#Anthony my oc

[faux-ecrivain]

Frightened Ex x Yandere reader

“When Cupid gets it wrong, goodbyes can be messy.” - that private eye who worked for the HPD for thirty years from that one episode of Hawaï Five-O where that girl in a red dress died and the private eye was narrating the story

(Trigger warning: murder, death and amputation are mentioned/implied.)

(Also, you, the reader, are the yandere here)

(Sixteenth Official Post)

(Merry Christmas)

(Happy Holidays)

(name is Anthony)

          When you and Anthony first started dating he thought you were an absolutely wonderful person, he admired you and would go out of his way to please you. Then just 4 years into your relationship, you started to behave… strangely. You were more possessive and would often isolate him from his friends (regardless of gender).     

         Sometimes, you would makes jokes about locking him up and killing all his friends, which made him very uncomfortable. Luckily, after expressing his discomfort, you quit joking like that, but now he was wary around you and he was considering breaking up with you. However, when he expressed this decision to you, you informed him that you wouldn’t let him leave and would make sure he knew his place.

——————————————————————

   Anthony’s breath was muffled by his hands, his eyes squeezed shut as he prays that you won’t find him. He doesn’t know why you’re acting like this, treating him like a prisoner and trying to lock him away in your dreary, albeit big, house. He shuffles further into the closet, his knees up and his legs pulled close to his body. Tears fall down his face and he sniffles, what once was a beautiful, loving relationship, was now massacred beyond fixing.

         He listens as you creep through the hallway, he hears your ominous voice call out to him and he fights the urge to run into your arms. Yes, he’s scared, but often when he was scared you would be there to comfort him. Your footsteps grow closer, the floorboards creak and you stop in front of the closet. You taunt him, calling out for him, even though he’s certain you know he’s in there. “Anthony, baby, wheeere are yoou? Are you hiding from me?” Shivers wrack his body the moment he hears a haunting giggle escape your mouth. 

          “That’s not very nice, Anthony. Didn’t your mommy ever teach you manners?” Anthony’s tears fall faster as you bring up his mother, he’s sure you’ve done something to her, probably killed her. You begin moving again, the creaking of the floorboards lessen in volume and he assumes you’ve moved away from the closet. Still, he doesn’t leave and instead waits inside the closet for a matter of minutes. He listens diligently for your footsteps and hopes you won’t come back. 

          After at least 20 minutes have passed he cracks the closet door open, his eyes roam across the expanse of the hallway and his fear lessens once he sees the hall empty. He sneaks out of the closet, quietly closes the door behind him and sneaks in the direction opposite of the way that you went. For a moment, Anthony believes he can escape, he thinks he can make it to the door and run away from you. He thinks he came leave you behind, but he was wrong, so very wrong. 

          His heart stops when you call out to him, your voice smug and haughty. “There you are, baby, trying to escape, again?” He turns around and his body freezes as you approach. His heart beats erratically and he can barely form a single thought in his brain. Then he quickly snaps to when he realizes the distance between you two is slowly closing. He wills his legs to work and, when they do, he rushes off in a random direction. One that will hopefully allow him freedom or a moment’s salvation. 

         You groan when he runs off again, it was getting quite annoying and each time he ran it made you want to immobilize him. You snicker at the thought, but since you have no desire to traumatize him, more than you already have, you decide against such an idea. You stalk after him, taking your time as you knew he was likely lost in the maze of a house you own. Your throat vibrates as you begin to hum, a tune much too joyful for the present time. You hear Anthony crack open the door to the left wing of your house, well it isn’t actually your house, but does that really matter? 

          Anthony closes the heavy mahogany door behind him and wince at the loud slam it releases. He wrings his hands together and begins to walk down the darkened hallway, he’s never seen this part of the house before, it’s all worn down. He exhales and continues walking, his eyes glancing around his surroundings and taking in the strange decorations hanging up. Some of them seem entirely too old for such a modern house, some seem to be straight from the eighteenth century. 

          He doesn’t have time to dwell on your strange interior choices, as he hears the mahogany doors creak open and slam shut. His hearts begins to race, once more, and he knows you’re near. He fears that he might never escape and that you would catch him. He’s so scared, so frightened. He doesn’t know what to do, should he run or should he hide?

(I know everyone voted yes go back to my old style, but I didn’t know how else to write this oneshot. Don’t worry though, I’ll still listen to you guys and will continue writing in my old style, but I might also write this way.)

(Hope you enjoyed and hopefully you guys are excited for the next part!)

—————————————————-

(Don’t worry, I’m going to post all three (or two) endings, I just need to know which one you want first.)

(Expect another post around 12:30 this afternoon)

[wishfulsketching]

I won a battle against art and anatomy, so I decided to doodle something real quickly as a treat!

Show gives me props to use to make cute little moments? Yes please and thank you.

[katiekatdragon27]

A silly assortment of Flatland shitposts from yours truly~

Some of these are older than others lol.

Og images below cut:

Have a good one dudes!

[pagandaddybutart]

Two types of parents 🙄🙄

Ft. @ineffableparents azicrow babies Cherub & Jay :>

[ishomieokay]

Idolatry (Chapter 3)

18+ 5.3k homelander x hispanic oc, age difference, manipulation, breaking and entering, stalking, obsessive behaviour. part 3/?. AO3 link. part 1, part 2

Homelander's fooling around with a perky Latina almost twenty years his junior. She's looking for a daddy. He just wants a good fuck, and maybe to mess with Maeve's head. It's not going to end well.

The day after, it was as if nothing had happened. They were cordial but not overly friendly, maintaining a professional distance while shooting, careful in case they were overheard. From time to time, Aura María caught a glimpse of Homelander staring in her direction, but she couldn’t be sure if it was real or just a trick of her mind. She returned home late with a pounding headache, the lack of sleep and the long hours on set taking their toll.

It was Friday night, and she had no plans, which wasn’t unusual. Her party girl days were firmly behind her. Aura María felt a mixture of thankfulness and regret that things had never spiraled out of control even back then. Now, her routine was only occasionally interrupted by meetings with friends at overpriced coffee shops or the occasional night gala. Despite being relatively young, she sometimes felt inexplicably old.

