s still holding your arm, and you hate how much you want to scream at him to just let you in. Because, suddenly, you don’t want to go on a date with James, even if James is the kinder route, the more willing candidate, the one that makes more sense.

“Why do you care, Eddie?” You snap.

“Because I,” Eddie pauses, frustration settling into his bones. He looks at you like you might be the only thing he’s ever truly seen, and you don’t realize how your fingers are curling around his elbow, both of your fingertips sinking into the warmth of what could be.

“Eddie!” 

Eddie removes his hand from you as if your skin is hot to the touch, and you drop your hand as well, curling your fingers into the palm of your hand and clenching with a deep breath.

Eddie turns to Richie, who’s holding a clipboard and barking directions at staff and crew. “Come on, man, you’re on in 30.” Richie waves his hand.

Eddie turns back to you, dark eyes now cleared and holding urgency as he speaks, “Can you just— fuck,” Eddie tugs at his curls, and your face twists in confusion. You say his name at the same time that Richie calls him once again, and Eddie grumbles, “One second, Rich!” Eddie calls back.

“Just don’t go anywhere for the first few songs, okay?”

“What?”

“Eddie, 10 seconds!” 

And Eddie’s pacing backward as he speaks to you, “Just the first few songs. Please?”

Please. You never thought you would hear that word coming from Eddie— and your stomach twists, but you nod anyway, and then Eddie’s off to the stage.

For some reason, tonight has spun out in ways you’re having trouble wrapping your mind around, and you barely hear James walking out of the room until he presses a gentle hand to your shoulder, pulling your eyes to him.

He has your lightweight jacket in one hand as he offers it to you, “I was thinking maybe we could dip out now? I know a good place for burgers, and I figure we’ve seen the show plenty of times now— I mean, unless if you’d still like to watch, that’s not a problem,” He’s rambling, and you find it cute, so you reach out a hand to press to his arm and thank him for your jacket.

And you feel bad, glancing over your shoulder as you hear the crowd screaming upon the band's entrance, but you figure James is right— you have seen the show plenty of times, so one night off won’t hurt, will it? And besides, it’s not the big finale yet, so you’re not really missing anything.

You nod as you slip on your jacket, “Yeah, let’s go; I’m in the mood for a good meal anyway.”

James’ universe is fun and bright and spontaneous, all things he is. It’s something you find yourself admiring as you watch him jump from game to game at the arcade he dragged you to after dinner.

You were both full and satisfied from heavy burgers and fries, and James decided you both needed a way to shake off the food coma; and, as James said, “What better way to wake up than lose money in a bunch of rigged games?”

You start strong with a winning streak in Mortal Kombat, Daytona USA, and Star Wars, but you eventually lose your stretch when James crushes you in Dance Dance Revolution. You made him go a second time, but you still lost, and James called your frown cute, and it made your stomach twist because— fuck, this is a date. You aren’t here as just friends.

You make your way around the arcade until you both decide to call it a night and wrap it up with a few rounds of Pac-Man. It’s chillier in the city tonight, so James takes it upon himself to haul over a taxi to take you both to the hotel.

It’s nearing midnight when you and James walk into the hotel lobby, well past the ending of the show, and you’re holding your breath all the way to the elevator, silence taking over when the doors shut. And tonight was fun and lighthearted, and you’d hate to end it on a dull note.

You should just rip the bandaid off. Do it quick and get it over with so you don’t mislead James, because god, he’s such a good guy, and you’re just… you’re all confused with yourself and— fuck, James is looking at you, just do it.

“I think we should just stay friends.” You rush out.

If James is surprised, you wouldn’t be able to tell by a long shot because he’s simply shoving a hand in his pockets and shrugging, “Yeah, I kind of figured when you avoided holding my hand.” He scratches at his neck, and you fail to hold back the sympathetic twist on your face, “I had a really great time, I did, but I just can’t do anything serious right now…” You shyly explain, and James nods his head.

It falls awkwardly silent, and you curse Richie for booking the entire crew near the top of the building because the floor numbers seem to change slower than the seasons. James breaks the silence just four floors away from your destination, “It’s Eddie, isn’t it?”

You freeze at that, head snapping to look at James in shock, “I— what?”

James shrugs for the second time and turns to the doors, “I kind of clocked it as soon as you joined; you two have some weird thing going on.” He halfheartedly teases, and you feel your body heating up because if James can notice it, then who else has noticed it? God, this is more of a mess than you thought.

“Nothing is going on there,” you lie, “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Eddie hates my guts, so.” You jokingly shrug. James laughs to ease the tension, only glancing back at you when you slow to a stop and the doors open, “I had a fun night, too, by the way. No hard feelings.” And with a wink, he wanders off to his room, and you’re left stepping out into the hallway. When you turn the corner, you find yourself wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole because right outside of your door stands Eddie Munson.

He watches you walk down the empty hall until you stand before him. He’s leaning a shoulder against your doorframe, one hand tucked in his pocket as the other works his cigarette back and forth from his lips. He’s in his usual all-black attire, and his eyes are dark beneath the smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow from the show. And it seems as if he got off the stage and came straight here, seeing as his hair is still slightly damp with sweat and the chains on his neck stick to his chest.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke, dark hooded eyes peering down at you with a gaze so sharp you almost cower, “Where were you?”

Jesus Christ, the audacity of this man.

Your initial thought is to snap back at him and ridicule him for being an asshole— and what’s his deal with always coming to your room? But then you remember you walked out on him when he’d asked you to stay for the first few songs.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I—” “You went on a date.”

You freeze at that, blinking up at him as your face twists in confusion, “How do you know that?”

“Because where else would you be?” He counters.

“Maybe I got sick.” You argue, and Eddie raises an eyebrow, eyes dancing over your figure, “You don’t look sick.” He points out.

Your eyebrows pinch in frustration as Eddie takes another hit of his cigarette, “What do you want? I already said I’m sorry— which is much more than you’ve ever done, by the way.” 

“I said sorry.” Eddie snaps. Eddie snuffs out his cigarette in the large plant next to the door as you scoff, turning to angrily shove your keycard into the door, “What, that shitty apology in the garden alleyway? You call that an apology? How fucking dense are you?” You open the door, moving to step in until Eddie’s fingers wrap around your arm, turning you back to him, “I said sorry. An actual apology, I did it, and you weren’t fucking there to hear it.” He seethes.

And woah, what the fuck does that mean? You weren’t there to hear it? What does he mean?

You blink, head shaking in confusion as you gaze up at Eddie, brows furrowed, eyes searching for an answer as you ask, “What do you mean?”

Eddie’s eyes are so beautiful, with swirling pools of forest ground and the tiniest specks of honey, and you believe somewhere within his eyes lives a fairy that gives him that ability to pull you in every time. He’s a hypnosis of a human, and it’s dangerous the way you can’t seem to fight through it.

Your eyes flutter shut when Eddie leans close enough to graze his lips over yours, and your heart races in anticipation of a kiss, but you can physically feel Eddie holding himself back.

“Eddie,” you lowly say, “What do you mean?”

Eddie turns his head to where his lips kiss the skin of your cheek, breath tickling the warm skin and sending shivers down your spine. He lets out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes tight and muttering a curse under his breath as your hands slink up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt. The soft, curly strands of Eddie’s hair dance across your lips, and you want to scream because every inhale and exhale of your lungs is full of nothing but Eddie.

His name prances across your tongue once more, and Eddie cracks.

Eddie cracks wide open; one last hit of your hammer, and he’s putty in your hands, mouthing at you as if his life depended on it, devouring you and breathing you and pushing you until you have nowhere to go but inside your room.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. “I’m sorry… let me make it up to you.”

You’re breathless and dizzy from lack of air, and Eddie is pushing you back onto the hotel bed, “I— what?”

Eddie’s fingers slip under your top, cool fingers pressing into your warm skin and causing your breath to hitch against his lips, “Let me make you feel good.” Eddie whispers against your lips.

And fuck, this is insane. 

This is insane.

Just a few hours ago, you would’ve shoved Eddie away from you and told him to eat shit, but for some reason, with the way Eddie’s touching you and talking so gently, you find your body melting into his touch as you nod your head. “Yes?” Eddie seems like he doesn’t believe it, and your stomach twists as you clench your thighs together, nodding once more, “Yes.” You confirm.

Eddie kisses you once again, hastily and eagerly, as his hands push your top further up your torso. Your muscles tense and twitch beneath Eddie’s calloused fingers, and Eddie hums against the softness of your mouth, panting against your lips as he repeats, “Gonna make you feel good. Make up for what I did.”

You breathlessly laugh, “S’gonna take a lot more than this, Munson.” 

And although you were slightly serious with that comment, you suppose Eddie takes it as more of a challenge as he shoves your top entirely over your chest, pulling away to tug the shirt off of you and toss it to the side.

Eddie surges forward to press sloppy kisses against the uncovered skin of your chest, sucking tiny little marks as he moves further down your body, pressing a hand to your chest to push you down into the bed when he reaches the waistband of your skirt.

