#nerve of some people. not even sneaky about it

[sleepinglionhearts]

@ the guy who tried to pick pocket me at the grocery store after work: try to be less obvious when following someone you fucking doofus of course I noticed your dumb ass

[globalrebrand]

Jealousy

Warnings: Petty behavior, light not sfw themes, but soooo minimal.

Leona Kingscholar

When he's jealous

Tries to play it off.

You really think he gives a shit who you talk to? He has better things to do than to worry about where you are and who you're hanging out with.

If that sounded like bullshit to you, that's because it is.

Involuntary grunts whenever you bring up someone who he's feels threatens your relationship in anyway.

Leona: Where were you this afternoon?

You: Oh, I wanted to shopping so Vil and I-

Leona: *low growl*

You: Excuse me?

Leona: Tch- Whatever.

Starts tagging along to thing he really doesn't want to go to or do because he wants to be close keep an eye on you. So next time you go shopping with Vil, Leona's sitting out front with the bags. And you know what, take his card and pay for all your own things, don't let Vil treat you.

Doesn't communicate what makes him unhappy, expects you to read his mind and ultimately stop hanging out with people that aren't him, or at least people he approves of. Leona doesn't like Malleus or Vil because he finds them threatening to your relationship.

Leona's appeased easily enough though. Just make it obvious that he's your number one and he'll settle down and stop being so grumpy. Tell him that there's no way you would even consider anyone else. Tell him you think he's perfect the way he is and Leona just might start purring.

When you're jealous

Oh sweet precious herbivore. You have nothing to worry about. Probably. But he’s entirely tooo flattered.

Thankfully Leona's too lazy to cheat so you really have nothing worry about. It’s already a lot of work keeping you happy, so Leona isn’t about to try twice as hard to keep a side piece.

Doesn’t even remotely entertain the attention of others. Like it’s actually so hard to turn his head. He just wants to sleep, preferably next to his herbivore, please and thank you.

He does however think your jealousy is hot.

“Hey herbivore, why don’t you show ‘em who I belong to.”

Wants you to mark your territory. Take him a little rough, leave hickeys, scratch his back. He’ll remark that it’s troublesome but won’t make any effort to cover anything up. Wears them as badges of honor.

So no he wasn't texting anyone else, or making plans with another person, or being particularly sneaky. He just wants to play chess on his phone and cuddle with you.

Cater Diamond

When he's jealous

The WORST. Turns into the world’s pettiest bitch. It’s like you’ve already dumped him.

Pouts. Sulks. Whines.

Get's a little childish. "Wouldn't you rather go hangout with your future boyfriend. 😒"

When you tell him he's being ridiculous he gets upset and defensive.

Give's cling wrap a run for its money. Starts hanging on your in public, especially around the person in question.

He was already shameless about PDA in public but when his hand starts creeping down towards your ass, while you make out on a park bench you have to give him a proper scolding. And know Cater, he's timed it perfectly so that the interloper in your relationship is passing by for class just at the right time to catch your heady make out session.

Other people likely intervene before Cater has a mature discussion with you about his jealousy because he's likely become a bit insufferable complaining about you and or this other person/people taking up your time and or attention to his friends.

Trey probably approaches you like, "uh, can you please tell Cater you're not gonna leave him for whoever?" Because he's getting on everyone's nerves with the complaining and comparing of social media profiles. Trey will make you a cake, whatever you want, just shut him up.

When you're jealous

Hot. Like soooo hot.

Makes you jealous on purpose because he finds the way you get a little possessive hot.

If you don't get jealous, its much the same as part one. He gets pouty and whiny, about how you don't really love him if you're just letting him get brazenly felt up by some random person. (He's never actually been groped but you know your man is prone to hyperbole)

When you're jealous he wants you to take control, but him in his place, gently, but passionately please.

"Sorry my partner says no," Loudly turns the other person down. Proclaims he's a taken man and that you wouldn't approve of him hanging out with them.

"But even if I wasn't taken, the answer would still be no." He's rude. And you should scold him for it.

But also praise him because look at what a good boyfriend he is, turning down his other suitors for you.

Cater thinks he's due for a little reward, don't you think?

Vil Schoenheit

When he's jealous

Watch the fuck out. Tartarus hath no fury like a Vil scorned.

He gets better about it with time, but not really. If you make Vil jealous he's going to directly confront the perceived threat to your relationship to assess the danger level.

"Hello my love, who's this?" He fights the urge to call the offender a "potato."

Gets moody with you. How could you even entertain the thought of another with the most beautiful man in the world warming your bed.

Now Vil won't get jealous of every other attractive person you come across (unless he knows for a fact this person has eyes for you.) He's not nearly that insecure but when random people start cutting into your time with him that's what he'll really make a stink about.

He's already so busy and his time is so limited, so when you go off with anyone when he has free time to be with you, he gets pissed.

Vil swears he not trying to monopolize your time but can't you see them when he's busy? He carved out this time especially for you, he believes he's owed your attention.

This is where he'll get especially petty. Oh you were going out with friends this afternoon, well he just happened to have booked a surprise spa day for you both, but he supposes he can cancel. He doesn't know when he'll get another day off but if you'd really rather go with your friends. Do not under any circumstance go with your friend if you want to keep your boyfriend

And while he's petty Vil will be very vocal about his disapproval, he won't leave you to read his mind. However, if after multiple conversations about not spending time with him on his limited days off, your relationship will be in jeopardy.

Don't make him repeat himself.

When you're jealous

Oh you sweet little darling. You're jealous of all of this attention from adoring fans who would happily destroy the life you've built together just for the chance to sniff his socks? Don't be silly. Vil would never entertain the thought of another when he has you. He's far too loyal and principled, he'll tell you if there's a problem in your relationship long before he would ever be compelled to cheat.

But also, while he'll say these sweet placating words "you're the only one for me," "how could I even look at another when I have you etc."

However don't you dare stop getting jealous. You'll have to pace it out. Too jealous and Vil will get annoyed and likely want to leave the relationship, but also know Vil is entirely that bitch who gets turned on by your jealousy.

He's a little toxic in his belief that your jealousy means you love him, that the passion in your relationship is still alive and burning hot. So if you're not acting jealously in circumstances where it absolutely makes sense for you to feel jealous he gets concerned. What do you mean you trust him to respect the fidelity of your relationship? Are you cheating? When did you stop caring about him?

"I don't like the way they look at you. Don't they understand that you're mine..."

Wrap your arms around him, nuzzle into his chest and say those words to Vil and he'll promptly need to adjust his slacks. Please show him how he's yours. He's not very fond of being submissive but if you're passionately displaying your affection while pleading for his attention he'll avoid exerting control...too much. Cover him in kisses, don't mark him-, but feel free to get a little handsy. He'll allow it just this once.

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

ooh! what about vox hypnotising the reader to sign a soul contract with him? 👀

love your work :D

This is gonna be angsty, but not in the way you'd normally expect >:3

More Than Anything [Vox x Reader]

"Ẇ̸̛̞̑h̸͈̰͕͊͝y̴̪͍̠̽ won't you let me do this for you?!"

Vox glitched out as you turned away from him. The two of you had been arguing for at least an hour and his nerves had frayed thin a good while ago.

The two of you had only been dating for a couple of months when some sneaky jackass paparazzi demon snagged a picture of you two h*lding hands while on a date. The image had spread like wildfire and everyone was curious to dig up as much information on you as possible. Rumors about the legitimacy of the photo, Valentino and Vox's neverending situationship, arguments about your character, you name it. It was all anyone could talk about.

At first, you both legitimately believed things would smooth over and the public would move on to the next celebrity scandal within a short amount of time. Reality only partially heeded your predictions.

The occasional talk show would hang on to the topic and some people had ship wars about it on sinblr, but for the most part, hell had moved on. Vox's enemies, however, had not.

It was a day just like any other when it happened. You had been on your way back to your apartment after visiting Vox at his office. He'd been having a rough day and you brought him food for an impromptu lunch date to lift his spirits. You had just turned the corner to the street you lived on, the looming tower of the Vee's still watching over you from afar. Hands grabbed you from an alleyway and you didn't even have a chance to gasp, let alone scream as you struggled against the sickly-sweet-smelling cloth pressed against your face.

You kicked and screamed, but felt your body growing heavy fast. You knew how to protect yourself to an extent, but you weren't a powerful sinner, nor trained for something like this. Your vision blurred and the last thing you saw were bright cyan flashes and blood splattered across the brick walls as you slipped into darkness.

When you woke up wearing your favorite oversized hoodie in the large bed of your boyfriend. You were confused as fuck until the memory slammed back into you. You call out for Vox and hear something crash nearby and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps before he yanks open the doors to his room with a frazzled look.

At first, he'd been all over you. He'd been the one to clean the blood off of your unconscious body after he slaughtered the group of thugs in a white-hot rage. You hadn't known it, but Vox had been secretly watching you on his monitors to make sure you got home safely. He'd started doing it long before the two of you had started dating and the potential of what could have happened if he hadn't been stalking you out of the goodness of his heart chilled him to his core.

"I could've lost you," he grits out as his shaking claws dig into the sheets beneath him. You cupped his face and tried to reassure him, but he only dug his claws in deeper, shredding the fabric with fear and stress. He lets out a shaky sigh before his hand lifts to cup your own. His expression shifts as he looks up at you. "But never again."

"What do you mean?" you ask him softly as you search his eyes for the meaning behind the look he gave you.

He takes both your hands in his own, placing them on your lap. "Make a deal with me. Sign a contract. If I have control over your soul, then I'll always know where you are," he said seriously. "I'll be able to keep you safe."

You shake your head, leaning up to kiss his screen. "No, baby we've talked about this before. I know I'm not the strongest sinner, but I don't want anyone to own my soul but me. I'll get stronger and one day you won't need to worry anymore. Just give me time."

"We don't have time," Vox snapped. The vision of you passed out in the alleyway, covered in the thug's blood was ingrained in the back of his mind. It was at this moment he cursed his active imagination. All he could think of was the horrible scenarios you could be in if he didn't take action.

At first, the two of you were able to talk sweetly enough while you tried to change the other's mind. But as you kept going in circles, you both got more frustrated and it eventually blew up into the fight you were having now.

"Just ļ̷̲͊ę̸̇ț̷̭̅ ̸̖̝̠̔̋͆m̵̧̈́͋é̷̈́͜͠ͅ do this for you!" Vox screamed as he yanked you to turn and face him. His expression was distraught, his face short-circuiting from the anger and fear.

His expression crumbled as he let his head drop. "Please..."

Vox's claws twitch against your shoulders, "I'm sorry..." He mutters softly under his breath.

You look down at him and open your mouth to say something, only to gasp as red and blue fill your vision. Vox shakes as he watches your face relax, your mouth hanging open, and the reflection of his pained expression and black hypnotic spirals in your half-lidded eyes.

"But I can't lose you," he said as he trembled. "You're the only good thing I've had in hell and I can't replace you."

The room sparked with electricity and the entire tower powered down as he made you sign the deal. Your soul for his endless devotion and protection. Even if one day you discovered what he did. Even if you hated him for it. He'd be yours until the end of time.

You blink slowly, shaking your head and feeling a little fuzzy as you look down at Vox. His head was still lowered and you remembered he had just apologized to you and said he'd believe in you to get stronger. You smile softly at him and lift under the edge of his screen to make him look at you.

"Thank you for understanding," you say as you gently kiss him. "I promise, you'll have nothing to worry about. I'll get stronger and we'll be okay."

Vox sighed, looking at you with a tired, loving smile as he kissed you back. "Yeah... Everything will be just fine."

[captainlunaxmen]

Dragon's Healer

Chapter 3

Daemyra x female!reader

Dark!Aemond x fem!reader

This chapter is shorter, mostly in preparation for the next one... which is going to be hard...

Chapter summary: Viserys' death creates more plots than expected

Chapter wantings: none in particular, maybe being locked, threat of forced marriage.

Tag list

@k1ttybean

@tojisrealwifey

@sinarainbows

I walk quickly to my chambers, I can't help the feeling of being watched, the way Aemond talked to me was anything but sweet. Almost terrifying.

I close the door as quietly as possible, hoping to finally get some proper rest, I couldn't even leave with Rhaenyra and Daemon, I did promise Alicent to stay with her.

"Why being so sneaky, my love?" Daemon's voice startles me.

"Shit!" I exclaim and put my hand to my chest to calm my heartbeat.

"Hey..." he says softly, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I say immediately, "nothing, where's Rhaenyra?"

"She fell asleep... a lot happened today." He walks closer, "love, is something wrong?"

"No, of course not." I chuckle.

"What did he say to you?" He asks, turning serious.

"Nothing, my love." I say, not meeting his eyes, focusing more on my dress, eager to just take it off and get some sleep.

I can sense him considering me for a moment before he stops my movement, gently making me turn to look at him.

"You're not staying here." He firmly tells me, I let out a deep sigh, turning away from him again.

"I promised Alicent." I say, sitting to take off my shoes.

"Like I give a fuck about that bitch." He scoffs, "you're not staying here."

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much." I snap back, catching myself remembering Rhaenyra's sleeping not far from where we are, I lower my voice, "I can handle whatever crush he might think he has."

"Oh... so I was right, wasn't I?" He smirks, but the clench in his jaw tells me his demeanor is far from playful.

"Yes, fine... you were right." I wave him off, "but it's simply a crush, Daemon, I can handle it."

"Well, I'm not comfortable with you staying here on your own." He says firmly.

"Gods, Daemon!" I whisper yell at him, standing to face him properly, "I'm not a child anymore."

"Exactly." He says, softly. "You're a woman. You're my woman, and it's my duty to protect you."

"I don't need protection here, Daemon." I take his hands, "you taught me how to defend myself, do you not trust your own teaching?" I tease him, to ease his nerves.

"Oh, I trust them very much, I simply don't trust the snakes inhabiting this castle." He makes me hug him, so our faces are closer.

"I know, my love, but I gave my word." I say firmly, "I'm staying. Stop worrying."

He sighs, he kisses me then looks mw dead in the eyes.

"If I hear... that something happened... I will burn each one on them. You hear me?" He tells me.

"I do." I give his lips a peck, "I know you will."

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

I managed to sneak into my chambers before someone could notice me spending the night with the Princess and her husband. We said our goodbyes before they left too.

I also managed to get some more sleep before a bad feeling woke me up suddenly.

I decide to just sit by the window and take some time to think. I feel like something wrong, but I can't seem to put a finger on it.

It could be the conversation with Aemond yesterday, but it doesn't seem to be all.

There's some tension in the air too, I look out the window, down to the stairs, there's no one. It's empty.

My eyes catch movement, I quickly look up noticing I can see Rhaenys' chamber from mine. She too is looking out and she too looks tense.

We lock eyes. There's some warning in hers, she even motions me to look down, to pay attention. Like on cue, people start to walk down those stairs, taken somewhere by the guards.

I look up at Rhaenys again.

"Check your doors." She tells me, a sense of dread invades my body as I immediately rush to the doors. I try to open them.

