#the entire family is just full of sass

[all-that-is-gold-is-now-gone]

The Child

The Parents

[idontcaboose]

Luthor's Cricket part 8

Previous. Masterpost

Lex thought he managed to scare off the little spirit, it had been about 5 hours since his rant in the conference room, but Lex could not help but replay the entire interview back in his mind.

He could see by his answers and Lane's rebuttals could make one not of this world think he was an evil man. Not to mention Phantom's... odd relations with other rich and... uncouth men over his apparently short life. He could not fully blame the child for projecting his trauma onto Lex.

Lex ran through his list of the child.

He appears to be somewhere between 13-15 years old. He died young, but there is no telling how long he has been dead, if he was ever alive to begin with. Though Lex doubts the latter.

He knew a rich man that tried to force a familial relationship upon him.

He was not killed from a kidnapping, but who knows if the man was the one who killed him. He copes with humor and sass, like any child his age. But his silent reaction to Lex yelling at him made him think that there was something there that had triggered him. Was he killed by a hero gone rogue?

It was an uncomfortably short list, full of speculation, but expected since he has only interacted with the teen for a day and a half, and most of it had been malicious on both their parts.

Lex sighed and rubbed his eyes, leaning back on his living room couch. He had dealt with his randomly assigned essay partners in college better than this.

“Hey…. Mr. Luther?”

Lex violently startled at the small voice for the doorway to the foyer.

“Yes, Phantom?”

“You are right.”

“What?” Lex asked, confused.

Phantom shuffled into the living room, standing on the other side of the low coffee table. “That should always be something you should worry about. Someone that strong should have plans in place to keep them from hurting other people. After I left, I saw that the person he was fighting was able to mind control him briefly. He did some pretty bad damage before Wonder Woman was able to stop him and arrest the guy.” Phantom rubbed his arms in a self soothing fashion. “After he came to, he tried to jump back into the action. He is reckless in his collateral. I can't speak for if he feels guilty about what he did, but he has been around for a while. He hasn't seemed to be more mindful of those caught up in the fights, just those in the direct line of fire.” The teen sighed. “For the few he rescues, more die from the buildings the rogues and himself break.

I still think how you are going about it is the wrong way, but… I can help you workshop some better stuff.” Phantom asked with a small smile.

Next

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Where the Wild Things Are pop-up event.

i want you to love me like my parrot does, honey

Where the Wild Things Are Pop-Up | Word Count: 3,000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Fade to Black Sex | POV: Eddie | Relationship(s): Steddie, Eddie & Gareth | Tags: Modern AU, Flirty Flirting, Mutual Attraction, Getting Together, Animal Shelter Worker Steve Harrington, Exotic Animal Foster Eddie Munson, Annoyed Roommate Gareth Jones

Also on ao3.

Eddie looks down at the phone in his hand, and turns off the running water in the bathroom sink he'd used to muffle his conversation. If you have to hide it, you're doing something wrong. That's what Uncle Wayne always said. 

But, he's doing it anyway.

Heading towards the door, he casually reaches to get his leather jacket. Maybe Gareth won't notice. Maybe he can slink out of here unnotic—

"Where are you going? Where are you going?" 

Fuck. Jimmy Buffett the goddamn parrot is a misses-nothing tattletale.

Gareth turns, looking, "Hey, Jim's right. Where are you going?"

"Just, you know, out."

"Eddie."

"Google, play Master of Puppets," Jimmy Buffett demands, and the bluetooth speaker fires up. Plays the opening riff, and then Jimmy asks all over again. Head bobbing back and forth the entire time. He only wants the intro, over and over. 

"Great," Gareth says, "just great, Ed. This is a fun loop to be in."

"Hey, we got him over the M-A-R-G-A-R-," he pauses, trailing off.

"No, no, keep going," Gareth goads.

"I-T-A-V-I-L-L-E obsession," Eddie finishes. There's no way in hell he's saying that word out loud. "This is an improvement and you know it."

"Unplugging the damn thing, not giving a bird the option of dictating our lives would be an improvement too, and yet."

"Where are you going?" the grooving parrot asks again, Master of Puppets blaring.

"Good question, Jimmy," Gareth concurs. 

"The shelter."

That lights a fire under Gareth's ass, and he's up off the couch. 

"Eddie, no, we don't have room for anything else!" Gareth snaps, waving his hands around the living room that's already full of cages, aquariums and other various habitats.

"But Steve called," Eddie says, and Gareth huffs out a breath of annoyance. 

"Steve's taking advantage," Gareth insists, and Eddie knows that's not true. It's just not easy to find someone qualified to foster all the weird and exotic animals. "Goodie won't even come over here anymore, you know. Wait. Go ahead. Get something else. Alligator? Komodo Dragon? Anaconda?"

Eddie laughs. Goodie hates to be in the same room as the snakes, but if Eddie covers their habits, Goodie can sometimes pretend they aren't there. Sometimes.

"What are you getting this time?" Gareth asks, and then waves his hands around, "No. Wait. Don't tell me. I'll be surprised."

Oh, and surprised he'll be. 

Mainly because Eddie doesn't even know. Steve just called, said he had something Eddie needed to see, and that was all the info Eddie needed.

Eddie snags Gareth around the neck, shaking him around in a rough thank you hug.

"If Jimmy keeps it up longer than thirty minutes, you can unplug the speakers, okay?"

"How generous," Gareth sasses, but crashes back onto the couch, "I'm really fucking sick of this, you asshole."

He'll live. He always does.

But, well. Eddie can't resist. He pokes his head back in the door, and croons, "Strummin' my six string, on my front porch swing."

Jimmy Buffett squawks and flaps his wings.

"Google, play Margaritaville," he demands, Master of Puppets forgotten. If looks could kill, Eddie'd be dead. Gareth throws up his middle fingers, both of them, before sliding his noise-cancelling headphones over his ears. 

Eddie cackles as he closes the door, leaving Gareth in Margaritaville hell.

When Eddie pulls up at the rescue, Steve's out front with a family, rolling around in the lush, green grass as he's introducing a dog that's wagging the shit out of its tail, thrilled to be out of the dog run. 

Fair enough. Eddie'd be thrilled if he was getting that kind of attention from Steve, too. 

Steve gets animals adopted, and it's pretty cool to watch in action. Dogs, Steve can find homes fairly easily. Same with cats. Eddie swears half the time the adopters are turning up just to see Steve. He features heavily on all their social media, and has an amazing track record for facilitating successful adoptions.

He's an animal whisperer, through and through. So, basically catnip to Eddie.

Unfortunately, he's made the shelter very popular, and as a consequence other animals have been dropped off that are far less easy to adopt out.

Those are the critters that dictate calls to Eddie.

At least they aren't being released into the wild, which is a real goddamn problem. If they end up with Steve, they've got a chance.

Steve sees him, and hands the leash of the overly happy pup over to Robin. Eddie gives her a wave, and then shoves his hands in his pockets as Steve approaches, grinning.

"Hey, man. Thanks for coming," Steve says, slinging his arm around Eddie's shoulders, walking him towards the shelter. "It's been a while."

And it has been a few months. There's no rhyme or reason to when they might get something they can't take care of at the shelter. But when they call, Eddie gets to see Steve and nurse his pathetic crush that's been building over the past two years.

Eddie hates that this is the biggest reason he keeps saying yes. Getting to be near Steve, feeling helpful, and yes, all the friendly touches. He definitely doesn't hate those.

Steve lets go to open the door, and leads Eddie through the maze of the place. Past all the run-of-the-mill animals, to the dungeon. At least, that's what Eddie calls it.

In a too small saltwater tank, is an octopus. 

"Oh hell no," Eddie laughs, "you want me to be the jailer for that brilliant escape artist?"

Steve giggles, "Hence the rocks on the lid. This is Houdini. We know what she can do. Apparently, she kept breaking into all the tanks near her, eating the inhabitants, then slinking back into her own tank like nothing had happened. It was a real aquatic mystery, until they set up a camera and caught her in the act."

Eddie grins, and looks at her, watching her flash, changing colors and then back again, "Smart little asshole. You're resourceful, ain't you, honey?" Eddie asks her, watching as she moves through the water.

"You'll take her?" Steve asks, looking hopeful.

"Of course," Eddie answers, "you'll just have to let me get something set up for her. I have a saltwater tank cycled that'll be big enough, which is lucky. I'm sure you don't want to keep her here for three months. But I'll need to do some shuffling, and reinforcing. They're like cats. Liquids that cannot be contained."

Steve laughs. 

"How old is she?" Eddie asks, because they don't live long, as sad as that is. He wants to be prepared. She's definitely not a long term commitment, not like Irv the tortoise, or Jimmy the parrot or Heqet the African clawed frog. Those are decades long commitments, if the right home never comes along. 

Steve isn't sure, which isn't uncommon for the things that they sometimes just find dropped off on their front step.

At least Houdini has some backstory. That's not always a given.

Gareth comes home, still pissy. Margaritaville isn't playing, so that's a plus. Eddie prepared for this, though. Bribes work on Gareth.

"There's booze in the blender," he teases, at least this time out of Jimmy's earshot.

"Okay, I might forgive you. Show me what you've got first. Direwolf? Slimer? Harry from the Hendersons?"

Eddie laughs, "I don't have her yet. It's an octopus."

"Oh. That's not so bad," Gareth says, salting the rim, then pouring himself a margarita that Eddie was heavy handed with the good tequila in as an apology.

"We have to move Pennywise and pals," Eddie admits, and Gareth groans. He hates fish tank business. 

"We can do it," he reassures, "eat a taco. You'll feel better."

Eddie stopped and picked up the tacos they both like, and they sit and eat, splitting the pitcher of margaritas until they're both tipsy.

"I just," Gareth says, "I don't mind the animals. But women don't want to come here."

Eddie can't be mad at him for telling the truth. He knows. Men don't want to come here either.

"Goodie said I could move in with him," Gareth says, and Eddie feels his stomach drop, "for a price."

"You'll kill each other," Eddie says.

"I know," Gareth answers, "I'm not going anywhere. But this house is a real cockblock."

"Tell me about it," Eddie sighs, "I'm not doing any better."

He knows Gareth knows that, too. But these animals don't have anywhere else to go. He doesn't want them destroyed just because their previous owners didn't take good care of them.

"At least you have Steve," Gareth says, poking at him over his crush.

"I wish," Eddie says. 

He wants Steve, but that's a pipe dream. 

Eddie rolls over, blinking. Trying to reorient. He picks up his phone, and peers at the screen. The security camera notification woke him up. David is sitting on the back patio. Waiting.

So, Eddie crawls out of bed. Throws on a t-shirt over his boxers, sliding on shoes. 

Pulling open the sliding glass door, he asks, "Hey, buddy, where you been? It's been a few days, let me get you some food," Eddie tells the plump raccoon and heads back to the kitchen to make peanut butter sandwiches, and fetch fresh water as well as some other snacks. He isn't technically Eddie's, but he can't stand to see any creature go hungry. 

So, fed he'll be. 

Even if he shows up at three in the goddamn morning.

A few days later Eddie calls to let Steve know his saltwater tank is ready that Gareth nearly killed him for trying to set up the first time. Too much chemistry.

"Want me to deliver her?" Steve asks, and Eddie pauses. Steve wants to come to his house? He's never been to his house before. Eddie comes to him. That's the deal. Nobody wants to come here.

"I mean, if you want, but if you don't have time, I can make my roommate come with me to come get her," Eddie offers.

Steve insists, so Eddie starts to tell him his address, before he realizes Steve knows. It's on every application, every foster agreement he's ever signed.

"But you already know that," Eddie laughs.

"I do," Steve answers, "but it's less creepy this way."

Two hours later, Steve's on his doorstep with Houdini. They start the process to get her drip acclimated into the bigger tank.

"Wow. This is," Steve says, and Eddie can see him looking all over the room and the rest of the sentence goes unsaid. It's a lot to take in. Aquariums, cages, habitats all over the place. Steve had to know. He's the one that keeps calling Eddie to pick up these exotic and hard to place animals. 

"Pretty, pretty," Jimmy Buffett coos, dancing in his cage, looking at Steve.

Well, he's not wrong. Just embarrassing Eddie for fun, undoubtedly. Like an unruly five-year-old.

"C'mere, dingus," he mimics, and Steve tosses back his head and laughs. 

"He sounds just like Robin," Steve says, and approaches her cage, "I can believe you remember me. Hi, Jimmy."

"Hi, Jimmy," the bird mimics back, "Get me a beer."

"No beer. Want a full tour?" Eddie offers Steve. Just as well show him all the crazy. 

And he does, guiding Steve room-to-room.

When he sees the large enclosure in the corner of the spare bedroom, he stops, "Holy shit."

It's kinda crazy. Half water, half land, home to the dwarf caiman Steve though was a baby alligator when it was dumped on their step. 

Eddie couldn't house an alligator. He doesn't have the space, or experience. But a dwarf caiman? Totally doable, after a small construction project that Gareth, Jeff and Goodie bitched about the entire time.

Goodie hates her, but she does like to grumble and hiss, especially at him.

"She's a bitch," Eddie says with affection, but he's sure he's stuck with her for the rest of her life. Which is fine. He wants to find nearly everything that turns up here a good fit for a permanent home, elsewhere. That doesn't always work out. 

Most, if not all of them, were pets somebody got in over their head with. It's sad.

Steve doesn't seem scared, or disgusted, like a lot of people. Not even annoyed, like Gareth. Who honestly rolls with it better than most. He's not scared, at least. Eddie knows this funhouse of creatures is why he's single. Like, he can hookup with a guy here and there, but as soon as they get to the point that he needs to bring him home, shit goes south, quick. Nobody wants to sleep in a room with a frog singing, or watch TV with a chatty beach bum parrot.

He can't have everything, he's chosen this, and that's okay. 

Steve is looking in each enclosure, and then he comes up to one of the enclosures in Eddie's bedroom, peering down inside, "Oh, wow. Hi, there, I don't believe I know you."

Eddie grins, looking down into the tortoise enclosure, "That's Irv. He was my grandpa's. My first experience with reptiles. I inherited him when my Uncle Wayne declined the opportunity to raise another beast," Eddie says with all the affection in the world. Wayne raised him. A tortoise, though? Not for him.

Steve laughs, and Eddie smiles at him.

"How old?" Steve asks.

"Forty-ish?" Eddie answers. Older than Eddie, definitely, but he's not a hundred percent for sure. He's just been able to trace photos back that far, at least.

"Amazing," Steve says, and Eddie's even more smitten. Steve doesn't seem grossed out by anything he's been confronted with so far in this house. Eddie shouldn't be surprised. He knows how much time Steve puts in at the shelter, Eddie just assumed he preferred the fuzzy, domesticated pets. Most people do.

