#I would still like an invite to the wedding

[luminiamore]

ex husband eren yeager x black fem reader

moodboard

warnings: reader may have gotten pregnant again (she definitely did), ur daughters name is raqi

“Sweetheart, please let me put your shoes on so I can bring you to your daddy.” You try to tell your gorgeous four-year-old for the fifth time in one minute.

“No, mama! Daddy says he’s coming here because he misses you.”

You observe as she escapes your grasp again after kicking her tiny feet in different directions. You groan both inside and out loud because you have to repeat, “No, he’s not Raqi.” Mommy needs the house to herself tonight-”

“Uhuh, and Uncle Connie is coming too! He’s taking me to, um-Nick- um-” You watch as she looks at you, waiting for you to help her finish her sentence.

You stifle a giggle at her pout, “Nickelodeon?”

“Yeah!! It’s in Spain, mama!”

You heave a sigh once more. It’s not uncommon for Connie to take your daughter on expensive trips such as this. He probably indulged your daughter more than you did. Not more than Eren, though. Even though Eren didn’t live with you, he made sure to come by and see his baby girl every day, even if it was just for five minutes. Each time he came, he would have a new gift in his hand.

Connie gave your daughter gifts like trips, taking her around the world, and first-class only reserved for the princess. As she ages, she definitely won’t be impressed by someone’s son taking her to Miami.

However, Eren spoiled his girl with jewelry, bags, the newest edition of Hello Kitty plushies, and anything else. To be honest, you need to begin the process of finding her a larger room.

You’re not so sure your daughter is lying. It’s unlikely that she would lie about something like this. Your frustration has changed from being directed toward her to your ex-husband for not informing you. This was actually one of the reasons why you guys split up. He would always make plans and decisions regarding your daughter without letting you know first.

Although he didn’t make any bad decisions or put her in danger, it’s upsetting to know that you rarely had any say in what your daughter did, except for the things she wore.

You remember vividly handing him the divorce papers and standing in front of him in shock as he laughed right in your face with mumbles of, ‘Must be crazy’ and ‘Never in a million years.’

And so the divorce was never finalized because he refused to sign the papers, but you and he were through as far as you were concerned. He had no problem letting you run around thinking that, though. It goes without saying that he never took off his wedding ring. Yours has been on for so long that it’s like muscle memory to slip it on every time you go out.

To this day, his Instagram page is filled with pictures of you and only you. Shit, both of your parents still invite you guys over for dinner, and Eren never told them what you presented him with. You absolutely didn’t have the guts to tell them unless he signed those papers.

You didn’t have the guts to prevent your daughter from having a good time and living out her childhood, a chance you, unfortunately, weren’t blessed with.

“Okay, baby. Well, you still have to put your shoes on if you wanna go with Uncle Connie, okay?”

That seemed to do it. Your daughter headed to her bed and began bouncing up and down with joy before finally settling down and waiting for you to put them on.

Just as you were finishing, you heard the doorbell ring. You rise to your feet and fix your silk robe and matching silk bonnet. Kissing your daughter’s head and lifting her up in your arms, you walk barefoot on the cold tile floors of your penthouse— that Eren pays for.

It’s no surprise when you open the door and find the men of the hour. They were matching. Your ex-spouse appears in all his splendor, sporting a gray beanie that conceals his natural hair, a black hoodie, and black sweatpants that match. Connie’s attire was the opposite: a black beanie covering his buzz cut, a grey hoodie, and grey sweatpants that matched.

“Daddy!”

“Baby!”

Your daughter is quick to jump onto her father, and Eren easily catches her. It’s almost impossible to deny how similar they look. It’s as if she left you out of the gene pool altogether. All his facial features were present in her, including his curls, eyes, and face. Her skin color was the only thing you could vouch for.

Eren catches your eyes, and you look away quickly. His stare always gives you an intimidating feeling. You disregard his glance and turn to Connie with a smile, kissing him on his cheek and leading him inside, “Hey, Con.”

He reciprocates the gesture, albeit with a friendly tone. He was aware of how possessive his best friend can be towards you, and he didn’t want to be a part of that today. After playing with your daughter’s flushed cheek, you turn around and leave Eren outside, letting him invite himself in. Your hostility causes him to furrow his brows.

“What, I don’t get a kiss too?”

While still ignoring him, you direct your buzz-cut friend to your child’s room. “There should be a bag already packed with her things in her closet. I know how much you guys love these trips.”

Connie grins and nods. Your daughter demands that Eren put her down and runs after him, yelling that she wants to show him her new plushies. Now, there were only you and Eren in your living room, alone. Great.

It was impossible for you to function when it was just you and him. Eren’s presence always made you nervous and hot. No matter who was present, he always made his attraction to you known. Your daughter thought you were still together for that reason. Eren Yeager was an elusive figure. He was a force to be reckoned with. The feelings you have for him are still harboring, even though you tried to push them away.

They persist, and it doesn’t seem like you made any effort to remove them. You have been separated for a few months now, but you have never attempted to move on. Whenever your friends asked why you never went on a date, you would always answer that you’re ‘just not ready.’ You never actually moved on from him.

Your friends knew it was bullshit, but you would never admit it. You wouldn’t admit to missing him, missing him holding you, sleeping with you, fucking you. You went from getting your fat cunt stuffed every day to only cumming once a week due to a vibrator going high speeds on your clit. Eren knew you weren’t stupid enough to give his pussy away. You knew you weren’t stupid enough to give his pussy away.

Eren, of course, would never move on from you, either. He genuinely doesn’t believe that you two are separated, as you’re still together in his mind. You will be his forever.

He slowly stalks towards you, watching you intently focus on the wall. You probably hoped he would disappear if you didn’t pay him any mind. He knew how your mind worked.