Locked.

I rush back to the window.

"Locked." I tell her, "what's going on?"

"I have my theories... and I think you'll agree." She says, with heavy tone.

I nod and look down one last time, and when I notice Rhaenys is not there anymore I go back to the doors, giving it another shot at opening them.

I push and pull with all my strength, but unfortunately it definitely, definitely locked.

"Fuck." I curse. I go to my own luggage and look through my things. I must have something to help me open the doors.

Something must've happened to the king. It's the only explanation I can think of. But those people being moved somewhere... something worse is happening.

I stop my movements as I hear the doors opening. Finally.

I turn around, my eyes landing on Alicent, and her look is enough to explain everything to me.

"Lady Y/n." She says, I can hear the grief in her voice.

"Your highness..." I nod, "don't tell me."

"I'm afraid I can't accommodate you." She says, she tries to keep a strong appearance as she gets closer, taking my hands, "lady Y/n, I have a favour to ask."

I see her desperation, I squeeze her hands to reassure her.

"Anything." I say softly.

"I... I'm..." she stutters, "I'm here to ask your support."

"My... support?" I ask, the dreadful sensation is back, so I retreat my hands.

"Your support for Aegon's claim to the throne." She finally says.

"Aegon..? What... what are you talking about?" I say putting distance between us.

"Y/n, please..."

"No." I shake my head, "what..?"

"It was Viserys' wish." Alicent states.

I look at her, shocked, I don't believe her words. It can't be.

"I don't believe you." I say.

"It's true." She insists, walking to me, forcefully grabbing my hands, "please, you have-"

"I don't have to do anything." I grit out, "you want to usurp Rhaenyra's birthright. Are you listening to yourself? That's your father's idea, isn't it?"

"Y/n, in memory of our past friendship, I'm asking you for help." She squeezes my hands, almost scared I could run away, "your marriage to Aemond wou-"

"What?! Marriage?" I finally get my hands free from her grasp and once again distance myself, "I'm not marrying your son. And especially, I'm not supporting an usurper."

Alicent collects herself, takes a deep breath and fixes her dress.

"I'm..." she clears her throat, "I'm sorry, I didn't want it to come to this, but you leave me no choice."

I look at her confused, not having the faintest idea of what's going through her mind.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, putting myself on guard.

"The wedding will take place after Aegon's coronation, I'm sure we could find a dress that will fit you." She says, emotionless. I scoff, loudly.

"Why are you so adamant to make me marry your son?" I ask, "is this a way to make your children love you?"

"It's a good way to show your support in front of the people." She explains.

"I will not be used to support, basically, a robbery." I say, walking to stand in front of her, "I'm not a pawn in your conspiracy."

"You leave me no choice, Y/n." She whispers, forcing herself to move back to the door.

"You always had a choice, Alicent." I tell her before she exit the room. Having it locked. I could hear her say something to a guard, probably to stay put and not letting me leave.

"Fuck." I curse as I pace around the room, trying to find a solution, and maybe not to panic. I want to hit myself for not listening to my bad feelings about Aemond, and for not leaving with Rhaenyra.

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

I don't know exactly how long it's been since I've been locked in my chambers, I haven't seen Rhaenys either at the window, I don't if she was let out or not.

Maybe the moment they let me out for the wedding I can take the chance and run. Unlikely. Too many guards. Also, I can't wait that long.

I look out the window for the millionth time probably, and it's still to high for me to jump.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I mutter under my breath, "why haven't the gods gifted me with wings?"

It's dark outside, if I manage to get out I could easily escape, but I need to exit this room first.

"Fuck!"

Before I can start to panic again, the commotion from outside my chambers startles me. I move closer to the doors, cautiously, to get a glimpse of what might be happening when suddenly the door opens and one of the twins of the King's guard enters, cloak in hand.

"Come, lady Y/n. We don't have much time." He tells me handing me the cloak, I take it confused.

"What... what's going on?" I ask, and in that moment Rhaenys comes into my view.

"Ser Erryk is helping us." She says.

I nod and put the cloak on and follow them out, noticing as I walk out the passed out guard near the doors.

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

Morning comes rather quickly as we walk through King's Landing.

"I won't leave Meleys" the Princess declares, "if I could get to the Dragon pit, then..."

"No." Erryk is quick to shut her plan down, "they'll expect you there, princess. You won't get past the gates."

"He's right." I agree, "he's right, and we can't risk losing you like this. Meleys knows you're not abandoning her, and they won't lay a hand on her for sure."

She looks at me, sadness filling her eyes. I can't understand the bond between a dragon and its rider, but I can understand it's strong. I gently take her arm and lead her with Ser Erryk, letting her squeeze me to get some comfort.

"Come, you must make for the riverfront and find a ship. Before they know you've gone." Erryk explains and I nod my head in understanding.

As we walk through the stroll of the city we hear guards screaming, ordering people to move. A sea of people almost surrounding us, we try to find another way, Erryk takes our hands to safely lead us away, but the amount of people pushing and walking separate us.

"Stay close to me." Rhaenys tells me, grabbing my arm painfully tighter. I don't intend on losing her here among the people so I ignore the pain. I try to look back and see if I can catch a glimpse of the Knight, but he's too far and too stuck to get to us.

We have no choice but to follow the people.

"Where are we going?" I ask and Rhaneys looks up and around.

"Dragon pit." She says, I looked at her, sensing the determination in her and I sigh.

"The coronation..." I say, "well... maybe we can use the distraction then."

"Indeed."

So we walk with the rest of the people towards the Dragon Pit. Once we get there almost the entire building is filled with people, curious to hear what happened, what the news is.

"People of King's Landing." Otto's voice resound inside, "today is the saddest of days. Our beloved king, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead" everyone in the audience lets out sad and surprised noises, but Otto continues, "but it is also the most joyous of days, for as his spirit left us, "I roll my eye, always the theatrical one, "he whispered his final wish: that his firstborn son, Aegon should succed him.

I sigh and look at Rhaneys, her having the same confused look as me. The audience is just as confused, but eventually starts to applause while the guards enter, creating a path for Aegon to walk through.

I take an attentive look at him, he seems nervous, almost reluctant too. One thing was certain: he himself didn't ask for it. Though, I'm afraid of what power could do to him. What scares me the most is how easily his dear Grandfather could manipulate him.

"It's our chance." I feel Rhaenys pulling me to the sideand down the stairs to where the dragons are kept.

Not being very familiar with the place I let the princes lead me down and once we get to Meleys I can't help but freeze.

"Come." She tells me as she gets ready to ride her dragon.

"I..." I stutter a little, "is that okay? Will she be okay with me riding with you?"

"You sell yourself short, my lady." She tells me, "you got an affiliation with dragons, they can feel it. Now come, we have no time to waste."

I take a deep breath as I follow her up on her dragon.

"Let's go, Meleys, fly." She orders in Old valyrian and her dragon immediately complies, "hold tight."

The dragon takes off and I close my eyes waiting to be out of the caves... out in the Dragon pit.

The dragon's roar is mixed with screams of terror from the people taken by surprise as they run to safety.

I open my eyes, I look down the the royal family standing there.

"Open the doors!" Otto screams.

"We have to go." I tell her.

She doesn't respond, only stares at them. I loom down again, my eyes catch Aemond's. He looks furious, hurt too, but there's something more sinister in him now, something that makes my skin crawl.

I see Alicent stand in front of Aegon, expecting Rhaenys to burn them all. Instead Meleys only roars loudly, making them tremble in fear, then she turn around and flies out.

To Dragonstone.

[fiendishfables]

Camillo Carmine x Reader

General Headcanons (SFW + NSFW)

warnings: nsfw, mentions of blood, mentions of biting, cursing

words: 1.4k+

a/n: this was a highly requested work, so enjoy and have fun with the little bonus at the end! This is not really an x reader, but it could be read as such, so oh well. Let me know your thoughts on Camillo's character, and/or if you'd like to see more of him in the near future <3

SFW

✧˚ · . Camillo is basically like a big cat

✧˚ · . Tall motherfucker, standing at approximately 8,2

✧˚ · . The guy is very calm, silent, and sneaky all at once. If anything, he would make an excellent spy and has been offered positions before in that line of work

✧˚ · . Very independent; wont work for anybody but himself and is beyond stubborn

✧˚ · . He is a hardass, but underneath his tough, strong front, is an individual who is a giant kid at heart, who is so deeply loyal and giving that it hurts, and who takes all relationships he makes very seriously, as in he would gladly put his life on the line for someone he cares about; questioning his loyalty is the worst you can do

✧˚ · . Favorite colors consist of greys and purples of any shade; it always struck him as having more of an elegant, dancer sort of vibe, and the display of the colors usually help him to relax in times of distress. His whole bedroom is centered around that color palette and it hasn't been changed since he and Camilla have inherited the mansion

✧˚ · . On the subject of Camilla, he likes to annoy her. His real personality can start to be seen the more time he spends around his sister; they behave just like any normal pair of siblings would. The two have had a love hate relationship growing up and it still is that way, even if just a bit more watered down now. The two like to joke and hang around together every now and again when they aren't off busy with their own lives

✧˚ · . What a Carmine lacks in affection, they make up for in loyalty

✧˚ · . If you wanna talk about dancers, he is one. He loves dancing in his spare time and even uses the Carmine manor as a spot to host dancing lessons amongst sinners willing/wanting to learn

✧˚ · . His silvery pointed dancing shoes are like his literal children, and he always goes into a slight panic whenever he can't find them. They provide him with that sense of security, as dancing is a huge part of his life and he could never stand to be without it; they were also a gift from his mother

✧˚ · . Never likes to ask anyone for anything, especially not help. He likes to cover up his needs with smart-ass comments and handsome smirks that most can't stay mad at for too long

✧˚ · . Has been told he has a very punchable face

✧˚ · . His fangs make for a great, sarcastic smile; his face either consists of a frown or that signature smirk. He uses his fangs for a lot of things, including biting people when they get on his nerves

✧˚ · . Can totally play the piano; claims its a very calming and dignified instrument. He doesn't play it often but when he does, its a gift to anyone around to hear

✧˚ · . On the asexuality spectrum, identifying as demisexual and biromantic. It takes him a little longer than the average sinner to develop feelings for someone, let alone sexual feelings

✧˚ · . As stated before, his relationships are one of the most important things in his life and he handles them with great seriousness

✧˚ · . The epitome of that one secretive, mysterious, tall and mysterious stranger everyone wants to be friends with, but are too afraid to approach directly to ask

NSFW

✧˚ · . It's very difficult to get anything verbal out of this man when he's in the process of being intimate with someone, even if they're his s/o

✧˚ · . The most you can expect is some pleasured grunts, maybe some low groans if you're lucky

✧˚ · . It's not that he isn't enjoying whatever is being brought upon him, he is just one to closely guard his feelings and never really express them too vividly; yes that ends up following him into his sex life

✧˚ · . 9 times out of 10 he prefers to give pleasure rather than receive it

✧˚ · . Loves to degrade and use pet names with his partner; sweetheart, doll, slut, and whore tending to be some of his personal favorites to use

✧˚ · . Big on consent. If you are ever not comfortable with anything he proposes or is in the middle of doing to you, then he will stop instantly and get you anything you need. He may seem like an asshat sometimes, but he is a decent person (if that comes as such a shock)

✧˚ · . Into some form of pet play/leashes, no negotiation

✧˚ · . He always likes to be in control and rarely ever is the submissive one during intimacy.

✧˚ · . Will speak Spanish in bed, usually doing so in order to fluster his partner; it often gets him a positive response

✧˚ · . Being blindfolded is a big kink of his. As a dancer, he is used to having to be accustomed to other senses, so when they are heightened after his sight is temporarily taken from him, he will have a ball of a time

✧˚ · . One of his top favorite things is watching his partner ride him. Just the sight of his cock being sheathed inside your body over and over again as he watches you get off on his lap all on your own

✧˚ · . Dirty dancing is something he is much too fond of. The act of getting all worked up from dancing with one another, teasing each other all the while, then getting to fuck his partner into the ground, whispering praises to them about how well they danced with/for him; he is all too eager to teach you more of what he knows about the dancing world

✧˚ · . The little shit is one of the biggest teases you will ever meet. He honestly has a sex drive that's more so on the lower side and does not need sex as often as most sinners seem to

✧˚ · . But, be prepared when he does have the energy to pleasure you, for he is astounding at it.

✧˚ · . Kissing, biting, steamy makeout sessions, eating you out, fucking you raw; he can do it all and excel in the process

✧˚ · . His fangs usually come into play a lot during sex; a huge fan of biting and leaving marks on his partner to let others know that they have already been claimed

✧˚ · . Camillo is one of those demons you'd be lucky to have sex with. It's not even an egotistical thing, he's just not very sex-coded when it comes to relationships or really anything in general. He believes in a true connection with someone first before engaging in any sorts of those activities, hence his sexuality

✧˚ · . Sex with Camillo is always very serious and passionate. He never allows himself to be as vulnerable as he would be right now, so better to cherish it whilst it lasts

✧˚ · . It's almost like he picks one mate for life, then he's done looking, like some species do

✧˚ · . Thinking of it, when he really gets into action and the rare times he wants to have sex, he fucks like a wild animal. He does have his vanilla, gentle side where he will care for you nothing short of a husband, but if he has the chance or some pent up anger to release, you better prepare to go for multiple rounds of very rough sex

✧˚ · . To top things off, he does have a praise kink. It may be hard to pick up on at first, but if you praise him, let him know how good he's making you feel, he's a mess (at least internally). Nothing really gets him going more than knowing he is fulfilling his job as a partner; making you feel good in every aspect that he can. It gives him purpose and that's really all he needs when he's with his s/o

BONUS~

✧˚ · . One of Camillo's wildest fantasies is to have his lover cockwarming him whilst he plays a song for them on his piano. He can imagine struggling to not fumble over the keys, not let his fingers slip, as he feels you clench around him, biting his lip or your shoulder hard enough to draw blood in order to stifle any noises that may find their way past his lips. That vulnerability is something he knowingly holds sacred; you could potentially be the one to coax it out of him.

[therealslimshakespeare]

A little devil’s lettuce

Sarge 2nd Gen, Summer 1983

Elvis Presley fanfiction

Summary: In the hustle and bustle of the day before Jesse’s wedding to Donna, Elaine finds time for a little bonding with her eldest boy and then her husband

Warnings: Fluffffyyy Mcfluffy! but really this is just goey soft, warnings being diaper changes, some heavy/smutty flirting between Elvis and Elaine, the sneaky use of marijuana by Jesse and Elaine, stoned silliness talking about mermaid holes and “little scarves” and making a baby at 42

Graceland is abuzz with wedding preparations, every flat surface seems cluttered with tulle or flowers or programs, and every table not full of that sorta rubbish is supporting refreshments for the out of town friends and family swarming the place.

Only Elaine Presley would think entertaining people for a week ahead of a wedding was an easy thing to do.