It’s a black denim skirt, and Eddie takes a moment to admire how they hug your thighs perfectly— and he can’t seem to bring himself to remove it from your waist, so he pushes the skirt up around your hips instead. Your heart is racing, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks as you attempt to close your thighs, but Eddie places his palms flat against the warm insides of them.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me already. I haven’t even taken off these cute little panties of yours.” Eddie presses a thumb to your cotton-covered clit, dragging the pad of his thumb down your slit and pressing into the damp spot. Your breath hitches, sparks flying throughout your body, and Eddie smiles. You whine, “I thought you were apologizing.” You frown.

Eddie hums, leaning forward to press a kiss right where your thigh meets the fold of your pussy. You squirm, and Eddie snickers, “I am.” He responds.

You sit up to lean on your elbows, glaring down at him between your thighs as you speak, “You’re not. You’re just teasing me.” You point out.

Eddie doesn’t respond as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, drags them down your legs, and drops them to the side, gaze flickering up to yours as you clench your thighs together. Eddie holds your gaze as he wraps his arms around your thighs, hooking his hands into the dip of your waist and tugging you to the edge of the bed. Your center throbs in anticipation as Eddie sinks to his knees on the carpet floor, dark eyes still locked onto yours as he fits his upper body between your thighs.

And Eddie doesn’t even bother looking between your thighs when he dips his head in and begins devouring you.

Eddie, you find, eats pussy like he has all the time in the world.

He’s sloppy with it, lapping at your center and suckling your clit until you’re a whiney mess beneath him. His fingers curl into the denim skirt that’s bunched around your hips, and his rings tauntingly wink up at you under the light as he clenches his fist against the material, tugging you closer to him so he can thrust his tongue further into you.

While Eddie is busy tasting you, you scramble to reach behind your back and unhook your bra. Between your thighs, Eddie watches as you toss the garment off to the side before cupping your tits in your hands and rolling your nipple between your middle and forefingers. Eddie moans against you, burying his face deeper into you and suckling enough to have you crying out in pleasure.

Eddie pulls back for a moment, sticky strings of his saliva and your arousal dripping from his lips as he removes one hand from your waist to sink two fingers into your cunt. You pant out his name, your face twisting in pleasure when he curls his fingers up against your walls. Your eyes are screwed shut so you don’t see Eddie leaning forward to purse his lips together and let a drop of saliva drip over your pussy and sinfully coat your clit. He’s quick to attach his mouth to the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you reach out a hand to thread your fingers through his hair, knuckles curling at the root to drag an animalistic growl from Eddie.

Eddie is one of the best, if not the best, head you’ve ever received. By the time you begin teetering over the edge, your thighs are twitching and tensing as if you’ve already come undone, and your chest is heaving beneath Eddie’s fingers as he toys with your tits.

When you cum, Eddie becomes greedier than he’d been before, licking and slurping up every last drop you have to give until you’re twitching away from him and pressing a shaky hand to his shoulder. 

Eddie slinks up your body, sinking his fingers into his mouth to clean off your wetness before you slink an arm around his shoulders and pull him down to kiss you. Eddie’s fingers are wet as they cup the left side of your face, and the feeling of something wet on your face would usually have you cringing in distaste, but you only moan and press yourself further into Eddie.

You mumble for him to take his shirt off, and Eddie follows swiftly, too eager to go back to kissing you. He shivers when your hands meet his bare chest, fingertips exploring the vast expanse of untold stories in ink, hard yet plush muscles of his arms flexing beneath your touch. 

“I wasn’t done saying sorry.” Eddie pants against your lips, and you breathily laugh, “You can finish some other time; I want to feel you now.” You respond, busying your hands with trailing down his lower stomach, sinking past the waistband of his leather pants.

Eddie kisses his way down your neck to begin sucking pretty bruises into the skin, and your core clenches when you realize Eddie is wearing nothing beneath the leather pants— and you try hard not to imagine how he’s probably been pressed up against the rough fabric, achy tip undeniably receiving pleasure from the sinful ways he uses his hips when he’s on stage. 

Your shock doesn’t end there, however, because when you sink lower to wrap your hand around his cock, your body goes still at the feeling beneath your fingertips. Against the fiery skin of your cheek, you feel Eddie’s lips stretch into a smile and your heart races.

“What’s the matter, princess? Find something you like, hm?” Eddie can’t help the way his voice shakes near the end because you're giving his cock an experimental squeeze and running a finger over the sudden surprise.

You smile as you speak, “Is that a piercing?”

Eddie hums, turning his head, nose smashing against the side of yours as he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Maybe..” He teasingly confirms.

And god, you might pass out.

Eddie’s dick is pierced. You’re not sure what more you’d expect from a rockstar, but you’re still shocked and ushering him to remove the annoying restriction of his pants.

When Eddie finally gets rid of his leather pants, you’ve shifted to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, and Eddie stalks over to the edge of the bed, beckoning you over.

You don’t waste time crawling over to him, eyes stuck on the pretty sight before you. And sure, it’s not the first time you’ve seen a pierced dick (you’ve spent too much time working with rockstars), but it sure as hell is the first time you’ll be fucking one— not to mention his cock is perfect. It’s shaped and cut to perfection, something you’d expect from a pornstar, but Eddie is not a pornstar, and god, the sight of the metal barbell nestled right beneath the pink tip on the underside of his cock— it’s dizzying to see.

You peer up at Eddie, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking him once, chest fluttering when he fails to hold back a moan. “It’s really pretty, Eddie.” You softly say, and Eddie sheepishly and breathlessly laughs as you squeeze at his tip. “Want you to fuck me with it.”

Eddie groans, muttering a curse as he leans forward to press his lips against yours, pushing you until you’re crawling back up the bed to lay beneath him.

“I’ve never been with someone with a piercing…” You admit, and Eddie smiles at you, and your stomach twists when he reaches down to gently guide your movement up and down the length of his cock.

“Really? You’ve never fucked a pierced cock before?” He manages to say through his pleasure. Your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek as you shake your head no, and Eddie snickers when you ask, “Have you?”

His lips quirk into a smile, “Honey, you think I got the piercing done without a test run on how it feels?” He jokes.

You snort at that, and Eddie beams at you. You swipe your thumb over his leaking tip, and Eddie curses, watching as you mindlessly bring the glistening pad of your finger up to your tongue and hum. 

“How’s it taste, sweetheart?” Eddie teases, and you hum as you respond, “Good. So good, wish I could taste more—” “No, no, no.” Eddie cuts you off with a shake of his head, reaching down to wrap a fist around himself.

“This isn’t about me. Plus, I’m losing my patience right now; I’ve been thinking about this since I fucking met you.” He presses himself flat against your pussy, and you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as he rolls his hips to slide himself up and down your wet cunt, the cool metal of the piercing catching onto your clit and sending shivers up your spine.

His gaze falls between your thighs to watch as your slick centers meet, cursing at the way your wet folds part around each drag of his cock. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess, fuck.” He rasps.

Your mind is spinning with the roll of Eddie’s hips, his dirty compliment, and his admission that he’s thought of fucking you before. You don’t dare to tell him you’ve thought of it too or that you’ve gotten off to the thought of it. You don’t even have to think about it because the tip of Eddie’s cock is catching the slickness of your entrance, and you’re gasping, body jerking in pleasure. Your lips accidentally smear against Eddie’s shoulder, and he hums, tilting his head and dipping to catch your lips in a sloppy kiss.

As he distracts you with his mouth, he slowly presses into you, and you lose your ability to keep up with Eddie’s lips because holy fuck— Eddie is bigger than you thought. Sure, you got a good look at him when he removed his pants to show you his surprise, but your mind must’ve been too muddled with lust to clock the size of him.

You can feel everything as he sinks into you, every vein running up the sides, and the mind-numbing sensation of the barbell as he presses into you. “Holy shit,” you breathlessly whisper against the skin of his shoulder, legs tightening around his waist as the burning yet toe-curling feeling settles in. Eddie snickers above you, “That good?”

You’re coherent enough to snap back at his cockiness, “No.”

Eddie laughs, and you want to make a snippy comeback, but it gets lost on your tongue when Eddie gives his hips one experimental roll.

Eddie is pathetically close to cumming.

Eddie’s cock has only been nestled within your warm, wet, pulsing walls for barely two minutes, and he’s about to blow like he’s a goddamn teenager— and it doesn’t help how heavenly you sound and look writhing beneath him.

Eddie’s not sure where to look; your face, your tits, or the hypnotizing sight of your cunt sucking him in over and over with each thrust he gives you. “Fuck,” he curses, “You’re taking me so well, princess.” He leans in the nose at your cheek before licking at the curve of your jaw, shivering at the wet moan you pant into his ear.

“Been hiding this pretty pussy from me?” Eddie hums, sucking a delicate bruise right below your ear. And god, Eddie could spend forever like this, drilling into you and marking you everywhere and pulling these pretty sounds from you. Eddie’s so close, oh god.

You mewl at his words, hips squirming as Eddie snaps his hips into you, “No,” you whine, “You’ve been mean to me.” And Eddie thinks you’re awfully cute when you’re blissed out and pouting. And your eyes are glossy, lips slick with spit and swollen from kissing.