“M’still waiting on my kiss, mama.” He raises your chin towards him when he reaches you, and his green eyes don’t skip over the little bra you had on beneath your lace robe.

“Eren, move.” You glare at him, but it really isn’t doing much but making him hard.

“Wassup with you?”

“You! You are ‘wassup’ with me.” You whisper so as not to alert Connie and your daughter in the next room. You try to match his tone, lowering yours in pitch.

“What did I do, baby?” His deep voice speaking to you like this always makes you squirm, but you suppress it to express your anger at him.

“Don’t call me that. How many times do I have to tell you to let me know when you make plans to take our daughter somewhere.” You grit your teeth.

He simply gives a sly smile, “Are you really upset about that?”

Once again, he pretends it’s not significant. You’re not even asking for much. Is it really a death sentence for him to inform you of where your daughter might be going? Why do you always end up being the last one to learn? You believe it’s not difficult to give you a week’s notice. You won’t have to be worried about looking silly when your daughter tells you. You don’t think it’s fair to you at all.

“I trust Connie, and I trust you with our daughter, but I just want to know where she’s going. Preferably before she goes! That’s all I ask for, Eren. You can’t keep doing-”

“Are you mad at daddy, mommy?”

You freeze.

Your daughter rested on Connie’s back as he held her mini Disney Princess suitcase. She was gazing at you with a pout, and you didn’t want to be the one to put that expression on her face. You’re about to respond when Eren suddenly opens his mouth, condescending tone and all,

“Yeah, mama. Are you mad at me?”

You try and force a smile for the sake of your daughter, even though every part of you wants to wring your ex-husband’s neck.

“No, baby. Are you ready to leave with Uncle Connie now?” As if it were never there, the frown is replaced by a fit of giggles, a bright smile, and a frantic nod of her head.

Connie gives your daughter a small rub on her head, “We should head out now. The flight’s in two hours, and we don’t wanna get stuck in traffic.”

You hurriedly nod and lead them both to the front door. Your daughter is smothered with kisses after you hug her and whisper a sweet ‘I love you.’ Eren presents your daughter with a mini Chanel box just before Connie puts Raqi in the child’s seat in the backseat of his Scat. You manage to make out his little whisper to her, ‘Don’t open it until tomorrow. Daddy loves you.’

Together, you love them, and you have no regrets about giving this man a child. It’s something you could never regret. Marrying him wasn’t a regret for you either; truly, he treated you like a princess. It’s just that you want him to dedicate more time to you.

Eren spent a lot of time outside before having your baby, whether it was with his friends or his job. He was always dedicated to providing you with everything you needed, but you never asked for any of those tangible things. The only thing you wanted was your husband. It took you some time to communicate your feelings to him, but eventually you did.

As a person who was understanding, he listened. For approximately a week, before he did the same shit again. You were worn out and reached a point where you couldn’t keep going any further. Although Eren wouldn’t give you the divorce you wanted, he was accommodating and allowed you to move out of his home. Provided that he will get the apartment and pay your rent. ‘Safety measures,’ he calls them.

Even now, Eren still acts as though you’re married, and you still pretend that it’s bothering you. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear your door slam shut, with Eren still inside your house.

“You really mad at me, mama?”

You merely sigh, “Eren, why are you still here?”

With his hands on either side of you, he stands in front of you while your body presses flush against the front door. You feel a slight tingle, aware that you’re inhaling the same air as this man. You give a quick glance at his pink lips and hope you look away swiftly enough so he doesn’t notice. He does.

His lips curl, and his voice becomes low and breathless when he speaks again, “Answer me, baby.”

You sense that Eren is talking about more than today for some reason. He’s talking about everything that led up to it, including his absence and negligence. He’s asking if you’re still upset about the way he influenced you to want to divorce him.

A tear that you didn’t even realize was forming slips down your face. Eren doesn’t miss a beat when wiping it away with his thumb and delicately kissing your cheek as well.

You whisper shakily, “I don’t want to be. B-But you make it so hard, Ren.”

Ren. You called him Ren. He fails to recall the last time he heard the nickname you gave him flutter past your pretty lips. He derives pleasure from it and longs to listen to it again.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, mama. You have to believe me. I never want to see you cry, baby. And I’m so sorry for making you feel like this.”

You attempt to move away, but he grasps your hands tightly, causing you to remain still. He understands your struggle, but you don’t trust him. And you’re trying to run away from him again. Eren has apologized before, but he wants you to acknowledge his apologies this time.

He kisses your cheek again, “I’m not working as much anymore, and I even cut back on dealing. I’m sorry I didn’t get it before. I know you just wanted me to spend more time with you, and I swear I’ll make it happen. Just take me back, please.”

Another kiss, this time on your neck, “I miss you so much, mama.”

Your breathing is intensifying, and your hold on him is gradually diminishing. “Ren, please. I- I can’t.”

“Let me make it up to you, hm? Show you how much I missed you. Let me, mama.”

You’re so weak, you scold yourself. So, so weak. He shouldn’t be able to get you like this easily. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to slip off your robe, letting it fall on the cold floor. You should have more resistance. You should make him work for it.

But how can you? 

How can you resist when he’s on his knees, letting his tongue push in and out of your wet hole, unashamedly moaning as you twitch and buck your hips into his mouth. He’s entirely too nasty and too careless when he laps up everything your addictive pussy is pouring into his awaiting mouth.

You’re shaking, your body shivering so much you have goosebumps everywhere. He just doesn’t let up. Each time you try and push away from his pleasurable onslaught, it’s just,

“Quiet, mama. Daddy can’t make it up to you if you’re running from him.”