Houdini is ready to be released into the bigger tank, and she immediately inks. It's expected. Eddie skims it out of the water, not wanting her to suffocate, and then secures the heavy lid. Flipping the new latches. She's sure pretty. 

Steve meanders back towards the front door, and Eddie is sorry to see him go.

"Stop by again, if you want to visit. I'm sure Jimmy would be thrilled to lay eyes on you," and if on command, Jimmy gives a wolf whistle. They both laugh, "See?"

Then, Steve steps out onto the front porch, seems to change his mind, and steps back inside, "Okay. If I'm off-base, ignore me," Steve says, and Eddie feels the blood rushing to his cheeks.

No way.

"But. Would you maybe want to go out sometime?" Steve asks, and he looks so shy. Steve's never looked shy.

"Yes," Eddie says, taking a step closer, "fuck. Yes. Of course."

And Steve laughs, seemingly relieved. Eddie can't believe this guy wants to go on a date with him, especially after seeing his little shop of horrors. 

"Thank god," Steve says, "I've felt the vibes. I thought? But I didn't want to scare off my best shelter ally if I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong," Eddie reassures, and Steve smiles, big and bright. Eddie wants to lock this down. "Tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night," Steve agrees.

Drinks, dinner and now Steve's standing in Eddie's bedroom shedding his shirt. 

"Pretty, pretty," Eddie says, mimicking the parrot, and Steve giggles.

Then he drops his jeans, and scoots up Eddie's bed.

Eddie just stares. He's gorgeous, and so fucking confident that Eddie's going crazy. He wants him, he needs him, fuck, maybe he loves him.

He damn well wants to find out if this could be something. Something great, maybe.

So, he pulls his own clothes off, and then crawls on top of Steve, pressing him back into the sheets.

After, they lay shoulder-to-shoulder, Heqet singing a mechanical underwater buzzing sound.

"That's soothing," Steve says, and yeah. Eddie's heart is gone.

Steve bolts upright, startled, and Eddie lays a hand on his back, "Sorry. It's okay. I'll be back. Another animal to feed."

But Steve slides out of bed behind him, and Eddie is so goddamn smitten by this man. 

"What is it?" Steve questions.

"David. My big dirty raccoon," Eddie explains, and doles out the snacky snacks he brought out to the patio.

Steve giggles, quoting, "Eww, David."

And Eddie grins. Exactly. Steve gets the reference, and Eddie's fucking enamored with this man that crawled out of his bed in the middle of the night to watch a raccoon wash his finger sandwiches in water.

Steve hugs him from behind, chin on his shoulder, and Eddie's so goddamn happy.

In the morning, Steve helps him feed and tend to all the different animals.

"Gareth's gonna be jealous," Eddie teases, "he can't find a woman to come back here to feed his snake."

Steve snorts, then makes a thinking face, looking over at Eddie, "You know. I actually know someone at the shelter. Dr. Dawlsen."

"Robin?" Eddie asks.

Steve cackles, making Jimmy squawk, "No. She's a lesbian. And not a vet."

"Oh. That all tracks," Eddie says, and Steve just grins.

Gareth comes out of his room, sees Steve, and rolls his eyes. 

"Hey!" Steve demands, and Gareth looks at him. Steve snaps a couple pictures on his phone. 

"What the fuck was that?" Gareth asks.

"Smile. He thinks he might have a lady doctor to set you up with that wouldn't run screaming from our menagerie."

"Vet, not gyno," Steve clarifies. 

"Don't care. Carry on," Gareth says, preening like he's the fancy bird in the room.

Then, Steve's gotta go, "Well, I had fun. Let's do it again. And again."

Hell fucking yes. 

"You're not gonna run for the hills?" Eddie teases, slinging his arms around Steve's neck, pressing their lips together again.

"Not a chance," Steve answers, nuzzling into Eddie's neck, "I like your wild kingdom. Kindness towards animals? Especially these animals? Such a turn on."

When Steve pulls back, Eddie grins, pulling his hair over his mouth. 

"Tonight?" Steve asks.

And Eddie nods. Tonight. Absolutely.

And if you want to write your own, or see more entries in this pop-up, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to see other entries for the Where the Wild Things Are prompt!

Notes: Title is a play on the lyrics from the Jimmy Buffett song Like My Dog, and obviously his Margaritaville played a role in the fic itself.

[uchihaxitachi]

itachi’s june -> day 5: highschool (soft)!bully itachi hcs

-> a/n: i know we are months after itachi’s birthday month but life happens, okay? 😭 and since i’m not really doing kinktober this year i figured i should just focus on this instead‼️

-> modern au, itachi is a highschooler in his third year. he’s a soft bully cus he’s a gentleman core to the end :3 and i can’t see him going over the top~

bully!itachi is a force to reckon with, especially when he’s also a senior at school. the day you first met him was at the cafeteria, you had just started your highschool journey & thought it should go by without an issue. unless— you watched someone ask a senior out. he looked emotionless, vague & so disrespectfully disinterested. it takes guts to ask someone out publically and his personality made you wonder who he truly is. “uchiha itachi. he’s like the highschool heart throb, most uchihas are. then entire family is like a clan sorta thing- they are like, distant cousins or something.” she indulges your curiosity. your eyes mingled with the dude who was standing, looking down at the girl with pursed lips. “sorry, you know i don’t date moderately attractive women.”

wow; what an asshole — you glared at him at a distance, unaware that it was the exact moment where your eyes meet. itachi had beautiful, but stern looking eyes. dedicated stress likes which in his case only made him prettier. you gulped, as if a thief caught red-handed, & looked away. however, what you missed to notice was itachi’s subtle smirk after. “oh no- he’s approaching you!” your friend urgently whispered, and before you could say anything… there he was. “hello, seemed like you really wanted to stand up for the underdog there. why didn’t you?” he hums, leaning in a little. great! no introductions, no pleasantries.

“cus it’s none’o’my business.” you scoffed, looking at him back in the eye. typical dior sauvage mingled with another scent that you don’t figure out. itachi’s smile faded at the sass. “then, if something wrong happens with you, my dear… don’t expect people to care.” he gently touched the ends of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. the action has you taken aback — what did he even mean! “i’m sure i don’t need anyone to step in.” you raise a brow, adamant & dominant in your tone. that’s right - you bloody don’t. you can handle a dude who’s too full of himself all by yourself.

your attention was diverted to the chitter chatter around you. people were almost — fixated on you and him. jesus christ, was he that popular?! you lean back from him immediately. causing him to reflexively wrap his hand around your wrist, pulling you closer to him. even with your resistance, you were bolted against him. your chest pressed against his torso. “what are you doin’!!” your hand was twisted and nudged against your back, arching it. “sorry, i just wasn’t finished with the conversation.” he says simply, still holding you close. “name, and class…”

seriously? what does he think of himself! name and class? “my name’s mind your business, and my class is leagues above you.” you hated that you came up with something so cliche but it was last minute. itachi just chuckled, letting you go. his eyes unwavering as he glared at your friend, calling her with his fingers curling. she’s blinking, unsure what to do and just walks up to him. “hey, what’s her name?” he asks, and she blurts it out. your name, your class. you wanted to dig a hole and die. “why? want to come to my class and bother me?” you glared & scoffed, arms crossing in defense. “mm, not decided yet.” he flicks your forehead & walks away. the first interaction with itachi was so weird…

ever since that incident, some people started looking at you differently. girls approached you more, some of them lowkey threatened you for not buzzing around itachi. as if! you were really not interested in this whole uchiha shenanigan. until, one of these days you were targetted by those same group of girls in the cafeteria. the typical trick of downing an entire plate of food on you does the trick. phones were out, mean comments were being spouted. “she thinks she’s all that” / “oops, are ya gonna cry?” / “who does she think she is?” || you couldn’t believe just an interaction with the uchiha was proving to be so troublesome. you tried your best to control your emotions, to not either rage out or cry about this.

“ah- there you are little y/n.” he hums, walking towards you and leaving the crowd shaken up by just his presence alone. the girls looked at him & you. honestly, you didn’t expect him to hover around this. “let’s get you changed.” he hums, smiling a little. “i’m sure people here would know better than to stress you out again. i suppose, i see it as my sole responsibility.” he speaks to you but his glare is lethal towards everyone. “and i’m sure, people know better than to post those videos. i can hunt them down quite easily.” he coos, walking away with you. dumbfounded. you are literally dumbfounded. “why?” you mumbled, walking with him towards the infirmary. “just because i wouldn’t like someone else bear the consequences of my attention. i’d rather you bear them when i am the sole contributor.” itachi… talked in this weird, refined manner that just made you giggle. weirdo…

that was the day itachi started to hang around you most of the time. you’re going home? need someone to follow you? you don’t? ah, too bad. you can’t make decisions for someone else. he follows you home and makes small talk, teasing you and telling you that he would probably come inside & tell your mom that you like him…. which you absolutely don’t. (yet).

there are some days where he notices you don’t eat much during lunch hours. honestly, sometimes the food from the cafeteria just gives you the ick. you have been seen eating wafers, some junk food and sometimes snacking on protein bars. one of these days, you’d just find him throwing it away. “trash.” is all he says, watching your mouth agape when you notice he just threw off your bloody lunch! before you can say anything, there is an eerie sense or urgent rage that flows through you. coming through as glossed eyes. you push his chest away. “what’s it gotta do with you motherfucker.” you snarl at him, walking away. itachi leaves you alone for the next few days, until you are found eating whatever again. this time when he comes closer to you, you glare daggers instantly. “i will kill you.” you scoffed. however, itachi had… an alternate idea. “brought some home-made ramen with eggs and meat.” he hums, “wanna try?” // “is it drugged?” // “wanna try?” // “is it drugged?” // “what could i possibly gain from drugging it?” // you sigh, taking the ramen from him. itachi & his weird ways of showing affection honestly.

itachi had never been so constant and buzzing around someone at all. with the way he swarms around you, his uchiha cousins have noticed you. there’s shisui, sasuke… and some other folks that he hangs out with. sasuke uchiha is itachi’s sibling, and one day, he embarrasses itachi on the way home with you. “i don’t get it, why do you insist on following me home like a dog?” // “because you amuse me, little one.” // “no because he’s whipped & doesn’t have the balls to say it.” sasuke says out loud, a metre or two away. “ah….. sasuke…..” that was the first time you saw itachi’s careful and calm aura disappear for a moment.

during the highschool trip, itachi didn’t let anyone sit next to you in the bus. him & only him. he even let you lean your head against his shoulder when you slept without a care. no boys were allowed near you. and just to piss him off, you decide to meet up with your classmates late at night for a drinking game. things end up… a little escalated because clearly one of them couldn’t hold their alcohol, and tried to push himself on you. that was the day you realized… itachi is dangerous. especially when you couldn’t count how many times his fists met the poor chap’s face.

-> honestly i think this needs parts i just keep writing on writing 😭 but yeah, he’s not your typical bully per se. he’s just… well, itachi. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[fun-k-board]

MARVEL RIVALS - Christmas time!!

Characters included: MAGNETO, SCARLET WITCH, LOKI, STORM, MOON KNIGHT.

Note(s): This includes a lot of headcanons because I'm not sure the full lore and characterisation of things like the X-Men, what version of Moon Knight they're going for, what have you. So, I'm doing it on what I prefer from various comic runs, movies, shows, etc over the years. Some are a little lackluster because of this.

MAX EISENHARDT / ERIK LEHNSHERR / MAGNETO

Erik personally doesn't celebrate Christmas, and that's due to the religious connotations of the holiday even if it's become less Christianity based over the years. But, he doesn't mind the excuse to give you a gift and spend time with his family if you do celebrate. Even if, at this point, the 'family' is just you and him.

He won't put up decorations if you're spending Christmas at his house or if you share a house, he won't wrap the gift, he won't have Christmas themed dinners or anything, but he'll always accept your gifts and give you one back if, as mentioned before, you happen to celebrate. If you don't, he most likely won't give you a gift or mention it as the holiday's existence will simply slip his mind. More of an afterthought than anything else.

Of course plenty of mutants on Krakoa celebrate, and plenty don't, and plenty have a weird in-between where they participate but don't really celebrate. So, it's not entirely out of sight out of mind. In all honesty, Erik is just happy mutants get a chance to have any holidays alive and happy with one another at all.

If you prefer to go all out for Christmas, as in all the things he wouldn't do that I mentioned before, Erik wouldn't mind. All he asks is that you leave both his room and the public parts of your home alone. Assuming you share a room, then he plainly asks that you don't decorate it, but if you must, to keep it at a minimum.

If you don't share a house and he's simply spending holiday time at your house then he politely comments on the decorations, maybe giving a bit of backhanded and passive aggressive sass if he thinks they're ugly. But, it's your home. It's not his place to say what goes and what doesn't.

Speaking of that situation, if you have family staying at your house for Christmas / you live with family, he's very awkward, and I don't believe he'd go at all if nobody in the house is a mutant. Erik doesn't doubt they know of him, it'd be strange if they didn't, so I think you two would give him a secret identity for your families safety. He'd be very silent and still during opening presents, with a dash of silent judgment.

I don't think he'd outright refuse to help you with decorations, he'd do that old man thing where he stares at you with a huffed look on his face until you ask him for help, in which case he mainly uses his powers if there's metal involved. Sometimes he'll say something like 'really my dear, did you truly need help or is this an excuse to spend time with me?' But hey, he's pretty tall so if you happen to not be tall, he's a great help!

I think he'd gift you something like jewellery, metal, but also with other things like, well, jewels. He wants something simple, but that shows heartfelt meaning. It's covered in intricate patterns, perhaps ones that reflect your place of origin to show that he loves you, even where you were born.

Erik's eyes tilt up, following your lingering gaze. He nearly lets out a laugh at the mistletoe hanging above you, but it comes out as a small huff. 'what a silly tradition.' he'd hum, before leaning close and giving your lips the most unsatisfactory peck he's ever given them. At your look, whether outwardly dissatisfied or with only a hint of disappointment in your eyes, he'll act like it wasn't purposeful, sighing as if this is some chore as he leans in for another. But you know him well, you know that hidden loving look in his eyes.

WANDA DJANGO MAXIMOFF / SCARLET WITCH

Wanda, for the reasons in Magneto's section, also doesn't celebrate Christmas. Although, I don't see her continuing on any holidays in general or family traditions, her broken connection to her father most likely created a fractured connection to anything associated with him. She just doesn't seem like a 'holiday' person to me.

However, if you two either happen to share a house or she's at yours in time for the holidays, she doesn't mind helping you put up decorations or helping you cook for Christmas. If you have family, she's doing a mix of doing what she can to impress them whilst refusing to do anything that makes her go past her comfort zone.