Eddie wishes he had a photographic memory because he doesn’t want to forget a single detail of this moment. Eddie has one hand clutching the sheets beside your head as he lets the other hand coast up your side to land on your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple to pull a moan from you. “I know,” Eddie lowly replies, “I’m sorry, princess.” He kisses your chin, and you clench around him.

Eddie’s fist clenches around the sheet, fighting to hold himself back as he presses deep into you and stills, cock twitching within your walls. “Gonna let me show you how sorry I am?” He asks.

You're hazy and cockdrunk, and Eddie can’t wait to unpack the fact that you go braindead when you’re fucked good. Eddie nudges himself into you, although he’s pressed all the way into your cunt, and you whimper before eagerly nodding.

“Yeah?” Eddie teases. You nod again, fingers digging into Eddie’s arm as you speak, “Yes, Eddie— fuck. Yeah, show me, please.”

Eddie almost loses it.

It’s slightly scary how much Eddie likes this, how much he’s enjoying this— the feeling of you beneath him, the wetness, the heat, the sweat-sticky touches, and the sloppy smattering of kisses. God, Eddie’s in love with it.

The short five-second break Eddie managed to pull from questioning (teasing) you was enough for him to get ahold of himself. Eddie sits up and grasps the back of your knee, hauling your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle at fucking you, and you gasp when his cock rubs against your spot.

Eddie doesn’t waste time once he gets the position situated. He leaves one hand splayed beside your head to hold him up as the other hand grips the warm flesh of your thigh before resuming his thrusting, this time at a deeper and quicker pace.

The sound of skin meeting and the wet sloshing noise of sex echoes through the room amongst the mix of moans and sultry-soaked remarks. Eddie doesn’t notice his hand slipping from your thigh and slinking up to wrap around your neck, but he hesitates when you whimper. He almost removes his hand, but you wrap a shaky hand around his wrist and nod— and fuck, Eddie will never be the same man after this.

Eddie can feel the heat and the pulse of your heart as his fingers tighten around your neck. Your moans are becoming more and more frequent and higher in pitch, and Eddie can feel the way you’re fluttering around him more sporadically, and he can’t wait to feel it when you cum.

Eddie leans over you, lips brushing your parted ones as he encourages you to let go, “Come on, let me feel it. I’m not leaving until you soak my cock, princess.”

Your body is on fire.

It’s almost alarming how easily and well Eddie has unraveled you. His presence is nearly overwhelming with the way he’s hovering so close over you, but you love it— the tickle of his long curls on your shoulders and chest, the intoxicating smell of him, the dizzying hold he has around your neck— you preen for it.

You’re so close when Eddie tells you to cum, and you barely have enough time to prepare for the earth-shattering orgasm that ripples through you the second Eddie presses a thumb to your aching clit and rubs tight circles against it.

Your body tenses, and your moans crack upon the surface as you melt into him until you’re nothing but a quivering mess. Eddie talks you through it, tells you how pretty you sound and how good you feel wrapped around him. Your orgasm had hit you so hard that you barely registered the broken moan that came from Eddie before he pushed deep into you and emptied every last drop of himself into your pulsing heat.

Eddie curses, his cock pulsing within you, and you let out an exhausted yet satisfied sigh when he rolls his hips into you once more. You’re both silent for a long moment as you come back down to earth, Eddie’s forehead pressed against your shoulder as you subconsciously let your hand run up the side of his torso.

Eddie shifts to turn his head to where he can slightly see your face as he still hides against your shoulder, “Apology accepted?”

Saturday morning, the next day, you wake up and want to bury yourself under the hotel sheets.

Last night was… interesting, to say the least. It was good— mind-blowing— but you still have that lingering feeling in your chest that maybe you and Eddie shouldn’t have slept together. Maybe you let him in too quickly. Maybe it was all a lie, Eddie’s ‘apology’. All the gentle caresses and the passion-filled kisses with the heart flutter words. Maybe it was all for show, just to get you to let your walls down so he could have at you.

Eddie didn’t spend the night with you.

In fact, Eddie practically ran out the door after your extremities were over, and you were left with the aftermath of spinning thoughts and an aching chest. So much for sorry.

The dining room is buzzing with chatter and laughter of excitement— today is the last off day before the final show of the residency— but you’re too in your head to join in on the conversation because Eddie won’t even look at you.

Your throat feels tight, and you spend the majority of breakfast just pushing your food around the plate, and you manage to pull a smile and nod your head when Naomi asks if you’re okay. But fuck, you want to scream.

You should’ve never believed Eddie when he told you he’d change or when he practically spent the entire night worshipping your body and begging for your forgiveness. Eddie didn’t want forgiveness. He just wanted to fuck you, and you should’ve known that from the second he kissed you.

But Eddie’s kisses can tell a hell of a lie, and damn you for falling for them.

You’re spooked when you feel a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s Richie, and he peers down at you and gives you a tight-lipped smile as he leans in and lowly speaks, “Can I speak with you outside?”

You nod, dropping your fork onto your plate and quietly rising from your chair. And for the first time today, Eddie looks at you. Your chest tightens, and you think it’s stupid that you’d been upset about this because it’s Eddie for fucks sake. He’s a rockstar, and he surely never made the mistake of presenting himself as if he was anything other than a man who fucks whoever they want and moves on the next day. Eddie’s jaw ticks, he looks away, and you bite your tongue as anger floods your body.

You ignore it as you turn around and follow Richie into the hallway.

You’re hardly paying attention when you both step out of the room, but the slamming of the door is the cue for Richie to start speaking. “Listen, Birdie,” he begins, “You know I adore you. I’m always in your corner, no matter what… But I have to put my boys first.”

It’s concerning, the way Richie is beginning this conversation, and it’s even worse when he can’t seem to look you in the eye for more than five seconds at a time. Your heart rate picks up, and you begin to think maybe…

No, Richie can’t know. There’s no way he’d know, right? Unless if someone told him. One of the band members, or James, or— fuck, there’s too many people that know at this rate. But you didn’t think it would reach Richie.

No, you’re just spinning out. Richie doesn’t know, and this is about something else; it has to be.

You shake your head, brows furrowed as you speak, “I’m not sure I understand.”

Richie glances around the corridor and shifts in his spot, scratching at the back of his neck as he speaks, “Listen, I uh,” he glances at you, and your heart drops because you now know why he’s pulled you aside. 

“I know about you and Eddie.”

————

part nine

————

a/n: hiiii, you made it to the end !! IM SORRY FOR ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER FRIENDS, i promise there won't be anymore from here on out (i think hehe), BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS SMUTTY LITTLE PART, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate all and any feedback <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn

[mrsparrasblog]

How I met your father pt.1

An COD au for the series How I met your mother, the boys are civilian in this and live in London.

Reader is described as plus sized

Tw: Author only knows shit about London from vacation

--------

James and Sophia sat on the couch in the living room, bantering about what they should watch today. It was usual for the kids to start World War III over TV privileges. Sophia won and settled for a romance movie. “Mom, how did you and Dad get married?”

“It was the summer of 2021. Your Uncle John and Aunt Holly had finally gotten engaged. They were searching for their own apartment in London, which led me to move in with Johnny in a shoebox apartment in Ealing. He was working as a gym instructor at that time—hard to believe, I know—but he needed that extra money for his law studies. I was still working at the investment banking firm where I met Kyle. We spent most of our time at a pub in London called The Swan near Hammersmith.”

“Are you getting to the point?”

“It’s a long story, sweetheart.”

“I wish I never asked.”---------

----------------

Price and Holly had been all over each other since their engagement, his hands never leaving her hips, her lips never leaving his. You were glad for your best friend, but the urge to settle down yourself grew every day.

That day, Simon came into the pub. You had never seen him before, but you were mesmerized instantly. He was the biggest man you had ever seen—bulky, handsome and dressed in a black turtleneck.

“Bonnie, are you even listening?” Johnny complained, tugging on your arm as he always did when he tried to grab your attention.

“That guy at the bar? I’m going to marry him and have a bunch of blonde-haired mini-versions of him,” you declared. He was the definition of your dream man.

Kyle eyed Simon and smirked. “I can understand that. I’d fuck him—both of you at the same time if you’d let me, babe.” That earned him a swat from Price.

“You fuck everything that has two legs and is above 21.”

“If you look this good, it would be unfair to settle down.”

“Yes, what would the girls do without a Kyle Garrick by their side?” Holly replied sarcastically.

Holly and you had known each other for ages, even before her transition. You were there for her during the hardest time of her life, supporting her when her parents kicked her out. You found a small apartment in Brent and moved in with her.

One day, Mrs. Miller from downstairs forgot to take out her roast, and the apartment complex was engulfed in flames. You thought it was over, but that’s when you met John Price. He was very new to firefighting then—not the imposing captain he is now. He was just John.

“I think everything will be better now,” Holly said, and she was right. She got together with John a few weeks later. As for you, you met Johnny in college. You were hurrying down the stairs when you ran into him. You were ready to hear, “Watch where you’re going, cow,” but instead, he helped you up, and just like that, you became inseparable. Johnny and you spent every day together—shopping, studying for exams, cooking. You even held his hand when he got his nipples pierced, and he was there when you got that terrible UTI from a one-night stand. At one point, you were sure John MacTavish was your soulmate, but you were content with being his platonic soulmate, playing the role of the funny friend.