She retrieved a pair of pajamas from her closet, laying them neatly on the bed next to her folded underwear, then made her way to the bathroom. She contemplated sending a text to Homelander as she sat in the tub, softly lip-syncing to a Ricardo Montaner song. Surely, permission had been granted when he provided her with his number. While his infatuation lingered, she reasoned, she could have some fun, even if that was all he wanted from her. She had no other prospects, after all.

Three years after arriving in the United States to work for Vought, Aura María still lacked a social life outside of her workplace. This was partly due to her commitment to warding off her many admirers. Cultural differences made it much more challenging to establish friendships, something she’d never excelled at even back home. She had been alone for a while and wasn’t particularly interested in changing that, especially when it came to romantic relationships.

Aura María had begun to question her sexual orientation when her 21st birthday came and went without a lover or even a fleeting interest in physical intimacy. It had occurred to her that she might be a lesbian or asexual. Homelander had proved her wrong in that regard. She did have needs, and now that they'd been satisfied, however briefly, she was aware of them in a way she'd never been before.

She took hold of her breast, retracing the path Homelander had drawn with his tongue the night before. It felt like a dream now. She decided that the barely concealed erotism of the lyrics was probably just getting to her and turned the music off. When she went back to her room, everything seemed the same at first glance. It was unusually cold, though. She turned around and realized that the window was open, but she couldn't remember whether she had closed it or not. The clothes she had neatly folded before getting into the tub were now in disarray.

She had trouble falling asleep and felt uneasy throughout the rest of the night. The cold seemed to seep into her bones. She tossed and turned, her mind replaying the events of the previous night and the strange occurrences in her room. The sense of someone having been there, the disordered clothes, and the open window gnawed at her. As she finally drifted into a restless sleep, Aura María couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

She dreamed of Homelander's intense gaze, the sensation of his touch lingering on her skin. The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, filled with half-formed images and unsettling whispers that left her feeling more exhausted when she finally awoke.

Aura María texted Homelander in the end. They had agreed to meet at one o'clock for lunch, but it was well past two when he finally arrived. He descended from the sky like a rocket, landing thunderously on the pavement. The impact shook the ground, sending a ripple of excitement through the crowd that quickly gathered around him. He handled the attention as gracefully as always, giving fist bumps, patting shoulders, and signing autographs. Over twenty minutes passed before he made his way to the restaurant door. The crowd didn't follow, thanks to the timely security’s timely intervention.

When he reached her table, he was smiling broadly and unapologetic. Although she couldn’t bring herself to be mad, Aura María put on a show of irritation anyway.

"So, you're the fashionably late type, huh?" she said, crossing her arms.

"Ah, not all the time. Only when the world needs saving," Homelander replied nonchalantly, taking a seat beside her.

"How convenient for you."

Aura María had more than a few sassy remarks at the tip of her tongue, but something at the corner of her eye caught her attention. The crowd had not dispersed yet. They were standing on the other side of the window facing their table, and there were news reporters and paparazzi among them. Word always traveled fast when it concerned Homelander.

Aura María felt her lips turn downward. This would probably reach Stan Edgar and the other executives at Vought. She wasn't sure how to feel about that. She had always valued her privacy and hadn't had much of an issue protecting it even after becoming a renowned filmmaker. No matter how good her work was, almost no one seemed to be interested in the personal life of a documentalist.

"Just so you know, if you were planning to keep this, whatever it is, a secret—that's not gonna work out. Not anymore."

"Who said I wanted to keep it a secret?" Homelander replied, smiling slyly at her. He took her hand then, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. Aura María felt a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth but was quick to suppress it.

"Explain it to me, won't you? Why in the world wouldn't I want everyone to know I'm dating such a dang brilliant, talented, and beautiful woman?"

'Dating,' Aura María thought, a bit bewildered. 'Am I dating Homelander?'

Assuming one was generous enough to consider meeting for drinks after work a date, this hardly counted as their third time going out. However, Aura María guessed that was the right word to describe their situation—dating. Even in the privacy of her thoughts, it sounded wrong. Never in her wildest dreams would she have dared call it anything other than a hookup or situationship at best.

"I mean, you do have a mirror at home, right? This is the kind of thing most guys would be shouting from the rooftops."

"Mmm, you're coming off strong today, aren't you?" Aura María replied, pleased but unwilling to let him have it so easy. "Sorry to say, but I think bootlicking looks awful on a man, especially if he's just doing it to get laid."

Homelander blinked at her, then laughed, seeming oddly delighted by her rudeness. He had one thing in common with all the men who've tried to woo her in the past. The banter was half the fun for him.

"O-okay, the lady's not into sweet-talking, then," Homelander leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "That's fine. I think I could change your mind about the bootlicking part, though. Maybe, mmn, broaden your horizons?"

Aura María blinked, then arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "You're not serious."

Homelander looked her up and down, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "If I was, would that freak you out?"

Aura was already aware of the fact that Homelander was not exactly the pedantic goody-two-shoes he pretended to be for the sake of his image. Apparently, he was into having sex while having verses of the Book of Revelation read to him. As if that weren't blasphemous enough, Aura María also had the feeling that she'd awoken in him a virginity kink. Still, this thinly veiled insinuation came as a surprise. Not for the first time, she felt oddly flattered that he would share this part of himself with her—one that he usually kept hidden under wraps.

Smiling and unwilling to back down, Aura María met him with the same energy. "I'd say I'm open to new experiences."

Homelander whistled. Then he lifted the tablecloth and made a show of leaning down to take a look at her shoes.

"Oh, shucks," he said in a disappointed, cartoonish voice. "Nah, it wouldn't work. You're wearing high heels."

"What a pity," Aura María deadpanned.

"I wear boots all the time, though. Leather," Homelander replied, dragging the 'L' obnoxiously and then winking at her. "I'd let you borrow 'em, just this once."

"I feel tricked. You're not the serious man I was led to believe."

"Chica, I walk around all day long wearing a skin-tight spandex suit and a cape. I am the very definition of an unserious man."

"Well, I can't argue with that," Aura María said, then gestured at the window with her head. The crowd was still there, although there were fewer of them now. "I think you should be more careful with what you say when out in public, though. You know what would happen if any of those news reporters found out that the Homelander is into dominatrixes? The internet would explode."

"I think you're exaggerating."

"Maybe. Parents wouldn't buy their kids those cute Homelander dolls Vought just released, though. That's for sure."

Homelander tilted his head to the side, then said very slowly, "action figures."