Your eyes are starting to hurt so much from the way you’re rolling them back into your skull. You’re heaving, squealing when he suckles harshly on your poor clit. Not even your vibrator made you feel this good. 

“G-Gonna cum- Ah! Oh fuck, Rennie!”

You hear the slurping sounds as he eats you, and he never once removes himself from your cunt as he whispers, “Not my name, mama.”

God, you can feel the vibrations, can feel his long tongue covering every crevice inside of you. You grip his head, his beanie barely hanging onto him with how much you both are moving. You wail when he inserts two fingers in at once after he slips his tongue out of you, a precious and weak “Daddy- shit!” released into the air.

He hums against you, against your wet mound, and for some reason, that’s what pushes you over the edge. Your stomach clenches, and your entire being feels like it’s being set alight when you cum on his big fingers. Eren swears he’s fallen in love all over again. It’s been months since he’s tasted you, tasted your sweet cream. He’s missed it. God, he missed you.

As soon as he senses you’re too weak to stand on your own, he rises to his feet and immediately lifts you up by your legs. His lips are brushing against yours now, still wet from your essence.

“You never gave me that kiss. C’mon, baby, kiss me.”

And you do, moaning when you immediately taste yourself. Your breath caught in his mouth as he pushed your legs back against the wall, and he didn’t hesitate to swallow your sounds, sucking your tongue and biting your blushed lips.

Time slows when Eren finally pulls his sweats down and nudges his fat cock in you. He’s holding you so gently like you’ll break in any moment, and honestly, you feel like you will. It’s been so long, so long since you had something this big stretching you out. You can’t help but whimper out pretty cries of ‘Daddy!’ or ‘Rennie!’ against his panting mouth.

You’re so stuffed. So full that you can’t think of anything but how good he feels, how good this intense euphoria streaming through your body feels.

Eren is the same. He’s fisted his cock red to thoughts of having you like this once more. You were the only one who could ever make him feel like a wimp whenever he fucked you. Your pussy just feels so perfect, squeezing around him so tight, like you want him to put another baby in you. Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

He gives you slow, deep strokes that make you keen. The sound of his voice is groggy and slurred as he grunts against your throat, “God, you feel so good. Please, baby, forgive me. Say you’ll take me back. Say it. Say it.”

Through your haze, you still manage to have a few brain cells still working, barely. You’re trying to speak out, but every time his hips press flush against your own, it’s like your breath gets caught in your throat. Still, you stutter out,

“C-Can’t- Hah! Oh, right there!”

“You know I’ll never leave you alone. I can’t, mama. Rather die before I ever let you go. I’ll get on my knees again if I have to, baby.” He sounds so pretty, begging for your forgiveness like this. You don’t know how long you can hold out. You’re not sure you even can.

“You’re c-crazy.” You utter, completely breathless, when he hits your g-spot.

Eren’s response is immediate when he reaches down to rub your clit in tight circles, “For you. Crazy for you.”

Whining, your squirt splashes all over his hoodie, and your body is twitching because it won’t stop. Your supposed ex-spouse groans as he spills his seed past your splashing pussy lips, right into your womb, while whispering unsteadily, ‘I love you so much.’ Shakenly, you pull his face toward yours and kiss him, drool pouring out of both your lips. It’s almost as if you’re trying to devour each other.

When you reluctantly pull away from his lips, he speaks once again, “Please, I need you. Just want you in my arms again, mama.”

You sigh, and honestly too exhausted to argue against him, you answer,

“If you start going back to your old habits, Eren-”

“I won’t. Swear on my life- on our daughter.”

You hum, fingers now combing through his loose curls. You gasp against his lips, feeling him shift inside you, “I love you too, Ren. Always did.”

[vivwritesfics]

PLEASE can we get more HOAF ?? Maybe their wedding with absolutely adorable Milo and Olivia OR their wedding night 👀👀👀 ~nurse-sainz

as two of you know, I've been seriously thinking about the hoaf second series. It has a title, but, because I don't want to start ANOTHER series until I finish a current one, it's something I'm going to be working on behind the scenes

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Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnancy hormones

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

She'd never expected to be pregnant on her wedding day. It was nobody's dream, to be round and swollen while stuffed into a pretty white dress that you just know would look so much better if you weren't pregnant, on your feet all day, unable to partake in any of the drinking.

Her bachelorette party wasn't all that. But she didn't want it to be. The only people she would have invited were the other wags, girls she didn't know all that well. No, her bachelorette party was her and Olivia getting their hair and nails done.

They ended the day getting dinner, just the two of them. They sat there, sharing a too big pizza while Olivia went over her details plans of the wedding.

It was the best bachelorette party ever.

Daniel had two bachelor parties. One that was organised by Max and Lando to be the wildest night of his life, with almost all of the grid accompanying them. And one where he could invite Milo.

The party with Milo was mini golf. Carlos was happy to carry Milo around on his shoulders, teach him all that he knew. The boys had all agreed to let Milo win, but he didn't have to know that. After the golf they had dinner and drinks.

One thing about Milo was he couldn't keep his mouth shut about the baby. Maybe Daniel should have reminded him that Baby Ricciardo was a secret, but he didn't expect Milo to just blurt it out, either.

But none of the drivers were surprised. They couldn't be surprised about baby Ricciardo, not when the couple hadn't exactly been good at hiding it. Daniel's hand on her stomach, the little list of baby names they'd all seen on his phone.

The party without Milo, when Milo was at home with Olivia and his momma, it really was a party. Loud music, drinks, dancing, it had everything. But, the moment Daniel got more than three drinks in his system, he was talking about her.

Arm over Max's shoulder as he slurred out his name and how much he loved her. "I want to have another girl," he said to Max, but it was barely audible. "A little girl that looks just like her."