I absolutely think she's a good cook, and if she doesn't unintentionally hijack the kitchen, she will help whoever's in there. Whether that be you or your family. Any attempts to tell her that 'you're a guest' and 'you should be relaxing' are met with a wave of the hand and a small, awkward smile. As much as she does just love to help your family assuming they're sweet and accepting of her, she also is very peculiar with food. I think Wanda would make her own side dish just in case.

Honestly, I think she would invite Pietro and Lorna if you and them are close enough? She knows Christmas is a family event, and since that's her family, why not invite them, right? She hopes you see them as your family too, because they've spent too long without something stable. Even though deep down she does have some love for her father, although maybe not as deep down as she thinks, she doesn't want to and would never contact him for Christmas with you and especially not with your family.

Wanda loves to do that thing where she hugs you from behind, absolutely astounded that she has you. She's astounded that you love her, and that you appreciate her so much. Not many do, and she can't help but find so much comfort in that. I think she'd do it whenever she gets emotional but doesn't want to show it, a hug from behind to tell you that she's hurting, but you're helping her heal.

Wanda doesn't like the feeling she gets when opening presents in front of your family, especially if they've given her something. It's usually something they've got an idea from after asking you, so maybe a candle or something handmade, and as much as she appreciates and even loves the gifts she's given it's still a weird almost performance she needs to put on. The feeling isn't as uncomfortable as it is just a bit awkward.

I think she'd only give you a gift if she knows you're getting her one, through communication. She won't ask what it is or peek through your mind to find out, she doesn't really care what the gift is exactly, and she trusts you enough to gift her something she likes and would find useful. I think Wanda does love little mutual acts of affection, so she wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to give you something.

Her eyes flick up before yours do, and Wanda can't help but give you a small chuckle, the most amused look in her eyes that you've ever seen. 'oh? Isn't this convenient.' she purrs, her hand outstretches, capturing your own in a comforting embrace. She whispers, 'I can't believe I got so lucky, my love. You're wonderful.' before giving you a short but comfortable and loving kiss.

LOKI LAUFEYSON

Loki thinks your celebration is more than a little silly. I mean, who cares about this guy who gives presents to kids? Why not the adults? He does far more in a day than some snotty brat has done in their entire lifetime!

Oh- he's not real? Well, then where are his presents, mortal?!

He will say that even if you're not a mortal by the way. It's his personal way of saying 'you're under me and I'm perfect compared to you' without actually saying it.

He absolutely refuses to stay at your house for Christmas if you have family over, because he knows that he will cause mischief and you will get angry at him for it and he would rather you gift him your devotion than be under your wrath. Don't tell him he could kill you easily, he knows that, and he will if you keep pittering on. (He won't). Unless, perhaps, you don't have the best relationship with your family. Then he can probably convince you that it's fair game.

Loki will not invite Thor or Hela, don't even entertain the idea. He will leave.

I think he'd give you a dagger of some kind for a present, even if you're a regular Joe and don't have a use for weapons, you can always display it. And have an engraved stand that tells you your mighty lover, Loki, God of Mischief and notoriously handsome trickster, had gifted you it for your silly holiday.

He will not help you cook or put up decorations unless you literally beg him to, even then he can mainly do some pieces of meat at least decently well. It'd be best to have him do some parts of the cooking while you're preoccupied with the other. He tends to only help with the decorations he knows you'll struggle with, although he won't tell you that outright it's pretty obvious. Especially if you're shorter, less strong than he is, or have any kind of physical disability that could cause trouble with putting up decorations.

Will puff up his chest and grin when you compliment his efforts to help and or compliment his gift. He loudly proclaims that of course he'll give you something so beautiful, because he's beautiful and he very clearly has taste. But, you simply couldn't ignore the way his gaze softened a little when you were speaking. The way you could feel his eyes looking you up and down with adoration.

Loki raises a brow at your expectant look, slowly following your gaze until it reaches the mistletoe. Oh, you've explained this to him, the strange little kissing ritual you midgardians have. His expression twists into something different, his eyes sparkling with mirth, but he doesn't go right in for the kiss. Instead, he holds your chin in his hand, pulling you close until you can breathe in each other's air. 'what a silly mortal.' he mutters, making you tilt your head so he can kiss you. He doesn't intend it to be a small peck either, his kiss is as deep and passionate as you allow it to be.

ORORO MUNROE / STORM

Ororo finds amusement in your tradition, the decorations, the gifts, it makes her heart warm. It's a time for family, and she reminisces over the X-Men's past Christmas times. It's never dull, lots of mutations being used when they're not supposed to, frequent arguments and drama, it was perfect. Not to mention, always the best meals from Gambit and Rogue. She adores the look on the younger mutants faces when they receive something special.

And, in her personal opinion, she's the best gift giver in the X-Mansion.

Ororo would absolutely help make meals, and she jokes that she's not as good at it as Gambit or Rogue are, but she'll try her best. She then proceeds to make one of the best meals you've ever had. It's perfectly flavoured, the texture is just to your liking, it's absolutely delightful. And if you're spending time with family? Expect her to go all out.

Your family will adore her, no doubt about that. No matter what the situation is, whether you and Ororo share a house, you live on your own, you live with family, or you and your family visit the X-Mansion for the holidays. She charms them with her sternness and discipline, her strength unimaginable, but her warmth and friendliness is what truly seals the deal in their adoration for her.

Unwrapping presents tends to be a long process for the X-Mansion. There's a lot of people there, so it's normal to open them all at once and try to get it through as quickly as possible, cleaning as you go with trash bags at the ready to throw in any waste. With a whole family, or perhaps just you in the mix, it can be a bit awkward and even a little overstimulating if you're not acquainted with the X-Men. She's never felt the need to pretend, so she assures you that you don't need to be happy the entire evening because Logan isn't and everybody still loves him, you'll be fine.

The one thing Ororo loves to do most is listen to you. Whether it be generally your life, what you had for breakfast, a story from your childhood, it creates something easy where she can bounce off the conversation with something of her own. It continues the conversation until either of you end it, and causes the conversation to flourish where it would've died otherwise. She uses this to find out what present you'll want for Christmas, so it'll heavily depend on what you actually want.

It honestly doesn't matter what you get her, she'll be appreciative all the same. She knows just how hard it can be to afford things, to create from seemingly nothing, no matter how much effort you put in. To her, the fact you gave her a gift at all is something meaningful within itself. So, even if it's some poorly made easily breakable bracelet, she will wear it with pride.

When she finds herself under the mistletoe with you, her lips curl into the most amused smile and she'll use her powers to twirl the leaves, a teasing hint to her true might. 'was this your plan all along, my dear?' she'll ask, leaning closer, waiting for you to capture her lips. If you take too long, however, she'll raise a brow and mutter a teasing 'don't test my patience' before kissing you herself.

MARC SPECTOR / MOON KNIGHT

Marc is, well, he's not the most jolly guy, and it's been years since he's even bothered to tune into Christmas time when it happens. It's not like he has anybody to spend it with. He would much rather you spend Christmas with Steven or Jake, they're better at that kind of thing, and they're a lot more friendly, buddy buddy with you.

Of course Marc loves you, and if you really want to spend time with him for Christmas he will do it, but he isn't going to act differently for you. He will be the same edgy, broody man. He will absolutely say something like 'the Christmas lights are too bright, it ruins my outfit.' in the gruffest voice you've heard.

I think he'd be a good cook. Nothing that blows you away, but you can definitely eat enough to get full and be satisfied with it. Jake probably leaves some recipes around, and if it does end up becoming a disaster he can always take over and salvage the situation before the house burns down.

He doesn't mind the house being decorated, assuming it's either his or your shared one, as long as it's not like so many Christmas lights it's hard to see or so many decorations you get whacked on the face with them whenever you want to walk somewhere. He'd also help if you asked him to, but I don't think Marc would just hop on and help. He'd assume you have it all covered.

I don't think there are many universes where Marc would consider meeting and visiting your family for Christmas, especially not the Marvel Rivals one. If you're really insistent and passionate about it, he supposes he can. But don't expect him to stay for long if they're not accepting of you or him, he doesn't have any tolerance for that. Plus, he doesn't want to hear Khonshu complaining in his ear that he isn't committing murder while he's around your family, they don't get him or his Identity as Moon Knight like you do.

'Mistletoe, huh?' he muses, his voice would sound almost annoyed to anybody else, but you know him better than anybody else. Or, at least most other people. He crosses his arms as you look up and realise, clearly having forgotten at some point. With his expression a strange mix between a firm sternness and amusement, he pats his lips with his pointer finger twice. 'you put it up, you initiate.'

[wtfdemother]

Slasher AU Hewitt!König biggest sweetheart imo. NSFW below, happy Kinkvember day 13 ☃️🤝

post dividers by tsunami-of-tears

CW: boobs, boobs, boobs, boobs, lotta booobs. Man I make the baddest bitches send me nuuudes/lyr. Anwyay, König’s got an oral fixation that needs attention.

Hewitt!König X Wife!Reader

Hewitt!König who trails behind you that morning on your way to the barn. Luda Mae needed eggs for breakfast and you were more than happy to oblige, thinking nothing of the nervous fidgeting coming from the hulking man who sulked at your side. It was funny, really, sometimes you’d peer out the corner of your eye to catch a glimpse of him, trying hard to ignore you while he was hard at work. You were no fool, you knew behind those bushy, furrowed brows he was dying to be in the place of that three month old calf you coddled, or the one being nuzzled and grabbed instead of the big, squishy nose of a horse.

Hewitt!König who wanted the same amount of attention you gave the chickens and other farm animals on that damn ranch, you’re the whole reason he got his family to raise more than just chickens and pigs! If he’d knew those furry creatures would steal your attention, he wouldn’t have gotten them. Now, he’s paying the price, big time. He hates and loves himself for it, there hid no ill intentions towards your little animals, how they brought light to your face was more than enough to soothe his heart. He learned to share but decided that enough with the chores the minute you spilled a pail of water on yourself.

Hewitt!König who drops whatever it was he was doing, his concentration fizzling out in an instant. His mind is full of you. He steps over the object now lying in the mud, two meaty paws come to grab you tight by the waist, hoisting you up like a bag of flour. “König! We don’t have time for this—” He throws you onto a stack of hay, grunting a mumbled response behind the leather mask to silence your sass. To him you were giving him sass, but you just wanted to change out of this wet shirt. To which he obliged happily, helping you toss that shirt to the ground.

Hewitt!König who ignores your weakly said protests as he kisses his way up your stomach to your throat, giving the delicate skin a small nip before descending lower to your collarbone. From there his kisses get hotter, breathier, marred flesh pressed the kindest of kisses on your skin, your head fell back and you let him do whatever. A deep rumble of approval reaches your ears, making your panties slick from the timbre sound alone. He stills you when you squirm, his breath hot on your peak. Gingerly he licks at the bud, eyelids flutter shut as he groans from the taste of your warmth on his tongue. He swore he could fall asleep suckling at your nipple, but the strain in his pants proves too much to simply ignore. He palms your unoccupied breast with a large hand, for such calloused fingertips they worked most benevolently.

Hewitt!König who closed the entire world off when he was with you, too busy pouring his attention on the firm peak in the warmth of his mouth, gathering as much spit as he could around your nipple as he swirled his tongue and sucked with fervour. You dig your fingers deep in his hair, trying to pull him off but that mountain of a man wouldn’t budge so long as he had a mouthful of your tit. He lets go with a resounding pop!, his lips glistening with spit and his breath short. He doesn’t give you a moment of reprieve, diving in again to latch onto your other nipple. No, he hasn’t forgotten about it, kleine lamm.

Hewitt!König who traps your growing bud between his teeth, giving it a little tug before taking it fully in his mouth. He’s growing demanding, wanting more of you to satisfy that gnawing urge. Growling feral sounds occupy the air, you swore you had an animal on top of you as he tore into the fat of your bosom, leaving small dents the shape of his teeth all around the ample flesh spread beneath him like dough. What a sight, he huffs fondly, dipping down once more to kiss the space between your breasts.

Hewitt!König who only pulls away once he’s done slobbering all over your chest, grinning at the bite marks on your tender flesh and the tears brimming your eyes. He kisses you apologetically, but that doesn’t stop your tits from being sore. He gets that much from the frown on your face, carefully he ducks back to press the softest of kisses on the blues and purples blooming over your skin. Again and again, you can barely hear him moving above but you can feel his lips pressing reverently to each and every bruise. What a sight for sore eyes, he thought.

Hewitt!König who speaks only for you, despite the discomfort. “Tut mir leid, Schatz…” he grumbles, voice hoarse from years of misuse. He doesn’t really need it, mostly just communicates with a series of curt head nods and grunts. But with you? He liked seeing you shine with delight every time he spoke. He leans into your touch as a hand slides down his cheek from the top of his head, his hair a little disheveled from your tight grab. “S’okay, big guy…” you say in a whisper, running a thumb over his scarred face. Beautiful, genuine features you thought, nobody felt so deeply like you did for each other. “I was a little rough too…”

He was too shy to finish y’alls business in the barn, so he quickly carried you home. Later on, sometime in the early evening he brought lunch over to your bed on account of your legs being out of commission, curtesy of König and your shared needs.

[thewitchblue]

"What's that?"

You asked Terry one day. He fell asleep during art class, and you wanted to know what he was drawing. He startled awake when you placed a timid hand on his arm.

Terry blinked at you, bleary-eyed before looking back down at his novel. He moves his arms to guard it more from your gaze once your words are registered in his exhausted brain. He awkwardly said,

"My, uh... it's probably stupid. I'm making a graphic novel."

He was oddly protective of his work, but your kind smile and curious gaze made him feel like he could trust you. You looked so warm and open to either seeing his work or walking away if he said no. There was something special in the look you gave him. It was a benevolent gaze that welcomed him in when everyone else shoved him away.

With great hesitation, he slides the chapter he was working on for you to read. He tapped his pen on his desk nervously. He suddenly felt empty-handed and vulnerable.

He was anxiously watching your expression as you read his work. He's never... shown off his work before. He always felt like it was lame to continue a project he's been working on on-and-off for years. He's never had a desire to share his novel. It was still in the works and had a long way to go.

He felt himself physically relax when you gave him back his novel. He felt as if he had just opened his heart to you and prayed you didn't stab it. This project has years' worth of thoughts and ideas. He had question marks and scribbled ideas in every corner of every page he has worked on so far.

Every time he had an idea of the direction he wanted to take the novel in, it was scribbled down along the sides or in the corners of the pages in his scratchy handwriting. It felt childish to look at now that he really took a look. He cringed and immediately tucked it away into the folder he had it placed in.