"What?"

"They're not dolls," Homelander corrected her with a serious face. His every word was emphasized by the tapping of his index finger against the table. "They're action figures."

After a beat, Aura María burst out laughing.

"Coño, este pana es un caso," she said, covering her face with one hand.

Homelander blinked at her, then parroted back her words but in an awful American accent, mispronouncing every syllable and clearly unaware of what he was saying. Rather than offend her, the sound of the leader of the Seven mercilessly butchering her mother language only made her laugh harder.

Once they left the restaurant, Homelander gently scooped Aura María into his arms. He sensed her hesitation, her body tensing slightly as they rose. To keep her at ease, he flew slowly and close to the ground, weaving through the cityscape with the grace of a shadow. Aura María clung to him, her arms around his shoulders, holding tight enough to dislocate a lesser man's neck. Homelander, with his superhuman strength, barely seemed to notice.

The cacophony of the city was soon replaced by the serene whisper of leaves as they reached a secluded clearing in Central Park. The moonlight cast a silver sheen over the grass, the stars twinkling faintly above. The distant hum of traffic was a mere murmur here, overshadowed by the rustling trees and the occasional chirp of crickets. They decided to take a stroll, savoring the rare peace away from prying eyes and the relentless noise of the city.

"It's unfair, to be honest," Homelander began, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Sorry?” Aura María replied.

"You know almost everything there is to know about me. I mean, it'd be strange if you didn't, I guess, after directing a 40-minute-long documentary on me. I don't know the first thing about you, though. It's unfair, it's all I'm saying."

"What do you wanna know?"

"Where are you from? Originally, I mean."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aura María's tone sharpened, her hackles rising defensively. Homelander, rather than offended, seemed amused by her reaction.

"Don't get me wrong, missy, you speak English better than many people who were actually born here. The accent gives it away, though. So, Venezuela, am I right? What city, though? What's it like there?"

"Oh." Aura María relaxed, her tension dissipating.

She had thought he was questioning her heritage, a common and hurtful experience. "I'm from Caracas, born and raised. It's loud and dirty and full of weirdos, like any capital. It's in the middle of a valley, though, so there's also nature and trees, lots of macaws. I grew up in the East, which most would say is the fancy part of town. Like, uh, American suburbs, I guess."

"I don't find that surprising at all."

"Please, like you don't have Old Money written all over your face."

"I should hope so. You've no idea how much Vought spend just to make it this pretty," Homelander replied, smiling teasingly down at her. His smile faltered slightly, as if he just realized he'd said something he shouldn't have. Aura María laughed it off, unsure what he meant. Had Homelander just confessed to her he'd had plastic surgery?

"My dad's a native, from a small town called Alto Orinoco. That's in the Amazonas. We look nothing alike. His maternal grandparents were from a tribe called Wayú, and apparently their Spanish was very bad," Aura María said. Although she most definitely took after her mother, someone educated in the matter could glimpse a few ethnic features in her. She had eyes dark as night, larger than average and almond-shaped, a round face with plump lips and thick hair of an intense black shade.

"My mom's from a town not far from the capital called Valencia. Her parents were Italian immigrants and racist as fuck. They disowned her when they found out she wanted to marry a Wayú. When I was little, they often came by the house, though. Once I was old enough to understand that they wanted me around because I only looked 'a little Indian,' I told them not to come back," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Uh," Homelander said, ever so eloquent. He was staring at her strangely. "That's a... very colorful background."

"You think? Not very different from my friends' back home, though. We are all a weird mixture of something over there."

“So, interracial marriage is normal in your country?”

“I guess? I mean, we don’t really have a concept of it. To us, it’s just marriage. Obviously, there are racists, like, well…”

“Like your grandparents?”

“Yeah, like them. People from different races marrying each other is usually not a big deal for us, though. Not nowadays. I was surprised to see how much of a taboo it still is here, to be honest. You would think citizens of the so-called first world would be more open-minded.”

Homelander actually sniggered. “There’s people in this country who think the Earth is flat, María. Give us a break.”

“I guess you would know a lot about that,” Aura María replied, a glint in her eyes. “I’m pretty sure flat-earthers make up most of your fanbase.”

Homelander stared at her gravely. “There are flat-earthers among my fans. They are not the majority of them.”

“Oh. So, you would say it’s an insignificant amount, then?”

“Definitely.”

“So, if tomorrow you were at a rally and openly said that the Earth is in fact round, everything would be fine? Is that what you’re saying?”

“…no,” Homelander said, reluctantly. “It would affect my ratings. Like, a lot. Stan would have my head on a plate.”

“I thought so.”

“If I tell you something, you promise not to laugh?”

“What?”

“For the longest time, I thought Venezuela was a country in Europe.”

Aura María halted to a stop. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

Homelander shook his head, pursing his lower lip.

“I mean, I can’t say I’ve met a lot of Venezuelans. The ones I have only dressed in designer clothes and threw 100$ bills around like they were pennies. That did not scream Third World country to me.”

Aura María frowned. “When was this?”

“Uh, 2008, I think? I was hosting a beauty pageant with Melanie Brown. You know, one of the Spice Girls? Your candidate won; I forgot her name.”

“Ah, Dayana Mendoza. Yeah, people who work at those pageants have lots of money. I should have known you only ever heard of my homeland because of Miss Universe.”

“Well, look at the bright side, chica. I may think Venezuela is a Third World communist hellhole, but at least I know that you’ve got A-tier women and not everyone’s brown. Better than a flat-earther by a long shot.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole.”

Aura María’s voice carried a mix of frustration and amusement. Homelander chuckled, a low, amused sound that rumbled in his chest. “Anyway, I guess that means we’re even,” he said, his tone casual but his expression unreadable.

“Mmn, I don’t think we are,” Aura María replied, her brows knitting together as she looked away, gathering her thoughts.

“What’s that?” Homelander asked.

“You said you wanted to know more about me because I already knew everything about you. That’s not true, though. I think most of what we filmed for that documentary was bullshit.”

Homelander’s expression shifted abruptly. The playful glint in his eyes vanished, replaced by a serious, almost steely gaze. His jaw tightened, and Aura María could feel the tension radiating from him. She realized, belatedly, that this might be one in the long list of questions she wasn’t supposed to ask.

“What makes you say that?” Homelander asked, his voice low and measured.