You motivated him to go to law school even when no one believed he could do it with his ADHD. Johnny had his first internship at the investment banking firm where you got your job in HR. Everything was perfect, and then you met Kyle.

Kyle could be a supermodel. He won the genetic lottery many times over—he had the prettiest face, a perfect muscular body, and, according to half the office, the biggest dick you could wish for. Despite the odds that he would even notice you, he spent every lunch with you and became one of your best friends, much to Johnny's chagrin.

“He’s not that good-looking, Bonnie. You deserve better.”

“Are you blind?” Even John could appreciate a handsome man when he saw one, and the blonde, scarred guy was beautiful.

“He’d probably crush you. He looks like the type who’d fuck you and never call you back,” Johnny protested. He knew what he said was unfair, but he just wanted to protect you.

“Are you implying I’m only good for one night, John Callan MacTavish?”

“Full name, Johnny—you better run.” John laughed as if you weren’t close to telling Kyle that Johnny’s middle name was William. Kyle had offered you £1,000 for John’s middle name.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, Bonnie. He’s just not good enough.”

“I can decide that for myself, Johnny.”

“Before you start World War III, maybe find out if he’s actually single,” Holly suggested, and she was right. So you looked at Kyle with puppy eyes.

“Don’t worry, babes. I’ll handle it.” Kyle was the perfect wingman, though Johnny always declined his offers.

“Hey, mate, mind if I actually sit down?” Kyle asked, not waiting for Simon’s reply and already sitting down.

Simon only replied with a gruff hello, not in the mood for the overly cheerful man. He was here because he had to be. His brother’s wife had organized a blind date for him. He had half a mind to stand her up but didn’t want to disappoint Beth.

“So, you’re waiting for someone?”

“I missed the part where this is your business.”

“So, no date? Single?”

“I have a blind date.”

“What’s her name?”

Simon just stared at him. If he left now, he could watch the Manchester game against Tottenham.

“I’m just asking because my friend has a blind date and wasn’t sure if it’s you.”

Simon could detect a lie from a mile away, but he was interested in where this was going, so he lied, “Rachel.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’ll show you, Rachel.” Fucking liar, Simon thought, but then he saw you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered as he stood up, walking towards you.

His blind date was forgotten—sorry, Beth—but you were exactly his type, shorter than him with the right amount of curves. You had a beautiful smile and a face that almost made him forget about your soft chest that pushed against your shirt and the belly pouch he wanted to grab as he rutted inside of you. Concentrate, Simon.

He extended his hand, and you shook it, looking at him with big eyes. “Hi,” you said, your breath almost stuck in your throat. His smirk grew wider, noticing the effect he had on you.

“Simon.”

“Simon?”

“Simon.”

You wanted to punch yourself for being so awkward, but all the confidence left your body. You wanted to run back to Johnny and beg him for help, but if you had looked back, you would only see anger in his baby-blue eyes.

“Let’s go to the restaurant. I have a reservation.” You looked confused but only nodded. How did he have a reservation if he didn’t even know you four minutes ago? But that’s a question for another day.

The Italian restaurant was beautiful, far from the tourists. It looked authentic, and the staff was overly nice.

“So, what do you do, Simon?” you asked, pushing your fork into the pasta.

“I was a lieutenant in the army but got discharged. I’m doing tattoos now.” His voice sounded gruff, and you weren’t sure if it was just his voice or if he was annoyed by you. You didn’t even know what major lies Kyle had told him about you—hopefully not something like the time, he told a girl he was Lewis Hamilton. He did look like him, though.

“Do you have many tattoos yourself?” Curiosity piqued, you couldn’t see much behind his long black pants and the turtleneck. The only evident body modification was the piercing on his tongue you noticed.

He pulled his sleeves up, revealing tattooed sleeves covering some scars. You wouldn’t have noticed them if your manicured finger hadn’t instinctively traced the fine lines of the beautiful artwork.

“You like them?”

“Yes, a lot.”

“I have a few more.”

“How many is a few?” You didn’t have the guts to ask where.

“About 23. Do you have any?” You remembered how you wanted to get one the day Johnny got his piercing, but you chickened out as usual.

“I’m afraid of needles.”

“It only hurts like this,” he replied, tracing the outline of his jewelry on your skin, giving you goosebumps and shivers. Embarrassing—you were acting like a schoolgirl because an overly handsome man gave you attention. “Tell me what you do for a living, love.”

You didn’t have a cool job like him or John, a well-paid one like Kyle’s, or as sexy as Johnny’s. “I’m just an HR coordinator.”

“Leave the ‘just’ out of that sentence.”

The server rolled out a TV, starting the Premier League game. You desperately wanted to watch it—oh god, you promised Johnny you’d watch it.

“What’s so interesting there?” He looked around. “Into football?” His caramel-colored eyes lit up, and he seemed smitten.

“Yes, I love Tottenham.”

“Do you want to send me to an early grave? My date is a Tottenham fan?”

“Hey, they’re good! Are you a Manchester fan?”

“Of course, born and bred there.”

“Tottenham will win.”

“In your dreams.”

You watched the game in anticipation, screaming your lungs out when Tottenham scored. Even if he wanted to be disgusted, he could get used to this—a soft little thing watching football with him.

Maybe he’d even get lucky today. He still needed to work on your taste, though.

You walked outside the restaurant, too distracted by cheering and laughing to notice his big hands around your waist as he walked with you towards his apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was above his shop in Camden.

“We’ll win next time,” he said, his thumb kneading the flesh of your hip.

“Sure you will.” He stopped at an ice cream shop next to his apartment. “What’s your favorite?”

“Honeydew melon.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Say something normal like strawberry.” He laughed, flicking his thumb over your lips. You automatically parted them and stopped pouting at his ice cream insult.

He ordered your ridiculous ice cream choice and for himself, dark chocolate ice.

“Want to try?”

“No.”

You licked the ice as some of the remaining cream stayed on your lips. “Not even now?”

“Cheeky little minx.” His burly hands cupped your full cheeks as he placed his lips hungrily on yours. He could curse that you were right again—the ice cream was delicious. His hands drifted down to your hips, groaning as they filled his big hands. He wanted more, needed more, so he pushed you against the wall, placing his hand behind your back to protect you from the cold.

The kiss was perfect, but when you felt his way too big bulge against your stomach, overthinking thoughts bombarded you. You didn’t shave, what if he didn’t like your body, you had on a pink thong and a grandma bra, what if he was a serial killer? You panicked, and before Simon could address your panic, you were already running to the next tube station.

“That’s a first,” he muttered.

You walked inside, finding Johnny half-naked as usual on the couch, glaring at you. “You missed the match.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. I’m an idiot.”

“You ran away again?”

“Mhm.”

He sighed as he walked to the fridge, his six-pack glistening with sweat, probably from a workout. You should be used to that sight after six years, but it still made you breathless. “Got a tub of honeydew ice cream and vinegar crisps.”

You planted yourself on the small couch and dipped the crisps in the ice as Johnny listened to everything you had to say.

[violetmuses]

Versus - A. Aretas (Part III) 💔

Title: Versus - A. Aretas (Part III) 💔

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: One decision will change everything.

Tag List: @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @nobodygetsza @peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky 🏷

Part I ❤️‍🩹

Part 2 ❤️‍🩹

=====

2024

Shortly after your home settled down from those unexpected visitors, this doorbell rang once more.

Checking that RING camera again, you realize that Armando returned to the porch this time.

“What, did y'all forget something?” You barely opened the door, almost nervous.

“C'mon…” Aretas tried.

“What?” You don't even understand his point, not yet at least.

“I don't have much time before leaving, but we're doing this together.” Armando grounded reality.

“Say less.” You vowed, rushing to prepare for the battle yourself.

******

Outright monster James McGrath veiled his dark operations by working through one abandoned alligator park located somewhere deep in Florida.

“Armando's with Callie! Trail ‘em.” Mike Lowrey gritted his teeth amid crossfire and set your instructions for the mission.

McGrath just kidnapped Mike's wife Christine and even took Captain Howard's granddaughter Callie hostage. You fumed, raging from within.

___

“We're right here!” Callie lifted both palms for your vantage point just in case.

Yet wounds riddled Armando's body as this tree anchored his weakened presence.

“She…put me down by this tree. I'm okay…” His accented English struggles through pain, rightfully so.

“Kay…” Nodding down toward Armando, you're still protective despite everything.

“Hands up, Detective!” Marshal Judy Howard prompted your attention.

Raising both hands slowly, you turn around as expected.

“Mom, please don't hurt anyone!” Callie reveals tears, noting Aretas and you. “Armando saved my life and the detective looked out for us.”

“Move out of the way, Callie.” Judy continued staying armed.

“Mom, no!” Right when Callie shouted once more, Judy pulled the trigger.

Your body fell backwards as red dampened this tactical gear.

Yet, one lethal bullet pierced directly between your eyes, marking Judy's instant plan.