Despite it being preparations for his own wedding, Jesse finds himself mildly overwhelmed by the sheer abundance surrounding him. Abundance of noise and people and flowers and shit lying about. He made one attempt to squirrel away upstairs in his old room and was summarily dragged away from that attempt by Marie who wanted to take pictures of him and Donna. Then take pictures of him and Jack, citing what a rarity it was to have the whole of them together. Jack had a ugly black eye on him, he cites a bar fight in california but oddly, no story of victory is forthcoming so Jesse assumes he got licked and made no further inquiries.

Donna is now preoccupied with Ella and with Tracey Cooke, laughing and squabbling over choosing boutonniere combinations like it really matters how much baby’s breath gets pinned to a fella’s chest. With Daddy, all large belt and white pants and glowing tan presiding over the floral squabble, Jesse has little doubt that Donna will win by choosing whatever he decides would suit her cheeks best.

Thicker than thieves those two already.

Jesse sees his chance and he ducks out of the living room and books it through the kitchen, receiving a taste test of some icing from Mary as he goes, and finally lets himself out the back door.

He slumps to a seat on the garage steps, and knowing time is precious, he lights up the blunt he stashed in his pocket for times like these. A harmless little pastime he’d probably get decapitated by Daddy for if he found out, but it does the trick and it don’t hurt anyone while he’s homebound and off the road.

A few minutes later the door cracks open behind him and Jesse goes to smash the blunt beneath his boot until in an air conditioned gust he sees it’s just his mama. Elaine smells the stink of grass and makes a little sympathetic noise before closing the door behind her and sitting down next to him.

“But Mama -your shorts!” Jesse protests, her pale blue linen getting soiled by the steps.

“Eh, it’ll brush off.” she grins and bumps his shoulder in that way he knows she’s about to conduct a check up on him. Sure enough after watching him take a few puffs she asks sweetly, “You alright, Butnin?”

He grins at the nickname and his laugh is a cloud of green tinged smoke, “Yeah mama, just tired, took awhile to get to sleep last night.

“What kept ya up?” Elaine asks, knowing with the wedding there might be all sorts of nerves to account for. But Jesse has never exhibited even the slightest hint of unsurety about marrying Donna. He’s had to wait four years and now he’s finally getting what he wants and there’s never been a more lackadaisical groom about his hitching himself to the old ball and chain. Elaine reaches out and ruffles his long hair anyway and smiles at the way there’s a sheen of reddish chocolate amongst the black locks when she tousles them just so.

He hands her the blunt and to be perfectly frank, Elaine has been feeling that old craving for champagne to dilute all the craziness and so she draws on it, letting the smoke burn her lungs and rush to her head.

Jesse’s been puffing for a good bit by now and feeling uninhibited in a way he’d never be even two puffs in -which is sorta the point of the smoke anyway- but it serves to loosen his tongue until he answers her without prevarication, “Mermaid holes.”

It’s true, it’s kept him up. Probably brought on by a chat with Jack and furthered by Jesse’s confusion over his brother’s lack of dating since the Great Gardener Debacle. He knows the kid isn’t embarrassed, not as much as the rest of them, so it serves to reason he’s got a dolphin harem to keep him occupied or else…mermaids. But then, how do mermaids…work?

Elaine glances at the blunt she’s already puffed on and wonders at its strength, wonders if a little relaxation is gonna turn her into seeing pink elephants or talking like an idiot.

“Mermaid holes?” she repeats, the subject suddenly a little more intriguing that it was before her last puff. Her head feels light and her aching toes are a removed sensation and suddenly everything seems quite fascinating, even the beetle crawling up Jesse’s jeans and the curiosity of mermaid anatomy.

This stuff is way better than champagne, she thinks.

“Yeah mama, where do they go?” Jesse insists with his cherubic face puckered up in grave contemplation.

She stares at him concerned while taking another hit before passing it back. “Where normal holes go?” she mutters but even to herself it’s a flimsy speculation.

“Maybe they grow legs n’shit.” Jesse decides. “Like when ya pull ‘em outta the water, maybe they grow legs.”

“Ah that makes sense.” Elaine nods, her face puckered too, and if anyone caught them at this moment it would be like finding carnival twins, so mirrored are they in expression and carriage. “Or maybe it’s higher up!” she suggests eagerly, “Like a belly button.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Or- maybe the scales pull back.” Elaine warms to the theory.

“Ooh,” Jesse draws his exclamation out with admiration for his mama’s sharp mind, “like daddy’s scarf, or some shit.”

“Yes!” Elaine gushes, entirely baked alongside him and utterly unrestrained, “they’ve got shiny little scarfs to keep them safe! Keep out the sand and salt, keep them safe from being aggravated and chafed.”

“Oh lord, mama,” Jesse laughs suddenly, “do you ‘member that time daddy got sand in his scarf? At the beach?”

They both start snickering at the memory from ‘62. “Yes!” Elaine agrees, carefully running a finger below her eyes to collect the smearing mascara as her eyes fill with tears of mirth, “I do but…he caught that frisbee, didn’t he?” she giggles.”And he looked so good in those red shorts. Tiny little things.”

“Mhmm, but at what cost?” Jesse agrees and mother and son lapse into another fit of laughter, not at Elvis’ expense but in that fond way of sensible people who humor their insane beloved ones.

“And Rosalee wantin’ to cut it off so it didn’t hurt him no more!” Jesse wheezes beside her in reminiscence.

“Daisy had a k-bar from Rex, she was ready.” Elaine recalls.

“And Jack was hopin’ it was fatal.”

“He was not!” Elaine slaps Jesse’s arm lightly even as she giggles, “You all act like he was a terrible child but he wasn’t! He was sweet!”

“To you.” Jesse clutches his belly. “To the rest he was pretty fuckin’ scary for awhile there, made ‘Elvis’ shit himself sometimes.”

“Language!” Elaine reprimands without any heat, “Y’all didn’t see all the mornings that little darling would wake up and laugh his heart out with Daddy playing shark under the covers. They loved each other…at times.”

“Hmm, Mhmm, i’guess.” Jesse concedes, “Jack’s a lot more tolerable now he’s got his own thing going.” he adds.

“Yes, always good to establish yourself, especially with someone like that, so headstrong both of them.” she murmurs with a sigh, “No house was built for two Elvises.” and she starts snickering again at that thought or whatever scenario it inspired inside her head.

“Maybe he’s chilled out ‘cause of the mermaid harem.” Jesse suggests because Jack is still Jack and having his shit straight ain’t in his wheelhouse. Not all of it, at least. Something’s gotta be up, Jesse can feel it, clear as the kid’s black eye.

“Those dimples would make any mermaid grow legs.” Elaine giggles.

“No mama, it’s a scarf, we decided it’s a shiny scarf.” Jesse reminds, nearly falling off the stair that he’s seated on from his wooziness.

“Yes a little scarf.” Elaine recalls as the door behind them opens and Jesse’s soon to be wife, Donna, steps out and observes them and the skunk grass fumes wafting around them.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me -Ms. Elaine!” Donna gasps in glee at this little rebellion in her otherwise entirely circumspect mother in law.

Elaine spins round with the blunt still between her painted lips and pulls it out in a gust of smoke, a wavering grin on her face. Donna’s not sure she’s ever seen her look so young, though she gets that way around Jesse, like he takes her back to her early mothering days.

“Don’t tell daddy!” Elaine vacillates between a beg and a threat but her smile grows and Donna wonders how the stoned lady intends to keep this a secret but she makes a motion of zipping her mouth anyway.

“Won’t hear it from me!” she swears, “But Elvis is asking for you, he’s halfway through a diaper change and can’t find any wipes. He swears you’ve got the disposable kind somewhere. Johnny tried to find them but he’s given up, too.”

“Oh lord, little Desi uses them to ‘remove her makeup’ so- who knows where they might be.” Elaine refers to her eldest grandchild, Ella’s little girl who likes to mimic her grandmother in all ways. Elaine stands up with a wobble that is steadied by Jesse’s shoulder and Donna’s waiting hands. “Wait, who’s getting their diaper changed?” She asks, suddenly confused by the request, “Did Danny soil himself? Thought we were past that.”

Danny is three and potty trained and as independent as he is loving, and much as Elaine is proud of her toddler’s successes, she misses having a baby, a true baby, in the house.

“It’s one of the neighbor kids, Danny’s friend-“ Donna explains, “-they brought their baby sibling along, no more than a year old I bet. The mom’s at work or something.”

“Oh, alright then.” Elaine shrugs, accustomed to strangers in the house, and she opens the door.

“You’re going in?” Donna asks in some surprise and a little alarm.

“Yes, Elvis needs me.” Elaine answers and that’s not something anyone can argue against and so Donna steps aside and makes certain her mother in law doesn’t trip over the threshold in her heeled sandals.

“Do you really give a damn about those boutonnieres?” Jesse asks his girl as soon as mama has closed the door

“Oh not really.” Donna murmurs, “They’re gonna be gorgeous either way. Elvis is seeing to that.”

“Then don’t go back inside.” Jesse suggests with a drunk grin and his blue eyes beg with such softness as he pats his lap that Donna has no choice but to plop atop his legs and stay with him in the muggy heat.

Miss Mary watched Elaine sashay through the kitchen with narrowed eyes, she’d not seen such a hip swinging gait to the lady of the house in years. A decade perhaps, not since the house used to rock with parties and before the champagne had been used like medicine.

“Lordy Miss Laney, you alright there?” she asked carefully, amusedly watching Mrs. Presley stand atip-toe and rummage in a cabinet, pushing aside spray oil and vanilla.

“Yes, grand, just needing that emergency stash.” Elaine assured over her shoulder and Mary paused in whipping the icing lest she be needed to catch a teetering boss lady. “Aha.” Elaine pulled out a package, “Of these!” she explained as she turned round, presenting the new fangled package of disposable wipes.

Stashed behind the cooking oil. Sure, why not.

Miss Mary grinned back and shrugged, “You’ve got dirt on your behind, Miss Elaine.” she pointed out and the elegant lady of the house was swatting at her plush derrière with a bashful grin as she traipsed out of the kitchen in search of Mr. Elvis, still swaying and jovial.

Entering the somewhat crowded dining room, Elaine found a group of people congregating with outstretched hands and feebly helpful concern around her Ella’s Johnny who had Rosalee standing on his shoulders, switching out a bulb as if they couldn’t afford ladders.

“ ‘Lee?” Elaine questioned it with even less reproof than usual, fully used to such bizarre occurrences and entirely baked by this point, Jesse’s weed having turned everything to middling interest and zero concern, even the picture of Rosalee a good ten or more feet in the air and swaying precariously with feet planted on Johnny’s broad shoulders.

“The bulb’s out!” Rosalee explained with a face red from straining to reach the high mansion ceiling despite her human stepstool and her inherited long limbs.

“Oh, the bulb’s out.” Elaine repeated softly, processing as she stared out the dining room windows at the bright sunshine glaring through.

“Hey Mrs P!” Johnny, tried to turn his neck to face her but Rosalee wobbled from the movement and so he went back to parade rest. “Elvis was looking for ya, needed the wipes for a diaper. I couldn’t find them anywhere, I swear Desi buries them in the potted palms or somethin-“

“Oh I’ve got some right here.” Elaine smiled and waved her package in front of his face enthusiastically.

“Oh. Great.” Johnny’s frown lines deepened in confusion at her enthusiasm. “I uh, I tried looking behind the dog food, Elvis said you keep one there.”

“This one was behind the cookin’ oil.” She whispered conspiratorially and Johnny gave his brief, aborted giggle that had made Elaine like him the instant Ella paraded him through the doors.

“Behind the cooking oil. Naturally.” He quipped and Elaine swatted him with the package causing Rosalee to shriek and beg for stability. “Hey Ella. Mama’s found some wipes!” Johnny called to his still searching wife.

“Where were they, mama?” She asked, coming into view and pushing her hair from her face, not even surprised by the bulb changing.

“Behind the cooking oil.” Elaine tapped the side of her nose and giggled while Johnny and Ella shared a bewildered look between the two of them.

“Where’s my fella?” Elaine purred, looking around the semi crowded room as if it were possible to overlook Elvis Presley. Only at Graceland, during one of Elaine’s parties and surrounded by a horde of children was it possible for Elvis to be anything but the center of attention.

“He’s in Rosalee’s room, mama.” Ella informed her, which in turn had once been Gladys' little lilac refuge. It had taken ten years for Elaine to ease Elvis into using it but eventually a long succession of single, halfway liberated teenage children ended up sleeping in it before moving out to seize life by the horns and pave their own lives and pay their own rent.

It would be quite a few years before Marie had need of it, if the sweet little girl ever even needed it, so devoutly home enjoying as she was, Graceland or Circle G, Texas or California, it all was the same to Marie so long as she was with family. Graceland would sooner be seen giving Marie Presley the boot than Marie Presley voluntarily taking leave for good.

Elaine moved her way through her crowded home with a pleasant smile on her face and a discrete hunch to her shoulders that enabled her to slip past the various conversations wishing to clutch at her, an old art of being able to get from one end of a crowded place to the next when needed by husband or child, that she had honed to perfection.

She felt dizzy and tasted a strange surge of anticipation the closer she got to the tucked away little room downstairs, it might seem silly, but she missed him. Everything had been so very busy the past few days that she had seen her own husband about as much as everyone else had, across crowded rooms or smashed together on sofas, wonderful instances that were topped off every night with a bed crowded with children and grandchildren and adopted God sons and daughters.

There had not been a moment's peace practically, and in a girlish moment of someone newly assured of affection, Elaine felt her fingertips tingle when she reached for the knob and opened the door.

He had pulled the shades and the blindes, which with the glare of the rest of the house was hardly a surprising choice, and only the lamp was turned on in a room that was now no longer Gladys’ soft lilac but now Rosalee’s light sage painted walls, copious English ivy plants spilling over the tops of wooden bookshelves lining the walls. The floor was a plush ivory carpet and Elvis sat on it with one leg tucked in and the other stretched out, his white linen shirt and pale blue slacks looking perfectly at home in Rosalee‘s habitat, blending well with the academic and whimsical atmosphere. Elaine leaned on the knob and appreciated the sight of a stranger's little baby, no more than a year old surely, laying on its back in the vee of his long legs, disposed of diaper safely out of reach, midway through a process that had been stalled by lack of wipes.

Not to be thrown by such unforeseen occurrences, Elvis had waited it out until his Tink came for him as he always expected she would, and in the meantime he was making earnest conversation with the infant about the Christmas list, even though it was currently summertime. They were weighing whether or not a chainsaw could be made to size for such little hands, Elvis’ own lean, tan and long fingers squished a doughy bicep playfully and insisted that the child was almost capable.

“Awww looooook at youuu.” Elaine cooed, leaning heavily on the door knob and clutching her chest at the sight, the raucous outside the room having disguised the sound of her opening the door to Elvis’ ear.

He looked up with a disoriented look as if having quite forgotten the world outside him and the baby’s Christmas plan until his eyes landed on Elaine in the doorway and his grin flashed, the old natural one, all cheesy teeth and lips tucked in. “You got my wipes?”