Aura María hesitated, feeling the weight of his stare. She forced herself to keep going, her heart pounding. “I could see it that day when we were filming the childhood segment. You know, back at Maryland?”

“Okay?” he responded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to read her.

Aura María smiled awkwardly, her cheeks flushing. She could feel the heat rising to her face. “You’re gonna think it’s weird that I noticed. But, uh, during a recess, I heard you asking Madelyn where the restroom was. You also got lost a couple of times when we were filming the house tour.”

“Oh,” Homelander said, his face going blank for a moment. He looked away, his gaze focusing on the horizon as if searching for an escape from the conversation.

The trees rustled softly in the breeze. The sky was painted with hues of blue and black as the moon rose higher, casting long shadows across the grass. Aura María felt a knot in her stomach, regretting her boldness. She had hoped to pierce through his facade, to understand the man behind the mask, but now she feared she had pushed too far. The vulnerability she had glimpsed in him earlier seemed to retreat, replaced by a cold, impenetrable wall.

Homelander’s face softened slightly, though, as he met her eyes again. There was a flicker of something—maybe understanding, maybe resignation. “Aren’t you a clever one?” he said quietly. “Not many people notice those things.”

Aura María relaxed a little, relieved that he hadn’t shut her out completely. She offered a small, tentative smile. “I guess it’s my job to notice things.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” He nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re right, of course. A lot of what’s out there about me is…curated. For the public.”

Aura María nodded slowly, feeling a pang of empathy despite her wariness. “I understand. Image is everything, especially for someone like you.”

“It’s more than that,” Homelander replied, his voice unreadable. “It’s about control. About making sure people see what Vought wants them to see.”

“And what about what you want?” Aura María asked, genuinely curious.

Homelander looked at her, his eyes searching her face as if weighing how much to reveal. “What I want doesn’t matter as much as what they need me to be.”

They continued walking in silence for a few moments, the sounds of the park around them feeling comforting despite the tension. Aura María could see revelation before her eyes, a glimpse of truth in a world of illusions. Although all of her instincts were telling her to change the subject, she would herself digging for more. “You know,” she said softly, “I was thinking about what happened that day. With the blanket.”

Homelander's face tightened, a shadow passing over his usually composed features. "Right. You were there."

"When you got Randy fired? Yeah, I was there." Aura María's tone was gentle, trying to tread carefully on what was clearly a sensitive subject.

Homelander didn’t look sheepish at all. He raised one eyebrow, his gaze unwavering and intense, as if waiting for a reaction.

"Relax," Aura María was quick to say, sensing his defensive stance. "He was a shitty producer. I was glad to see him gone."

"Ah, see? I was looking out for you, even then," Homelander said with a smile, pointing at the tip of her nose with his index finger in a playful gesture.

"Sure you were," Aura María replied, flashing him a teasing smile. She knew what he was doing—trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. She decided to press on, determined to get to the truth. "What was it?"

"Uh?" Homelander feigned ignorance, though his eyes betrayed a hint of unease.

"What got you so upset that day? I mean, if it was just about Randy getting his crusty ass hands on your blanky, I understand. I don't like it when people touch my stuff either. But I got the feeling that there was something else going on."

Homelander stayed quiet, his jaw clenched.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," Aura María said softly, trying to give him an out.

"It was nothing, really. It just... brought back bad memories," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm gonna ask you a question. Can you promise to answer it truthfully?" Aura María's voice was steady, but her heart pounded in her chest.

"It depends on the question," Homelander replied, his tone guarded.

"Did you really grow up in that house?"

"No," he said simply, the word hanging heavily in the air.

Aura María remembered Homelander talking about his mother's perfect cake, eyes full of love and reverence, only for him to go completely blank-faced the minute the cameras stopped rolling. A void formed in the pit of her stomach, though she wasn't sure why. "Was anything of what we filmed that day real? Anything at all?"

Homelander just shook his head, his lips pulling downward. He looked like a child being scolded, vulnerable and exposed.

"And the blanket?" she asked gently.

Homelander hesitated, then. Aura María put her hand over his, waiting patiently. He stared at their joined hands for a strangely long time.

"Only real thing on that set," he said finally. "It pissed me off that they would put it there without even asking."

Aura María understood then. It had angered him to see something real among all the fakery. She tilted her head to the side, considering him. There were only a few reasons she could think of to completely fabricate the background of a world-renowned celebrity, and none of them were very nice. What was Vought trying to hide?

"You come from a bad place, don't you, John?" she asked softly, using his real name for the first time.

He raised sharp eyes to look at her, the vulnerability in his gaze taking her by surprise. She had never seen him like this—so hesitant and out of his depth. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's okay. You don't have to," she replied, her voice soothing.

Homelander stayed quiet, something about his expression making her heart ache. The tough facade he usually wore seemed to crack, revealing a glimpse of the man beneath the superhero persona.

"Aw, I'm sorry, papi," she murmured, kissing his cheek gently and laying her head on his shoulder. "I wasn't trying to make you sad."

"It's fine," Homelander said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence.

The embrace was tentative at first. Aura María could feel the tension in his muscles, the residual wariness that made him hold back. But as the seconds ticked by, he seemed to relax into her, his grip tightening. She pressed her cheek against his chest, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin fabric of his suit. She could hear the steady, powerful beat of his heart.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the park and turning the sky into a canvas of deep blues and purples. Homelander and Aura María walked side by side, the cool evening air brushing gently against their skin. The city’s distant hum was a comforting background noise, reminding them that despite the surreal peace of the park, the world outside continued to churn.

"You followed me that day," Homelander said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Uh?" Aura María glanced at him.

"When I walked out, you went looking for me. No one else did. I mean, there was Madelyn, but she... she only wanted me to keep filming, yaknow? She didn't really care about me."

Aura María had heard the rumors about Madelyn Stillwell's involvement with Homelander. Although it didn't seem like the right time to ask, she couldn't help but wonder. It had always seemed odd to her that America's most-sought-after-bachelor would set his eyes on a woman known around the whole metropolitan area to be a moody two-faced narcissist. Aura María was certainly not glad to learn about her sudden passing, but in all honesty, she much preferred to deal with Ashley Barrett. Despite her often-neurotic behavior, at least there was something human about her.

"You, though? You walked up to me when I was going back to the set, and you said... you said that you were sorry if your crew did something to upset me. That I didn't have to keep going if I didn't want to."