"I'm impressed, Terry. You'll have to send me a copy when you release it."

Your kind words made a part of him melt. It gave him the courage to continue. He bit his lip as his eyes returned back to his novel. It was still a series of loose sketches and not anywhere close to finished, but he appreciated the kind words.

You always were the kind kid with a soft voice and gentle hands. Your encouragement stirred something in him. He couldn't believe nobody has dated you yet. He's kept tabs on you for as long as he's known you. You with the gentle smile and the heart of gold. You, who never has a bad thing to say about anyone. You, who loved your friends and family with your entire heart and soul.

Before you could walk away, he awkwardly took your hand to stop you. Now that he thought about it, this was probably a terrible idea.

"I, uh, I... would you like to go out some time?"

He felt awkward. He can bully the Joker into submission, but a beautiful pair of doe eyes has him buckling? He feels pathetic, truly, with how nervous he felt, but he always had a thing for you that he never knew how to explain.

You looked surprised. Terry isn't known for relationships, especially not serious ones that you were seeking. Your eyes softened, however, as you looked at your conjoined hands before turning back to face Terry.

He's normally the bad kid; the kid teachers hate and the class legend, full of sass and always ready to pick a fight, but this Terry was... different. He wasn't guarded. He seemed so shy under all the sassy armour. He was adorable as he carefully watched your expression for any hint of what you may be thinking about.

You lightly squeezed his hand and smiled warmly at Terry. His blue eyes looked at you with such raw emotion that there was only one decision.

"Yes. You can tell me more about your novel, McGinnis."

You scribble a time and location for the date onto a slip of paper and hand it to him with a sweet smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow, pretty boy."

He looked like he suddenly realised he managed to get a date with you, and he was a blushing mess. You kissed his cheek before walking off. This may be the start of something more beautiful than he could ever hope for.

Bruce is going to kill him, but he feels truly content in the moment.

[opal-owl-flight]

Quick lore question, did marie considering the idea of replacing 4 play into the insecurities she has later?

Absolutely.

I wanna preface this by saying one thing: Young 4 was a COMPLETELY different person before she got recruited by Marie. And Marie...responds to her accordingly.

Long read abt Hero2 events below!! Its. A lil messy sorry qisjke these are my notes

Young 4? A bitch.

Everything she ever wanted was given to her. Moved out of the highlands with an ego the size of a planet (and also bc she felt suffocated there), thinking she can make it in the big city.

...she struggled to make it alone. She had moved out bc her family was suffocating her with love, but now theyre not here, so now she feels homesick and underappreciated.

All that is expressed by her harsh, bitchy attitude. Shes gonna be mean bc no one has seen her for who she is. She'll show them!!

She finds her way around like this, and discovers that shes just as good at turf war here and at home. In fact, shes *so* good that she got the status of a rising star!

It aaalll just gets into her head. Shes "proven everyone wrong" now. Shes got the superiority complex and can back it up.

Marie...

...saw this. She was looking for a new agent to help find the missing zapfish. The second 4 heard this from her, she flexed her arms and...

"Look no further, your hero is RIGHT HERE!"

Marie at first adored the spunkiness of this new agent. Uuuntil 4 started thinking that shes better than her.

"Watch out, Agent Four!"

"You watch YOURSELF, grandma! Think Im a damn idiot to not see that coming? WAHA!"

Marie rolled up her sleeves after several stages full of her ignoring orders or sassing her out of nowhere.

Is that how shes gonna be? Fine.

When 4 finally trips and falls, hard, on a particularly difficult level, Marie pulls her to the side to fix her up and give her a lecture that tore her fucking ego to shreds.

She says something so fucking harsh like "That attitude will make SURE that you die sad and alone. I wonder how anyone puts up with you."

4s too hurt by her own failure to say anything back.

The reality of war finally gives her a reality check. Each victory is earned. its her life on the line. And the world.

She regains her spunk after saving the world.

------

Silly 4. She gets the job done but it takes a LOT of pushing in the mid-stages. Its like she got legitimately bored after the initial super easy ones, and thought the entire campaign a joke.

She went back to her turfing life topside between stages. And she takes a WHILE to come back to her missions -- usually late!! And then before she even goes in she just HAS to yak Marie's face off with what she was doing up there.

"Youre late."

"You shouldve SEEN ME, Marie!! I was carrying that Rainmaker round! I was-"

"Pray tell, Agent Four. How will you keep participating in turf with the Zapfish gone?"

"Whaat? Cmon. Nothing seems to be changing! Theres still power through the city!"

"The backup supply wont last forever, you know."

"Yeah yeah. Okay. Im here now. Wheres the next kettle?"

This attitude is from her high school days, clearly. She breezes by everything so fast that she can afford to do things last minute. It affects even this.

That, alongside her talking smack back to Marie, is what makes her snap at 4. Its what makes 4 stick to the mission fully starting late area 4 and area 5. (This is also around the time 4s life was threatened. God help me in those stupid platforming stages)

Post Hero2, 4 more or less does what 3 does. Shes the "replacement" til 3 comes back. (That cant be good for her confidence.)

At the same time, she has to deal with Callie and Marie talking out what the fuck Callie did with Octaria. "THEY SQUIDNAPPED GRAMPS!!!" and all. Why help them??? They get into squabbles where 4 was the unfortunate witness to. And peacemaker. It does NOT help that Callie for a while kept putting the glasses back on!!!

4 wishes so bad she had help of any sort. She feels 3 might be able to do something but what does she know?? Shes never met em!! She just imagines what the missing agent would do in that situation.

Callie...was also the person she got close to. Shes fun (unlike the stuck up Marie), shes empathic, she opened 4s eyes to the Octarian plight. It made her acceptance of 8 later much smoother.

Im not saying shes not close to Marie either, I bet they healed their relationship around this year too. Marie's sorry she tore 4s ego the way she did (even if deserved...). Marie's much more supportive of what 4s doing topside. Shes expressing her pride in the agent she found much more openly. (She brags abt her to Callie at times.)

The three of them heal together in that time. 4 sees them as older sisters Im p sure. Theyre both giving her tips for turfing and -- Marie even helps her with homework, HAH

And...while I say that 4 and Marie are in better terms, there are still days where Marie blows up on her. Lesser extent than before, but shes *worried* for her agent! (Its a similar plight 3 has.) In those times, its Callie who has her back. ("Hey! Its not like shes not trying!!" Callie understands how it is, and she also knows Marie best -- shes the one who makes 4 understand where Marie is coming from.)

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I think this is probably the last one for tonight. Or...this morning. It's five A.M. and it would likely be logical for me to go sleep now.

Soooo I got two Fluffy Alphabet requests for Sassy McSwordsman back to back with quite a few intersecting letters, so I just combined them both into one post.

This post, even.

Anyway...Mihawk.

A is for Affirmation (How affirming are they of you and their love for you?)

“Yes, I called you 'darling.' What of it? Shall I call you pest instead?”

Has developed a tendency to address you by pet names without being sarcastic about it, and doesn’t even really seem to notice he’s doing it unless you point it out—in which case he’ll fix you with a wry look and probably an equally wry comment.

The L word really doesn’t come out of Mihawk’s mouth very often. It’s not something  he’s ever said very much to anyone, he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. If you say it then he’ll respond accordingly, but otherwise he don’t say it much.

Actions speak far louder than words in his case. He has made it clear that he absolutely will not tolerate anyone or anything threatening or insulting you, that he places your safety and contentment on a pedestal and will do whatever he has to in order to ensure you have both.

When he does say it, you know he means it. He makes sure to look into your eyes, to say it with absolute conviction.

Always says it before you part ways, regardless of how long, or before you fall asleep. Given the dangerous and violent nature of his life in general, he knows full well that any time you part could be the last time. He wants to make sure that if that should come to pass, that “I love you” should be the final words exchanged between you.

C is for Courtship (How would they court you?)

“I wouldn’t venture to waste my time speaking with anyone but the most stunning woman here, my lady.”

Courtship is a game of cat and mouse to Mihawk—once he knows you’re interested, he thoroughly enjoys teasing you with his own intentions, and he’s both patient and confident enough to keep the game going until you’re ready to lose your everloving mind.

He’s fairly subtle about it, but not so subtle as to leave you wondering about whether he’s interested. He’ll make it clear enough that he wants you to himself, but he wants to make sure to leave you wanting, to build the anticipation to a breaking point.

Intense eye contact when you’re speaking, peppered with quick glances up and down your body.

Keeping his voice low and intimate when he speaks to you, maybe as an excuse to lean in a little closer…or a lot closer.

His hand curling beneath your chin to draw you in, close enough to almost meet your lips before drawing back and assuming a more formal tone again—eyes glued to yours the entire time, drawing a great deal of entertainment from your reaction.

Greeting you or parting ways with you by bending down slightly to lift your hand and brush his lips to it.

F is for Family/Family (What happens when they’re around other people you care about?)

“Yes, darling, I’ll behave—so long as they do.”

He’s willing to grin and bear family affairs and friends for your sake, though he very much prefers it being just the two of you.

Perfectly capable of being polite and cordial, though there’s going to be the occasional dry comment here or there simply because sass is his default setting.

But if it’s uncomfortable for you to be around anyone, or if you have any family members or fair-weather friends that happen to be vindictive and/or judgmental, then it might be best to leave him out of it—he absolutely will not put up with anyone insulting you.

You’re his treasure, after all—and he’s one of the strongest men in the world, which makes you, as far as he’s concerned, among the most valuable treasures in the world. No one gets away with doing or saying anything  to demean you in front of him.

He has more than enough self-control to not get violent for your sake, but he doesn’t need Yoru to tear someone a new asshole if they do or say anything that he deems offensive. He’s just as quick with words as he is with a blade, and the offending party is going to come out of the exchange with a  mortally wounded sense of pride.

I is for I Love You (Who says it first, how long does it take, how does it happen?)

“What do you mean, ‘do I mean it?’ Why would I have said it if I didn’t?”

Him. Absolutely him.

Solitary as he is, it’s a bit awkward for him to say in the first place. He wants to be sure you know, but he doesn’t want to make a huge deal of it. It’s just a simple truth that has to be stated at some point, and he has to be sure he’s the one who says it first.

It might take a while. He won’t say it until he’s absolutely sure of it, but his inclination to be in total control of any and every situation he finds himself in means he’s going to take that initiative himself.

If he so much as senses you intend to say it first, he’s going to cut you off every single time.

It’s also going to come completely out of the blue. Not in the middle of some extravagant gesture, but just in passing; perhaps before you go to bed one night, perhaps as you happen to be leaving the room. He intends to catch you off guard with it, to see if you simply return the sentiment single thought, before it fully registers in your mind what you’ve just said—what he has just said.

The more taken aback you are by the realization, the more amused he’ll be; he was halfway aiming to shock you, and he finds it quite endearing.

K is for Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you/be kissed?)

“…And to whom, little one, do those lips belong?”

Firm and unyielding, deep and intense, grasping you by your arms or your wrists to limit your own movement and claim full control. He wants to steal your breath away every time your lips touch, and damned if he isn’t an expert at it.

He loves to press his lips just below the corner of your jaw to feel your pulse quicken while his hands drift over you.

He’s going to leave bruises, marks across your neck and shoulders that claim you as his, so that no one might dare question who you belong to.

Mihawk would never admit to having any weakness, but if he had to admit to just one, it would be when you brush your lips just next to his ear in between intimate murmurs and whispers—it drives him absolutely feral for you.

N is for Needs (What do they need in a healthy relationship?)

“Come now, dear—do you think I would be here with you if I didn’t honestly want to be?”

Not an awful lot, honestly. As high maintenance as he comes across (and he his high maintenance in nearly every other aspect of his life), he really doesn’t require much from a romantic relationship. Just the basics, really: trust, honesty, and loyalty. The three go hand-in-hand, and he would never have even entertained the idea of a relationship with you if he didn’t trust you, so he isn’t terribly concerned.

His confidence borders on arrogance at the best of times, so reassurance isn’t any issue. He can’t see any reason that you would lie about your feelings, nor does he have any reason to lie about his own. He’s brutally honest to a fault, so there really isn’t any reason for you to mistrust him, either.

While he would prefer for his lover to be just as low-maintenance, he won’t fault you if you aren’t. He has no issue offering you reassurance if you require it—though he may taunt you a bit about needing it in the first place.

Quality time would likely be his primary love language; he can stand some time apart, but he very much prefers having you near. Knowing you’re safe in his arms gives him peace of mind.

O is for Others (How do they react when you’re around other people?)

“Of course I trust you, my little bird—it’s everyone else that presents an issue.”

It strongly depends on the people in question. If he knows that you’re in a social situation you find uncomfortable, he won’t leave your side for any reason, and will use his presence alone to intimidate the opposing party until they leave you be.

If you’re among friends, he’ll take on more of a silent observer role. He’s more than capable of being amicable if directly addressed, but otherwise he’s likely to remain off to the side, quietly watching and listening, taking it as an opportunity to learn more about you.

In a crowd of strangers, particularly if he notices any other men eyeing you, he’ll keep an arm curled protectively around your waist. He isn’t much for public displays of affection, but he wants it to be known that you’re his, and that anyone who thinks they can change that will have to answer to him.

He does his best not to come off as imposing or controlling toward you—but while he trusts you implicitly, he doesn’t extend that courtesy to many other people.

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

a/n: this is honestly my favorite chapter. when i imagine feminine rage, i imagine a room full of glass shattering. in the same breath, absolute agony and pain feeding the rage is just ugh poetic as hell

part 21: in sadness, she walks (in silence, she screams)

word count: 1,859 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @bellabarnes1378 | @johnmurphys-sass

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The tension in the room was thick as Arthur stood by the mantle at Arrow House, swirling the whiskey in his glass. You sat stiffly on the sofa, hands clenched in your lap. Tommy leaned over the sofa just beside you like he wanted to make sure you were ready for whatever you were about to hear. He watched Arthur with an unblinking stare. Michael and Finn sat at a small table with their hands in their pockets. John perched on the arm of a chair, while Polly stood by the window, her expression unreadable.

Arthur hadn’t spoken yet, letting the weight of his silence build. Your gaze was fixed on the floor, your usual composure showing cracks that only those close to you would notice.

“You’d best start talkin’, Arthur,” John finally said, breaking the silence.

Arthur sighed, setting his glass down with a heavy thud. “Made a trip to London yesterday,” he said, his voice rough. He didn’t look at you as he began. Instead, he stared into the fire, as though the flames could help him piece the story together.