When she had her first dress fitting, there wasn't a bump. Or, at least, the bump did little to change her frame. Her dream dress fit like a glove and Daniel's mother was crying.

It was naïve to think that the dress would still fit by the time the wedding rolled around. Her bump had gotten exponentially bigger, to the point where she couldn't hit it anymore. Now that the drivers knew, it was only time that the rest of the world knew.

They didn't announce it in any way. No, Daniel's Instagram usually had a picture of her in his photo dumps and this was no exception. Just, this time, her bump was visible in the picture.

If the world of F1 was losing its collective shit, neither of them noticed. The Ricciardo family was wrapped up in their own little bubble, just the way they liked it.

A week before the wedding, her dream dress wasn't fitting. Why the fuck wasn't it fitting? Well, she knew why. It was stupid to think anything would fit over her bump.

"I hate this baby," she said through tears as she rubbed her bump. No, she didn't hate baby Ricciardo, not in the slightest. Actually, she loved baby Ricciardo more than anything. But still, she couldn't help but wish she wasn't pregnant.

The dress she wore on her wedding day wasn't her dream dress. She couldn't wear those cute white heels she wanted to wear, couldn't even see her feet.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, just an hour away from being walked down the aisle, an hour away from marrying the love of her life, she was ready to cry. She held it back, though, couldn't afford to ruin her makeup. "What're we gonna do with you?" She whispered as she cradled her bump.

"Momma?"

She looked at Milo in the mirror before she turned towards him. "C'mere, baby," she said and held her hands out towards him. Fuck, how was he almost seven?

As her son wrapped his arms around her, she wanted time to stop. Just stop, let her live in this moment forever. He was growing up so damn fast, he was going to be a big brother soon. "You look beautiful, momma," he said.

This time, she couldn't help the tears. Stupid pregnancy hormones. "Thank you, Miley," she said through a shaky breath as she stood up and grabbed a tissue. Gently she dabbed at her eyes, trying to save her makeup.

She smoothed her dress over her bump and took Milo's hand. "Let's go become Ricciardos."

Daniel had never been this nervous before. Not in his first race back after McLaren had let him go. He was sweating in his suit as Max stood with him. All of their guests were seated, but the most important people were missing.

The door opened and Olivia and one of her friends, one that had been over a few times, walked in. They tossed the petals out of the little white basket as she walked in behind her.

Daniel knew her relationship with her family was... strenuous, at best. That was why they weren't at the wedding. With her father not there to walk her down the aisle, Milo held her hand.

Daniel's breath caught in his throat. He knew she wasn't in her dream dress, not the dress that matched Olivia's, but she still looked amazing. Holy fuck, it was enough to bring tears to her eyes. But that wasn't what actually did it.

Milo was the one walking her down the aisle. Milo in his little suit that near matched Daniels. He stood tall and proud, head held high as he walked his mother towards his step father. 

The kids sat together through the ceremony. Milo couldn’t stop himself from fiddling with the little pieces of petals as his mother got married. They were incredibly well behaved throughout, with Olivia’s grandparents, and Milo’s grandparents now, too, keeping them company. 

This close, Daniel could see the faults in her makeup. He didn’t care about the faults, she looked gorgeous with or without it. But still, Daniel could see the smudges under her eyes as he slipped the ring onto her finger. 

Mrs Ricciardo. She was Mrs Ricciardo now. 

Daniel didn’t say anything about the evidence of her tears as he kissed her. And, once he had his mouth on her, he never wanted to stop kissing her. He couldn’t dip her, like he wanted to, but his hand cradled her bump, cradled baby Ricciardo. His baby. She was his wife and she was carrying his baby. 

This was the best day of his life. 

Their family and friends were cheering as he walked her out of the church and into the car. Even then, even in the car, he couldn’t keep his lips on her. But he had to make sure she was okay, that took precedent. Even knowing that, Daniel couldn’t pull his lips away from her own. So the words were mumbled against her lips. “Were you crying?”

He tried to sound concerned, by her lips against his had his voice coming out as more of a desperate whine. 

But, as soon as he said it, she pulled away. “I’m fine, Danny,” she said and went to rub at her eyes, rub away the evidence of her tears.

Daniel caught her wrists. “You look beautiful,” he whispered and kissed her again. “My wife looks beautiful.”

The way she looked up at him, fuck, he could have kept her in that car forever. “Say it again.”

“My wife.”

When they arrived at the reception venue, their friends and family were there, waiting. As soon as they climbed out of the car, Milo and Olivia were pulling away from their grandparents, racing towards them. Daniel couldn’t help but pick Olivia up and place her on his hip as Milo held his mothers leg.

“Are we a family now?” Olivia asked, her voice coming out almost like a demand. 

But nobody could blame her. She’d been waiting for this moment for a year and a half. 

Daniel rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “We always were a family, Badger.”

There was no part of her wedding that the new Mrs Ricciardo didn’t enjoy. She wasn’t in her dream dress, but, now she had that ring on her finger, now she was married to the love of her life, she didn’t much care. 

She danced, but she didn’t dance the night away, like she had dreamed. She couldn’t help but be emotional as she sat with Daniel’s parents, her mother and father in law, watching the guests at her wedding. They were dancing more than she was, at her own wedding. 

Holding her bump, speaking softly to baby Ricciardo, she watched as her husband and her children danced. Daniel’s grin was so wide as the three of them were the centre of attention on the dance floor. That was the man she loved. That was the man she married. 

“Your daddy, your siblings and I can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered to baby Ricciardo as her mother and father in law watched on, hearts melting. “You’ve got the best daddy going.”