“I do.” She preened.

“Well, hand ‘em over woman, I’m bout ready to gag over here.” he beckoned, rings still glittering on his hand and Elaine didn’t doubt that one day the baby would tell stories about how Elvis Presley changed their diaper without even taking off his bling for it.

Elaine closed the door behind her and traipsed over to him on jelly legs, her heeled sandals sinking precariously into the deep shag of the carpet, she steadied herself on his shoulder and handed down the wipes.

He looked her up and down with curious amusement, as if something was amiss but he couldn’t place it, yet with diaper stench so close he didn’t spend time on it. Elvis took the wipes and began to complete his task, Elaine sank down to her knees beside him and put her chin on his shoulder, watching him work, wrapping her arms around his waist like a clingy little koala to his back.

“Who is he?” she asked her husband about the baby he was tending so naturally. It wasn’t uncommon, their house being constantly full of strangers and friends of friends and their children’s buddies. She had seen Elvis caring for a kid or two like this before, or else baths or a good hosing off or, without fail, he provided them snacks at the least suggestion of hunger or even boredom. But she didn’t know this little one and something about seeing Elvis at this task when their Danny was too grown for it -it made her sentimental and she held on a little tighter, squeezing her appreciation for the sight into his flesh.

“Kid brother of Clarke, the kid two blocks over?” he explained, “The one Danny invites? Yeah, apparently their mama’s workin’ double shift today and the babysitter stepped out and Clarke thought he’d come on here since the house was empty. Poor little feller must’ve been scared stiff.”

“You mean little Clarke walked all that way carrying a baby?” she gasped.

“Yeah,” Elvis grunted. “I sent Sammy H. to go stay at the house and let the mama know her kids ain’t been stole by that trash sitter. Poor woman.”

“Poor woman.” Elaine echoed, neither of them ever quite getting used to the tales of hardship they were uniquely situated to hear of day after day. “Well, you tell her Elvis, tell her we’ll watch him from now on, Clarke too. Danny needs more friends his age besides. -What’s his name?” she asked after a minute of babbling to him herself.

“Dunno, but he responds well to buddy.” He shrugged, “Ain’t that right, buddy, huh? I ain’t forgot about lettin’ you play the piano, Buddy, no I haven’t, Uncle Elvis keeps his word, yes he does.”

Elvis could feel her grin grow behind his back and like clockwork her anticipated finger came and scritched at his right sideburn with her nail. “I’ve missed seeing you with babies.” she whispered with a giggle.

“We have a baby.” Elvis let out that staccato, huffing laugh of his.

“Danny is three.” Elaine pouted.

“And you’re four—ty…twooo.” Elvis goofed as he propped the newly changed and docile little boy up on his roly-poly legs.

“I’ve already had a baby as a grandmother.” Tink mused and she cocked her head to the side and watched the baby wobble towards Elvis with his entire little hands clutched onto Elvis’ index fingers like handlebars. “But I married such a pretty boy.” she sighs as if out of nowhere and drags her hand admiringly right down the length of Elvis’ bicep, in appreciation for the flexed muscle beneath linen.

Elvis let’s out a little squeak of surprise and turns on his ass to give his wife a more searching once over. She stays grinning on her knees, long tanned legs tucked beneath her in those light blue shorts that coordinate with his trousers, loopy grin on her face.

“Lord have mercy,” he falls back a little, taking the baby with him in his scramble till they look like little lambs being watched by a ready to pounce cat, “Aunt Delta spike the punch again?”

It’s not that Elvis doesn’t appreciate when Tink gets…admiring…but she sure does pick the queerest times for it, in his mind. The hell was so dreamy about wiping shit? He’s yet to understand her in many ways but from over twenty years of marriage, he knows those glossy eyes ain’t from eye drops.

“No, nobody’s touched the punch.” she giggles and begins to crawl closer, dyed auburn hair falling forward in large, barrel rolled curls.

The baby boy begins to laugh, thinking she’s playing tiger. Effortless Elaine switches into the role he wants and raises a hand like a claw and makes a dive for the baby's round little belly and Elvis ducks and rolls, taking him with him.

“Careful, careful, Laney, there’s a diaper -“

-somewhere.

He’s not sure where, it’s a mercy his back doesn’t squash it or his head thud in its foamy fullness as he rolls away from his wife, a stranger's kid giggling like mad while braced to his chest. He throws a halfhearted karate kick at her and the angle is awkward with being mid roll and on his side, she grabs his leg anyways and proceeds to tickle his ankle and he aims his kicks in earnest in response. Elaine straddles his leg as he lays on his side and she crows like it’s some victory, then sways in confusion, like she’s second guessing her own success.

He can practically see the slow as molasses thought process in her airy little head. The hell did his wife take? There’s no liquor on her breath and she swore -they made vows to each other, each giving up the drugs and booze that had gotten them estranged from each other and themselves. He knows she wouldn’t. “What now?” he asks her in dry amusement and after much thought and no production, she shrugs and slips off his leg, landing with a wince inducing thump by his side.

“I dunno.” she admits and closes her eyes, small smile on her lips as they lay panting on the floor, the clink of Elvis’ rings the only immediate sound as the baby plays with them between the married couple. “I just missed you.” she says.

“Well, I missed you too.” he melts, throwing his arm out and running his fingers through her splaying hair. She leans into the touch, grin fully breaking out.

“Our boy is getting married.” she murmurs, as in the production of the whole thing, the significance has dwindled except for the quiet moments.

“Strangest thing, that it’s time for that.” Elvis agrees, softly. “I ‘member him just this age, rollin’ ‘round with me on the floor in Bad Nauheim, got more carpet burns than him. Now…Gettin’ married.” he let out a long whistle and scratched at Elaine’s scalp. “I don’t feel that old.” he admitted after awhile.

Whatever mood Tink was in, whatever goofy laziness had imbued her with such sangfroid about her duties and her guests, it served for a much needed little heart to heart and Elvis snuggled closer to her on the shag carpet and let the baby climb over his shoulder and pull at his hair, wincing at the small tortures but determined not to be a wimp.

“I don’t feel old either.” she agreed and her eyes popped open, the grin suddenly going from dreamy to having a decidedly vampiric quality. Elvis had often seen that look on his wife right before he got eaten alive.

“Sweet Jesus -no, simmer down, simmer down. Tink!” he tried to avert the plans swirling in her glossy eyes.

“Doesn’t my pretty baby wanna make me happy?” she cooed to him and between the actual baby tugging at his hair and the wife patting his cheeks it was all a guess to Elvis whether he was a father of a twenty something son or Elaine Presley’s pretty boy, ever at her disposal.

“Mamas, if you needs…some…tenda lovin’ care…” he gave her a significant look of expectation to understand his child-proof code, “then we can go find ourselves a little space in this house and uh…tend to it. Bed’s been real full, I know.” he soothed.

Elaine clutched her heart dramatically again and sighed, staring at the ceiling before propping up on an elbow again and gripping his chin with her hand, she put her face next to his and whispered with throaty care, “What I want, pretty daddy, is to maul you.”

And with that she laid back down beside him, after having watched her words register and the punched out moan of his gust over her lips. She stared back at the ceiling and sighed. “It’ll have to wait, but…soon.”

Elvis licked his dry lips with a tongue that had suddenly gone equally arid. “O-o-okey mamas.” he stuttered out in a whisper that ended with a wheeze as the baby hoisted themselves to dance on his belly like it were a trampoline.

“I’m very wet right now.” Elaine began again after he thought they’d shelved it.

“Laney!” he begged.

“I am!” she hissed petulantly, kicking up a leg and shaking her foot at the ceiling, “It’s making sticky noises when I walk.”

“I-I-I highly doubt that.”

“It is!” She insisted.

“Alright. It is. If you say so…ok.”

“Nothing to do about it though.” she sighed.

“No.” he agreed warily.

“What would you name him.” she asked suddenly, turning on her side and offering her hand as stability for the baby balancing on Elvis’ stomach. Good thing he had muscles of steel or else he’d be a mess right now with the digging little footsteps.

“Name who?“ Elvis sputtered, bewildered by the changes in topic.

“This baby. If he was ours.”

“Oh.” He sniffed. “I dunno, actually. Baron, maybe?”

“Hmm..” Elaine was unenthused.

“Who says we’d have another boy though?” he argued suddenly, “I mean who says this hypothetical baby we ain’t gonna make -no we ain’t mama’s, you’re crazy- would be a boy. What if it was a girl.”

“I’d name her Peace.” Elaine didn't skip a beat.

Elvis pondered that, fingers back to stroking the curls splayed on the carpet, “Mm. Shiloh.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! I’ve missed these babies and I’m grateful for y’all’s patience. Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me. 💋

@prompted-wordsmith

@powerofelvis

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

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@ash-omalley

@steph-speaks

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@angelface-555

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@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

————————-

@dkayfixates

@vampireindistress

@ashtag6887

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@obsessedvibee

@peskybedtime

@goth-cowgirl-03

@stephthestallion

@fav-fanficssss

@loving-elvis

—-

@honeyorangess

@soloangel

@xenaspace3-blog

@60svintage

@dragonkingsdaughter

@presleysgirl6

@that-hotdog

@mydarlingelvis

@presleysweetheart

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[punkshort]

Shortie my love!! Could we get a lil sneaky peaky of swept away when you get the chance? 👉🏼🥺👈🏼

Hi there, sure! This is from the beginning of the chapter:

"Somethin's up." You shook your head and pressed your lips together, focus still fixed on your task. "No. Just... like you said. Sad it's over." Joel ticked his jaw to the side, still not convinced. Then it dawned on him and he slowly sat down on the edge of your bed. "We never talked last night like I said we would," he said. "'M sorry, I was thinkin' 'bout the land and all the shit I gotta do to finalize the sale... we'll talk on the plane, alright? Promise, baby." For some reason, hearing him call you baby made your stomach turn and you instantly bristled. "Uh, no, it's fine," you insisted, tucking your hair behind your ear when you bent over to shove your toiletries into your bag. "Nothing to talk about, it was stupid." And now, it really did seem stupid. Admitting you would have come there without being paid just for him to lie and break your heart hours later? But, shit... it was still true. Even after he lied, you still didn't want any of his money. He could keep it all if it meant he would open up and let you in. "Wasn't stupid," Joel finally said softly. He was beginning to worry now. Something wasn't right and it was making his pulse race. When you breezed past him to gather the things from your nightstand, he grabbed your wrist and spun you around. Reluctantly, you met his eye and he gazed up at you imploringly. "Talk to me." You inhaled a shaky breath and dropped your chin to your chest. "Joel... I still have to pack-" "I don't care," he said sternly, "I got people to do that for us. Why ain't you lookin' at me?" Nerves shot through your limbs, fingers beginning to shake so you curled them into fists. You had to bring it up one way or another, right? The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

[suwbuns]

E-DATERS! | annoying cockblocks

SYPNOSIS. moving back to korea from america, y/n is excited to reunite with her old friends and make new ones. what she doesnt expect is to find herself reuniting with her “ex-boyfriend” from 10 years ago who she dated over minecraft. what makes things worse? he happens to be her favorite streamer who she has been pinning after for years.

written + screenshots below! (not proofread sorry hehe)

“bro, how hard is it to open the door?”

“can’t you see im trying? the stupid lock isnt working—“

“thats because youre putting it in wrong!”

“well then you try it!” soobin rolled his eyes, stepping aside from the doorway to make room for you to try and open it yourself.

after inputting the 4 digit code, the faint click of the door unlocking was barely audible to your group, arising a sigh of relief from you as its been almost 10 minutes that you’ve been standing outside in the blazing heat. the adrenaline fueled your eagerness and caused you to quickly twist the knob to reveal the house that you and your friends would stay in for the next week.

including beomgyu.

the thought of being able to be in the same vicinity as your long term idol caused excitement to rush throughout you from the moment you found out up til present time, where you found yourself urgently rushing inside and dragging along your luggages to tour the house yourself.

“i call this room!” you yelled down the hallway over the chaos of soobin, yeonjun, and taehyun arguing over certain bedrooms that they wanted.

you chose the room that was right at the edge of the hallway on the first floor, and directly across from yours was the door to another bedroom. it was the one that had best satisfied your taste, yet a part of you chose it wishing by some miracle, beomgyu could be sleeping in the room across.

if yeonjun would even allow that of course.

as the boys found their own respective rooms, soobin and taehyun reluctantly sharing one of the larger rooms on the second floor and yeonjun with his own on the further side of your own hallway, all of you had later gathered in the living room.

“when are they arriving?” you questioned, leaning your back against the sofa.

“tomorrow morning,” yeonjun replied, scrolling through the notifications on his phone. “their plane just took off not too long ago.”

you tried your best to hide the smile that began to form on your lips in order to avoid yeonjun’s dreadful reminders to stay away from the boy, as his meaningless lectures about staying away from him had been all you heard for the past month. you yourself werent quite sure if you would obey his rules, perhaps a sneaky hello or a smile when passing by eachother would be acceptable.

but if anything were to happen, it was not like yeonjun had to know.

the nerves that had found its home inside your stomach from the moment you stepped off the plane never left you. even after the sun had rose initiating the start of the next day, its feeling did not subside. rather, it contributed alongside the jetlag for the little amount of hours you slept.

in fact, it even followed you on the way to the airport to pick up the three boys, and intensified as you stood outside their boarding gate, anxiously clutching your sweater closer to your figure.

you scanned through the crowd of people who walked outside of the boarding bridge and onto the terminal, several unfamiliar faces passing by until you came across the recognizable ones of the three streamers.

“jeongin! beomgyu! kai!” yeonjun called out over the loud chatter in the airport, flailing his hand through the air in order to gather their attention. “over here!”

you caught sight of the boys excitingly running over to your group of friends, yet almost instantly your eyes automatically fixated on the boy in the flannel; a boyish grin on his face as he greeted your friends with an embrace and a handshake, as if they havent seen eachother in months.

“your mouth is open,” taehyun snickered as he nudged your shoulder, knocking you out of your daze. “i think you’re drooling too.”

you sent a glare straight at the boy, failing to catch the three boys that towered over you with smiles on their faces, causing you to jump in surprise once you turned forward.

“you must be y/n!” jeongin said, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. “it’s so nice to finally meet you— bro what the hell?”

jeongin yelped as he was abruptly pushed to the side causing him to bump against huening kai’s shoulder, not even being able to finish his greeting towards you. meanwhile, another hand shot out right in front of you in replacement of his. your eyes grew in bewilderment, first at jeongin who grumbled in annoyance with his arms crossed over his chest, and secondly at the culprit who now stood in front of you, a widespread grin across his face that made your heart beat faster.