“Went to see Ezra's father, Frank,” Arthur continued. “Man’s been livin’ in his own little hell since Ezra died. Grief’ll do that to you, you know that. He told me what happened that night. Why he told y/n to leave.”

Your eyes snapped up to Arthur, but you didn't speak.

He turned to face you, his gaze steady but filled with something softer than pity. “He said... an old family friend—a man he trusted named Alfred Bingham told him that you pushed Ezra too far. That you were the reason he had the seizure.”

You stared at Arthur, but he saw the shadow of those old accusations in your eyes.

“And he believed him,” Arthur said, his voice quieter. “Frank believed every bloody word.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

“Bingham twisted him up good,” Arthur went on. “But Frank wasn’t just angry at you. He was angry at himself. At Ezra. At the whole damn situation. I think all of us in this room know that sometimes we will find any reason to blame anyone but ourselves. We also know, all too well, that when we grieve... We make terrible decisions. I think, now, Mr. Hargreaves knows the weight of his mistake.”

Tommy’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade. “What about Ezra?”

Arthur’s gaze shifted to Tommy, and his expression darkened. “Spoke to the doctor who was there when it happened. He said Ezra had a moment where he came out of it. He was awake but weak. And then he said,” Arthur hesitated, then looked back at you. “In his last moments, he asked for you. Said your name, not out of anger—out of love.”

The room went still. You didn’t move, didn’t speak. It was as if Arthur’s words had frozen you in place. Polly took a step closer, concern etched into her face, but you raised a hand to stop her.

Arthur pressed on. “He wanted to say goodbye. Poor bastard must've known his time was up. Ezra loved you, y/n. Right to the end. And the doctor made it clear—saw it with my own eyes that even he remembered what the room felt like. He felt Ezra's desperation for you. None of this was your fault.”

Then, with an abruptness that startled even Tommy, you stood. The sofa scraped against the floor, the sound jarring in the heavy silence.

“Is that all?” you asked, your voice unnervingly calm.

Arthur frowned. “y/n—”

“Is that all?” you repeated, louder this time. You didn't wait for a response as you headed towards the door.

“y/n,” Polly called after you, concern laced in her voice.

Finn stepped forward, but you slammed the door, the echo reverberating through the room. Tommy placed his hand on Finn's shoulder with a squeeze, silently telling him to stay there.

Tommy sighed, tossing his cigarette into an ashtray. “I’ll handle it.”

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The cold air hit you like a slap, but you barely noticed. You marched into the gardens, your breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. Your hands trembled as she gripped the edge of your blouse, your knuckles turning white as you twisted and tore at the fabric.

This was what it felt like—of the many moments where you thought the walls were caving in, this was so much worse. It wasn't just the walls. The air turned to ash and soot gathering at the bottom of your lungs until breathing turned painful. Hornets crawled up your neck, a thousand pricks of memories—of moments you wasted feeling nothing. The firm hand of guilt, the hand of what you thought was an old friend, turned into a cruel stranger, ready to squeeze your throat until you screamed.

Tommy found you seconds later, his footsteps soft against the gravel. He stayed back for a moment, watching as you struggled to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven movements.

“y/n,” he said gently, approaching you cautiously.

“Don’t,” you snapped, your voice shrill and unsteady. You held up your head in a silent threat. “Don’t come any closer.”

Tommy ignored you, stepping closer. “You’re having a panic attack,” he said calmly. “Breathe. Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

“Don't fucking touch me!” you wailed, eyes shutting tight as you shook your head. “I can’t… Tommy, I—”

“Use it,” he said firmly, his hand settling on your shoulder.

“What the hell does that even mean?” you snapped.

“Use it,” he repeated, his tone sharper. “The anger. The guilt. The sadness. All of it. Stop fucking fighting it, and use it.”

You shook your head violently again, turning away from him. “You don’t understand. You don’t—”

“Use it,” Tommy interrupted, his voice cutting through your resistance.

Your chest tightened. You opened your eyes, gleaming with tears and bloodshot scars “I can’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“You can,” he said, stepping closer again.

Your body trembled, your defenses cracking under the weight of his words. You felt the rage and grief clawing their way to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

But you resisted. “No,” you whispered, shaking your head again, you voice tight and strained.

“You have to. Or it's never going to stop.”

Tommy's words shattered the last of your control. You could only think to describe what happened next as a window shattering—but not from a bullet. It was a grenade. First the glass, and then the explosion, a room engulfed in blue flames. Only in this case, you didn't know if you were the window or the grenade.

A raw, guttural scream tore from your throat, the sound ripping through the still night air. You bent over to expel every last drip of sound from your lungs, your hands clawing at your chest as if trying to tear the pain out of your body. Your legs gave out, but Tommy was there before you could hit the ground. He caught you, his arms steady and unrelenting, holding you as you sobbed.

The anger poured out of you in waves—screams that dissolved into gasping sobs, your fists pounding weakly against Tommy’s chest before falling limp. Through it all, Tommy stayed silent, solid as a rock, his presence grounding you as you let the storm rage on.

When the last of your screams faded into quiet, broken breaths, you sagged against him, your face buried in his coat. You trembled in his arms, exhausted and empty.

“I didn’t mourn him,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not properly. I couldn’t. I—I was too angry. Too guilty. It hurt too much, so I just… locked it all away.”

Tommy crouched beside you, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. “And now it’s catching up with you.”

You nodded, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his coat. “I didn’t let myself feel it. Not any of it. And now…” You let out a bitter laugh.

“And now, you let it go,” Tommy said without hesitation. “You felt it all at once. Now, it's time.”

You looked at him, eyes swimming with tears. “You sound like you're speaking from experience.”

“I’ve carried guilt like that,” Tommy said simply. “And I know it doesn’t do anyone any good—not you, not him. Ezra wanted you to live. He wanted you safe. That’s why he called for you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your face dropping into your hands. For a long moment, you said nothing, the only sound the distant rustle of leaves in the wind.

Finally, you looked up at him, your expression raw and vulnerable. “What now?”

“Now, you live,” Tommy said softly. “In whatever way you know how.”

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Arthur stood by the door, his eyes flitting between you and Tommy, silently taking in the way you stayed together on the ground, intertwined and coiled together. There was an unspoken rhythm between you, a quiet understanding that spoke volumes. Arthur knew Tommy well—had for years—and even though Tommy’s shoulders were tense and his jaw tight, there was something unshakable in his face. The way his eyes never left you when you spoke. The way the tension in his body began to melt, slowly, at your presence.

Michael, leaning against the far wall, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He watched you two more than he wanted to. You weren’t just with Tommy—you were in Tommy’s world, with all its grit, its violence, its uncertainty. And Tommy welcomed you with open arms. It was clear to Michael now, more than it had ever been, that you weren't someone Tommy was willing to lose. You were something else to him, something deeper than any of them had fully grasped.

Even John, who had seen more of Tommy than anyone, felt the shift. He wasn’t close enough to hear the words exchanged between you two, but he’d watched the way Tommy held your gaze, the intensity in it. And when you moved closer, the fraction of space between them closing in a way that wasn’t about proximity—it was about something felt through a means other than touch. He saw Tommy’s chest rise and fall, almost like a man finally able to breathe after being suffocated for far too long.

Arthur crossed his arms, his gaze hardening slightly as he considered the way the two of you were. “Christ, they're something else,” he murmured, mostly to himself, though Michael nodded in quiet agreement. He didn’t need to say more; the two of them had been through a lot, together and apart. Arthur understood the weight that came with being part of Tommy’s world, but this—this was something else entirely.

“They’re bound by more than blood and money,” Michael said, his voice low. “I don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be able to keep it under wraps. She’s... everything to him. And she knows it.”

Polly slowly walked up to the door, standing between Arthur and Michael. There was a melancholy smile on her face as she looked out to you and Tommy.

"That's love, gentleman," she nodded to Michael. "It's not blood and money. That, right there, is the willing, equal exchange of power between a King and his Queen. They share the throne. And God help any man who tries to take that away from them."

[darkforestpetalkit]

Considering what we learned about Thistleclaw in Spottedleaf's Heart, Petalkit is probably in for the worst of the whole experience in this AU, huh?

First of all, I'd like to address one thing before we begin:

Spottedleaf's Heart does NOT happen in my AU. That vile book is utter trash and horribly written. I do not acknowledge that disgusting piece of garbage as canon, and I never will.

So whatever was learned from Spottedleaf's Heart? Toss it into the sun. Leave it forgotten and burned out of existence.

Now that’s out of the way, onto your question! Is Petalkit in for the worst of the whole experience in this AU?

Nope. Not really.

Sure, his training is intense, unforgiving, and unfairly brutal. But Petalkit isn’t the one on the short end of the stick. Far from! Despite the grueling experience of being Thistleclaw’s apprentice, the real nightmare is for him.

CW: Mentions of abuse, manipulation, and violence

Petalkit talks back, hits back, and isn’t afraid of him. She refuses. She’s too strong-willed, bold, defiant, and sharp to be intimidated into submission.

As far as she’s concerned, after being betrayed by every adult in her life (Oakstar, Ravenwing, Frecklewish, Appledusk, the entire Clan), authority means absolutely nothing to her. She’s already almost drowned and lost her family. So what could be worse than that?

Yes, Thistleclaw manipulates her emotions by feeding into her hatred for ThunderClan and the Warrior Code using tailored words and her anger to drive her further for his own gain. But she doesn’t make it easy for him. She’s stubborn, resistant and rebellious in ways he didn’t expect her to push back.

Does he try to beat her into submission because he’s an abusive asshole? Yes.

Does physical punishment work on her? Absolutely not.

She doesn’t cower, just gets angry and retaliates. If he hits her, she hits back. Hard. He pushes. She shoves.

Does she listen sometimes and relies on him as a guiding figure? Is she highly impressionable? Absolutely, but on her own terms. She often finds loopholes and outmaneuvers him with full out sass. She's Mapleshade's daughter afterall.

The only reason Thistleclaw hasn’t outright killed or maimed her is because she’s Mapleshade’s daughter and too valuable to give up. And to Thistleclaw’s frustration, she’s actually thriving and excelling under his training. She still trusts him enough to follow his directions and is dependent on him—just not in the way he'd like. Thistleclaw can’t help but begrudgingly respect her unbreakable spirit.

He can mold her, but he can’t break her.

So if anyone is being bullied, it’s Thistleclaw. Lol

I think you’d really enjoy the "Thistleclaw’s Bullying" tag I have! You can see some of Petalkit’s sass in action!

Thanks for the ask!

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers : 2x06 The Choice (Part 1)

Welcome back, Gentle Readers, to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

Time for an entire episode centered around the Anthony/Kate/Edwina triangle. Yay? You know what really is the most fascinating, though? There's a lot of Pen and Colin in this episode and yet it feels so disconnected from the main story.

Which. Look, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be sitting here doing this if I hadn't been having fun dissecting this show. But one of it's faults is the fact that it doesn't seamlessly blend its story lines together. Season 1 tried when they had Daphne and Marina's stories merge a bit at the end. But all of the Lady Whistledown stuff, Colin's arc, Pen and Eloise, Eloise and her publisher boy, it's just on another show as the Kanthany stuff. And yes, I realize the Queen is something that does tie all of it together. And sometimes the family scenes do get things right. But for an ensemble show, sometimes these plot lines feel just a little too disconnected that it makes it jarring when they intersect. (And yes - I have had this issue with all three seasons now.) Anyway... enough of my diatribe.

Bachelor Party

Oh, this scene. I love a good ABC Brothers scene - I hope they still manage to have them post-Season 4. Anyway, while Kate and Edwina are reflecting on love and their changing lives while they have their girl night, the boys are having a drink and playing pool. And I just think the presence of the pool table in Bridgerton house (I mean, I assume that's where they are? it looks like Anthony's study, and it doesn't look like it's at a bar, so...) is really funny. Like, they hauled that thing in for this one scene and is never to be seen again. I wonder which of them is the best pool player. Hmmm.

Also - Season 2 is just full of a lot of games isn't it? Fencing, pall mall, pool. Is it a metaphor of all the games Kate and Anthony play??? Okay, I'm probably stretching there, but it is kind of fun to pick out threads like this.

Anyway, back to Colin. Anthony's being moody. Benedict is being snippy. And Colin is just hanging back being the little sass master he usually is -- teasing Benedict for drinking too much and sniding at Anthony for being a sourpuss. It's amusingly endearing. I love their dynamics so much.

Obviously, Anthony really isn't happy about who he is marrying, but there's an interesting kind of rift between him and his brothers. Anthony's story is all about obligations and duties, and feeling the weight and burden of having those things spelled out for you at birth. While Colin's story is all about feeling adrift and feeling as if he has no purpose. Anthony envies Colin (and Benedict)'s freedom to do as they choose, while Colin is envious that Anthony has some kind of meaning in his life. The grass is always greener.

Though, not that Colin is really being all that philosophical in this scene, as he is too busy being tipsy and playing pool, giggling in the background as his brothers take potshots at each other.

(I love this scene so much.)

Also, a couple technical-ish things to point out. I kind of love the way this scene is shot. The camera is meandering around, shakey and always moving, and is on angles all the time -- not only to make a nod at the amount of alcohol being consumed, but also to visually represent that disorienting and dizzying predicament Anthony has found himself in.

I also really love their outfits in this scene, just because they mesh and complement each other -- Anthony, btw, is in a dark navy blue, that is almost black, and almost looks like he's in mourning. Benedict in his deep red and golds, I haven't noticed Benedict's color patterns, huh, while Colin is in his usual pewter blues. Idk, historically accurate or not (and usually not) the costuming is just fascinating to look at to see how it represents their characters.

Also, also - Colin through the mirror shot! It doesn't mean anything, I was just amused by it. Just wait until I don't shut up about mirror imagery in Season 3. ;)

Hard to tell in the screenshot (and may bit slightly the lighting) but there is some gold embroidery in his clothing, and I'm fascinated by how much creams and yellows end up in Colin's wardrobe. I'm also fascinated by the cravats because he's going to start ditching them in Season 3 and... I have a whole lot of thoughts about that. More on that later, stay tuned...

Anyway, the scene moves on to Benedict continuing to rib Anthony, and teasing him about having an heir who will just be a mini-Anthony. And Colin jokes that hypothetical mini-Anthony will be just as much of a tyrant as his father. (And I mean, I do think Colin will actually end up having a good relationship with his nieces and nephews... this comment is merely a reflection of how much a pain in the ass older brother Anthony can be.)

Bottoms up, Colin! (This is the clearest shot I could get.)

They're toasting to the 'disagreeable sister' and, interestingly, Colin's toast is to besting her. I don't know that I even know what to do with that - other than reiterate that Colin does, indeed, have a competitive streak. And also he likes sticking it to Anthony almost as much as Benedict does.