"Oh, yeah. I remember." Aura Maria’s expression softened, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"It's not common, you know? For people in this industry to be kind. Genuinely kind, no ulterior motives."

"No, I guess it's not," she replied, her tone thoughtful.

Aura María understood what he meant at once. Entertainment was not for everybody. She'd learned that the hard way and she'd already been a full-grown adult when she started working for Vought. Homelander had made his debut when he was only eighteen years old. She couldn't even imagine what growing up in that environment would do to a teen. Aura María wondered if that was the reason he asked her out—a small act of kindness she barely even remembered.

She could still recall that day vividly. They had been filming at a grand estate in Maryland, a faux representation of Homelander's childhood home. The house was opulent, with perfectly manicured lawns and an aura of artificial nostalgia. The set was bustling with activity, lights and cameras everywhere, creating an atmosphere that was both chaotic and meticulously controlled.

He had felt overwhelmed at some point, though at the time she had not been ablet o certain why. After what had been labeled by the crew as The Blanket Incident, he’d walked out into the expansive backyard, seeking a moment of solitude. Aura María remembered the feeling of the cool grass beneath her feet as she followed after him, the way the breeze had whispered through the trees, offering a fleeting sense of peace.

Then, out of nowhere, she spotted Homelander coming back from the barn. His presence, normally so commanding, had been almost sullen that day. A look she hadn’t expected from someone so larger-than-life. She had approached him with a concerned look in his eyes, and although her words had been simple, apparently, they had stayed with him. She had offered him an out, a rare moment of empathy in an industry that often lacked it.

Aura María had wondered awhile back if it was a good idea to go out with such a high-profile celebrity, even if only for one night. With a man so different from her, both in social and economic standing. It had been so very intimidating and still was. She was happy she said yes, though.

It felt strange to let him into her bedroom. She'd had people over before, but it was not quite the same. As Homelander stepped inside, Aura María suddenly became acutely aware of every little detail she'd never given a second thought to before. The stuffed animals she brought from Caracas because she couldn't bear parting with them, the Studio Ghibli posters that lined the walls, the TikTok LED lights she bought during an online shopping frenzy and never took down.

She cringed inwardly, realizing for the first time that her room could easily belong to a middle schooler. Homelander didn’t comment on it, though. He just stared down at her, eyes intent and gleaming in the low light of the room.

"I think we are overdressed, aren't we?" he said with a half-smile, a playful glint in his eye. "Take it off, come on."

Aura María bit into her lower lip, then proceeded to remove her dress. She crumpled it into a ball and threw it on the bed. Homelander was having none of that, though. He tsked at her, shaking his head slightly.

"Ah-ah, pick it up," he said, wiggling his finger. Aura María frowned, feeling a mixture of annoyance and curiosity, but still did as she was told. "Fold it, then put it in the drawer."

"You're into very weird stuff, you know?" she muttered, her voice tinged with a mix of amusement and nervousness.

"'Course not. I just don't like making a mess."

"Sure, that's all this is," she said, rolling her eyes as she took off her underwear and folded it along with the dress, placing them neatly on the bed.

"That's better."

Homelander approached her slowly, his gaze roaming over her body, making her skin prickle with anticipation. He put both hands over her breasts and squeezed them lightly. Aura María took a deep breath, already feeling the first stirrings of pleasure run through her. His touch was firm yet gentle, sending waves of warmth through her body.

His hands traveled down, caressing her sides, then her hips, and finally stopping at her ass. He squeezed her buttocks, then pulled her closer so that they were chest to chest. Aura María put her arms around him and leaned forward to kiss him. The apartment was deadly quiet, only the soft noises of their kissing and the erratic beating of her heart could be heard. It was embarrassing, really, how worked up she'd gotten after he'd barely touched her.

It made sense in a way, though. He was, after all, her sexual awakening. Aura María found it weird and sort of embarrassing that it would finally happen in her mid-twenties. Talk about a late bloomer, she thought wryly. But there was no denying the chemistry between them, the way his mere presence seemed to ignite something deep within her.

As their kiss deepened, Homelander's hands continued their exploration, making her skin tingle with every touch. The LED lights cast a soft, colorful glow around them. Homelander pulled back slightly, his breath warm against her lips. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

A shiver ran down Aura María's spine. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly alive. She looked into his eyes, seeing a mixture of lust and something deeper, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

"Thank you," she whispered back, her voice barely audible.

They moved to the bed, Homelander guiding her gently. As they lay down, he continued to explore her body with his hands and mouth, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through her. Aura María's mind was spinning. She felt a connection with him that went beyond the physical, a sense of understanding and mutual need. In the quiet of her bedroom, surrounded by the remnants of her past and the promise of something new, Aura María let herself be swept away by the moment. She surrendered to the sensations, the intimacy, and the overwhelming feeling of being seen and desired.

[astoldbychae]

In VIP at the All Black Party at Noire Lounge🥂

There's so many things to celebrate (and I love that for them)

Ricci (Penny's cousin)- Got accepted into Nursing school Skyla - Planning her dream wedding Penny - Signed some BIG contracts (that'll have her bicoastal for a while; Shout out to Evoni, Aura, & the whole Allure Management Team) Nova - Closed on her first home!

Looks like Penny and Nova made up, she no longer blickblocked!

[lcs-scar]

First bridge kids sketches

[sid-noxious]

a dump of the sillies

[pollenallergie]

i need more people to write benedict bridgerton x reader fics. i simply do not have the time to do it myself, but, goddamn, do i fucking love reading them.

[rennyrose]

Been a while since I did an Anthony haul-

Weird doctor and a medic who likes cats and sometimes gets into fights during his free time-

[twilightfurry]

Them

[littlecofiegirl]

He is in a relationship with a pretty lady.

[katiekatdragon27]

It’s pieces like this that truly reflect how little I understand shading 💀

Kinda eye strainy but I promise it’s worth it (probably):

Midnight art rush yet again. Felt an incredible need to cook. Did I tho? I think so. I did know that I had to finish in one go tho or else I would’ve lost motivation and gave up lol.

This is based on that one song from Chicago that became a trending audio lol. In a way, they both reached for "the gun". Anthony (and Abel) was the reason the whole war in Spaceland started. On the other hand, Zenith (someone I haven't posted yet) was the one to actually drop the first bomb. I love my media where everyone is at fault and super doomed.