And, as Daniel put Olivia down after spinning her around, he looked over to his wife. She smiled at him, a smile he’d never forget. As Olivia went to dance with Lando and Max took Milo to get something to drink, Daniel walked over to her. 

“Hi, baby,” he said as his hand met her bump. And then he looked up at his wife, meeting her eyes. “Hi, Mrs Ricciardo.”

“Hi, Mr Ricciardo.”

He kissed her, and she never wanted to let him go.

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[babygirl-diaz]

Sammy's Random BuckTommy 00s Romcom AUs: 27 Dresses

In which, Buck and Tommy are still firefighters. Tommy is with the 217 and Buck is with the 118.

His whole life Tommy has only been a groomsman, but never the groom. He has 27 different suits to prove that. Now in his 40s, he has lost all hope of ever finding love and getting married. But then he meets Evan when he flies Evan and his coworkers in the middle of a storm to save his Captain and his wife. Evan, who is a golden retriever personified, tries his best to get Tommy's attention. Tommy is intrigued but he also knows if he gives in to Evan, it will end up just being some meaningless fling because there is no way he and Evan can last because of their age difference and he needs something more concrete. Besides, Tommy has other things to worry about. Like the impending wedding of his little brother, Mark. Mark considers himself a "ladies' man" and is always getting in trouble, but despite his life choices, Tommy still helps him out because he's family and besides, he practically raised the guy. So as the best man, he has to deal with the other groomsmen, the bridesmaids, even the bride. And if that isn't enough, he also has to plan the bachelor party.

But keeps running into Evan. And despite his hesitance, he becomes friends with the guy because he is genuinely fun and he makes Tommy smile in a way no one else does. Evan keeps flirting with him and Tommy finds he doesn't mind it. Sue him for liking the attention. His whole life, Mark has been the one who got the attention of everyone. Even his past boyfriends became friends with his little brother and spent more time with him than they did with Tommy. But Evan doesn't care for Mark. Tommy has his full attention.

Tommy invites Evan to the bachelor party and the two get drunk and separate from the others. They spend the night talking to each other, which eventually leads them to make out. They take an Uber to Tommy's place and end up spending the night together.

The next morning, Evan is gone and Tommy feels his heartbreak because it seems Evan only wanted sex from him.

Then in some cliche fashion, Tommy finds out that his brother cheated on his wife-to-be with a bridesmaid. He tries to knock some sense into the guy but fails.

Evan approaches Tommy and tries to explain himself but Tommy refuses to listen to him. Evan says he had to leave the next morning because he had work. Tommy points out that he could have woken him up.

Tommy tells Evan he has to deal with his brother and doesn't have time for this.

At rehearsal dinner, Tommy gets petty and shows everyone Mark's true colors and makes Mark confess he has been cheating on his fiancee.

Mark's fiancee breaks off the wedding and Tommy's mom and Mark are both pissed at Tommy.

Tommy runs into Buck again after the entire disaster. Buck confesses that he did run away the next morning because after they fucked, he was scared Tommy would get sober and reject him and he couldn't face the rejection.

Tommy tells him that their insecurities make them bad for each other and they shouldn't pursue anything until they are both ready to trust each other. So they part ways...

Flash forward 3 years later, and Tommy is getting married. His 27 suits are worn by the 27 grooms whom he was a groomsman for.

The story ends with the officiant asking:

Officiant: Do you Thomas Kinard take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part? Tommy: I do Officiant: And do you, Evan Buckley, this man to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part? Evan: I do Officiant: Well, by the power vested in me by the state of California and the LA Fire Department, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.

And they do and that's where it ends...

P.S. The officiant is totally Bobby

Which 00s romcom should I do next?

[pennylanefics]

Orchids - Quinn Hughes

a/n: not the happiest with this but i really love the idea :) it's such a cute little trope and i can never get enough of it <3

summary: you attend a wedding with quinn and his mind starts to wander about your own relationship

word count: ~1.3k

Quinn sits beside you at the overly decorated table, candles surrounding the area, creating a romantic and soft lighting. Flowers upon flowers are spread all over the entire place, and chatter amongst the guests fills your ears, making your head feel a little fuzzy.

Wedding season was in full swing, and this was the second wedding of the year for Quinn to attend, this time it was a friend and teammate he had in the AHL, who was traded to a different team about a year after. They were still close, so of course Quinn was invited to his lavish wedding.

You felt slightly out of place, not knowing a single person beside Quinn and maybe one or two guys here and there. You made acquaintences with the people at your table, though, finding out they are family of the bride.

Quinn’s hand hadn’t let go of yours since you sat at the table, waiting for the bridal party to enter. He takes in all the decorations while saying hi to people passing by or catching up with someone who stops to chat with him for a little.

He was the best at detecting when you were uncomfortable or shy, or even overstimulated or overwhelmed with a situation, no matter how hard you tried to hide it from him.

“We can leave after dinner, or whenever you’d like,” he whispered in your ear, moving to set his arm around the back of your chair.

“I don’t want to take away from supporting your friend. I’ll be okay,” you grin over at him, squeezing his hand to reassure him a bit more.

“Just let me know. I don’t want you being super uncomfortable.”

“I will,” you agree, kissing his cheek.

The entire time that the wedding party is announced two at a time, one bridesmaid and one groomsmen, and finally the newly wedded couple, Quinn had this special glint in his eyes. The lights shining around him brought out the brown flecks in them, but even with that, there was a deeper meaning to them…he was lost in thought about something.

Dinner is served soon after, wait staff walking through the tables and dropping off plates of steak and chicken with mixed veggies and potatoes, a very fancy yet simple choice you were thankful for. Conversation quietly bubbles amongst every table, everyone lost in their own little world.