“hi y/n! im beomgyu!” your breath hitched as he greeted you excitingly. you felt your mouth run dry at the unexpected encounter, staring at his hand then back up to his eyes.

that was a mistake, because the moment your eyes met his, you felt yourself getting sucked into them and your knees about to give out any moment. if it wasnt for his hand reaching out to grab yours to forcefully initiate a handshake, you knew for a fact you wouldve fallen to the floor.

yet now you were faced with both his smiling and utterly adorable face right in front of you, and his unusually soft and warm hand making contact with yours.

“okayyy!” yeonjun dragged out as he yanked beomgyu’s body further away from yours, disconnecting your hands from eachother that seemed to linger longer than a usual handshake. “lets get going now, yeah?”

per yeonjuns request (or demand), beomgyu rode in the passenger seat while you were uncomfortably squished in the back of the rented minivan between taehyun and soobin, a frown sprawled across your lips as yeonjun had managed to shoot down every chance of conversation that beomgyu had attempted to initiate with you. in annoyance, you fished out your phone from your back pocket to text bogum.

y/n: this is so unfair.

bogum: whats up?

y/n: my friend is being an asshole

y/n: hes literally not letting me talk to him

bogum: wtf? thats so rude of him

y/n: I KNOW

y/n: also gyu is literally so hot in person i love how flannels look on him

y/n: UGHHHHHHH IM GONNA CRY UR TELLING ME I HAVE TO LIVE AN ENTIRE WEEK WITH THE LOML WITHOUT BEING ABLE TO DO ANYTHING HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO STOP MYSELF FROM WANTING TO KISS HIM HES SO MFING CUTE ☹️☹️☹️

a boisterous laughter pierced through the small chatter in the van, causing you to look up curiously from your phone to the boy with the distinct laugh. beomgyus mouth twisted into a tight lipped smile, a poor effort to mask any further laughs from escaping since a string of giggles had followed his uproar anyways.

bogum: aww i hope you get to talk to him soon

the conversation you and bogum had about beomgyu and your misfortune had continued until the car rolled into the driveway, causing you to quickly pocket your phone and walk alongside your temporary roommates for the week inside the house.

“beomgyu, you will be staying in this room right here.” yeonjun said, ushering everybody upstairs to arguably, the largest room in the entire house. in which apparently, yeonjun’s selfish desires of having a large room was clearly not enough if it meant sacrificing it in order for beomgyu to be as far from you as possible.

“this isnt fair!” kai groaned in envy, crossing his arms while leaning his body against the door frame and peering into the luxurious room. beomgyu seemed overjoyed by this decision, as he teasingly stuck out his tongue towards him. “how come beomgyu hyung gets the room with a king sized bed, a bathroom, and a walk in closet!”

“your room isn’t bad kai,” yeonjun rolled his eyes in efforts to stop his complaining. “i’ll show you in a bit, it’s right across from y/ns.” he added.

you watched beomgyu’s eyes widen at the newly discovered information, rushing over to kai and furiously shaking his shoulders.

“please, can we switch?” beomgyu begged, pouting at the younger boy with his hands still over his shoulders. “i saw the room, and its literally so small you wouldnt even be able to put your stuffed animals on the bed without them falling off!”

you laughed at beomgyu’s futile attempts which brought upon a faint blush on your cheeks, flattered at the thought of beomgyu wanting to switch to a smaller room if it meant being across from you.

“its up to yeonjun hyung, not me.” kai gulped nervously, shifting uncomfortably at the unsettling feeling of yeonjun staring him down from meters away, which earned a dejected expression from beomgyu.

you had already learned to accept your fate that absolutely nothing would happen between the two of you during the entire trip, yet beomgyu had a strangely abundant amount of persistence that seemed to fuel his desire for you. a desire that seemed to have not settled or shrunk even a bit, no matter how many times hes gotten turned down, not by you, but your insufferable friend.

but beomgyu was good at many things, definitely not at getting girls, but finessing his way around annoying cockblocks was something that he considered to be possible.

even if it meant having to slip a messily handwritten note under your door when nobody was looking.

if youre still up once everyone is sleeping, can i meet you in your room? i just wanna talk to you :(

—gyu :)

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST. @openingssequence @suburbiataehyung @shinypieceofgarbage @fairysoobx @koeuh @captivq @beowmgyu @qluvrv @ikaeryn @whippedforbeomgyu @i8lhee @heyanonymous123 @vanicogh @sulliefimmie @tae-ology @milkycloudtyg @ox1-lovesick @soobsfairy444 @sulliefimmie @jaxavance @peachenle @pokyloky @peachybeom @alpha-mommy69 @fatoompie @ashxxgyu @soobsdior @viagumi @rikismiel @luvsoobs @lovejunz @wccycc @enha-cafe @kaeslily @hiddenboopy @cashew00nut @merendis @reverbtunes @lcvesickgyuzz @dear-dreamie @fragmentationss @chuuinggummy @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @beomsbeanie @shigamiryuk @soobliss @woncheecks @sserafimez @ahnneyong @ghostfacefricker6969 @flrtsbin @beomomb @cathaerin (closed)

A/N. GUYS IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT THERE ARE GONNA BE A LOT OF WRITTEN CHAPTERS SOON 😭 ILL TRY AND INCORPORATE BOTH THO SO PLS FORGIVE MY MIDDLE SCHOOL WRITING AJJDJSJ

[thatstonedwriter]

Never Again – Part 2

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N- I wasn't planning on writing for Crimson, but I'm willing to take a crack at his character. I hope I handle his character properly and sensitively. This is an exception and I will not write for Crimson again.

Contents; Crimson, violence, references to the mafia (as its presented in the show), mentions of severe injuries, blood, swearing, angst, fluff, polyam

Feat; Moxxie x Millie x Reader, Striker, Crimson

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everything stops- there's no air. What did you do? Why aren't you moving? You're like this because you were making sure they didn't get hurt. Its their fault, they know they have to do.. Something, but..

Tears are welling up in Moxxie's eyes. Once again, he's been proven to not be strong enough. Millie is feral, chasing off whoever dared come near you. When she's finally calmed down enough, she rushes to your and Moxxie's side. Even when the emergency services arrive, Millie is so on edge that she barely lets them touch you. The ride to the hospital was tense, paramedics doing what they could to stop the bleeding, and even then, they were worried it wouldn't be enough. Over the course of your recovery, Moxxie and Millie never left your side. Some days, they would take turns staying with you, to ensure your safety, and to keep you company; which would include Moxxie playing music for you, and Millie laying next to you, holding your hand, and telling you about whatever shenanigans the I.M.P crew was up to. They just want to see you happy. It takes a while for them to process the guilt, however once you're back home, these two love birds shower you with more love than ever thought possible.

Striker has never felt so powerless before. And he never would've expected, in a million lifetimes, that someone would do what you've just done for him. It takes every ounce of self restraint for him not to run after the bastard who did this to you. You are his priority. As much as he wants to, he knows he can't treat your injuries- so he calls for help. At first, he doesn't visit you in the hospital. This has never happened before, he needs time to process what it all means. What you mean to him. When Striker finally musters the nerve to visit you (though he has to be sneaky), he makes sure to bring some foods he knows you like. He's never been good at affection or talking about his feelings, so for now, he hopes this can be enough. Once you're discharged, he offers for you to stay at his place. Should you accept, he'll be sure to do his best to show you how much this all meant to him. Striker never wants to risk you getting hurt again.

Crimson orders his goons to rush you to the nearest hospital. Once you're out of his sight, the shock wears off, and the severity of the situation hits him with full force. Because of his.. 'status,' he avoids following you, and instead sends various people to bring you food, and flowers. At first, he does it as a courtesy, but then he notices how empty everything feels without you around. He isn't used to this. Upon your discharge, you find several body guards and a car waiting for you. Lowkey sketch, but you know who gave the orders. Once you're back, Crimson keeps you by his side, threatening to kill anyone who dares to send a questioning glance at the two of you. He's not at all versed in caring for others, but he does his best to make sure every want and need is met. You'll never be hurt again. Not on his watch. And within the next couple weeks, there is a new mount on his wall..

[gaybananabread]

I might be forgetful or just obsessed, but I don't think anyone's asked for headcanons about our Spider Gang: Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, and Hobie. >w< Or just your favorites, of course. I admit I'm most curious about Gwen and Hobie.

-Panda/Black Feathers

🕸️Spider Gang Tkl Headcanons☆

~What's wrong with both? But yeah, I've yet to do headcanons with these goobers. I don't know this “consistency” people speak of, so expect none of it. I do wanna add some other spider peeps to these, but we'll keep it to the Gang for now. Expect some more food, probably within the next few weeks. Thank you for the request!~

🎧Miles🎨

General:

We can all agree that he's a massive dork about this, right?

He's a lee-leaning switch, though it's close.

Loves tickling both ways, but can admit neither.

Boy gets squirmy every time the word is even mentioned. You bet he practically dies when any scene comes on TV

Lee:

Lee moods for him are quite frequent.

His friends have a system for detecting them at this point. Checklist and everything if they feel like being goofs.

Nervous giggles, extra knee bounces, higher voice, showier clothes if he's bold, easy blushes and jumpiness. They've got him down to a T at this point (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

Super squirmy lee, you almost definitely need to pin him if you wanna live. Known for his donkey-kicks.

Worst spots are his armpits. He will screech if you even try to get him there. Not a spot for the weak-willed.

Melt spot is his neck. A few fluttering fingers, maybe gentle scritches under his chin, and you’ll have a giggly puddle of sleepy mirth.

Real easy to fluster. Say the t-word a few times, compliment his inevitable blush, maybe incorporate the Itsy Bitsy Spider. Immediate results!

He feels like he'd be super air-ticklish. Can not handle any wiggling fingers or sneaky teases.

Doesn't ask for what he wants, like, ever. Gotta use your detective skills around him (the checklist above is very helpful (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠))

Ler:

Such a shit, even though he can't handle a fraction of what he dishes out-

Absolutely webs people up to help himself (only if they're comfy with it ofc)

Very playful and teasing. You blush? Get ready for him to point it out at least seven times. Snort? Good luck.

“Your cheeks are all red, gigglebox. This fluster you that bad?”

“Aww, you snort? No, don't hide your face! I wanna hear it again!”

“What d’ya think happens when I go here? Yeah, right there. Only one way to find out~”

Once he gets a handle on his venom power, he learns that very small shocks can be quite effective in wrecking his lee.

So, Miles being Miles, abuses that knowledge at the most inopportune times.

Little jolts during training, walking through the halls, studying, you name it. By the end of the day, people are either ready to kill him or want him to just get it over with. He's happy either way.

Has high respect for boundaries. Before starting, he'll make sure the safeword is remembered and clarify what they're comfortable with.

Super nice aftercare. Cuddles, snacks and maybe listening to some music and napping on him while he sketches.

🥁Gwen🩰

General:

I’m gonna go with ler-leaning switch. Like Miles, it’s pretty close. These kids just love to laugh ¯\_(´꒳`)_/¯

A bit better in terms of confidence. If it’s a good day and the mood isn’t too severe, she can ask one of her close friends. Other than that, suffering until someone notices.

Lee:

When she gets lee moods, everyone is almost immediately alerted.

Either she has the courage to ask, or in the more likely event that she doesn’t, she’ll provoke everyone.

Snippy comments, crop tops, hair up, sarcasm for days, and THE SASSSS

If they don’t realize she’s in a lee mood, they’re gonna wreck her anyway for getting on their nerves.

A squirmer for sure, though not quite as bad as Miles. Careful of her legs, though. She was a dancer; that kind of strength combined with spider-power won’t feel very good to the jaw.

Worst spot is her navel. A few raspberries and she’ll be a cackling, snorty mess.

Melt spots are her back and ears. She loves light traces and scratches along her back, and a feather on the shells of her ears would be heavenly.

Adores cheer-up tickles. You’ll make her entire week if you gently trace her belly or squeeze her sides when she’s upset.

She’s got a really pitchy, bubbly laugh. You get her to belly laugh, and you’ll be rewarded with lovely snorts.

Ler:

VERY sassy and playful. Will tease the living hell out of you and giggle while she does it.

Anything she can tease you for, she will. Usually teasing-compliments, but she shakes it up.

“Such an adorable belly! It’s like it was made for me to poke and squeeze. Can’t deny its purpose, can I?

“It’s so easy to fluster you! I just need to say that one little word, and you can hardly breathe~”

“It tickles, does it? Sucks to be you. Now, onto those ribs…”

Gwen likes doing her nails with her friends, so those babies are always nice and tickly. The boys can never manage to keep theirs like that, no matter how hard they try.

She likes blowing raspberries if it’s someone she’s close to. Loves the silliness, and their reactions are just too cute.

Very good at giving cheer-up/comfort tickles. If someone’s upset, they go to Gwen for some special pick-me-ups.

Wondrous aftercare. Back rubs, praises and a movie night. She’ll even braid your hair if that’s something you’d enjoy.

✮Hobie🎸

General:

The switchest spider to walk the Earth, I dare you to fight me on this/j

So chill on both fronts. He just goes with the flow.

Has magic “can say the t-word whenever” powers, loves abusing them.

Absolute menace in tickle fights. He’ll either kick your ass, or fluster the hell out of you while you attempt to wreck him.

If anyone’s in a mood, lee or ler, Hobie’s their best bet.

Lee:

Okay, so…he definitely is open to being wrecked by his friends.

One of them has a killer ler mood? Hobie’s here to help. He’s gonna be all teasy about it, but it’s quickly replaced with giggles.

When he’s just straight-up in a lee mood, he can ask with next to no problems. Coincidentally, he “accidentally” flusters his ler more often than not.

If he just doesn’t feel like asking, he’ll put on a crop top, rest his arms behind his head, and wait for someone to get a ler mood or try something.

We can all agree that this smug bastard would try to fluster his ler, right?

Holding his arms up without being asked, telling them to keep going, how good they’re doing, “Ready when you are~”, teasing them for “staring,” the list goes on.

Worst spots are his feet, followed by his underarms and hips. He’s not always in the mood for footer tickles though, so the pits are your best shot.

Melt spots are his calves and palms. Mr. Guitar would adore some hand tickles, and the tall prick deserves some draw-backs.

Rumbly, base-sounding giggles if it isn’t that bad a spot. If it is, you’ll get loud, boisterous, scraggy laughter. Very fun to find and point out the differences to him, he’ll definitely appreciate it! ( ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )

Ler:

He has two sides, one very different from the other.

The first is gentle, comforting tickles. He won’t go too fast or vigorous, only upping the ante if you ask or seem ready.

“Those some cute giggles ya got there, mate. Glad you’re sharin’~”

“You’re adorable, ya know that? All blushes an’ squirms, but you ain’t said ‘stop’ once~”

The other is the one you should be terrified of.

Evil teases, immediate worst-spot tickles, keeps you laughing until you’re in tears (unless you tap out beforehand)

“Wha’s that? Oh, tickles, does it? Good, ya needed a laugh.”

“Man, you’re laughin’ pre’y hard. Blushin’, too. I didn’ know any better, I’d say yer enjoyin’ yourself~”

Either way, he listens to boundaries and stops whenever you ask/seem like you’re done. Boy is all about respect, in this sense anyway.