I will yap about Zenith and his beef with Abel in a later post, but for now you get a hand shot lol.

Have a good one dudes :))

[bloodcanbehot]

I Wish You Would

(gotta keep that Taylor Swift theme)

Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Content: Angst? Fluff? Touched starved Lockwood

Warnings: Mention of blood and wounds, also some curse words (I think)

Characters: Anthony Lockwood and (y/n) Kipps. (Lucy Carlyle and Quill Kipps also appear)

Word count: 1.083

A/N: Exactly two people told me to post it, and that was enough (I'm literally about to enter to an online class while typing this). Chronology speaking, this goes BEFORE their first kiss but I'm a dumbass and forgot to post this one first, hope you like it

(I'll attach their first kiss here)

“Where were you?” Quill asked, seeing both Lockwood and (y/n) walk in with dirt on their faces and hair. As soon as he spoke, his sister’s face told him to not speak, unless he wanted to die.

“We’re fine!” (y/n) said, grabbing Lockwood by the arm and walking to the kitchen.

“You guys don’t look-” Lucy started, but the slamming of the door cut her off.

“Sit”

“I’m not your dog”

“And I don’t care” (y/n) said, pointing at the kitchen chair “sit down”

Lockwood did as she said, even though he didn’t want to. (y/n) started taking out items from the first aid kit, slamming them on the table as she cursed.

“I cannot fucking believe you” she said “seriously, why is it so hard for you to take care of yourself while we’re out on a case?” (y/n) asked, soaking a small piece of cotton with disinfectant. She grabbed Lockwood’s arm, forcefully moving the sleeve of his dress shirt up to see his cut better.

“(y/n) I-” Lockwood started, hissing when the cotton made contact with the cut on his arm.

“This might hurt” (y/n) said, after hearing him hissing, a smirk on her face.

“Okay” Lockwood said “I deserved that”

“You deserve more” (y/n) said “actually, you don’t even deserve me doing this for you, should I just tell my brother to do it, so you suffer a bit more?” she questioned, sarcasm all over her voice.

“(y/n)-”

“You know, when Luce told me you were reckless, I thought 'well, he's certainly not stupid' guess I was wrong!” she grabbed one of the big band aids and covered his cut.

“(y/n) I’m sorry, okay?” he said “this wasn’t reckless, I had a plan, it just didn’t work”

“Wow, what a surprise”

“I didn’t know the golden blade was gonna be there!”

“The what?” (y/n) stood up, forgetting about his other cuts.

“Last year we encountered him” Lockwood explained “we think he somehow works for Penelope Fittes-”

“My boss?”

“Yes” Lockwood nodded “he tried to steal the bone glass from Lucy and I” he explained “he’s also the one who shot me” he grabbed her hand “you have to believe me”

(y/n) looked at his eyes, processing what he had said in silence, enough to make Lockwood panic, the hold on her hand tightening.

“I… I believe you” she said, sitting back down. She wasn’t gonna lie, she always felt a weird vibe from the woman, or the entire agency for that matter. And she didn’t think Lockwood would lie to her.

He sighed in relief “Thank you (y/n)-”

“What I also believe” she started, letting go of his hand and grabbing a new cotton piece “is that your other cuts need to be taken care of” she said “specially this one” she tapped slightly the cut on his forehead, making him hiss again “I thought you were good at fencing?”

“I am” Lockwood shot back “I was just… surprised”

“Your blood says otherwise” (y/n) replied “now, lean closer so I can help”

Lockwood only nodded and whispered a small ‘yes’, letting her do the work and leaning closer as she instructed. As she leaned in, she quickly realized how her back was going to kill her if she did that, so she grabbed her chair and dragged it a bit closer to his, eventually ending up with her thigh in the middle of his thighs.

Lockwood chuckled “you might as well sit on my lap if you-”

“Shut up or I’ll do it” she cut him off with a smile.

He smirked “be my guest”

She ignored him, grabbing the back of his head to steady it as she disinfected the cut across his forehead. She was focused, focused on cleaning the blood and figuring out which bandage to use, but Lockwood’s wandering hands on her knee were distracting her.

It started with his fingers, slowly tapping her knee, barely noticeable, and she wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t kept going at it. His fingers slid across her knee and (y/n) made her best to ignore it, but as she stood up to change the cotton piece, he pushed her leg open, causing her to fall on his lap.

“That’s better” he said, smirk on his lips again.

“Lockwood-”

“Please” he said, voice so quiet she barely heard him.

She looked at his eyes, and for one moment she saw his mask crack. His dark circles and clenched jaw showed her how tired and stressed he was. She couldn’t even imagine how much his muscles ached after the fight, let alone the throbbing of the multiple cuts on his skin.

“Fine” she whispered, not trusting her own voice with the feeling of his hands on her waist.

She kept doing her thing in silence and he just watched her, tracing small circles on her sides with his thumbs. (y/n) just wanted to close her eyes and enjoy it, enjoy his touch on her skin and wish she could feel it for longer, to forget about the case, the fight, everything. She wanted to focus on him and him only.

“There” she said, breaking whatever spell was between them. She grabbed his chin, angling his face to admire the, now taken care of, cut “you’ll live”

He chuckled, smiling truthfully for the first time that night, or since (y/n) knew him, she didn’t care. She liked the small glow on his face.

They locked eyes, the blanket of silence settling on them again. (y/n)’s fingers slid across his chin towards his jaw, making him close his eyes and just enjoy her touch. His hands started moving up her waist, slowly, also making her want to close her eyes and enjoy, but she still leaned forward, closer and closer to him.

He felt it, the weight shift on his lap, some of her curly locks tickling his shoulders.

She could feel their lips almost touching.

The door opened, making her open her eyes wide and snap her neck so hard she wondered if this is how she was going to die. That would be better than the image she saw.

Both Lucy and her brother were standing at the doorstep. (y/n) stumbled off Lockwood’s lap, feeling his hands fly away from her and almost fell. Chair and all.

She gripped the thinking cloth “I was tending his cut” she stupidly said.

She could feel how Quill resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as she looked at him.

“You sure were”

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

A/N: I feel like this scene and the other one are pretty similar, so if I do write the fanfic I'll change it, but let me know what you think! (Again, be nice)

[dunbonnets]

Juliette: Darling, sweetheart, love of my life.