Oh, also, there's a really tiny detail in here that I'm sure no one notices but me since I've now watched this scene like ten times in a row. At the beginning of the scene, Colin makes it a point to mention that the alcohol they're consuming is meant to be sipped. And then at the end, he downs it like a frat boy on a mission to get drunk, and chokes on it. Idk, I was amused. But considering how the rest of the episode goes, while I do think Colin very much appreciates a good drink, I don't think he spends a whole lot of time downing as much alcohol as Anthony does.

Whispers

I'll have to look up this director, because they very much are into all the camera movements this episode. Genevieve shows up for a house call, but it's really because Penelope has summoned her? The writing is slightly fuzzy. But the point is that Genevieve and Penelope need a moment to talk. And the camera swirls around them. The camera movement adds tension to the scene, as it's never settled and always suspicious.

(I went and looked, it's Tom Verica - who has worked a lot with Shonda Rimes. Interesting. Also -- the way they do directing for this show is also interesting, in that there's one director for two episodes a season. I'm going to watch for stylistic changes.)

Anyway... Penelope is seeking out info about Theo -- asking if Genevieve if she knows anything about him. Genevieve doesn't, but she picks up on the fact that Penelope is panicking slightly, and does a little herself. She tells Pen that her business is too important to let little things slide, and Penelope reassures her that her business is also important, and she'd definitely let Genevieve know if something is up.

The camera lands on Penelope and pushes in when Penelope lets it be known firmly that Lady Whistledown is not a joking matter, though she doesn't really see a problem yet.

Btw, the scoring is tense and ominous here, but comes to a point when Portia enters the scene. I love these technical details so much! It just adds so much to the drama of it.

Portia doesn't understand why Genevieve is there, but Genevieve is quick to cover saying she meant to deliver something to the Bridgerton house instead.

I love Penelope's abrupt change of demeanor. Two seconds earlier, she was hardened business woman trying to protect her interests, and while still very young, able to be an equal peer with Genevieve. And then her mother appears, and she is youthful, dutiful, childlike Penelope again, all smiles and innocence. I'm just so fascinated by performances today, apparently.

As Genevieve leaves, Penelope faces away from her mother to watch the modiste leave, her face falling, a look of worry on it. Meanwhile, Portia walks by scoffing at the fact that a woman runs her own business -- stating it's no wonder her mind is scattered. An obvious judgment, and an ironic statement since Pen, too, is a woman running her own business.

Btw, despite the fact that the previous episode made it a point that the Featheringtons are no longer getting invitations to things, they're on their way to the Bridgerton wedding. Did the Queen decide to just invite everyone then? Huh.

Pre-Wedding

What being in fandom feels like sometimes...

Ah, Bridgerton memes, you will never not be funny.

Violet is trying her best to get a move on of things -- they have Anthony's wedding to attend! I love the family chaos of it all.

Colin is hung. over. The light bothering him. His family being too loud. The stinging headache. (Ngl, it's kinda funny) I LOVE Violet's remark to Benedict -- 'Whatever you've done to your brother, undo it.' It is such a mom line and I love it so much.

Colin comments that he doesn't have the same capacity for alcohol as his brothers. And I mean, this checks. Anthony was downing bottles of alcohol last season, and Benedict gives off more fratboy energy. Unlike his brothers, Colin is usually more in tune with living with his feelings, and doesn't usually use narcotics to suppress them. It's really only when they get extreme does he reach out for something external (such as getting high in Greece or getting incredibly trashed in season 3).

Casual drunkeness isn't Colin's style.

Benedict's suggestion for the hangover, however, is more alcohol! Is this payback for Colin getting Benedict high? Or just amusement on his half? Idk, it's interesting. But Colin is going to take it. I want to point out, now, that Colin is drinking in nearly every scene of this episode, and I do think there's more to it than just an attempt at nursing a hangover.

We'll get there. For now, we have a wedding to get to!! :)

[writing-until-i-drop]

Something About The Moon Brings Us Together | Ch. 7

read it on ao3

Previous Chapter

masterlist

Buck was waiting for the day that Eddie came clean about being a werewolf. The entire 118 pack had scented it on him during his first day but he hadn’t brought it up or taken Bobby up on his offer to join them for their full moon night in the mountains. As it turns out, Christopher was going to force his father’s hand because in the middle of Buck’s living room was a half-transformed and terrified child.

Or: The one where Buck takes care of the Diaz boys, especially when Christopher turns out to be a werewolf too.

The 118 family gets around to paying out their Buddie betting pool and Eddie makes a deal with Buck.

a/n: Sorry I disappeared for a week BUT here is almost 2900 words to help you forgive me <3

Eddie kept Buck close, an arm around the taller man’s waist, occasionally stopping their walk back to the cabin for kisses. All of the earlier panic had been silenced the moment Buck said I love you back, a confirmation that settled deep in his chest. Buck had been eager to please as usual and Eddie had no complaints about getting a blowjob in the woods but he was looking forward to getting Buck home so he could repay the favor. Had Eddie ever had gay sex before? Absolutely not. But he was sure he could figure it out.

Christopher was going to be excited about the news of his dad and Buck dating, the kid already saw Buck as a second dad, and this was just further confirmation that all of these years playing house, wishing that Buck didn’t have to go to his loft at the end of the night, were a dress rehearsal for the real thing. 

“Oh my God,” Buck laughed, “Those assholes bet on us.” As they came into the clearing, the adults of the pack were standing on the back porch, obviously exchanging money. 

“Are you really surprised?” Eddie sassed even though he felt embarrassment creep up his neck. Buck kissed his shoulder, settling the nerves before they could take hold.

“I’m more surprised Chimney didn’t spill the beans before now.” 

“And here comes the happy couple now,” Hen announced with a flourish of her hands. “I’m not going to ask why you’re covered in mud.” 

“Why, you don’t want to take bets on it?” Eddie rolled his eyes. Not a single one of them seemed embarrassed in the least. “So, who won?” Hen clapped her hands together in excitement as she began to explain.

“Our big winner was Bobby, picking the right time frame for you getting together.”

“Pops!” Buck gasped, “Seriously?” 

“I make no apologies but I will make mac and cheese for you during the next shift.” Buck folded faster than a house of cards, 

“Deal, you’re forgiven.” Yep. That was his boyfriend/husband, easily bought with a home cooked dinner. Especially if the person cooking was Bobby.

“Karen bet that it would be Buck who convinced Eddie to join us for the full moon, Chimney bet that there would be a claiming before a love confession, sorry, Maddie.” Maddie huffed, flipping off her husband who grinned in return.

“That’s why you were pressing me to confess when we got here?” Buck sounded a bit betrayed, a small pang of sadness echoing through their bond. Eddie tried to purposefully send emotions over the bond, pushing love and affection Buck’s way only to receive it in return seconds later.

“To be fair, I called your crush on Eddie the same week that you met and have been trying to get you to come clean ever since.” 

“That long, huh?” Eddie teased softly, kissing Buck’s cheek and then again when his cheeks turned pink beneath Eddie’s lips. 

“Shut up.” 

-

The drive down the mountain was similar to how the drive up had been days before. Except Christopher’s questions centered around when Buck was going to move in with them and if he was going to be taking over all of the cooking duties from now on, and just like before, Eddie was listening intently to the answers as well. Then the Diaz boys fell asleep, Eddie’s hand on his thigh once again, and this time Buck could enjoy the feeling instead of freaking out about it. 

“Stay the night?” Eddie asked when they got to his house, waiting until Christopher was inside to press Buck against the Jeep and kiss him softly. “We can talk more about you moving in once Chris goes to bed.” Moving in with the Diaz boys would be a dream come true. He had been treating their house as his nest anyways, cooking, cleaning, taking care of Eddie and Chris, and how it could really be his. It was a little overwhelming if he was being honest.

“We have a shift in the morning,” Buck reminded him, sliding his hands into Eddie’s back pockets and giving his ass a squeeze just because he could. 

“So?” Eddie asked, kissing Buck’s neck. Buck relaxed against the Jeep, eyes fluttering shut, sparks of desire shooting through him. “We can save gas, commute together.” Yeah. Uh huh. Saving the environment. His brain was struggling to stay online as Eddie teased Buck’s neck with his teeth, “And if you can be quiet, maybe I can finally get my mouth on your cock.” 

“Fuck.” Eddie chuckled, nipping at Buck’s pulse. “Eddie, while I really, really, really want to do that,” Buck’s voice was an unconvincing, breathy whine. “We should probably be responsible and-” Buck pushed Eddie back by the shoulders but held on to keep him close. “Sorry, really hard to think when you’re pressed up against me like that.” 

“As much as I love that big brain of yours, baby, can we please just be stupid and in love for a little bit?” When Eddie pouted like that, who was Buck to tell him no? 

“Fine but I want Thai for dinner and you’re buying,” Eddie leaned in, closing his lips over Buck’s. Buck sighed into the kiss, cupping Eddie’s stubbled jaw, brushing his thumb over where he knew was a small scar from Eddie’s fighting days. If someone didn’t know it was there, they would never spot it, but Buck knew it was there because it was a reminder of the time when he had abandoned his family.

“Being sad while I’m kissing you is not reassuring, Buck,” Eddie broke away, his tone teasing but there was uncertainty in his eyes that tugged at Buck’s heart strings. 

“I was thinking about the lawsuit,” Eddie’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I know, not exactly horny time material.” 

“I forgave you for that a long time ago,” Eddie pressed a quick kiss to Buck’s lips, once, twice, three times. “Now come on, Chris is going to need someone to help him with his science homework and you know it’s not going to be me.” 

-

Luckily for Eddie, Christopher actually volunteered to go to bed early. Christopher had spent all of dinner telling stories about what they had missed on their “run through the woods” and reopening the line of questioning of when Buck was going to move in. What caught Eddie by surprise was when Chris asked if Buck could hang back a second after he got into bed. 

A few minutes later, Buck came out with tears in his eyes, with what Eddie was coming to recognize as his “calming” scent heavy in the air. Buck didn’t say a word, dropping down on the couch beside Eddie and burying his face into Eddie’s neck. 

They had always been close, trading casual touches, but this level of physical affection was a lot different than that. Hell, even with Shannon he hadn’t been overly touchy. But now that he had a free pass to have his hands on Buck? Eddie was surprised how easy and addicting it was to give and receive affection.

“He made me pinky swear that no matter what happens between me and you, that I’d always be his Buck. I mean,” Buck sniffled. “This morning I was worried you’d never let me see him again.” Fuck that hurt. Buck really thought he’d take Christopher away from him? Of course he did. Buck had a self-deprecating streak a mile wide and abandonment issues that worked in tandem to fill Buck’s head with depressing thoughts.

“I’d never do that to you, no matter what happened,” Eddie reassured Buck, kissing his blonde curls. Tomorrow Buck would probably gel them down and Eddie would miss them, counting down the minutes until they got off shift and he could run his fingers through Buck’s hair to loosen the product enough to bring them back to life. “No take backsies, remember?” Eddie’s tease was rewarded with a soft chuckle from Buck and his wolf purred, feeling the contentment roll off of mate. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go to bed.” 

“Like sleep bed or bed bed?” Buck asked, lips grazing over Eddie’s pulse point, sending a shiver of desire through the alpha. “Because I seem to remember being promised something if I stayed.” Buck’s sweet scent perfumed the air and Eddie knew Buck was thinking about Eddie’s mouth on his cock. 

Eddie chuckled, low and rough. He grabbed Buck’s hips tightly, holding him in place as he grinded up against the omega, relishing in the soft groan Buck breathed against Eddie’s neck. 

“You’re right, baby,” Eddie placed an open mouthed kiss on Buck’s neck, feeling Buck’s rapid heartbeat. It drove Eddie crazy knowing that not only could he get this reaction out of Buck but he could also enjoy it. “You’ve been so good to me and to Chris over the last few days,” Eddie’s grinds didn’t stop and neither did his slow and methodical attack on Buck’s neck. Buck’s scent got stronger with his arousal and Eddie imagined that his own was doing the same from the way Buck was breathing him in. “And I think you deserve some thanks for being so good.” 

Buck shivered, letting out a soft whine. Buck tried to move his hips, trying to speed up the pace of the grinds but Eddie held him steady, taking control of the situation. 

“Why don’t you go to the bedroom and I’ll be in in a second to show you how much I appreciate you.” 

Buck didn’t have to be told twice. He nipped at Eddie’s shoulder where he knew the mating bite laid beneath Eddie’s shirt, drawing out a groan from his alpha, before practically running to the bedroom. Buck pulled off his shirt and pants and crawled into bed, positioning himself upright against the pillows. 

This was far from his first time in Eddie’s bedroom but now that he had a claim - well, an official claim - to the Diaz boys, the comforting feeling of Eddie’s scent all around him was even more comforting. Technically, he wasn’t due his next heat for a month but he felt the familiar need to make a nest with the soft blankets and pillows on the bed kicking up in his chest but he pushed it down. It must have just been a side effect of being recently mated. 

Buck was squirming to stay still and be patient, waiting for Eddie to come into the bedroom. Patience had never been his strong suit but Eddie had called him good, not once, but twice, and he was determined to continue being good. When Eddie finally did come into the bedroom, he looked absolutely delicious, leaning up against the door frame with his arms crossed. Buck swallowed hard, squirming even more under Eddie’s intense gaze. 

“You look so good in my bed,” Eddie’s voice was low and rough and doing things to Buck, who was hanging onto the last thread of his sanity with both hands. “I…I think you should be in it every night.” 

Buck’s brain went a little fuzzy at Eddie’s words, trying to wrap his head around them. Buck had always been the impulsive one. Moving into Abby’s place, asking people to move in with him when he wasn’t even sure if he loved them, and Eddie was the guy who had a panic attack at the idea of being in a ready-made family with Ana. 

So for Eddie to be the one asking Buck to move in after all of the rapidly life changes in the past few days, it was a lot for Buck to wrap his head around. But really, in what universe would Buck ever say no to Eddie?

“Okay, yeah,” Buck nodded, digging his fingers into the blankets in anticipation. “Is it like a, I should break my lease tomorrow kind of “you should be in my bed every night” or more of a “I want you to come over but afterwards you should still go home” kind of thing?” Buck stammered, his nerves getting the best of him. “Because I’m okay with whatever you want… I mean, do you-” 

“Buck,” Eddie’s amused voice caught his attention, stopping his rambling. Eddie closed the distance between them, crawling onto the bed so that he was above Buck. His big, brown eyes were soft and full of adoration, making Buck’s heart flutter. “I, we, me and Christopher want you to stay. Will you stay?” 