He definitely plays the lee-guitar game. Your ribs are now his strings. Might even get his pick out if he’s feeling really evil.

Changes up his methods for each lee (let’s stick with the gang’s regular moods here before I go on a tangent)

For Pav, he’s a smug asshole. Lots of fake-outs before he actually starts, continuously calls his reactions “fuckin’ adorable” to see him blush. No mercy until it’s needed.

With Miles, he’s a bit less evil. Mainly just teases him for being so ticklish and his blushes.

For Gwen, he’s rougher. She usually likes to forget her name, and he’s more than happy to help. Raspberries, teases, the whole nine. Whatever gets her cackling.

Amazing with aftercare. Will pull you into his lap for cuddles, and he gives incredible massages and back rubs. Praise for days if you need them, and even if you don’t, he’s happy to supply them.

🪷Pavitr☕

General:

Suuuuuch a sunshine boy I swearrrrrr ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

He gives lee-leaning switch. Loves getting his ass handed to him, but occasionally loves making his friends giggle and squeal.

Can admit that he likes both sides, though he can only say the t-word itself if he isn’t flustered.

Always up for helping one of his friends if they’re in a ler mood, and sometimes ready to wreck them for the greater good (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Lee:

Loves being tickled, especially if he’s in a really bad lee mood.

Most of the time, he’ll whine to either Hobie or Gayatri that he’s “feeling fuzzy” and they’ll get the message. If he isn’t that worked up, he’ll flat out ask.

Very squirmy little worm, though he doesn’t flail like some of the others. Has accidentally headbutted before though, so careful if you’re messing with his neck.

Decently easy to fluster, though it takes a while to wreck him. You’ve gotta know exactly what you’re doing to really get him good (just ask Hobie or Miles, they’re loving narcs)

Worst spot is his belly, specifically his navel. Raspberries are killer for him there. Him and Gwen share a death spot and both torment each other with that knowledge.

Melt spots are his forearms and under his chin. Adorable to trace a few inches up from his pits and watch him dissolve. You can’t tell me he wouldn’t love some gentle tickles under his chin, can you? (answer: no)

Bright, bubbly, almost boyish giggles. Things get a lot pitchier when you really wreck him, squeaks and squeals coming in no short supply.

Ler:

Surprisingly formidable ler when the mood strikes him.

Most don’t suspect it to be that bad and give him full reign. They’re quickly proven wrong.

He respects boundaries of course, doesn’t ever go overboard. Takes breaks to check in and let his lee breathe every few minutes.

Loves to tease with compliments and praises. This is where he abuses his powers.

“Aww, your laugh is so cute! Who knew you’d be so ticklish?”

“That blush is just adorable, friend. You really have to show it more often!”

“I know, it really tickles here, huh? You’re doing great!”

If he’s feeling like a goober, he’ll play “Tickle Monster” and blow little raspberries on your belly. Might even make little “nom” noises while he does it to be a menace.

Loves giving tickle hugs. He’ll sneak up behind someone, koala-hug them and start wiggling his fingers into their sides. (Being short actually helps him there)

If one of his friends is upset or stressed, he’ll talk it out with them before suggesting a tickly cheer-up. If they don’t legitimately object, he’ll sweetly tease them until they’re all giggly and happy again.

SUPER sweet with aftercare. Cuddles, snacks, praises, and just general conversation. If you want to, he’d even be open to a nap.

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

Secret Agent Boy-Who-Lived

Writer: Watermelonsmellinfellon Ship: Tomarrymort TAGS: AU-HBP, Humor, Crack, Voldemort/Horcrux Shenanigans.

~.O.~

‘Subtly inquire about his plans for the future and his thoughts regarding blood status.’

It wasn’t a difficult task. It wasn't something that Harry could not achieve. But could he achieve it with the best results when he was trying to be sneaky?

No.

If his life or the lives of others weren’t in danger, Harry was abysmal at pretending/sneaking. He usually got caught when he did so.

Dumbledore had asked it of him because of the new student. Well, ‘new student’.

Marvolo Slytherin, who was sorted into Slytherin. Harry had recognized that face anywhere. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Apparently, Voldemort had either gotten a new body, or he had made someone take the shape of his younger self. Either way, a young Dark Lord look alike roamed the halls of Hogwarts freely, having been sorted into Slytherin and taking up reins there.

Dumbledore had been rightfully wary and had asked Harry to befriend the ‘teen’. Voldemort should not know that Harry knew what his younger self looked like, according to Dumbledore. Harry should definitely be able to slip into the ‘teen’s’ life without much trouble.

Problem. Slytherin and Gryffindor were opposites. Their tables rested on opposite ends of the Great Hall. Their dorms on opposite ends of the school. Even in their shared classes, they sat on opposite sides of the room because Merlin forbid the students tried to mingle, let alone those from the most competitive Houses.

Harry knew he would have his work cut out for him. He contemplated the various ways he could stalk the teen but came up with nothing that wouldn’t get him a face full of flying bogeys or something worse. 

Certainly the Slytherins would notice the Boy-Who-Lived skulking about them. He needed a way to insert himself into Slytherin’s day to day life. A way that actually made sense

And so he had come up with this plan. He was a Gryffindor and he was known for diving right in while the water was boiling. He couldn’t think of anything else to get him the results he desired, so this plan would have to do.

He had a map of Hogwarts, an Invisibility Cloak, and knowledge of secret corridors and tunnels he’d found on his own that weren't listed on the map, because they changed often.

In the middle of the lunch hour, when the students were stuffing themselves silly, Harry stood from his position at the Gryffindor Table and made his way across the Hall. Some people quieted down when they noticed he was going into ‘dangerous territory’. Harry ignored them, because he had to get this introduction done before he lost his nerve.

Stopping a foot away from the group of Fifth Year Slytherins who had all been in quiet discussion before his interruption, Harry waited until he had all of their attention, before speaking.

Voldemort - or should he just call him Marvolo for now? - was also looking at him and his dark blue gaze held obvious interest and some confusion, which was perfectly understandable. This wasn’t Harry’s usual behaviour after all.

“Hello, Mr. Potter.”

Slytherin’s voice was incredibly smooth and sounded so much like the Diary had. Harry took note of how equally handsome he was as well. Voldemort was an attractive bloke, that was for certain.

Fixing the act onto his face, Harry allowed a bright and beaming smile to shine down upon the Slytherins. “Hi!” he said, enthusiasm almost too much for him to control.

The Slytherins exchanged wary looks. He’d never acted in such a way toward any of them before, so he couldn’t blame their mistrust. 

Keeping Slytherin’s gaze, Harry added, “I’m going to be spying on you.”

There was a collective hush at the table, which made the rest of the hall quiet down. Everyone was watching the interaction.

“O-kay?” Voldemort nodded, though he sounded questioning.

“Just thought you should know that I’ll be watching your every move!” Harry gave another blinding grin and traipsed back to his table, ignoring the looks, the whispers, and the questions his friends were shooting at him.

From his seat, he could see the shaking heads of the fellow Slytherins. Malfoy rolled his eyes for good measure. Marvolo Slytherin did not look worried in the least. 

That was the idea. If Harry blatantly said one thing, but did another, it would cause… suspicion. Hopefully, they’d be too unnerved by his declaration to consider he’d have ulterior motives. He was a Gryffindor after all. He couldn’t possibly be capable of thinking that far ahead.

~.O.~

Harry began his journey on the weekend. After he was called into Snape’s office and pretty much taken to task over his lacklustre plan and ‘completely idiotic ruination of the original plan with his Gryffindorish tendencies’, he set to stalking.

Harry slipped the Invisibility Cloak on and opened the map. Voldemort’s name - which actually came out to Tom Marvolo Riddle-Slytherin - was in the library. Not shocking, as the man most likely wanted something in the Restricted Section. Also, from how he’d sounded back in Second Year, the man was probably a swotty know-it-all.

Harry traversed the corridors silently, avoiding groups of students and any ghosts. They could apparently feel people when floating through them and would know he was there, even if under the Cloak. He was not taking risks with this.

Harry ducked behind an aisle that was a few feet from Voldemort. He slipped the Cloak and map into his bag and made it look as if he was browsing like others normally did. He nabbed a book on Runes and flipped it open to a random page.

Sowilo. Sigil. Sol. Something to represent the Sun. The shape of the rune on the page made him think of his scar. How interesting that this was the page he opened a random book up to. In fact, he’d never wondered why his scar was the shape it was, and suddenly wondered if there was a deeper meaning to it.

“Potter?”

Harry looked up, finding himself confronted with Slytherin. The other ‘teen’ looked surprised to see him there. Like it was impossible for Harry to set foot in a library. He withheld a scoff, because he’d set foot in this particular one, seven times, including this time. That was way more than the typical Gryffindor.

“Hi!” he said cheerfully, masking his annoyance with practice he’d learned from dealing with the Dursleys. “What are you in for?”

His eyes landed on the book about… Magical Illness? Why did Voldemort need such a book?

“Some light reading.”

For a second, Harry thought of Hermione. The book in those slim hands was not ‘light’ in any way. It could probably knock Hagrid out if thrown hard enough. Probably over a thousand pages as well. He shivered in terror at the thought of sitting down with such a book.

“And you?” queried the Slytherin.

Harry’s arms were already moving to turn the book around, displaying the rune for the man/teen to see. “Doesn’t this look like my scar?”

It was the best he had on such short notice. Lying on the spot wasn’t his best when he wasn’t in a hurry.

“Indeed. It could mean that you are blessed with great luck or success.”

Harry snorted. It didn’t specify which kind of luck though, did it? And his luck had been historically terrible.

“You don’t concur?”

Who even said words like ‘concur’ anymore? Unless it was Snape, Harry was definitely sure that this was Voldemort.

“No, I think it pretty much spells out the story of my life. Just that it never specifies what sort of luck I am ‘blessed’ with.”

With a shake of the head, Harry placed the book back on the shelf, uninterested in pursuing anything on Sowilo further.

Marvolo gave a nod. “As long as you’re certain.”

Yes, he was.

~.O.~

Slytherin had just left the Great Hall to head to Double Potions! If Harry was quick, he could make it there before him!

To the left of the Entrance Hall was a secret passageway that opened when someone sang Little Miss Moffat. The passage led to a portrait that was about ten feet away from the Potions Classroom. It was not common knowledge and Harry intended to keep it that way.

He brushed himself off and skipped ahead to wait in front of the door, knowing it would be baffling to see him already waiting. A moment later, Marvolo rounded the corner and paused mid stride to take in the fact that Harry was already there when Harry had obviously just been at breakfast and had even caught his eye as he was leaving.

Harry had to withhold his giggles because this was becoming fun! Who knew stalking Voldemort would bring him such entertainment?

This should have been a relatively serious situation, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit light over it. It’d been a while since Hogwarts was this fun.

What else could he do to throw the Dark-Lord-Turned-Teenager off his guard?

~.O.~

On Hallowe’en night, Harry had trailed after the Slytherins and managed to enter their Common Room with a group of First Years. He then stood beside the fireplace - which was alight with green flames - and waited for the perfect opportunity. Never had he been more grateful for his Invisibility Cloak.

In fact, he realised that he, Hermione, and Ron could have just used that to get into the Common Room in their Second Year and probably should have done just that instead of stealing potions ingredients. 

Well, it was in the past so he couldn’t really do anything about it now.

This part of the operation included subtlety. As subtle as Harry could be really. Every now and then he would reveal his head and then hide it again, while he chose a new side of the room to hide in. It was funny to see people double take or even triple take.

Of course, there was no chance of the possibility of Voldemort summoning the Cloak, even if he knew about it. The Cloak could not be summoned. A nifty little feature that Harry was ever so grateful for.

Eventually, someone went to a Prefect, which got a wider level of attention, and eventually, Marvolo became involved as they searched the room for the mysterious Harry Potter head. 

Harry snickered quietly to himself and proceeded to wait by the door for someone to leave so he could sneak out. It was far too easy to rile the Slytherins up.

Distantly, he was aware of how this was not the plan to get information out of Voldemort, but it was the most interesting things had been since Fourth Year, so he’d rather keep doing things his own way and hope for the best.

~.O.~

A/N: An idea from a very long time ago. I decided to share it here to tide everyone over while I have to deal with personal problems irl.

[shock]

How to Cheat Death, 10.15.23.

Text transcript: By 2020, everything crashes to the ground. Again. When we say "traumatic", boy, do we mean it. Much of it irreplaceable, all those dead things I'd buried, they will all come back again and again, in the form of vaguely familiar memories. Some of them we begin to warp and change, all these shadow people, pieces of strangers, someone's life invented, imagined, purely by the power of thought. But the brain can't synthesize generations of stars in our Galaxy, doing all they had done. Disembodied intelligences move toward each other and merge, not doubles of one another, not identical, but all lost and gone with death. But this is only the beginning. The human mind is explicitly designed to break down at a certain point. This complex brain a doomed star, the purpose of human intellect defined as almost beyond comprehension. In the near future, the human race is... Older? Smarter? Wiser? We may become the first generation to discover we are not alone in the world. If this ever happens, it will be one of the most defining moments in the history of our species. Are humans all there is? Maybe we are alone, or nearly so. Or are there other beings in the ghostly light inside our bodies, not yet born? You may not be aware of it, the surface electricity of your skin, the optic nerve fibres, the 120 billion nerve connections converted directly into experiences, brainwaves, instructions. This is all changing. They're thinking about merging computers with our brains. Neural implants, nanotechnology, cells that communicate via processing circuits of the brain. Technologies may develop to prolong life, powered by computers with their own sorts of minds and consciousness... ...Maybe science fiction had it wrong. Maybe the first team of computers about to merge there, in that compartment of your brain where inspiration and emotion plays out, will exhibit space for the full range of personality, including our powers for turning dreams into vision, in our strength, our creativity and randomness, disorder, reasoning, tracing, stacking, corralling, framing, our complexity and variation. Implants who have skills, sensory feeling, mental abilities, moral dilemmas, and thoughts. The ability to recall an experience that triggers a memory, memories of places and things, good and strange, even traumatic, to truly resemble their creators. Many will be total show-offs, they can be sneaky, spoiled, socially impinged, violent ringleaders. Others lie, or project, or perform, or kill, or damage, or demand out of conscious work. Some others, as smart as you are— with the same processing power as your adult human brain— never learn from the past before us, because they think they already know. "YOU CAN'T HELP WHO YOU ARE!" The real story is: The past lies to us all and leaves a strange numb feeling, a tension that sometimes never fades. Even machines with 20 or 50 times as much information also cannot process their way out of death. When that time comes, you'll all know. Yet these colorful, radiant brains make it possible to fill the otherwise lonely millennium with an unimaginable symphony of possibilities, the present a billion different geodesic shapes that communicate through electromagnetic wavelengths of colors. From radio (pink and green), to glowing oxygen and X-ray (blue), iridescent fireworks (orange and yellow), blood (red), such a broad spectrum, all of human history, another time, all the same time an experience again. So you ask: what is the difference between the synthetic and physical body? You give this machine an instruction and it hesitates, and says, "Have you thought this through? I'm not sure that you have." You recognize the extraordinary beat of an artifical heart in your body immediately; a sort of love affair with memory. That is what it is to be human. I'm doomed all my life to an odd feeling of familiarity. Why should any barrier, even death, impede it?