“Let me up, let up!” Right away, Armando wants Callie to help him stand from the ground, but immediately signals his father. “Mike, Mike!”

Seconds later, Detective Mike Lowrey joined this spot in the wilderness alongside Marcus Burnett as Judy keeps holding that firearm.

“What the fuck?!” Mike and Marcus shouted over this permanent view of your dead body.

“What happened?” Mike glanced toward Judy, both distraught and angered.

“I aimed for Armando but…”Judy revealed the truth about your death. “She wanted to protect him and Callie…”

“Aw, damn!” Genuinely crying, Marcus knelt toward your body this time.

“We can't call it in. Everyone will see Armando first.” Judy sniffled after holstering the firearm.

“What do you suggest?” Mike sought true guidance.

“Go. Leave with Armando before I change my mind.” Judy held her daughter Callie, but Mike understood this point.

Leave before everyone freaks out.

====

2025

Despite everyone marking calendars regardless, time slowed down.

The Miami Police Department lost joy while Marcus and Mike stopped laughing together.

Even your pictures still greeted desks at the precinct, showing camaraderie and highlighting true friendship.

“Listen to this, man.” Bringing his cell phone, Mike walked toward Marcus one afternoon.

“Hey, Lowrey! It's my day off.” Your laughter chimed this old voicemail. “Are we still planning cookouts for the department? I'll be there, just don't let Marcus eat Skittles. See you later, bye.”

“She'd sit in the corner with a plate now.” Marcus almost chuckled to avoid pain.

Memories could last forever.

[liliesmultiverse]

⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙- *̩̩̥͙ 1st tvd reality intro!!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ reality info!!

: ̗̀➛ it's currently september 1, 2009

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ about me!!

name: elena liliana gilbert

nickname(s): lily, lils, lil, lena, lenny, el, ellie, buttercup

age: 17

date of birth: june 22, 1992

birthplace: mystic falls, virginia

ethnicity: greek-bulgarian

species: human doppelgänger (currently)

height: 5’4”

occupation: high school junior & bartender at the mystic grill

sexuality: bisexual

pronouns: she/her

other info: i still look exactly like elena did in the show except i have long curly blonde hair, light green eyes and freckles across the bridge of my nose & cheeks

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ my backstory!!

: ̗̀➛ i was born on june 22, 2008 in mystic falls, virginia to isobel flemming & johnathan ‘john’ gilbert iii, though neither of them wanted me so i was ‘adopted’ immediately after my birth. when i was 11, bonnie showed me & caroline her magic and swore us to secrecy and when i was 13, i accidentally found johnathan gilbert’s journals and learned about the existence of vampires. after learning about vampires, i convinced my parents to enroll me into boxing, taekwondo & aikido classes. when i started high school, i joined the softball team instead of doing cheerleading. a few weeks before my adoptive parents death, i managed to convince them to let me & jeremy get matching tattoo’s with jenna and secretly had the tattoo artist add vervain into the ink (shhh, it works in my dr).

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ my adopted aunt & guardian!!

name: jenna sommers

nickname(s): aunt jen, jj

age: 29

date of birth: january 29, 1980

birthplace: mystic falls, virginia

species: human (currently)

height: 5’6”

occupation: college student

sexuality: straight

pronouns: she/her

other info: she doesn’t die, she has a vervain tattoo so she can’t be compelled, shortly after miranda & grayson's death me and jeremy told her about the supernatural world (i had to convince bonnie to show her magic for her to fully believe us though)

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ my younger brother!!

name: jeremy gilbert

nickname(s): jer

age: 14

date of birth: october 13, 1994

birthplace: mystic falls, virginia

species: human (currently)

height: 6’0”

occupation: high school sophomore

sexuality: bisexual

pronouns: he/him

other info: he doesn’t do drugs, he has a vervain tattoo, he doesn’t have any sort of relationship w/ vicki bc he’s a minor & she’s not, we have a very close sibling bond and can talk to each other about anything, knows about the supernatural world because i told him shortly after finding the journals

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ my future husband!!

name: thomas james salvatore

nickname(s): tom, tommy

age: 29/174

date of birth: january 24, 1835

birthplace: mystic falls, virginia

ethnicity: greek, mexican & italian

species: heretic

height: 6’4”

sexuality: pansexual

pronouns: he/him

our trope: slowburn enemies to lovers

other info: older paternal half-brother of damon & stefan, his mother was an extremely powerful witch, best friends with katherine pierce & knows she’s not in the tomb, has a terrible relationship with damon but gets along fairly well with stefan, absolutely despised his father, possessive but not controlling

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ my future husband!!

name: kol mikaelson

nickname(s): koala

age: 19/1027

date of birth: august 4, 982

birthplace: mystic falls, virginia

ethnicity: norse

species: original vampire

height: 6’1”

sexuality: bisexual

pronouns: he/him

our trope: strangers to lovers, fastburn

other info: he'll be very sweet to me and only me, possessive but not controlling

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ my best friend!!

name: caroline elizabeth forbes

nickname(s): care, carrie, carebear, bubbles

age: 16

date of birth: october 10, 1992

birthplace: mystic falls, virginia

species: human (currently)

height: 5’8”

sexuality: bisexual

pronouns: she/her

other info: she has a vervain bracelet that sheila spelled so only caroline can take it off, she won’t ever sleep with damon (he's gross for even thinking of sleeping with a minor), she’s much more confident in herself, she’s been taking aikido & boxing classes with me, knows about the supernatural world

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ my best friend!!

name: bonnie sheila bennett

nickname(s): bon, bonbon, bee, blossom

age: 16

date of birth: february 5, 1993

birthplace: mystic falls, virginia

ethnicity: greek

species: witch

height: 5’2”

sexuality: bisexual

pronouns: she/her

other info: she’s known about & been learning magic from sheila since she was 8 years old, she’s been taking taekwondo & aikido classes with me

[neege]

Lesbian Wolfstar Prom AU!!

Part III

Part I | Part II

Part III!! Finally some substance!!! And an explanation of who the hell Emma Pierce is lol. I just read the lesbian wolfstar au that @werewolfenthusiast just posted and it inspired me to update this since it's been sitting in my drafts hehe. I hope you like it!! Remus is struggling in this one, again...

Oh also I learned how to add a cut!!! Part III below 🥰

Remus had always known to an extent that she wasn't particularly interested in boys, at least not in the way that other girls her age seemed to be. Being homeschooled until she was 14, she didn't really interact with any kids her age, and after spending a year at her new fancy private school, she still didn't have a good understand of what her peers were going on about in regard to the sweaty, annoying boys in their year.

So yeah, she already knew she didn't care to be swept up behind the science building with a strong senior football player so he could shove his tongue down her throat—which honestly... does anyone actually want that??—but it wasn't until a sleepover with Lily Evans, winter break of Sophomore year that things... clicked for Remus. She still remembers the fluttery feeling in her stomach, watching Kate Winslet kiss Leo while Lily braided her hair, and she still isn't sure if it was Kate herself or the feeling of another girl's fingers carding so gently through her curls, but she understood herself a bit better that night.

She never watched Titanic again, and she packed that knowledge away in a private little box shoved to the back of her head, locked and not to be opened until she was maybe 30. Or 40. 

And then she became friends with James and Peter.

And Sirius.

The four of them became fast friends—inseparable at all times—god, she loved them all so much.

But Sirius was different.

It was so hard to understand how Remus felt while being around Sirius. She had always been the most beautiful person in any room, maybe in the world, but although it did not go unnoticed by Remus by any means, there was always something else that just... stood out.

She was so smart and quick and funny in a cool, cutting way that no one else their age was. She was top of the class without trying and she was passionate and she made boys cry. She was captivating. And Remus was drawn to her in a way she's never been before.

And then she showed up to the first day of school with a new hair cut and the entire school whispering behind her back—did you hear? Black's a lesbian now—striding confidently up to their typical lunch spot, and Remus knew: she was in so much trouble. 

From that day forward, all she could think about was Sirius. 

Sirius's laugh.

Sirius's eyes. 

Sirius's long fingers and what they might possibly be able to do... 

It was torture.

But she also couldn't help but feel like maybe there could be something there, Remus and Sirius had always been something else—something different than the soul-bond that James and Sirius had, and something much more than her friendly but strained relationship with Pete, even something unique from the friendships Sirius shared with other girls their year. 

They were different, Remus was so sure.

And just when she was starting to come around to the idea of maybe trying her hand at flirting—for the first time!—James decided it would be a grand idea to discuss Sirius's taste in girls.

It was something that he'd apparently been trying to push with Sirius since she'd come out to them all—he seemed to be under the impression that talking about the girls Sirius might like would make everyone, but especially Sirius, feel more comfortable in their friendships. Remus wasn't sure. She kinda thought that maybe they shouldn't know so much about each other.

Unless it's me she likes. I wouldn't mind knowing that.

It had been a failing endeavor for about 2 months, with Sirius refusing to speak about the subject unless it was to crack a joke about Lily, which James was not very amused by. 

And then one early November school day, it happened. 

"Come on Sirius, we all know you have a type! You're so damn particular about everything else, how could you not!" 