“Always,” Buck didn’t even have to think about it. And he didn’t have the brain power to think about anything else as Eddie began to press open mouth kisses on Buck’s throat and down his chest. “E-Eddie.”

“Shh, you don’t want to wake up our son now do you?” Buck had to slam a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. He finally had everything he wanted and now all he had to do was be quiet and enjoy it. 

Buck knew that Eddie had never done anything with a man but the enthusiasm rolling off of the other man in waves was dizzying. Eddie didn’t hesitate before removing Buck’s sweats and boxers in one go, continuing his assault of messy kisses and love bites over Buck’s thighs.

“Jesus Christ,” Buck moaned, grabbing a pillow to shove on top of his face to keep himself muffled.

“You look so good covered in all of my marks,” Eddie whispered, almost reverently, tracing what Buck knew was a bite mark left over from when Eddie had pretty much used him as a chew toy during the full moon. “You look so pretty for me.” Pretty. That was a new one but it made Buck shiver all the same. He could hear the smugness in Eddie’s voice as he continued teasing, pressing kisses everywhere but where Buck needed him most. “You like that, huh? You like being my pretty, little…omega.” 

“Fuck,” Buck grunted, his hips giving a little thrust at the words. Eddie chuckled, sounding proud of himself for figuring out what to say to get Buck all worked up. Buck put the pillow down, glaring playfully at Eddie who was looking smug. “You’re an assh-” His words turned into a groan that he needed to stifle as Eddie licked a firm stripe up the underside of Buck’s angry, weeping cock. 

“I’m sorry, baby, what were you saying?” Oh God, that bastard. Buck flipped him off with the hand that wasn’t covering his mouth and Eddie just grinned wider. Buck watched as Eddie began to teasingly lick and kiss his cock, trying his best to keep his noises quiet. “My perfect omega, all needy and desperate for me.” 

Buck’s soul nearly left his body as Eddie began taking inch-by-inch of Buck into his warm, wet mouth. Fuck. Buck was going to die right there with Eddie’s mouth on his cock and even his ghost was going to be embarrassed by the inscription on his headstone. Here lies Evan Buckley, killed by a blowjob from his best friend. 

When Eddie got about half of Buck down his throat, Buck felt him gag, his throat constricting around Buck’s cock and he groaned at the feeling. Eddie came back up, pressing a kiss to the slick tip.

“Feeling good, baby?” Eddie asked, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice as he stroked Buck.

“So fucking good, Eds. Why are you so good at this?” Eddie’s cheeks went pink and Buck knew it had to do with more than just the compliment. “Eddie…”

“When I told you to come back here and wait for me, I might have googled how to give a blowjob.” Buck’s heart swelled at the idea of Eddie wanting to do a good job so much that he looked it up and it just made him love Eddie more.

“Eds, that’s-” Adorable. He was going to say adorable. At least he was before Eddie took Buck back into his mouth and sucked, hollowing his cheeks, effectively turning off higher brain function in Buck. He went boneless, biting down on his lip to keep his noises to a minimum as Eddie worked him over, seemingly desperate to show Buck what he had learned from the internet. 

It was over far too quickly for Buck’s liking, not embarrassingly so, but still. When he gasped and babbled, trying to tell Eddie to pull off, that he was going to cum, Eddie just doubled down until Buck released into his mouth. 

“Holy shit,” Buck panted, reaching for Eddie, who crawled up the bed and gave Buck a soft kiss. “I think you killed me.” 

Eddie laughed with his whole chest, smiling and guiding Buck to lay down with him. 

“I’ll take that as a good review then.” 

“Oh yeah, 10/10, 5 stars, A+,” Buck rambled until Eddie shut him up with another soft kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Eddie reached back to turn off the bedside lamp before snuggling close, holding Buck tight. Buck felt nothing but love, affection, and satisfaction through their mating bond and he let those feelings wash over him like warm, ocean waves, lulling him to sleep. 

Next Chapter

Taglist: @closetspngirl

[kathlare]

everything as it should be

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie's tour comes to a triumphant end in Los Angeles, a night filled with celebration, nostalgia, and personal reflection.

Wordcount: 4.1 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

full masterlist // request over here!

November 18th, 2024 - Los Angeles, CA

The lights at the KIA Forum were dimming, the crowd buzzing with that electric pre-show energy—like the entire building was holding its breath. People were flooding into their seats, the LED screens lighting up with shimmering visuals from Amelie’s world tour aesthetic—dreamy, chaotic, a little cinematic.

Lando leaned back against the velvet-lined barrier of the VIP section, dressed in black from head to toe, signature curls slicked back just enough, but still messy like he didn’t try too hard. He looked effortlessly cool, though he was a bit fidgety—thumb brushing the ring on his finger, eyes flickering toward the stage entrance every few minutes.

Around him, the section was packed with a familiar mix of people. Amelie’s family—Callum already getting into an argument with Jack about who was going to cry first. Elysia had just stolen Joe’s popcorn. Stella was somewhere behind them, dressed in an all-denim fit that only she could make look effortlessly hot. Celebrities milled about too—actors, singers, influencers—some actually friends, others here for the clout. Jaden and Josh were already tipsy, betting on whether Amelie would cry during her second song.

Lando rolled his eyes fondly. God, this crowd.

He smiled when a teenage girl passed by and pointed at him, whispering something to her friend. He was used to the stares now—especially after Miami. After that chaotic, emotional, perfect podium when Amelie ran past the FIA security like a bat out of hell to kiss him. Public had never been part of the plan. But it just… happened. And he hadn’t regretted it for a single second.

He was halfway through checking the time on his phone when someone from Amelie’s team appeared at his side—Zoë, her assistant, in all black with a clipboard in one hand and a comm device in the other. She leaned in with a whisper that immediately snapped him out of his chill.

—Lando. She’s asking for you.—

He blinked. —She’s what? Is everything okay?—

—She just said she needs you. She sounded fine. But, y’know… it’s Amelie. Could be a meltdown, could be about lip gloss.—

Lando didn’t wait to hear more. He handed his drink to Josh without looking, muttered —Hold this, don’t drink it— and was already weaving through the crowd toward backstage. His mind was racing, every possible scenario flying through his head; what if she was freaking out? What if she was sick? What if the nerves were too much? It wasn’t the first time she’d spiraled before a show. He’d seen it all before—the panic attacks, the trembling hands, the pressure crushing her lungs.

He pushed through the last curtain and then...

Stopped.

Because there she was.

Amelie stood in front of a full-length mirror, already in her opening outfit—this short, shimmery, sequined number that sparkled every time she moved, her hair curled and cascading down her back, her heels high and dangerous. She was glowing. Radiant. Not an ounce of panic in her. Just… pure mischief.

The second their eyes met, she beamed. —Hi, Lan.—

He squinted at her. —You’re fine.—

—Mmm-hmm.— She spun toward him, taking a step forward with that little sway she knew drove him crazy. —But I wasn’t going on without my good luck kiss.—

He groaned. —Are you fucking kidding me, Ames? You scared the shit out of me.—

She just grinned wider, unapologetic. —Oops.—

He closed the distance between them in two strides, cupping her cheek, pressing a soft peck to her lips. —There. Happy?—

But she didn’t let go of his shirt. Her fingers curled into the fabric and she raised a brow. —That’s not what I meant.—

And before he could sass her, Amelie pulled him in and kissed him—really kissed him. Slow and hot and unbothered by the people moving behind the curtains. She kissed him like she had all the time in the world, tongue teasing against his, fingers sliding up into the curls at the nape of his neck, and Lando made this low sound that was borderline indecent.

—Jesus fucking Christ, Ames,— he muttered against her lips. —You’re gonna give me a heart attack.—

She giggled, smug and glowing. —You love it.—

—I do. But I also love not being hard in jeans in front of your dad, who is ten meters away.—

Amelie cackled and leaned back just enough to look at him. —You’ll survive. You’ve got like, Formula 1 reflexes. Just cross your legs or something.—

—You’re evil.—

—You’re obsessed with me.—

Lando snorted. —You’re not wrong.—

She bit her lip, eyes flicking down to his mouth. —Say that again.—

—What? That you’re off your head?—

—No.— She moved her hand to his heart, over where it was beating fast. —The other part.—

Lando softened. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in, lips brushing hers as he whispered it this time, just for her:

—I’m in love with you.—

Amelie’s breath hitched, her smile faltering just for a second—but only because it turned into something so tender it made his chest ache.

—Lan,— she whispered.

—Yeah?—

She kissed him again.

This time, slower.

Less playful.

More “you’re mine and I’m yours and I’m about to go sing my heart out and pretend I’m not thinking about you every fucking second.”

Her mouth fit perfectly against his, like it always did—like no time had passed since Mexico, since the first time she kissed him again after everything broke. He could still taste the cherry balm she always wore before a show, feel the smile tugging at the edge of her lips. His hands moved down, over the shimmer of her waist, grounding them both.

When she pulled back, her lips were flushed and her eyes sparkled.

—Okay,— she breathed, licking her lips. —Now I’m ready.—

—You sure? Because I think you forgot your entire vocal warm-up.—

—Who needs warm-ups when my boyfriend’s literally better than an espresso shot?— she teased, stepping back reluctantly.

Lando groaned. —You can’t say things like that before going on stage. That’s illegal.—

She winked, already turning toward the side curtain as her team buzzed around them, giving countdowns and final checks.

—Catch me after the encore and maybe I’ll commit another felony.—

—Ames.—

—Lan.—

—You’re a menace.—

—You’re in love with a menace.—

He laughed, hand dragging through his curls. —Yeah. Unfortunately for me, I fucking am.—

Just before she disappeared behind the last drape, she looked over her shoulder one last time—this tiny smile on her lips like she knew exactly how ruined he was.

And he stood there, grinning like an idiot, heart full to the brim, thinking, Yeah. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The lights in the Forum went black. The crowd erupted. And the first note of Amelie’s set rang out.

She was magic. And she was his.

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

liked by stelladayman, arianagrande, and others

ameliedaymanupdates: @ameliedayman via IG story — that’s a wrap on the Short n Sweet US leg, babes!! she served vocals, tears, glitter & giggles coast to coast 💌✨ time to let Europe feel the chaos 😭🌍

View all 9,017 comments

moonlightlan: girl u better be packing LANDO in that suitcase → flowerboyzack: @moonlightlan bro he’s def already zipped up in her carry-on 😭✈️

ameliecore_: am i supposed to move on from this tour now? like be normal? → starcheescake: @ameliecore_ i’m still mentally in tampa idk what to tell you → lanfan23: @ameliecore_ tell ur therapist not me 😭

sparklemiss: inglewood was INSANE i was crying and dancing and sobbing and throwing up → bittersugarbaby: @sparklemiss so true bestie i also had a religious experience during espresso

fl0ralpaddock: i just KNOW she kissed lando backstage after that last bow → icedmatchagrl: @fl0ralpaddock or before. or both. or WHILE. idk i don’t make the rules

bigbootybaku: tour might be over but this delulu ride is NOT → yessiamcrying: @bigbootybaku choo choo bitch next stop EUROPE 😭

ameliesfluffycat: i love her but i’m gonna need like 6 business days to emotionally recover

lanmeliefan9000: the fact that this TOUR is over but my obsession is not → glamlovesthegrid: @lanmeliefan9000 your options are stream the whole setlist or perish

sadie_dreamz: i’m not emotionally prepared for the euro leg i need a break → ames_babe: @sadie_dreamz girl we’ve been in a constant state of emotional damage since opening night

larry_socks32: the way she made me laugh, cry, scream and throw up in the same show 😭 → sweetnscreaming: @larry_socks32 the full Amelie Dayman experience

amelieinheels: US leg is over. my rent’s due. my heart’s broken. where’s my support group

racerbabe88: imagine being lando and getting the post-tour clingy version of her 😭 → sweetnfast: @racerbabe88 that man’s living his dream and you know it 💅

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The night was a whirlwind of lights, music, and flashing cameras as the final notes of Amelie’s set reverberated through the KIA Forum. The North American leg of her Short n' Sweet tour had come to an end. She stood on stage, the cheers of thousands of fans still ringing in her ears as she waved to the crowd. Her heart pounded, a mixture of excitement, exhaustion, and a sense of bittersweet finality settling in. The tour was over for now, but the memories, the highs and lows, the connections she'd made with her crew, fans, and family, would stay with her forever.

Lando stood in the back, watching her with a proud smile. He’d been by her side for the last few shows, from Phoenix to Los Angeles, a welcome presence as her tour came to a close. For the past few days, they had fallen into a rhythm, a mix of flirty banter, quiet moments, and the unspoken understanding that their relationship was something more than just two people casually dating. They had history, a friendship that turned into something more after a rocky past. And now, here they were, together again, this time for real.

As the crowd began to disperse, Amelie made her way offstage, her hair damp with sweat, her eyes sparkling with the afterglow of a successful show. She caught sight of Lando leaning against a pillar, a jean jacket draped casually over his shoulders. He held a bouquet of yellow tulips in one hand, a cheeky grin spreading across his face when he saw her approach.

—Aww, are those for me?— Amelie teased, her eyes lighting up as she looked at the flowers.

—Of course,— Lando replied with a wink, offering the bouquet to her. —Wouldn’t be a proper night without them, would it?—

Amelie accepted the flowers, inhaling their sweet fragrance as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. —You’re the best,— she murmured, her voice soft.

—You’re the best,— he countered, placing a kiss on the top of her head as he pulled her into a hug. —Did I make you proud out there?—

She pulled back slightly, eyes sparkling. —Always. You were amazing.—

He smiled, but there was a hint of playfulness in his gaze. —You were the one who got the crowd screaming, Ames. I just showed up and stood there.—

Amelie laughed, rolling her eyes. —You and your modesty.— She wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning into him as they walked toward the exit. —What do you say we go to that after-party? I’m in the mood to get a little tipsy and celebrate.—

Lando’s eyes lit up. —You know I’m always down for that.—

The after-party was at a cozy bar in downtown Los Angeles, filled with the buzz of the tour crew, her family, and a few close friends. Music thumped in the background, and the energy was electric. Lando and Amelie were already a little tipsy, their laughter and teasing creating a bubble around them as they made their way through the crowd.

Amelie found herself standing close to Lando, their hands occasionally brushing against each other, a touch here, a lingering glance there. There was something intoxicating about the way they were together—so comfortable, so in sync. She could feel the tension in the air, the silent acknowledgment of the chemistry between them that had only grown since they’d reunited.

—Remember when we used to sneak around?— Amelie asked, leaning in slightly, her voice low and teasing.