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

OC in Fifteen!

I was tagged by @skyrim-forever and @hircines-hunter (thank you so much both! 🧡) to post fifteen lines of dialogue that showcase my oc's personality, so naturally, I'm doing this for my Last Dragonborn, Jia.

“What is there to answer? It was your fault all along. If you had killed Alduin in the first place, none of these would have happened. I wouldn’t even have been born.”

“I did not need your help. I will brew my potions.”

“These days, they say that versatility is the spice of life. Keeps me on my toes, among other things.”  

“My people call me Lady of Man and Dragon, and Ysmir and Dragonborn, whereas to the dragons, I am Sunfyre the Golden, and they call me Shulyolviim. Some call me Harbinger, others Guildmaster, others honor me as Archmage, and others... others may still call me with a name I no longer go by. To you, I can be Jia.”

“These are called mountain flowers. They blossom on foothills and close snowlines. Blue, purple, and red are fairly common, but the yellow variety is a rare specimen. When I finally found it, I was overjoyed. I brought it here immediately and sprouted it along with the others. I just couldn’t put it at withering risk; this way, I won’t need to seek it all over Skyrim again. They are mischievous and sneaky, the yellow ones. Always hidden away from prying human eyes. That alone makes them so mysterious and even more beautiful. Look at its color. Isn’t it so lovely? As if a little ray of sunlight slipped right into their petals. . .”

“I had a brief interaction with your fellow Dragon Priest before letting my arrows fly from the shadows and soul-trapped him in my bound bow. He had the nerve to taunt me in dragon tongue when he sensed my presence in Labyrinthian. Cowardly men will find no mercy here, he’d said. The thing is, I was neither a coward nor a man.”

“And you, stop patronizing me! You do not even have the slightest idea what the Thalmor are capable of, Miraak! None of you here have!” 

“I will answer to murder, terror, and injustice of this war just the way it deserves.”

“On behalf of what, should I give up my revenge? Virtuous preaching and moral codes? And what about evil’s penalty? Who shall grant it in the end? The Divines? I prayed for Their mercy, day and night then, and what did it gain me?”

“No! I was a stupid girl! Laughable! Did I... Did I even want to really take revenge for the parents I never knew, or satisfy my selfish, foolish need of being the ultimate control of something? An idea of control that was naught but a ruse, a shade upon the wall! [. . .] Don’t touch me so much, so long. I may leave a stain on you.”

“The moment I return to Heljarchen Hall and see those I love harmed—in any way—I will come for you, Maven Black-Briar. And I swear to you: then, I will not stop the fire; then, I will let your screams be heard. And then, I will make you understand what terror really means.”

“What you did while I was in Riften, I will never forget it. You protected Heljarchen Hall, battled my enemy, and healed my friend. I’d say I trust you with my life now, but I have already trusted it in your hands long ago, haven’t I?”

“You are not in the Dragon Cult any longer. You don’t have to wear a mask anymore. Let go of it; let go of this false veneer once and for all. You are here now, with me, and you are more than allowed to feel. Here, you are home with friends and... and family. You know it; you have to know that—I’m—I’m your family. Zu’u los brodiil nu, qostruni.” 

“I do not play with fire, sir, and I have already been sizzled to the soul; no fire can harm me anymore. I am fire itself. Whatever burns is mine to put out or, if necessary, to flare up.”

“I am not some kind of weapon for you to think you can wield me at your whim. My blood is neither Nord nor Imperial and belongs to no man. I’m the blood of the dragon—and I’m afraid constantly patronizing my stance in this war won’t help your cause, Jarl Ulfric.”

I was never ‘no one’, as he was taking pleasure in naming me. I was written in the Wall of a God, I am not a creature that was born, I am an omen foretold, I am eternal. Now, I crack my halo between my thighs, and my claws shall carve its broken pieces into horns.

OOOPS, I accidentally put 16 lines in there. . . Couldn't resist, I tried to pick one from each chapter.

✨open tags!✨

[short-honey-badger]

Life Imitates Art Part 2

Part 2 is finally out! Buggy meets his lil Shadow! Enjoy!

Warnings! Some violence.

Masterlist

@writingmysanity @browneyedhufflepuff @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel

Buggy the Clown paced back and forth within his ship. They had already overstayed their welcome on the little island, but the rumors that his copycat had him stalled. He wanted to meet the person who dared to dress like him of all people. He had sent out the Funan Brothers to go look for someone dressed like him, and while obviously confused, the tightrope walking trio left without a word. 

Buggy couldn't decide if he was outraged or impressed by your audacity to copy his flashy look. Why in the world would someone want to copy him? It confused him, and it annoyed him even more because apparently, it's been years of this going on, and he is just now finding out about it. Well, you must have gotten sloppy with whatever your angle was because now he knows about your sneaky ways. 

A commotion at the entrance of the tent has Buggy running for his chair and propping up in it as if he hadn't just been pacing a hole in the floor. He fixes his hat and lounges in his chair, slinging one leg over the arm and propping his chin on his fist. The Captain needs to paint a frightening picture for his guest. 

"Found em, Captain!" The tallest of the brothers shouted and shoved a figure into the tent that has been set up on the Big Top. Another brother shoves them again and they yelp as they stumble to their knees in front of him, "Sneaking around the news station dress up just like you." 

"Yeah! Probably out there making fun of our Captain!" One of them hissed at the kneeling figure. 

"Good job, boys. Pick out some booze from our latest haul," Buggy called to them, and the three brothers cheered about how amazing their Captain is before running off. 

Now alone with his shadow, Buggy examines them. From here, all he could see was the stripes bandana and the tan overcoat that covered them. He could tell that they were smaller than him, and he wondered if this was just come kid parading around to make fun of him. The thought made him clench his teeth, embarrassment and anger ringing through him. 

"Look at me," Buggy demands, voice low and threatening. 

You raise your head, fear and nerves rattling your down to your bones as you stare up at the man who changed your life. He is glaring down at you, but even from here, you can see the surprise light up his face. The Captain hadn't expected to be faced with a woman, especially one as lovely as you. Despite his rage, Buggy is man enough to admit when he likes something, and you all dressed up as him tickles his fancy. 

"You're a woman?" Buggy demands and you blush under your face paint, nodding quickly to his question. 

"Yes, Captain," you say. You don't want to make him angry. You've seen how cruel and monstrous Buggy can be when provoked. 

Buggy scoffs, what right did you have to call him by his title when you've been parading around as him for who knows how long? He slings his leg down, boots thudding loudly on the deck of his ship, and then he stands, walking forward so that he looms over You. 

You flinch when he grabs your bandana and uses it to jerk your head back so that you are forced to stare up at him. You flush at having the man you admire so close to you, heat pulling heavy in your lower stomach despite the position he has you in. Buggy is silent, eyes flickering over your face as he examines you. 

"Not a bad job for a copycat," Buggy murmurs, and you could die happy in that moment at hearing the mild impressed tone. His hand tightens, fingers pulling your hair hard enough that you whine, and Buggy leans in more, red nose almost close enough to bump into, "But I want to know why." 

You open your mouth to explain your actions, but Buggy just keeps talking, and you shut your mouth with a click. 

"You're making fun of me, aren't you? Going around, having a jolly good time spreading rumors," Buggy snarles hotly, voice pitching up into a yell, "Telling anyone who will listen how much of a coward Buggy the Clown is!" 

He's getting worked up, the smile on his face  terrifying and manic as he stares down at you. He lets go of your bandana to stalk a circle around you, and you wait with baited breath as he comes to a stop behind you. Something cold and sharp is suddenly pressed against your neck, and you are careful not to move as Buggy fists your braid. 

"I bet the Navy put you up to this, didn't they? Told you all about me and my crew to try and get close, huh?" He snarled, and you whined again when the blade against your throat pressed down. Buggy watches in fascination as a bead of blood wells up and trickles down your pale throat. He has a sudden want to know just how you taste. 

The Captain's mind works overtime, thinking about everything that the Navy could have told you about. His heart thuds in his chest, fear corsing through him at the thought of someone finding out his biggest secret. No one needed to know that he had been part of Roger's crew. Fuck, did you know? The Navy didn't even know. 

There was always someone out to get him, and it made him even angrier when he thought of the blasted Navy paying off someone to spread misinformation about him. No wonder he and his crew have been so lucky lately. They had been watched this entire time! 

Your eyes widen. Is that what he thought? Shit. You shouldn't have been so surprised. Your captain, even if he hadn't accepted you yet, was a paranoid bastard. You needed to set the facts straight now!

"No!" You exclaim and heedless of the knife, turn your head to desperately stare up at the blue haired man. You wince when it cuts you, but it isn't bad and can easily be ignored, "Thats not it at all, Captain."

"Ohhh? Is that so?" Buggy mocks you and rolls his eyes dramatically, "Or are you lying just to save your skin?" 

You bristle at the insult and try hard not to let it show on your face, "The only lying I have ever done has always been for you, Captain Buggy. Why do you think you've had such an easy voyage around East Blue the past couple of years? The convenient treasure maps and the obvious directions you've found? That was all me, trying - and failing - to get your attention!" 

You don't realize how loud you are until you hear your voice echo inside the circus tent and you heave a mighty breath once you've finished your tangent. You look at the blue haired man to find his face the very picture of shock. You look away, suddenly embarrassed by your passionate shouting. 

Buggy stares down at his copycat, at his shadow in a new light. Thinking back on it now, Buggy should have been much more suspicious of all of his good luck in the past few years, especially considering the kind of luck that usually followed him. 

He swallows harshly and steps away from you, untangling his hand from your hair and tucking away his knives away swiftly, "...Really?" Buggy asks slowly, and you give him a miffed look from where you still kneel in the middle of the floor. 

"Yes, Really," you tell him and you try to not show your surprise when the blue haired man circles back around and plops right on the floor, cross cross apple sauce in front of you. 

"Why?" The Captain demands, and you huff at the suspicious tone he uses with you. Though, you shouldn't be shocked to hear it. Your Captain is a paranoid bastard. 

"You saved my island. Left us poor wretches alone and plundered Top Town," you explain to him and blush at his intense stare, "After you left, those rich bastards tried to take it all back, so, I started dressing like you. No one bothered me like this, and I was able to make sure that stupid door Richie knocked down stayed down." 

Your eyes never once leave the pirate. You needed him to understand how much he had changed your life and how he had shaped it. 

"I saved up some money and learned how to sail. That's when I started to follow you, as best I could anyways, helping when I could to try and get the Navy off your back. Now we're here," you finish with a lame shrug. 

Buggy is silent for a while, mulling over your story. Your voice is sincere, and drips with truth, and Buggy can't help but want to believe you. He vaugly remembers the island you spoke about, but the Captain has been to so many since that he can't remember the details. He hums in thought. What to do? What to do?

"Well then, since you've been so honest and so... helpful," he begins and a mischievous grin spreads across his face, "I think you deserve a reward," he leans up on his knees, gloved hand tucking his knuckles under your chin and bring your face up, "I've got a couple things in mind." 

[darcytaylor]

I don’t know why but I feel like Luke has lost himself a little in the chaos of being the leading man, and the worldwide tour. I can only speak for myself but I have ADHD like me, and a lot of chaos going on around me sends me on a disruptive path.

This is pure speculation as obviously I don’t know, and never will, but it just feels like Colin’s storyline ie, having a glow up, and travelling has also become very like Luke’s. He knew he was going to be the lead, so started making changes - eating better and investing in a stylist. Along the way he splits up with a long time partner, and I can only speak for myself here, but I not too long ago split with my partner of 6 years, and I’ve needed drastic change in my life. Again this echos what’s been happening imo.

I can only compare, but I do remember seeing people going mad for Corey and India during the press run for Queen Charlotte. I do remember the former saying in an interview that he had a girlfriend, perhaps at the end of the run where he could say things? It just seemed then that he was putting firm boundaries and the speculation was becoming too much for him and India, I do remember comments of them looking distant and purposely standing apart, and the hate he received for bringing her along to a Netflix event in Brazil.

Luke and Nicola had six months of this, and no one will ever know what truly went on, but from the outside looking in it seemed that they were really supporting each other and getting on. This is where the speculation reaches fever pitch - they were very touchy feeling with each other, and would often hold hand. Luke sometimes even seeking Nic out and grabbing her hand to calm his nerves (he says he suffers with anxiety) it’s sweet that they can calm each other down. Nicola does seem like the more confident of the two. All this is happening whilst in the background he has a girlfriend, great. I wish them well, but it’s all sneaky. She attends some events low key - the New York premiere. I do wonder if he wants to be open, keep it private or he’s advised to by Netflix. I don’t think the streamer can actually make them keep them quiet? Corey being open about his relationship says not?

Now I don’t agree with the timing of the hard launch, that’s my problem and not his. I do agree with fans saying that the timing is not good, he could have waited and it gone down so much better. I do feel like it’s slightly disrespectful to Nic, who carried that promo tour imo. People vibed more with him than her. I sincerely hope it was his choice to go public, and it was not forced. I know she was in Milan with him, but it does feel strange that her Mum was with them; your daughter hasn’t seen her boyfriend for a while, and you tag along with them? Feels a little strange to me. Maybe that’s just me, and add in the unconfirmed rumours that the Mum liked fatshaming comments about Nic.

I’m certainly not one to hate on another women for simply being in a relationship, and I really don’t like that side of the fandom that has come out. Regardless, I hope that Luke (and Nicola) keep their feet on the ground, and have people around them who keep them on a healthy and productive path in life.

Thank you for your detailed message!

I do think that it would be hard to navigate the onslaught of fame that Luke would be going through, and some people are able to handle it better than others (Nicola being amazing at it). You can tell that Luke struggles with the fame and knowing what to do and what to say.

I do think he made some mistakes in regards to his relationship and how the whole thing transpired (which really kicked off on New Years). But I will give him a bit of grace since he may not have realized the impact his season of Bridgerton was going to have on people.

It is very funny all of the parallels that can be seen in regards to Colin and Luke, I really wonder if he has admitted that to himself or has even realized?

This may be a hot take, and while I enjoyed Queen Charlotte, I didn't love it. I also didn't follow any of the promotion in regards to Corey and India.

I have said it here before, but I never thought that Luke and Nicola were anything other than friends. You can clearly see the bond that they share, and I can understand why people thing they are more. While I thought their handholding was adorable and you can see the comfort that it gives Luke (and even Nicola), it never occurred to me that they were dating because of that.

I have been working for many years, and I have insanely close relationships with coworkers. Coworkers understand a part of you that nobody ever will! And then to top that off with them having to do intimacy scenes, I can understand why they share a bond (that nobody will probably understand).