"Shut up, dumbass!" Sirius was leaned back in her plastic school chair, balancing on the back two legs in a way that arched her back and pulled at her shirt to reveal her bellybutton—which Remus was decidedly not looking at.

"Just because you're always drooling after every red head you see doesn't suddenly mean everyone likes the same type of girl. Besides, girls aren't just separated into types like that, they're not movie genres." Remus felt good about this answer. It was smart, like everything else Sirius said. 

"Okay fine! Then just tell me who you like—" 

"Jesus Christ James we've been over this! I don't like anyone, this isn't middle school!"

"Fuck off, I don't believe you at all! You're always so defensive about it whenever I ask, there's gotta be someone here that you like. There's like a million girls at this school—" "Not true." "—there has to be one that you at least think is hot. Just tell me, and I'll drop it." 

Sirius sighed in response and pinched the bridge of her nose with her long fingers, which again, Remus wasn't looking at. She was, however, listening very carefully for Sirius's answer while badly pretending to complete the assignment that had been given to them fifteen minutes ago. She'd answered two out of twenty-five questions so far. 

"If I tell you, you can't make it a whole thing okay?" "I can't promise that at all, but I won't ask again for the rest of the day!"

Sirius squinted at him for a moment before responding, "Deal." 

She sat forward, smacking the chair fully back to all-fours before leaning her elbows on the edge of the desk. She looked around the small classroom, and Remus couldn't help but follow her gaze—what was she looking for? Was there some kind of secret... thing? Some secret power that slowed her gaze long enough to be noticed? Remus wanted it, whatever it was.

Finally, Sirius leaned forward even more, until her voice could be heard quietly as she declared: "Emma Pierce is pretty hot." 

Emma. Emma Pierce. 

Varsity Cheerleader with the long, smooth blonde hair and beautiful curves that Remus has heard Pete grossly wax poetic about on many occasions. 

That Emma Pierce.

James let out a long whistle and clapped Sirius on the back—Remus noticed the pale-pink tint developing on her lovely cheeks and it made her stomach lurch.

"Damn Sirius. I was right, you would go for the hottest girl in school—" "Lily, James?" "—excluding my beautiful Lily of course. Nice! you should make a move, see where it leads!"

Sirius let out a short, loud laugh and shoved James away roughly. "I'm not going for anyone, dipshit. I just think she's pretty, she's got that long hair and... yeah I'm not talking about this anymore, actually!" She stood up as the bell rang and began collecting her things. "Someone wake up Pete, I think he drooled on his assignment." 

Remus sat, stunned, and thought about her own frizzy brown hair. The color of dirt. 

It at least used to be long, down to her waist even, but Remus had decided to chop it all off as a show of solidarity with Sirius this year. Her mom had cried when she cut it. She'd wanted it to look edgy and cool, kind of like the short, mullet-y style hair Sirius sported now, but it looked more like she was the young mom of a two year old with a baby on the way. The frizzy curls now just touched under her jawline, and when Sirius had first seen it, she had ruffled the curls aggressively with a beaming smile. It was amazing.

"Moons, you alright?" Sirius broke her out of her reverie, and was looking at her with wide, concerned steel-grey eyes. 

Her eyelashes are so long. 

"Yeah... m'fine Pads." 

Oh my god, I'm so fucked.

[darkst4lker]

(𖤐) REQUESTS (drabbles, one-shots) / open

— I WRITE: romance, smut, fluff, angst, things that involve vampirism, death, murder or blood and violence, supernatural creatures (fairies, vampires, etc) and you can suggest things that aren't on this list.

— I DON'T WRITE: anything that transgress basic criteria to a legal extent (rape/pedophilia/zoophilia) nor anything eschatologic don't waste your time leaving those requests because i will delete them. i also don't write anything that involves dom!reader regarding smut.

— list of characters and series (you can suggest more):

⌗ LOTR/THE HOBBIT: thranduil, legolas, bilbo, arwen, galadriel, aragorn, boromir.

⌗ HARRY POTTER: harry potter, hermione granger, draco malfoy, sirius black, remus lupin, james potter, lily evans, luna lovegood, regulus black, bellatrix lestrange, narcissa malfoy, lucius malfoy, severus snape, poly!marauders x reader, poly!marauders + lily x reader, drarry x reader, wolfstar x reader, slytherin!harry.

⌗ THE VAMPIRE DIARIES: damon salvatore, elena gilbert, katherine pierce, (im currently watching so when i get to know klaus and elijah better they will be probably added.)

⌗ A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE: daenerys targaryen, daemon targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen, shiera seastar, rhaenys I targaryen, visenya tararyen, aegon targaryen "the conqueror", poly!conquerors, viserys targaryen III, jon snow, robb stark, melisandre, ned stark, cersei lannister, jaime lannister, alicent hightower, gwayne hightower, aemond targaryen.

⌗ THE BOYS: soldier boy, homelander, starlight, queen maeve, billy butcher, firecracker.

⌗ FOUNDATION: cleon, literally any cleon.

⌗ BALDURS GATE 3: astarion ancunin.

⌗ IWTV: lestat de lioncourt (2022 & 1994), louis de point du lac (1994, bc that version is bi), claudia (2022), madeleine éparvier (2022), daniel molloy (2022).

⌗ THE WALKING DEAD: rick grimes, daryl dixon, lowkey shane walsh (and probably negan when i get to s6-s7), maggie rhee, michonne.

⌗ STAR WARS: anakin skywalker, padme amidala, leia organa, luke skywalker, han solo.

⌗ MARVEL: loki laufeyson, tony stark, natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff, dr strange, deadpool, charles xavier, pietro maximoff, valkyrie (brunnhilde), peter parker (andrew garfield).

⌗ CASTLEVANIA: alucard, trevor belmont, sypha belnades, vlad dracula tepes, carmilla.

⌗ JJBA: jotaro kujo, kakyoin noriaki, dio brando, kishibe rohan, josuke higashikata, joseph joestar, caesar zeppeli, jonathan joestar, bruno bucciarati, jolyne kujo.

⌗ KUROSHITSUJI: sebastian michaelis, claude faustus, soma asman kadar, grell sutcliff, mey-rin, undertaker, beast, joker.

⌗ DEATH NOTE: light yagami, l lawliet, misa amane.

[fassbendersflwer]

X Men characters I write for -

Erik Lehnsherr

Charles Xavier

Peter Maximoff

Remy LeBeau

Scott Summers

Alex Summers

Kurt Wagner

Jean Grey

James “Logan” Howlett

Wade Wilson

Henry “Hank” McCoy

Ororo Munroe

Anna Marie D’Ancanto

Roberto Da Costa

Robert “Bobby” Drake

Katherine Pryde

Warren Worthington III

Raven Darkholme

John Allerdyce

Azazel

Clarice Ferguson

James Proudstar

Kevin Sydney

Axel Cluney - Zeitgeist

Gaveedra Seven - Shatterstar

Chris Bradley

Donald Pierce

Apocalypse 🧍🏻‍♀️

Margaret/Vuk 📸

[blueiscoool]

The Smithsonian Acquires the Earliest Known Photograph of an American First Lady

The National Portrait Gallery purchased an 1846 daguerreotype of Dolley Madison for $456,000.

Three years before her death in 1849 at age 81, Dolley Madison posed for photographer John Plumbe Jr. at his studio in Washington, D.C. Clad in a crocheted shawl and one of her famous turbans, carefully arranged to cover most of her dark curls, the former first lady met the camera’s gaze with a piercing yet inviting stare.

“She’s got this little hint of a smile,” Emily Bierman, global head of Sotheby’s photography department, tells the New York Times’ Jennifer Schuessler. “You can tell she was a commanding and venerable woman.”

A surviving daguerreotype from this 1846 sitting recently resurfaced after decades in obscurity. Now identified as the earliest known photograph of an American first lady, the portrait went up for auction last week at Sotheby’s, where it fetched more than six times its estimated value of $50,000 to $70,000. The Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery paid $456,000 for the daguerreotype, which will reside in the museum’s permanent collection alongside the earliest known photograph of a United States president: an 1843 portrait of John Quincy Adams, acquired at auction for $360,500 in 2017.

Dolley served as first lady from 1809 to 1817. The wife of the U.S.’s fourth president, James Madison, she is regularly lauded for her expert hospitality and bravery during the War of 1812. When the British burned the White House in 1814, Dolley saved a portrait of George Washington from falling into enemy hands, telling servants to break the frame and extract its contents to avoid letting the president’s likeness “be mocked and desecrated,” wrote Smithsonian magazine’s Thomas Fleming in 2010.

As the National Women’s History Museum notes online, Dolley “pretty much created” the role of first lady, “setting the bar upon which all [of her successors] have been judged.” She hosted politicians from across the political spectrum at the White House, encouraging the nation’s leaders to put their differences aside in social settings, and she established the first lady’s unofficial duty as hostess. When Dolley died in 1849, President Zachary Taylor eulogized her as “the first lady of the land for half a century.”

Reflecting on the portrait’s acquisition in a statement, Smithsonian Secretary Lonnie G. Bunch III says, “This artifact will provide the Smithsonian another opportunity to tell a more robust American story and illuminate the vital role women like [Dolley] have played in the nation’s progress.”