Anthony: ...You're angry with me, aren't you?

Juliette: Absolutely livid.

[jackiequick]

In The Shadows / Marvel Comics OC ⌚️

Elias Drake-Thorne

— / — / —

Face Claim: Jonathan Bailey

———

Full Name: Elijah Henry Drake Thorne

Age: 26

Height: 5’11

Zodiac Sign: Virgo (reserved, analytical, and observant)

Nickname(s):

“Elias” (tends to have a softer, more modern sound compared to the traditional)

"Eli" (a casual version of his name)

"The Silent Observer" (due to his quiet and observant nature)

“Eli-Bear” (it’s what his mother used to call him)

Relationship Status: Single

— / —

Personality

Elias Drake is a figure of quiet strength and subtle complexity. His reserved nature allows him to carefully observe and analyze situations from the sidelines, stepping in only when he feels he has a complete understanding. This calm and stoic demeanor often masks a more impulsive side, revealing a slightly rash and temperamental edge when things don’t go as planned.

Despite his reserved exterior, Elias exudes a quiet confidence. He doesn’t need to be loud or overt to make an impact; when he speaks, people listen. His calm and gentle mannerism makes him approachable, yet he tends to be soft-spoken and slightly sarcastic, especially around new people. His empathetic nature allows him to offer kindness and support, though this is reserved for those he truly believes deserve it.

Reserved and Observant: Prefers to stay on the sidelines and notice details that others might miss, giving him an edge in understanding complex situations.

Quietly Confident: Makes a strong impression without needing to be overtly loud; his thoughtful insights and calm presence often capture attention.

Independent but Collaborative: Enjoys working alone but understands the importance of teamwork and collaboration when necessary, balancing solitude with cooperation.

Slightly Rash: Although generally measured, he can act impulsively when his temper flares or when faced with significant challenges to his principles.

Kind but Selective: His kindness is genuine but selective, extended to those who earn his trust and respect. He is gentle and supportive but discerning about who receives his warmth.

Protective and Loyal: His loyalty is unwavering for those he cares about deeply. Elias’s protective instincts ensure that he stands by and defends his loved ones, even if he seems distant to others.

—

Quirks and Interests:

Wears Glasses: His glasses add a thoughtful and intellectual touch to his appearance.

Bookworm: Though he enjoys reading, he has a stronger passion for films and often uses them as an escape.

Slight Temper: He tries to keep it in check but can be a bit hot-headed when frustrated.

———

—Background 🗞️

Elias Drake-Thorne grew up in a gritty, crime-ridden neighborhood of New York City, an environment where survival demanded caution and sharp instincts. His family lived on the fringes of society, often struggling to make ends meet, but they instilled in Elias the importance of resilience and intelligence. The loss of his parents instilled a deep desire for justice, but unlike the flashy superheroes he saw on the news, Elias preferred to operate in the shadows.

His quiet and observant nature helped him navigate the dangers of the streets, but it also set him apart from others his age, who often resorted to louder, more aggressive means of coping.

Struggles in School:

Academically, Elias was never the best student. He found it hard to focus on traditional subjects that didn’t capture his interest. However, when it came to technology, engineering, and creative writing, he thrived. Teachers often noted that while Elias lacked discipline in some areas, he excelled when left to explore topics on his own terms.

He was the kind of student who would rather figure things out through hands-on experience than by reading textbooks. His self-directed learning led him to develop a keen understanding of technology and electronics, often repairing gadgets or inventing small devices for fun.

— | — | —

Career at Stark Industries:

Eventually, Elias’s natural talent with technology earned him a spot at Stark Industries as a tech consultant. Despite his unconventional academic background, his skill set made him an asset to the company. Elias was particularly valued for his ability to think outside the box, offering creative solutions to complex problems.

While he kept a low profile, preferring not to attract attention, he found satisfaction in contributing to projects that supported the Avengers and enhanced Stark’s technology. His job allowed him to quietly play a part in protecting the world, even if he was never on the front lines.

Passion for Writing:

Though technology became his career, Elias’s true love has always been storytelling. He developed a passion for writing early on, finding solace in crafting narratives that explored justice, corruption, and the complexities of human nature. In his free time, he began writing investigative pieces, focusing on the darker, hidden parts of New York’s criminal underworld.

His reserved nature made him an excellent investigator—people rarely noticed him, and he was adept at blending into the background. His articles, though often published anonymously or under pseudonyms, became a way for him to expose the truths others were too afraid to confront.

————

—|—|—

—Likes ☕️

Iced Coffee: Elias has a penchant for iced coffee, which keeps him alert during long nights of work or writing.

Drama Shows: He enjoys drama shows, particularly those with complex characters and intricate plots. He finds them a great escape and a source of inspiration for his own writing.

Mac & Cheese: A comfort food that reminds him of simpler times; he often makes it for himself when he’s feeling nostalgic or in need of a quick meal.

Simple Fashion: Prefers understated, practical clothing—jeans, simple tees, and comfortable shoes. He values functionality over fashion trends.

Homebody: Elias enjoys staying in and tends to be a homebody. He finds solace in the comfort of his own space, away from the chaos of the outside world.

—Dislikes 📌

Loud, Crowded Places: Due to his reserved nature, Elias dislikes loud, crowded environments which can be overwhelming and stressful for him.

Disorganization: He values order and tends to be irked by disorganization, whether in his personal space or in his work environment.

Unnecessary Attention: Prefers to stay out of the spotlight and avoids situations where he is the center of attention.

Overly Sweet Foods: While he likes mac & cheese, he’s not a fan of overly sweet foods or drinks, finding them cloying and unappealing.

—Nerdy Interests 📼

Films and Series: Elias is a film enthusiast who enjoys everything from classic cinema to modern blockbusters. He often analyzes films and series for their storytelling techniques and thematic depth.

Video Essays: He enjoys watching video essays on a variety of topics, including film theory, technology, and social issues. They provide him with new perspectives and insights.

Music: Music is a big part of his life, and he has a diverse taste ranging from classical to modern genres. He often listens to music while working or relaxing at home.

Tech Gadgets: Beyond his professional work, Elias has a deep interest in the latest tech gadgets and innovations. He enjoys keeping up with the latest advancements and understanding how they work.