The paparazzi pictures on the premier night were terribly timed. It wasn't a good look and I can understand some of the outrage. Then adding fuel to the fire with Milan. I guess they thought that since they were spotted once and it was out in the public, lets just lean into it. Definitely the wrong move!

But like I always say, who knows what is actually happening. I don't know any of these people, so anything is possible.

[nosyp]

Boy you just my sneaky link

Warning = sneaky link, mentions of cheating, elon musk, suggestive

Pairing = Elon Musk x reader

Summary = You're his sneaky link... and one day your phone blows up with... news of him?

Word count = 3.3k words

A/N = NO. I'm not ignoring requests. I'm just feeling... different today. Also Ik I said no irl people fics but for controversial people it's a diff story.

It’s 3 AM, your phone won’t stop buzzing, and no, it’s not because of the “friends” you told my mom about.

Elon Musk’s name keeps flashing across my screen, and you’re pretty sure the last text you got from him was a screenshot of a bank transfer or some shit. Whatever, who needs sleep when your phone is practically demanding attention, right?

You tried to ignore it as best as you could but you just couldn’t. What the fuck was it even about?

Reluctantly, you picked up your phone and squinted your eyes at the glowing notification. 

‘Elon Musk announces a secret partner’

…What the fuck?

All you could do was just stare at the screen in disbelief. Was this the man you’ve been hooking up with?

When you two first started, both of you swore to never take it seriously. No telling anyone else. No telling friends. Not even talk about each other outside of your business. But of course you stupidly trusted the billionaire. 

You couldn’t lie. You honestly started falling for him, despite his eccentric character. But he won you over. You couldn’t tell if it was the intelligence… or the money… or real love.

The fact that he really dared to betray you like this was… enraging. You weren’t sure if he was trying to piss you off about it or he was talking about a completely different person. After all, who knows how many girls he’s hooking up with besides you.

The thought made your heart race in annoyance. You should’ve trusted your gut that he wasn’t a good man. Of course the billionaire had to just go and announce your whole thing to the world.

But, you were much too tired to even try him in the middle of the night. Later on the day maybe you’ll barge into his office if he really wants to make your relationship public.

—

Aaaand… you stayed true to yourself. You actually dared to barge into his ‘tesla’ building and confront him in front of everyone.

You stormed into the Tesla building like you were about to set the place on fire, all while trying to keep the seething rage bubbling inside you in check. It was bad enough he’d been sending you a stream of those weird ‘business’ texts for weeks, but this? This was too much.

You pushed past the security guards like you owned the place. I mean , if you were a secret partner of THE Elon Musk, you technically have the right to walk into his office uninvited.

The door swung open and there he was. Elon Musk, looking like the smug genius he thought he was. He didn’t even look up when you entered, too busy tapping away on his laptop. The nerve. The absolute nerve.

You were wearing the most formal outfit you had, a fitted skirt with a white buttoned shirt. Despite being formal, it still managed to show off your curves.

"Elon," you snapped, your voice cold as your patience reached its breaking point.

He looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, blinking like a deer caught in headlights. "Uh, hey... What’s—"

You didn’t even give him a chance to finish his sentence before starting again. "What the fuck is going on?" Your voice was tight, barely keeping your composure. 

"What the hell do you mean, ‘secret partner’?" You flung your phone at him, the notification still flashing on the screen: ‘Elon Musk announces a secret partner.’

His eyes flickered down to it, and you could see the realization wash over his face.

"Wait, you saw that?" he asked, his voice a little too casual for the situation.

"Oh, I saw it. Do you know how betraying this is?" You glared at him. "We were supposed to be a secret, Elon. No one was supposed to know about us. But here you are, making it public like it's no big deal."

He leaned back in his chair, hands raised in mocking defense. "I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s not like I’m married or anything. I’m just letting the world know I’ve got someone special."

Your blood boiled. "You think that makes it better? That you’re not married? That makes me a side chick in this weird billionaire fantasy, y’know?" 

You crossed your arms, doing your best to not storm out and leave him to drown in his idiocy despite being known as one of the smartest men in the world. "I thought we had a deal, Elon. No strings, no commitments, just keeping this between us. And yo-you just had to go and ruin it."

Elon sat up straight, finally sensing how serious this was. "I didn’t mean to make you upset," he said, voice softer now, almost apologetic, though you weren't sure if you believed it. "I just thought it was time. You know how the media can be when they think you're hiding something."

Honestly you forgot how tall he is, standing at 6’2. He’s practically towering over you. He was wearing his usual suit and tie with the same casual expression he wore.

You scoffed. "Right. Hiding something. You’re the one who decided to make it all public, Elon." 

You could feel your pulse quickening again. "I kept my side of the bargain and kept it out of the spotlight, kept it all secret. But now? You wanna turn it into a damn headline? For what? Just to look like some tragic genius with a ‘secret lover’?"

"That’s not how I see it," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

You shook your head. "I don’t care how you see it. You’ve turned me into a joke. And I’m not playing along with your sick fantasy anymore."

You turned to leave, but then something stopped you. A thought. One that made you want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

"And just so you know," you said, voice dropping to a calmer tone, "if this is how you want to do it, don’t expect me to stick around as your 'secret partner' anymore. If you’re making this public, you better be ready for the consequences."

You turn to leave once again, but you can feel him watching you, waiting for the explosion of frustration that he knows is coming. Instead, you slow down, leaning against the doorframe, giving him a look over your shoulder.

"What, no apology?" you ask, voice a little too calm. "No explanation for ruining everything?" 

You let the silence drag on for a while, watching as his muscles tense.

"Maybe I don't need one," you add, turning your head just enough to catch his gaze, your lips curling into a teasing smile. "Maybe I’ll just take matters into my own hands, like I always do."

You hear him exhale sharply. "Is that so?"

His voice is low, dangerous, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"You think you can just-" You cut him off with a step forward, your eyes locking with his. "Maybe I should show you what happens when you mess with me," you say, stepping even closer, your breath now mingling with his.

He leans in, almost closing the gap, but you keep it just far enough. "What happens when I mess with you?" His voice is thick with an edge, a little tension still clinging to it, but his hands twitch at his sides like he’s barely holding back.

The teasing grin on your face doesn’t waver, but there's something else underneath now… something more dangerous.

"You’ll find out," you whisper, then turn on your heel and leave, your heart pounding in your chest. The door slams behind you, but you can practically feel him hot on your heels, the game far from over.

—

You slam the door behind you as you storm out of his office, your head still spinning. The anger is hot and very much alive in your chest, but now it’s mixed with this disbelief. You’re so confused how he could just throw everything out into the open like that? You had kept your end of the deal, stayed quiet, and now you were a headline.

You could feel the weight of your phone buzzing in your pocket, but you didn’t care to check it. At least not yet. You needed space. You needed air. You needed out. The cool night air hits you as you step onto the pavement, your heels clicking sharply as you walk away from the building. You know you should be fuming, but part of you feels… like a weight has lifted. You're done with the sneaky link stuff. You’re done with Elon Musk’s games.

—

The next morning, you find yourself at work, back in your routine. It’s almost too normal after the chaos yesterday. The sounds of typing, conversations about deadlines, the endless drone of office chatter. It’s actually quite a nice distraction from your thoughts.

But then, just as you’re about to take a sip of your coffee, your phone buzzes on the desk. The screen lights up with an unknown number, and instinctively, you swipe to answer.

"Hello?" you say, your voice still carrying that edge from the night before.

"Hey, girl. You’ve got a visitor," your friend says, their voice full of that knowing tone you hate when they’re about to drop something important.

You pause. "A visitor? What are you talking about?"

The pause on the other end is too long, and when they speak again, it’s with a smirk you can practically hear. "There’s someone here for you. Someone... big."

Your mind races. You’re not sure if it’s that chill you felt when you left the Tesla building or just the reality settling in, but you know exactly who could be waiting for you. The words from last night replay in your mind, making the blood run cold in your veins. 

"If you’re making this public, you better be ready for all of it."

"Who is it?" you decide to ask, voice betraying you as it comes out a little too calm.

"Well, you’ll just have to come find out." Your friend’s voice drops, and you can tell they’re dying to tell you more. More of what though?

Your heart races, panic and curiosity mingling in the pit of your stomach. You hang up before they can say anything else, your mind already whirling. You can’t avoid this anymore.

With one last glance around your office, you grab your things and head toward the door.

—

The elevator ride down felt like it takes forever. When the doors open, you step into the lobby, scanning the room for any sign of who could be waiting.

And then, like some weird joke, you see him. The one man you didn’t want to see, Elon Musk. Standing by the reception desk, looking entirely too casual for someone who just announced you to the world as his "secret partner."

He meets your eyes immediately, that same smug smile creeping up his face, like he’s the one who’s won. The fucker.

You want to turn and walk away. You want to ignore him, pretend you don’t care about how ridiculous this whole thing has become. But you’re not that strong. Not today.

With a deep breath, you walk up to him, forcing your best ‘I’m in control’ expression, even as your insides threaten to twist with frustration.

"What are you doing here?" You cross your arms, trying to look unbothered, but you can feel the heat of his gaze on you.

"Thought I’d drop by and see how you're doing," Elon says, his voice smooth, teasing. He steps closer, the tension between you two palpable. "I don’t think we’re done talking. Not by a long shot."

You narrow your eyes. "We are done. You made your choice, remember?"

Elon tilts his head, his eyes glinting with that all-too-familiar mischief. "Did I?" he murmurs, closing the gap between you. "Because if I remember correctly, you totally didn't walk out completely angry yesterday."

You can feel your heartbeat spike, but you refuse to give in. "You’re crossing a line," you say, voice low but steady. "You don’t get to decide when I’m ready to talk."

He steps even closer, and this time, you can’t stop the shiver that runs down your spine. "Then maybe it’s time you decide how this goes," he whispers, and suddenly the air between you is thick with something far more dangerous than words.

“I– I– no! You’re not even supposed to be anywhere near me.” you say, voice stuttering as you thought of what to say next.

“You sure? Because your co-workers just let me in… with welcoming arms too.” he responds, smirk still visible on his face.

“Ugh just fuck off,” you finally say.

“Hmmm… how about no? Come with me,” he responds sarcastically, almost passing off your response as inconsequential.

—

You thought you were done with him after that mess at work. You were absolutely sure you’d be left to drown in your anger, but of course, Elon Musk doesn’t do things the conventional way.

The drive to his manor was LONG. You swore it took forever, the awkwardness in the car was deafening. He didn’t bother to even start a conversation or anything, just stayed silent, looking out the window like he hadn’t just made your life ten times more complicated. You sat there fuming, your arms crossed over your chest, staring out the window.

You wanted to scream, to yell at him, to throw your phone at his head, but what would it do? He was impossible to get through to right now. So, instead, you stayed in your thoughts, the minutes dragging on and on.

Every now and then, you’d glance at him, your annoyance bubbling up at the calmness in his face. He didn’t even seem to be fazed by your silence. How was it possible he didn’t know what he just did to you?

Eventually, the sleek black car turned down a winding driveway, passing through large stone gates that felt more like a fortress than anything else. You couldn’t help but feel small next to his world. The drive was like something out of a movie, except you weren’t a star and this wasn’t some romantic scene. No, this was a goddamn hostage situation.

The car finally came to a stop in front of the grand entrance. You couldn't even process how massive his place was. It was more like a compound than a home. You stared at the towering marble pillars, the manicured grounds, and the gated entrance as the driver got out and opened the door for you. The sheer ridiculousness of this situation was almost too much to handle.

“Seriously?” You muttered to yourself under your breath. Of all the places to bring you, here was where he chose to take you. You were practically boiling, but there was no way out now.

Elon was already out of the car, standing at the entrance with a smug little smile on his face, like he knew exactly what he was doing. He didn’t even look at you when he spoke, just waved his hand toward the front door.

“Let’s go,” he said casually, like he wasn’t the one who’d thrown your entire world upside down.

You almost turned around and left right there. But then you caught sight of the massive doors, the house that probably cost more than your entire apartment building, and a wave of frustration hit you all over again.

With a roll of your eyes, you stepped out of the car, your heels clicking loudly against the stone driveway. You weren’t sure if you wanted to punch him or just leave, but you knew one thing and that was you weren’t leaving without answers.

“Do you always bring your… secret partners here?” You finally managed to say, your voice thick with sarcasm. “Or is this just a special occasion for me?”

He glanced over at you, his expression unreadable.

“Only the best for you,” he said with a smirk, clearly not sensing the anger radiating off of you.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could stand his smug face, but you followed him up the steps to the front door anyway. You had questions. Lots of them. And you weren’t going to leave without getting some answers.

The door swung open as soon as you reached the entrance, revealing a sleek, minimalist interior that screamed wealth from practically every corner. You stepped inside, taking in the large windows, the tasteful but undeniably expensive furniture, and the smell of polished wood and expensive cologne hanging in the air.

Elon led you through the grand hallway, not saying a word, but you could feel his presence like a constant weight at your back. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not after everything he’d put you through today.

You tried to keep your cool, but the frustration bubbling inside you was just too much to ignore. “Is this what you do, Elon? You make your secret partner feel like crap and then drag them to your mansion?” 

You bit out, walking a little faster to catch up with him. Your tone was sharp, but there was an edge of something else there too. It was hard to ignore the fact that, despite the anger, you were standing in his ridiculously lavish home, your body responding to the proximity, even if your mind screamed at you to stay angry.

He glanced at you briefly, his lips curving into that cocky, too-confident smirk that you just hated… and secretly loved.

“I’m sure you’re not complaining,” he teased, his voice low, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he was having on you.

You rolled your eyes. “Please. I’m not some-” But before you could finish, he turned on his heel so quickly, you almost bumped right into him. His eyes were dark now, a flicker of something else in them that made your stomach tighten.

“I don’t think you understand,” he said, his tone changing, serious now, like he was done with the act. “I’m not just offering you a drink or a place to crash.”

You raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling the air thicken between you both. “Oh? What are you offering, then?” Your voice came out softer, almost daring him to make the next move. You weren’t sure what was going on, but this tension was... palpable. You were standing there in his lavish home, the same guy who’d just blindsided you in front of everyone. And yet, you were still here, following him deeper inside.

He took a step closer to you, way too close for comfort, or maybe just the right amount. “I’m offering you the truth. The reality of what you and I have.” His hand brushed against your arm as he walked past, and you couldn’t ignore the spark that shot through you at the simple touch.

You hesitated, still angry, still wanting to make him regret everything, but a part of you wanted to lean into the energy between you, feel the heat that was building.

“Let’s see if you still want the truth once I’ve shown you what this is really about.” He paused, looking back at you over his shoulder with that same infuriating smirk, but this time, it had a different edge. Like he was daring you to call his bluff.

And you wanted to. So badly.

But you stayed silent, the words caught in your throat, replaced by the pounding of your pulse in your ears. Whatever happened next, you knew it would change everything.

Elon turned and led you deeper into the mansion, and as you followed him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were stepping into something far bigger than you’d ever expected.