According to the Times, the daguerreotype’s anonymous sellers discovered it while cleaning out the basement of a family member who had died. Recognizing the first lady’s face, they sent a scan of the photograph to Sotheby’s, attracting Bierman’s attention despite what she describes as the “fairly terrible” quality of the JPEG file.

The newly auctioned portrait isn’t the only surviving photograph of Dolley. Mathew Brady, the photographer who immortalized such 19th-century Americans as Abraham Lincoln and Ulysses S. Grant, captured Dolley’s likeness in 1848. More than a century later, two daguerreotypes from the sitting surfaced in a leather trunk once owned by Dolley’s niece, Anna Payne Causten. One of the portraits—both of which are now housed at the Greensboro History Museum in North Carolina—depicts Dolley seated next to a standing Causten, while the other shows the first lady sitting alone in a pose reminiscent of the Sotheby’s daguerreotype.

An 1848 daguerreotype of Dolley and her niece, Anna Payne Causten, by Mathew Brady.

A separate daguerreotype held by the Maine Historical Society was previously attributed to Brady but is now believed to date to the same sitting as the Sotheby’s one. The image offers a nearly identical view of Dolley, this time with her hands visible and expression slightly different. As Sotheby’s notes in the lot listing for the newly auctioned portrait, “new research and close examination” suggest Plumbe was the creator of both daguerreotypes.

Several clues link the Sotheby’s portrait to Plumbe, a Welsh-born immigrant who emerged as one of the U.S.’s most prominent 19th-century photographers. Visitor logs kept by Dolley indicate she met with Plumbe on February 22, 1846, and contemporary newspaper reports mention a portrait of the first lady featured in the photographer’s exhibitions that May. Most importantly, the back of the portrait’s case bears a printed message stating, “Manufactured at the Plumbe National Daguerrian Depot, New-York.”

According to the Times’ Annie Aguiar, the 1846 daguerreotype will go on view at the National Portrait Gallery in a 2026 exhibition marking both the 50th anniversary of the museum’s photography collection and the 250th anniversary of the nation’s founding.

By Meilan Solly.

[sodascherrycola]

Full Name: Amanda Marie Wentz (nee Lynch) DOB: July 21st 1983 Age: 41 years old Instagram: @amandawentz

Parents: Scott and Dana Lynch Siblings: Kristen S/O: Peter Wentz III Married: August 14th 2011 (28 yrs old) Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts Nicknames: Mandy, Manda, Marnie Best Friend(s): Anna Stumph, Lauryn Campbell, and Nicole Fisher Job: Song-Writer Personality Traits: Spontaneous, Caring, Independent, and Bold

Children: Greyson Peter Lewis Wentz (20, 2003) Mia Violet Blake Wentz (23, 2006) David Alexander Cole Wentz (27, 2010) Bruin Chester Bear Wentz (30, 2013) Romeo Edward Brookes & Evie Amara Inez Wentz (37, 2020) Phillip Truman James Wentz (40, 2023)

Appearance: - Brown Hair - Brown Eyes - Tan Skin and Freckles - Small Tattoos and Eyebrow Piercing She Got at 17

[antaxzantax]

Umbrella Pharmaceuticals - Chapter 51

Summary: Alex Paterson [Alex Wesker] murders James Marcus and associates with Oswell E. Spencer, her biological father.

I

The bullet pierced the skull and embedded itself in the frontal lobe. The barrel of the revolver burned.

The body crashed limp to the ground.

She grabbed a saw from the toolbox and cut off the head. She put the trophy in a vacuum bag.

She dialed an international number on the hacked phone.

“Who's calling?”

“Get me Mr. Spencer. It's urgent.”

“Lord Spencer won't see anyone without an appointment and without first meeting the caller.”

“Tell him I have the virus and James Marcus's head.”

II

She rode in the 4x4 with the virus and the head of James Marcus. A group of individuals in protective suits entered the basement of the ranch. A man with a thick British accent assured her that they would get rid of the body and the lab. The SUV started up. She would travel by private plane to Luxembourg.

III

Spencer examined the severed head of James Marcus with a clinical eye. A clean shot to the forehead had killed him. A single shot had extinguished the sullen Texan.

A single shot.

Spencer went to light a cigar but gave it up for the shocking sight of the head. The damned head with the glassy eyes and the jagged features, eaten away at the edges and yellowed with decay. He'd loathed Marcus in recent years, but cold-blooded murder and mutilation like that... On a par with what he'd done to Trevor.

He asked Patrick to turn his head away, for the putrid smell had congested his nostrils. He blew his nose into his handkerchief. The disturbing thing, however, had not been Marcus's death, but who had killed him: a twenty-eight-year-old woman who claimed to be the biological daughter of Oswell Ernest Spencer.

Alexandra Paterson.

“Hide the sample. It will be our secret,” he ordered Patrick.

IV

The woman who claimed to be his biological daughter had inherited his blond hair, blue eyes and features. He recognised the mother at the mention of her name. The daughter of a millionaire rancher whom he had met at a party in California. The same mother who years before had sent him a letter to charge him for the care of a supposed daughter of his. And there it was: his worst nightmare.

Alex didn't drink tea and her American accent bounced off his ear canal as if he were at a rodeo. American on top. Stereotypically American. Spencer sipped from his teacup.

“And you're from California?”

“Arkansas.”

“Oh, cows and cowgirls.”

Spencer set the cup down carefully and smiled condescendingly at his appearing daughter.

“I worked with Brandon Bailey in Africa. I befriended him so he'd trust me. I gave him the ranch and the lab when Marcus wanted to escape,” Alex said.

“Why did you kill Marcus?”

Alex looked down.

“He attacked me. He suspected me. He pointed the gun at me and wanted to kill me so I wouldn't steal his research. He thought you'd sent me; that I was a spy. He went mad. He hated you.”

“Why did he hate me?”

“Because all you care about is money and politics.”

Spencer laughed.

“He was a good friend... Brilliant at science, but stupid at social relations. Anyway, and you brought me his head as proof of loyalty?”

Alex shrugged.

“I doubted you'd listen to me if I rang the doorbell.”

“And what do you want from me?” Spencer prepared himself a cigar. “Money? Connections? A house on the prairie? A new cowboy hat?”

“I want to be your daughter.”

Spencer smiled.

“Sure, with that accent and manners. My family will welcome you with open arms.”

“I want to work at Umbrella. I want to research that virus.”

“What?”

“I'm a virologist, and you're half physicist, half economist. Who have you hired to translate the reports for you?”

Spencer got serious.

“And you've come to save me, Alexandra. That's very kind of you. But I don't require anyone's services. No one. Let out of my house.”

“Marcus' virus is a variant T-virus untested in humans, only in insects and arthropods. It's capable of inducing exaggerated mutations in a very short time and replicating certain genetic structures.”

“Replicating?”

“Mimic the genetic structure of the host, like cloning. I started working with Marcus in 1983. I know how that virus works, and I know a few things about you and Umbrella. You're just gonna let me walk away?”

Tough as nails and twisted, just like her father.

“Let's make a deal. Suppose I hire you, you work for Umbrella, and I assign you to a lab. Suppose I let you research that virus and many others. Would I end up with a bullet in my head, or would you worship your father?”

“I can't inherit your fortune and your family will hate me, so why would I shoot my only safe conduct?”

Spencer finished his cigar.

“I'll give you one chance.”

One chance.

[dhr-ao3]

April 2024 - Accepting Prompts

April 2024 - Accepting Prompts https://ift.tt/Wc2ZuAq by The Unknown and Unaware (TheUnknownandUnaware) Accepting prompts! Currently open! Feel free to comment on this or send me a message on Tumblr (https://ift.tt/zOqjW02). Please share with any fic reader friends you have! Words: 366, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars, Sleeping With Sirens, Pierce the Veil, All Time Low, Stray Kids (Band), Dear Evan Hansen, Be More Chill, Wicked, Miraculous Ladybug, Supernatural, Disney - Fandom, Dreamworks - Fandom, percy jackson - Fandom Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Vic Fuentes/Kellin Quinn, Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix, Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, Alana Beck/Zoe Murphy, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell, Elphaba Thropp/Galinda Upland, Elphaba Thropp/Fiyero Tigelaar, Elphaba Thropp/Fiyero Tigelaar/Galinda Upland, Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)/Rapunzel (Disney), Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Merida (Disney), Freddie Benson/Carly Shay, Nico di Angelo/Percy Jackson Additional Tags: Mafia AU, Hurt/Comfort, meet cute, Song fic, reunion au, pinning, Omegaverse, ABO, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Harry Potter AU, Band Fic via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/zmM2QRU April 23, 2024 at 12:03AM

[up-risingrp]

Canons

These are our major canons on the site with activity monitored more closely as they're either part of our site subplots or will be in the future

Avengers

Tony Stark - taken by Kathleen

Steve Rogers (on MAC)

Sam Wilson

Bruce Banner

Natasha Romanoff (on MASH)