Comics and Graphic Novels: While not a superhero himself, Elias enjoys comics and graphic novels for their storytelling and artistic value. They provide him with creative inspiration and a way to unwind.

— | — | —

—Elias Drake-Thorne's Soundtrack Playlist 🎧

“Sweater Weather” – The Neighbourhood

Perfect for Elias’s cozy, laid-back, and home-centered vibe. It’s atmospheric and moody, reflecting both his introverted nature and subtle complexity.

“Sure Thing” – Miguel

This track brings out Elias’s grounded, nurturing side. It has a sensual yet chill vibe, showing his capacity for caring deeply and being there for those he holds close.

“Saturn” – Sleeping At Last

A beautiful, introspective track that mirrors his thoughtful, reflective nature. It hints at his connection to loss, his desire for justice, and his emotional depth.

“Leave The Light On” – Tom Walker

A perfect fit for the more intense, emotional side of Elias, where he wrestles with personal struggles. The song’s message about holding on through tough times connects to his quiet but strong resilience.

“I’ll Be Good” – Jaymes Young

This song matches Elias’s inner conflict, balancing his quiet demeanor with a desire to do better and strive for justice, even in his more discreet ways.

“Flares” – The Script

An emotional, heartfelt track that speaks to Elias’s experience with loss and his gentle side. It captures his vulnerability and the quiet strength he draws from those experiences.

—— / —— / ——

— | —

—Style & Background Insights 🔓

~Style

Casual and Practical: Elias's style is understated and practical. He favors simple fashion choices—think well-fitted jeans, casual shirts, and comfortable sweaters. His look reflects a preference for practicality and comfort over flashy trends.

Subtle Elegance: His wardrobe includes pieces that are stylish yet subtle, with a preference for muted colors and clean lines. This aligns with his reserved personality, emphasizing functionality and a low-key elegance.

Tech-Influenced Accessories: Given his tech-savvy nature, Elias often wears minimalist tech accessories, such as smartwatches or sleek glasses, which complement his practical and intellectual style.

~Background

Challenging Upbringing: Growing up in a tough, crime-ridden neighborhood in New York, Elias witnessed the harsh realities of life early on, despite trying to see the light in the darkness. This environment shaped his cautious and observant nature, instilling in him a deep-seated desire for justice and a resolve to make a difference in his own way.

Dual Career: Balancing a career in tech consulting with a passion for journalism, Elias has forged a path that reflects his diverse interests and skills. His work at Stark Industries showcases his technical prowess, while his journalism endeavors highlight his creative and communicative side.

Quiet Heroism: Elias’s approach to justice and heroism is understated. He works behind the scenes, tackling issues with a subtle, yet effective impact. His focus is on creating change quietly and meaningfully, rather than seeking the spotlight or overt recognition.

Homebody Nature: Preferring a quiet life at home, Elias finds solace in simple pleasures—like enjoying a cup of iced coffee, indulging in drama shows, or spending time with his favorite books and films. His home is a sanctuary where he can unwind and recharge, away from the demands of his professional life.

— / — / —

—The Soft-Spoken Journalist 🖥️

Elias Drake-Thorne, much like a male counterpart to the iconic Lois Lane, embodies a blend of strength, determination, intelligence, and kindness. His journey reflects a deep commitment to storytelling and a passion for uncovering the truth, making his transition from tech consultant to journalist a natural evolution of his career and interests.

~Career Transition

Shift to Journalism: Elias's career initially centered around tech consulting at Stark Industries, where his technical expertise was invaluable. However, his true passion has always been storytelling. Recognizing that his heart lies in writing and reporting, Elias has made a deliberate shift towards journalism, focusing more on his love for writing and storytelling.

Focus Areas -> Elias's new role allows him to explore a range of topics:

- Entertainment and Celebrities: He writes engaging stories about the entertainment industry and celebrities, providing fresh perspectives and in-depth coverage.

- Technology: Combining his tech background with his journalistic pursuits, Elias covers the latest trends and innovations, offering insights that bridge his technical knowledge with his storytelling skills.

- Real-Life Events: His investigative work delves into significant real-life events, uncovering hidden truths and presenting them in a compelling manner.

- Lifestyle: Elias also explores lifestyle topics, sharing stories that resonate with his audience and reflect his understanding of contemporary issues and interests.

- Passion for Truth and Impact: Elias is driven by a desire to make a difference through his work. His stories aim to inform, inspire, and impact readers, emphasizing authenticity and the search for truth.

-> Narrative Style

- Thoughtful and Insightful: Elias's writing is characterized by its thoughtfulness and depth. He brings a nuanced perspective to his subjects, combining detailed analysis with engaging narrative techniques.

- Empathetic and Relatable: His approach to journalism is empathetic, focusing on the human element behind the stories. Elias’s kindness and sensitivity enable him to connect with his subjects and readers on a personal level.

- Commitment to Authenticity: Elias prioritizes honesty and integrity in his reporting. His commitment to presenting accurate and meaningful content reflects his dedication to making a positive impact through his work.

— / — / —

— | — | —

—Fun Facts 🖇️

— Multilingual Skills: Elias is fluent in both English and Spanish, a skill he picked up growing up in a multicultural neighborhood. He enjoys using his language skills to read international literature and connect with a diverse range of people.

— Phobia of Public Speaking: Despite his career in journalism, Elias has a deep-seated fear of public speaking. He prefers written communication and finds large audiences daunting, often opting for written articles over speaking engagements.

— Collector of Vintage Cameras: Elias has a growing collection of vintage cameras. His fascination with photography extends to collecting old and rare models, each with its own unique story and history.

— Night Owl: Though he often forces himself to adhere to a morning routine due to work demands, Elias is naturally a night owl. He finds that his creativity and productivity peak during the late hours, which is when he does most of his writing and thinking.

— Unusual Hobby: Elias is a bit of a “house husband” at heart. He takes pride in keeping his living space organized and enjoys the routine of household chores, finding them oddly therapeutic.

— Pet Peeve: He’s easily annoyed by loud or chaotic environments, preferring quieter, more serene settings where he can concentrate and feel at ease.

— Dream Destination: Elias dreams of visiting Paris, France someday, drawn by its rich cultural history, iconic landmarks, and vibrant arts scene. He’s eager to explore its museums, architecture, and culinary delights.

———

And we’re done! Pls let me know what you think 💭

Remember to like, comment and share

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