Quinn, however, was in his own imagination still. You could tell something was up when he was looking all over the event space, grinning softly as he chews his food.

“Something up, Q?” You finally ask him, nudging your hand against his thigh. His head whips towards you and he shakes his head, swallowing his food.

“No, just looking around. It’s beautifully set up, there’s so much to look at,” he brushes off, but just like he knows you, you know him just as well. And you were wanting to get to the bottom of it by the end of the night.

The festivities continue after dinner, dessert is brought out and while it’s delicious, you can’t help but focus your mind on Quinn and his slightly odd behavior; it wasn’t odd, in a sense, but something was up with him. He was far quieter than his usual self that he was at weddings.

Once the speeches were over, which were filled with stories and laughter, the DJ announces that the couple will have their first dance, and then the floor would be open to everyone. Quinn’s hand returns to yours as his eyes were glued to the magnificent white dress that adorned the bride and how her new husband was holding her like she was the most delicate antique he’s ever seen.

You take notice of the glint that returns to his eyes, seemingly smiling to himself, or at the happy couple, it honestly could be either. Taking a step into your plan to get him to clear his mind, you place your head on his shoulder, startling him a little since he was so focused, but he settles back, turning to kiss your head.

As the night progresses, you soon find yourself in Quinn’s arms, slow dancing on the floor with countless other couples, your head tucked into his neck. His hands rest on your waist and he hums softly along to the music into your ear.

“Do you ever think about what kind of flowers you want at your wedding?” He asks, his thumb gently rubbing the spot where it sits. You had to keep yourself still for a moment because you were about to raise your head so fast, you would have smacked him in the chin.

When his question finally settles in, your head lifts from his shoulder and you look into his eyes, which were shining with so much adoration for you, a slight grin on his lips. His eyes rake over your face, looking for any sign of discomfort.

“I love daisies or dahlias, daisies would be perfect for a spring wedding, and dahlias in general are so beautiful. I feel like roses can be overrated sometimes, so I’d want something non-traditional,” you explain, still swaying side to side with him. He nods along and his smile widens. “Why? What kind of flowers do you imagine for yours?”

“I’d love orchids for the main flower. Obviously we’d need more, but I was reading something the other day that orchids represent, well, they represent a lot of things, there’s a lot of different meanings for different colors.” He blushes under the dark lights and looks down at your entwining hand, his left hand trailing down to hold your right one.

“I read that in the Victorian era, orchids were given to someone to show love and appreciation and as a way to tell a woman that she is beautiful.” His other hand raises to your face, cupping your cheek to make sure you kept your eyes on his. “They also represent rare and delicate beauty, and I can’t think of any better flower that encapsulates you.”

Your cheeks heat up under his touch, your breath hitching in your throat. 

“I’ve been imagining our wedding all night, my love. What decorations we’d have, what our color scheme would be, how romantic our first dance would be, but I’d kind of like to have that be in private, between us, and not let anyone know. So they’d be thinking they’re watching the first dance, but it’s really our second.” The pink hue remained on his face as he continued to describe his thoughts, finally giving you and insight into what was on his mind the entire night.

He had been thinking about what it would be like to marry you. Imagining yours and his wedding.

“Is that why you’ve been so distant tonight?” You tease him, tracing your finger across the dress shirt adorning his chest, messing with the chain of his necklace.

“A little. I couldn’t help but let my mind wander. Thinking about seeing you in a beautiful white dress, with your hair all done up in a perfect way, a shining ring on your finger that shows everyone you are loved.”

His words send shocks through your body, your heart racing like crazy in your chest. You were in awe that Quinn had been thinking about this. You’ve only been dating for a couple years, which isn’t short, but it’s also not a long time yet. You expected him to feel this way five years in, so it surprised you a little to know he was thinking about it.

You hadn’t thought of it at all, maybe once here and there, but never in-depth, to the point where small details are planned out with such an immense amount of thought, down to the meaning of certain flowers. However, as you gaze up into his eyes, his touch feeling hot and heavy on your body, you take a moment to think about it.

And the moment the idea of marrying him enters your mind, it feels right.

“You wanna marry me?” You wonder, even though it’s a very obvious answer.

“Of course. You are it for me, my soulmate. There’s no one else I could imagine marrying, my darling.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

[sodaabaa]

to flee or not to flee, part five

anthony bridgerton x OC what happens when a charming and determined viscount courts someone whose worst fear is to marry a man like him?

tropes: damsel in distress, innocent and shy mc, slow burn

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, angst, anxiety, slight misogyny/patriarchal concepts, nsfw (wedding night scene), mentions of scars and past abuse.

masterlist

see playlist for the story here!

The rest of the week was a blur after Annalise had accepted the viscount’s proposal. She could barely keep up with Lady Bridgerton and Daphne and the speed with which they planned the wedding. They’d travel back to Mayfair tomorrow to prepare for the wedding which was set to take place on the Friday of the upcoming week. Invites had been sent the morning after the viscount – Anthony, he’d insisted Annalise call him – announced the news. Lady Bridgerton nearly fainted in excitement, simply ecstatic that her eldest son was finally set to marry. She and Daphne immediately snatched Annalise away from the rest of the family, questioning her on all her favorite things to ensure the wedding would be to her taste. 

Annalise lay in bed that night, relieved to finally have a moment to herself. Once the wedding plans were set, Thomas hadn’t said a word to Annalise. She supposed she should have expected it, Annalise was nothing but a burden to Thomas from the moment their parents died – she was another man’s burden now. Still, her brother’s neglect hurt, her eyes stinging with tears as she thought about how utterly alone she was. No mother to hold her, explain to her what she should expect of married life. No father to give her away with a kiss on her forehead. 