Clint Barton

Thor

Scott Lang

Hope van Dyne

Wanda Maximoff - adoptable NPC

Vision

Media

Christine Everhart

JJJ

Trish Walker

Mitchell Ellison

X-Men

(minor canons will be approved on a case by case basis as there are many X-men whose powers will not fit the site)

Charles Xavier - adoptable NPC (on MAC)

Jean Grey - played by rue

Scott Summers - played by kathleen

Hank McCoy (on MAC)

Bobby Drake

James Howlett - played by kathleen

Brotherhood

(same with the X-men, minor canons will be approved on a case by case basis)

Erik Lehnsherr - adoptable NPC (part of MASH)

Raven Darkholme

Lorna Dane 

Amara Aquilla (part of MASH)

Hellfire

Warren Worthington III (part of MASH)

Sebastian Shaw - admin NPC (part of MASH)

Emma Frost - adoptable NPC (part of MAC)

Regan Wyngarde

Roberto da Costa

Government

Maria Hill

Nick Fury - admin NPC

Phil Coulson

Bobbi Morse

Daisy Johnson

Melinda May

Al Mackenzie

Everett Ross

Valentina de Fontaine

Sharon Carter

Stark Industries

Pepper Potts - played by rue

Happy Hogan

Leopold Fitz - played by kathleen

Jemma Simmons - played by rue

Street Teams

Peter Parker

MJ Watson - played by rue

Matt Murdock - played by rue

Frank Castle - played by kathleen

Danny Rand

Jessica Jones

Luke Cage

Young Avengers

(not yet a team but can be on the site)

Kamala Khan

Kate Bishop

Cassie Lang

Eli Bradley

America Chavez - admin NPC

David Alleyne

Fantastic Four

Reed Richards - played by rue

Sue Storm 

Johnny Storm

Ben Grimm - played by kathleen

Victor von Doom - adoptable NPC

AIM/Villains

Aldrich Killian

Justin Hammer

Helmut Zemo

John Walker

Bucky Barnes - admin NPC

Alexander Pierce

Ophelia Sarkissian - adoptable NPC

Wilson Fisk

Billy Russo

Maya Lopez

[moths-in-the-coat]

OC PROFILE #5: TEAM FORTRESS 2

"Tell it to the Marines!"

i.– basic info

✯ name: Maria Snow ✯ alias: The Sailor ✯ nicknames: Marie, Siren, Girlie, Featherweight ✯ age: 36 ✯ birthday: January 6, 1936 ✯ star sign: Capricorn ✯ birthplace: Saltburn-by-the-Sea, England ✯ hometown: Teufort, New Mexico ✯ ethnicity: white ✯ nationality: British ✯ languages spoken: English, Italian (a little bit) ✯ gender: cis female (she/her) ✯ sexuality: bisexual (no preference)

ii.– appearance

✯ description: Maria is an average height woman with blue eyes and an athletic build. She has blonde hair down to her upper back which is usually tied back in a practical ponytail. She has tattoos all over her body, which vary from "HOLD FAST" on her knuckles to a nautical star on her wrist. ✯ height: 5'4 (162 cm) ✯ weight: 135 lbs (61 kg.) ✯ other distinguishing features: pierced ears, good posture, slim fingers

iii.– personality

✯ positive traits: compassionate, agreeable, placid, polite, cooperative ✯ neutral traits: proper, superstitious, introverted, sentimental, easily flustered ✯ negative traits: neurotic, compulsive, wistful, secretive, uptight ✯ likes: the ocean, the rain, cats, most of her teammates, tea ✯ dislikes: catfish, perverts, the heat, being sick, spicy food ✯ fears: internal organs, thunderstorms, explosions, losing her loved ones ✯ hobbies: fishing, sailing, calligraphy, reading, taking care of her cat ✯ talents: singing, calligraphy, good with sharp objects, pretty fast

iv.– abilities

✯ class: support ✯ default primary weapon: spear gun ✯ default secondary weapon: power washer ✯ default melee weapon: trident

v.– relationships

✯ mother (Elizabeth Hathaway Snow): Maria and her mother are very close, with Elizabeth being her main caretaker, as her father had enlisted in WWII when she was 3 and returned when she was 9. Even as an adult, Maria and Elizabeth are still very close, with them exchanging letters regularly about how they are doing. ✯ father (Roger Snow): For the majority of Maria's childhood, Roger was absent, as he had been enlisted into WWII as a member of the Royal Navy. Still, after he returned, he made a genuine effort to make up for lost time with both of his children. This effort was not in vain, as both Maria and James still loved Roger and saw him as a hero, even after being gone for 6 years. ✯ brother (James Snow): James, being 4 years older than Maria, always saw her as childish and somewhat immature. Besides that, the two are somewhat close, even if they're consistently miles away from each other. Maria is also close with James' wife Kathleen and their two kids. ✯ friends: just about everyone on her team, Ms. Pauling ✯ enemies: the opposite team, Merasmus, Grey Mann, just about everyone from TFC ✯ love interest: none, single (currently), Soldier (formerly), Nora Royston (formerly, another oc)

vi.– backstory

Maria Snow was born the youngest of two children in Saltburn-by-the-Sea in England. From a young age, she loved the ocean and everything to do with water. At the age of 3, her father was drafted in WWII and was absent from her life for the next 6 years. During that period, her mother made sure that both of her kids were well-rounded individuals, teaching Maria how to fence and signing her up for the local church choir. These experiences shaped Maria into a strong, outgoing girl. Perhaps too strong, since one of her mom's friends convinced her to sign her up for finishing school. As a result, she was sent to the Cygnet Hall Finishing School for several months when she was 7. She hated it there, but it shaped a lot of her mannerisms as an adult. When she was 9, her father came back from the war. For as long as possible afterwards, he made up for lost time, resparking Maria's love of the sea. She would go fishing with her dad very often on the family boat, the MS Hammerhead. A few years later, her brother James enlisted in the Royal Marines, leaving Maria as the only kid in the house. When she turned 18, she joined the Women's Royal Navy Service and was assigned to the HMS Amphitrite. There, she met fellow ensign Nora Royston and the two fell in love. They kept a secret relationship for almost 5 years, until tragedy struck. In 1959, the Amphitrite hit an unexpected storm in the North Sea, which none of the sailors on board were prepared for. The ship went down, claiming 5 lives, including that of Nora. Maria was honorably discharged after that, staying at home with her parents and helping out with the family fishing business. In 1962, a visitor showed up at the family home asking for James Snow, who at the time, was in Ireland with his wife and children. She wanted to hire him for a job overseas, but after hearing of Maria's qualifications, hired her in his stead.

…and then the fic starts.

vii.– other

✯ fashion style: vintage, nautical ✯ face claim: Carolyn Jones ✯ voice claim: Laura Bailey ✯ theme song: Summer In Japan- Yoann Garel ✯ assorted fun facts: She has a pet cat named Lucy who lives on-base. When she teleports, there's a chance that a scone will spawn. She unironically finds stupid dad jokes funny. She wakes up at 4 in the morning in order to shower uninterrupted. She can sprint in pumps. She's very good at calligraphy and cryptography.

[bendingwind]

That ask left me wondering: exactly how much babyfic have I written? (I will not be linking to anything on my ancient fanfiction.net account because rediscovering it for Research Purposes was mortifying enough, thanks 😳)

Harry/Ginny, written before it became canon and also before JKR outed herself as a TERF

A Lily/James fic that seems to have been removed from ffnet, but that I vividly recall writing because it was angsty as shit

Aly/Nawat (Tamora Pierce/Tortall), written before Tammy said anything about their kids

Shikamaru/Temari (Naruto) story written not too long after the timeskip I think? Well before they became canon.

Baby's First Word (Supernatural)

Like Stars In my Sky (Doctor Who)

Secrets (Doctor Who)

Fairytales (Doctor Who)

Pearls (Doctor Who)

when at last i see thee whole (Doctor Who)

A Family Moment. I. (Doctor Who)

A Family Moment. II. (Doctor Who)

A Family Moment. III. (Doctor Who)

A Lullaby for Blue (Doctor Who)

In Which Spoilers Are Poorly Kept (Doctor Who)

Of Hope In What Will Come (Doctor Who)

The Orphan Boy (MCU)

Colors (MCU)

Naps (MCU)

half a dozen, at least (Dragon Age)

sing me a lullaby (Dragon Age)

the wishing well (Witcher)

glow (Bleach - yeah that's right I showed up 6 weeks ago and I'm already tossing out babyfic. it is, in fact, the very first thing i posted)

I left out:

7 stories that were more kidfic than babyfic

Several stories that contain pregnancy and babies but are not primarily about those things

Several stories that I wrote but did not post, including but not limited to: a Very Questionable everyone/everyone second gen Naruto fic (written in approximately 2009) that I lost my absolute shit over when I rediscovered it; a very long Handmaid's Tale (novel) story covering moments in the lives of 100 women set in that universe that, while not all babyfic, due to the nature of the universe do heavily revolve around reproduction; and an Our Flag Means Death a/b/o AU that is just titled "[my name], no".

But there you have it. I have written more babyfic than your average AO3 author has total stories 😳😳😳😳😳😳