Lando’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. —How could I forget? The whole ‘nobody knows we’re dating’ thing was a lot of fun.—

Amelie chuckled. —Yeah, until we were both miserable and avoided talking to each other for a year.—

—That wasn’t fun,— he agreed, his expression softening. —But I’m glad we fixed things, Ames. This— he gestured between them —this is worth the wait.—

—Mm,— she agreed, her eyes locking onto his. —I’m glad too. But…— She hesitated for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. —Are you sure about this? About us?—

Lando raised an eyebrow, his expression serious for a moment. —You know I am, Ames. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.— He took a step closer, his hand brushing the side of her arm. —Are you sure?—

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him lightly on the lips. —Yeah. I’m sure.— Her eyes softened, and she let out a quiet laugh. —Just making sure we’re on the same page.—

—You and me, always on the same page,— Lando murmured, kissing her forehead as they moved to the bar to grab a drink.

As the night wore on, the crowd at the bar grew rowdier, and Amelie found herself a little tipsier than she had anticipated. She leaned into Lando, her hand resting on his chest as she glanced at him mischievously.

—Let’s leave this place,— she said, her voice playful. —I don’t want to stay here any longer.—

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. —Where do you want to go, then?—

—Somewhere quiet,— she said, tugging at his arm. —Let’s go to the Hollywood sign. There’s a viewpoint where you can see all of LA. I want to talk. Just you and me.—

Lando looked at her, his expression softening. —Alright. Let’s go.—

They slipped out of the bar, quietly making their way to the car. The drive to the Hollywood sign viewpoint was filled with easy conversation and laughter, but as they reached the spot, the world around them quieted. The city lights of Los Angeles twinkled beneath them, the vast expanse of the city stretching out into the horizon.

Amelie leaned against the railing, her hands gripping it tightly as she gazed out at the city. —It’s beautiful,— she murmured, her voice soft.

Lando stood beside her, his hand brushing against hers. —Yeah, it is,— he agreed, his tone serious. —It’s nice to get away from the chaos every now and then.—

Amelie looked at him, her eyes searching his face. —How are you feeling, Lan? With the championship and everything. You’ve got the Las Vegas race coming up, and Max is ahead again. That’s gotta be eating you alive.—

Lando exhaled slowly, his gaze distant as he looked out over the city. —Yeah, it’s tough. I’m giving it everything I’ve got, but sometimes I wonder if it’s enough. I’m fighting for something that feels just out of reach, and it’s hard not to think about what happens if I don’t win.—

Amelie reached over, gently placing her hand on his arm. —You’re doing everything you can, Lan. You’ve already come so far. You’ve made it this far for a reason. And even if it doesn’t happen this year, you’re still incredible. You know that, right?—

Lando looked down at her hand on his arm, then met her gaze. There was an almost imperceptible vulnerability in his eyes. He gave a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. —I know you think that, but it doesn’t stop the pressure. It doesn’t stop the feeling that I’m not enough, no matter how hard I try. Max is just... untouchable this season. It’s frustrating. You fight, you race, you put everything into it, but it still doesn’t feel like it’s ever quite enough, you know?—

Amelie nodded, her heart aching for him. She had seen him so focused, so determined, but she knew that self-doubt crept in, especially when things didn’t go as planned. She had her own battles, her own insecurities, but Lando was always so strong, so confident in everything he did. Seeing him like this made her want to shield him from the weight he carried.

—You don’t have to do it all alone, Lan,— she said softly, her fingers brushing gently against his arm. —You’ve got your team, your fans, and me. We all believe in you, and honestly? We all know how damn good you are. Whether you win this championship or not, you’ve already proven more than anyone ever expected. You’re not just a good driver; you’re one of the best. That’s what matters. You’re enough just as you are.—

Lando turned to face her fully now, his gaze intense. —I wish I could believe that, Ames. I really do. But with every race, I just feel like I’m not there yet. And then there’s all the noise, people doubting, the haters online. It gets under your skin, no matter how much you try to block it out. Every little mistake is magnified, every slip-up a potential disaster. And all I can think about is the feeling of losing again. I don’t know if I can handle that. Not after everything I’ve put into this season.—

Amelie reached up and cupped his face gently, forcing him to look her in the eye. —Listen to me, Lando. You’re not defined by the things you can’t control. You’re defined by how hard you fight. You’ve been through so much already. That drive, that passion, that’s what makes you incredible. The championship? It’s a result, not your worth. And as for the haters? Fuck them. You’ve got people who love you for who you are, for the person you’ve always been. No one else matters.—

Lando exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment as he leaned into her touch. When he opened his eyes again, they were softer, more at ease. —You really are amazing, you know that? You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better.—

Amelie chuckled, lowering her hand. —It’s because I know you, Lan. I’ve always known you. And it’s not just me. You’ve got this. I’ve seen the way you race, the way you never give up. You’re going to be okay, no matter what happens. And hey, you’re still young. The championship will come for you. I’m sure of it.—

Lando smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes this time. He reached out to take her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. —You always know how to pull me out of my own head. It’s like your superpower or something.—

Amelie laughed, the sound light and musical against the quiet backdrop of the night. —Well, someone has to keep you grounded, Mr. Formula 1 Superstar.— She nudged him playfully, her grin infectious.

—Oh, don’t start with that,— he groaned, his accent softening the words. —I get enough of that from everyone else.—

They both fell into a comfortable silence, staring out at the city. The lights of Los Angeles twinkled below, a sea of gold and silver that seemed endless. The moment felt intimate, the kind of quiet that didn’t demand words but carried a weight of understanding between them.

After a few minutes, Amelie spoke again, her voice quieter this time. —Can I tell you something?—

Lando glanced at her, his expression attentive. —Of course.—

She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip before continuing. —Sometimes, I feel like I’m not enough either. With my music, with the expectations people have of me... even with us. Like, I’m always trying to prove something, and no matter how much I do, it never feels like it’s enough.—

Lando’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, a comforting gesture. —Ames, you’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. Your music means so much to so many people. You’ve built something incredible, something real. And with us...— He paused, searching for the right words. —You don’t have to prove anything. You’re more than enough. You always have been.—

She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. —Sometimes I worry that I’m too much for you. That my life, my schedule, my everything... that it’s too much for us to handle. And I know we’ve been through so much already, but it still scares me.—

Lando stepped closer, his free hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from her face. —Hey, listen to me. You’re not too much. If anything, you’re everything I want. Yeah, your life is crazy, and so is mine. But we’ve figured it out before, and we’ll keep figuring it out. I’m not going anywhere, Ames. I’m in this. With you. For you.—

Her breath hitched, and she let out a small, watery laugh. —You always know exactly what to say.—

—It’s because I mean it,— he said softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest as she took a deep breath. —I love you, you know that?—

Lando froze for a moment before his arms tightened around her. —I love you too, Ames. Always have.—

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a teasing smile. —Even when I was ignoring you and being a pain in the ass?—

He laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet night. —Especially then. You’re my pain in the ass, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.—

Amelie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. —You’re impossible.—

—And you’re stuck with me,— he shot back, his smile playful.

They stood there for a while longer, the city below them and the stars above, wrapped in their own little world. They shared stories, laughed at old memories, and teased each other relentlessly. It felt easy, natural, like they were just two people who had found their way back to each other after everything.

When the chill of the night began to settle in, Lando draped his jacket over her shoulders, pulling her close as they made their way back to the car.

—So, the Hollywood sign, huh?— Lando said, glancing at her with a smirk as they climbed in.

—It’s romantic, isn’t it?— Amelie shot back, her tone mock-defensive.

—It’s definitely something,— he teased, starting the car.

She stuck her middle finger out at him, her laughter filling the car as they drove back toward the city.

And as they made their way through the quiet streets of Los Angeles, hands intertwined, hearts full, Amelie couldn’t help but feel that, for the first time in a long time, everything was exactly as it should be.

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

liked by stelladayman, arianagrande, and others

ameliedayman: That’s a wrap on the North American leg of the Short n’ Sweet tour!!!!! I have always dreamt of bringing this tour to life but it was even better than i could have imagined because of every crowd that showed up and gave 100% of their energy and time. best dressed crowds on the market. funniest signs l’ve ever seen. every lyric and background vocal sung to perfection. i could not ask for better fans💞i love you so so dearly

thank you to my hard working cast and crew that makes this show what it is. the attention to detail, the professionalism, and each and every personality on and off stage is what makes the SNS show so special.

cry because it’s over for now... but we can’t wait to see you in the new year Europe 💋💋💋

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landonorris: Can confirm: best dressed crowd because the star of the show is the best dressed. Also, you’re hot. → ameliedayman: @landonorris Someone’s trying to distract me. Save it for later, Lan. 😏 → georgerussell63: @landonorris Bro, we’re all blushing. Chill. → alex_albon: @georgerussell63 Speak for yourself. I’m inspired.

claudiasulewski: I see why everyone’s obsessed. You’re magic, Amelie 🌟 → ameliedayman: @claudiasulewski Claudia! Your kind words = my entire week made 🫶

f1stanpage: OKAY BUT THE WAY SHE'S TAKING OVER THE WORLD RN 🫶

amelieupdates: ICONIC doesn’t even cover it. North America was blessed 🫶 → ameliefanpage: @amelieuodates Europe’s turn. Y’all better scream loud for our girl 💋

hayesgrier: Crying bc I didn’t get to see a show, but living through these pics 😭 → ameliedayman: @hayesgrier There’s always Europe… front row? 👀 → landonorris: @ameliedayman Save the front row for me, baby. Hayes can watch from the back. 😏

minniemills: YOU WERE EVERYTHING. The vocals, the fits, the VIBES. Obsessed, truly. 🫶 → ameliedayman: @minniemills Minnie, I love you more than life. Let me know when we’re brunching again.

emiliamernes: Esto fue arte puro, Amelie. Europa no sabe lo que le espera 😍💃🏼 → ameliedayman: @emiliamernes ¡Gracias, bella! Nos vemos pronto, espero 💋

[literallysimjaeyun]

kenma hcs cuz i view him differently

(time skip ver.)

• sass god, will make you second guess everything decision you’ve ever made by one statement if u piss him off

• is actually a hell of a good cook but is picky as fuck

• when he was little up until the ripe age of 13 he had those plates that would separate all the food from each other, he didn’t like it when food got mixed and would claim it “takes away from his full eating experience”

• avid genshin player

• can actually be really funny when he’s in a comfortable environment (i.e, with close friends and family)

• spends most of his time in sweats and sweaters but when asked to he can and WILL out-dress you

• lowk was born into a loaded family. like his entire extended family lives in mansions n shii

• dabbles in the flute

• thinks toe shoes are fucking pointless and made an entire video essay on it in high school (is the reason he got internet famous)

• owns 2 cats, a black one and a calico one (obviously)

• used to be a lightweight but now can somehow chug beer after shot after beer and be un phased almost

• once streamed genshin for almost 24 hours

• will sit you down and explain the entirety of the fnaf lore because he memorized all of it (#projecting)

• favourite food is bread, just like, any type of bread, he fucking loves it

• i know hes canonically more closed off and doesn’t say much, but i feel like once he officially became a ceo something in him like turned and he suddenly started to become a pretty good spokesperson. he’d completely shut down almost completely afterwards tho. like he uses every fucking ounce of his social battery for events and meetings but then locks himself in his office or a small room w his headphones to help him recharge

• will go all out for halloween, no exceptions. he’s got a meeting? he’s dressing up. travelling? costume on. streams every year on halloween and plays horror games in the most intricate costumes (they all end up getting destroyed because of his tomfooleries during streams lol)

• he likes lofi, he’ll listen to it to fall asleep and when he’s working. but i feel like he’d also be a hyper pop type of guy too, maybe even sprinkle in some dad rock?? he doesn’t really go down rabbit holes for artists he just likes songs and adds them to a huge ass playlist

• chocolate ice cream truther, he loves that shit

• reading books doesn’t register in his brain. he can absolutely read!! but he can’t do books. comics, manga, news articles, paper work he can do!! but novels give him a hard time

• this lowk spicy but if hes doing the dirty, praise and hair pulling keep him going

• mans is a SUCKER for thighs. he just is.

• sneaker head tbh

• a strong believer in comfort sweaters

[gilly-moon]

Vlad Redemption Real (a glitch in time)

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS AAAAA putting them under a read more because major spoilers (there's a lot under there I'm so sorry I got carried away this comic is just really incredible)

Vlad coming to this decision on his own is what really makes it for me. The main crew never really asked him or expected him to change. For a lot of the comic, he's the butt of the joke and it's what he deserves. But then he witnessed Danny having his own emotional breakthrough. Being able to see how powerful Danny became after embracing his emotions and letting go of his inner turmoil...like, that did it. He finally let himself look inward too, recognizing his own faults and the hurt that he had caused himself all these years. The focus of the scene is Danny, but I love how clear it is that Vlad's entire perspective just shifted, too

The moment where he tells Dark Danny that because he's part-Plasmius too, that means he's full of emotions, and that he's full of fear......my jaw dropped. Vlad admitting that he's deeply afraid of being alone, and that he pursued ultimate power in the hopes it could fix his loneliness. Doing so hurt all of the people he wanted to have in his life, and made sure he would never recieve the love he so desperately wanted. He says this in front of all of the people that he hurt the most, and he doesn't ask for forgiveness from any of them.

(Also fear being Vlad's driving emotion behind his power, just....ruin me.)

BUT HE TAKES IT A STEP FURTHER. No one is suggesting that Dark Danny needs to overshadow someone as a solution to his unstable form. Vlad comes forward unprompted and offers himself up, as an apology. An apology to the people of his timeline that he hurt, and to Dark Danny. He isn't the Vlad that created Dark Danny, but he knows the potential to be that guy was always in him, so he takes the faults of that other Vlad on his own shoulders. And still, he isn't seeking forgiveness, just a second chance. More time, to do something good with his life before it's gone. Danny tells Vlad he still hates him, but thanks him, and the smile Vlad responds with is everything to me. They're not friends. The wounds he caused aren't healed. But that little thank you is proof that Vlad is already making a difference in the world

He gets to be a guardian to Dark Danny!!!! He gets a family!!!! And it's broken, and hurt, and kind of fucked up, but this is all he ever wanted, and he has the chance now to do better for himself and for Dan. He already understands the root of his problem, the pain and fear that has been driving him all these years. The path forward is gonna be messy and hard for him & Dan, but the first steps are the hardest, and he's already taken them.

All that being said, he better continue being an insufferable fruitloop. Never let the sass die, you silly vampire ghost man.

Sjfkxnskd wow sorry this response turned into a whole essay. This is what happens when you prompt a neurodivergent to talk about their hyperfixations. And I didn't even get into the pompep potential in all of this. Anyways I love Vlad more than ever and agit is perfection.