A gentle knock on the door pulled Annalise out of her thoughts. She sat up, wiping away the tears with the backs of her hands. 

“Come in,” she said, her voice hoarse.

It was Anthony who opened the door, peering inside with a smile.

“I’m not interrupting am I?” 

Annalise sniffled, “No, not at all Lor-” Anthony narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Anthony,” the name felt foreign on her tongue. 

He smiled, walked towards her, and took a seat next to her. When he noticed the red around her nose and puffy eyes, his smile fell, replaced with furrowed brows.

“What’s wrong?” He said his hand on the small of her back. She shivered at the touch. 

She inhaled, “Nothing, I suppose I’m just nervous is all.” 

He tilted his head, not entirely convinced with her answer. 

“Your brother hasn’t spoken with you all week” he deduced, seeing right through Annalise.

Her eyes fell to the floor. 

“Annalise,” He lifted her chin with a single finger, “let me tell you a little secret” He smiled.

“One of the perks of becoming a Bridgerton is that you now have three annoying, meddlesome but loving brothers at your disposal. Benedict has already grown quite fond of you. They’re all glad that you’re to join our family," he continued. 

She couldn’t hold back the tears that fell from her eyes, eliciting a hushing coo from Anthony who wiped away the tears as they fell. When that didn’t stop her tears, he pulled her into his chest protectively. She sank into his embrace, shoulders shaking, now full-on sobbing. He only held her, fingers raking through her hair, until she calmed.

She pulled away, “My apologies, I didn't mean to be a burden – and oh!" She sighed, "I ruined your coat,” tears welled in her eyes again, looking down at the wet patch on his lapels, emitting a soft laugh from the man before her.

“Annalise,” he waited until she looked up at him again before continuing, “you are no burden, you are to be my wife and I intend to make you a happy one at that” he touched his forehead to hers, his hands held her face. After she’d calmed again, he brought her forehead to his lips, pressing a soft kiss. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

They returned to Mayfair the next day, Annalise found herself already missing the country air. She sat in the drawing room, waiting for her brother – the butler had sent for her, informing her that Thomas needed to speak with her. The doors opened and he walked in, Annalise rose but he waved a hand motioning for her to remain seated. He took a seat in front of her after grabbing a glass and filling it with a drink.

He cleared his throat, “Annalise. I’m not entirely sure how you managed to catch the eye of the viscount but no matter, now that you are set to marry you must know your duty is to produce an heir as soon as you can to secure your position as viscountess” he said, not a hint of warmth in his voice – only cold, distant calculation. 

Annalise was taken aback. It’d been nearly two weeks since he’d spoken to her and this was the first thing he said? 

“Do you understand?” He barked, impatient.

She nodded, unable to gather the proper words to voice what she wanted to say to him.

He clapped his hands, “Well, congratulations then.” With that, he rose, leaving just as quickly as he’d arrived.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Anthony watched Annalise stare out the carriage her fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the beads of her bodice. He wished there was something he could say that’d rid her of all her worries and fears. If only it were as easy as saying a few words. He learned quite early on that Annalise did not believe in words, throughout their week at Aubrey Hall before the wedding, he tried his absolute hardest to get her to see that he meant no harm. To his surprise, it worked, even if it was only a little. She no longer stiffened at his touch or avoided his gaze. He’d have to be patient and Anthony was content with that. As long as Annalise felt safe, he’d wait an eternity if need be. 

He could see Aubrey Hall in the distance. Annalise turned to him, brows furrowed and lips parted. She wanted to say something but he could see her hesitance.

“Yes?” He encouraged her.

“Why did you pardon Thomas from providing a dowry?”

Ah. “I think it’s quite clear I am in no need of one.”

She wasn’t satisfied, “then why did you provide payment to Thomas?”

Anthony sighed, “I did what I had to do to ensure your brother would not be a hindrance to my proposal.”

He hoped this would be enough for her. She was already heartbroken by her brother’s behavior during the past week, he did not want to add to that heartbreak by telling her of her brother's plans to marry her off to another man who'd promised payment.

She turned away, satisfied enough for now he assumed. The entire ride she’d been silent and now that he’d heard her voice, he yearned for more.

“What did my family say about me when you were conducting your interrogations of them? I’d wager they voiced some disdain?” He asked.

“They had some grievances,” she said with a teasing smile on her face. God, he’d do anything to see more of the smile that brought him to his knees.

“But rest assured, your sisters adore you. And your brothers admire you very much. You raised them well.” 

His brows rose in surprise. He’d half expected her time with his siblings to deter her from his proposal and point out every little flaw Anthony possessed. The carriage stopped, signaling their arrival. Anthony stepped out of the carriage first, offering a hand to Annalise after.

“Welcome home, Lady Bridgerton,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand – eliciting yet another timid smile from his wife as she took in the view before her. Anthony gazed at the woman before him, she was entirely unaware of the way she made his heart swell. No matter, she’ll find out soon enough. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Night had fallen, and the stars glistened in the sky as Annalise gazed up at the sky from her seat at the windowsill. Much of the afternoon was spent with the maids, setting up her belongings in the master bedroom while Anthony left to tend to some business as viscount. She looked around, pastel blue and gold peppered the room, and her eyes fell to the bed – her stomach fluttered. Violet paid her a visit before the wedding, she’d wanted to explain the matters of the wedding night to her. Though she was vague, Annalise understood the basics of what she’d meant to say and it caused knots in her stomach every time she remembered the duty she must fulfill. She repeatedly reminded herself that Anthony had been nothing but gentle and patient with her, that it would be alright but it was no use. She couldn’t quell the anxiety rising to the surface. 

As if on cue, the doorknob turned and Anthony entered. Like that night in the library, he’d abandoned his coat and vest. Dressed only in a shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up and hair disheveled. He looked divine. She found it difficult to look away, caught in a daze as he approached her. A hand snaked up the side of her neck, finding the nape and pulling her in for a kiss. 

Oh. 

Butterflies swarmed her stomach, feeling lightheaded as he kissed her. 

“Hello wife,” he murmured against her lips, lips curved into a smile.

She looked up at him, cheeks heating up. When she didn’t respond, he bent down, arms wrapped around her lower body as he lifted her and moved them over to the bed. 

“Anthony!” She squealed in surprise, a laugh escaping her.

He placed her on the bed, she rested up on her elbows but before she could speak any further, he knocked her arms down causing her to fall back onto the plush pillows underneath. She giggled, trying to swat his hands away to no avail, he wrapped his hands around the backs of her knees, yanking her towards him at the edge of the bed. She stared up at him, mouth agape at his impatience. 

“You,” he leaned down, “are,” his lips trailed her jaw, pausing for a moment before continuing. He kissed gently at a sensitive spot underneath her jaw, moving down to her neck leaving a burning path of kisses. His breath tickled her skin. She shuddered.

“Exquisite,” he finished. He returned to her face, lips meeting hers in a feverish kiss while his hands trailed up her arms, leaving goosebumps all over her skin. He pulled at the front of her robe, eager to be rid of the fabric boundary between them. She stirred, breaking the kiss. Her hands shot down to his. 

“Wait!” She exclaimed, breathless from the kiss. 

He looked down at her in confusion but halted his advances. She dragged herself up, making room for her to sit up on the bed. Her hair fell over her shoulders, grateful for the extra cover they provided her. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly self-conscious and afraid of what he’d think of her imperfections. He sat in front of her, the bed shifted with his weight. 

“What is it? Are you afraid? We can wait, if you’d like,” he reassured, he reached for her hands. 

Their hands intertwined, he brought one of hers up to his lips and placed a kiss into her palm.

“No - it’s just that,” she hesitated, at a loss for words.

“Annalise, whatever it is you can tell me,” he whispered, eyes searching her face.

She inhaled, bracing herself.

“I’m afraid you’ll find me unpleasing,” she admitted, looking away from him.

He instantly took her face in his hands, forcing her attention back to him. 

“You are bewitching, Annalise. There’s not a woman in the world who can compare to your beauty. Look at me,” he commanded, eyes dark with desire.

She held his gaze, “I have scars.” 

Pain flashed across his face at her confession. His eyes searched her face, brow set in determination.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

She only nodded.

“I need you to say it, Annalise,” eyes narrowing to emphasize his point.

“I trust you,” she whispered.

His hands made their way back to her waist, at the front of her robe where he held them for a moment. He looked at her once again, waiting for her confirmation. She nodded. He wasted no time in undoing the robe, letting it slip off her shoulders. She shivered at the sudden rush of air against her bare skin. He moved her hair out of the way and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“Turn around.”

She obeyed, turning towards the pillows and away from the man who was driving her crazy with need.

He gently guided her down to the bed, laying her on her stomach. Her bare back faced him and she wiggled as his hands traced down her spine. Her eyes fluttered shut as she steadied her breathing. She felt him lean down, he started kissing across her shoulders, down her spine until he reached the bottom of her torso. A tear slipped from her eyes when she realized what he was doing. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Anthony winced when he saw the scars peppering his wife’s fair skin. She was so delicate. He couldn’t imagine the horrors she’d been through which led to the marks across her skin. Some were long, some were short, some were circles – cigar burns he realized. His vision turned red, rage filling his chest. He inhaled deeply. Thomas would pay for his abuse. But right now, his wife needed him. He pushed away thoughts of revenge as he laid kisses on Annalise’s back. He felt her shudder with each kiss as he made his way down her back, taking great care to place a kiss on each and every scar, he intended to make her forget about the pain she’d endured all these years.

Once he’d finished peppering her back with kisses, he turned her around to face him. Her eyes were teary but she smiled, leaning up from the pillow to kiss him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His own hands trailed down to her waist, pulling her into an embrace. He needed to be closer, closer. He pulled away, eliciting a whine from the beautiful girl beneath him.

“Oh, just a moment you minx,” he teased.

He lifted his shirt over his head and undid his trousers. Annalise’s eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest. 

“Annalise,” he bent down to kiss her once more, “this may hurt. If, at any moment you feel discomfort, please tell me and I will stop at once” he held her gaze to emphasize his point. 

“I promise,” she nodded.

“Good girl,” he praised, placing a kiss on her forehead. A blush spread across her cheeks. He wanted to devour her when she blushed like that.

He prepared himself, positioning himself against her. She wiggled nervously, looking up at him in anticipation. He pushed forward, sinking into absolute bliss. He kept himself from groaning as he scanned Annalise’s face for signs of discomfort. Her face scrunched at the sudden invasion but she let out a moan and he lost all restraint. He pushed forward again, watching her carefully. He caught her lips in a burning kiss as they continued. Anthony hadn’t known pleasure like this despite all the women he’d been with in the past. He could spend the rest of his life sinking deeper into the magnificent woman before him and it still wouldn’t be enough for him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Annalise spent the next few weeks learning to be a viscountess and visiting the townspeople who lived under Anthony’s jurisdiction. She spent the days managing the day to day affairs of their estate while the nights were reserved for her husband and his endless doting of her. She fell deeper and deeper in love with him as the days passed. She'd almost forgotten about her past until a reminder came knocking on her door.

“My lady, there’s a visitor here to see you.” She made her way to the door, curious as to who could possibly be visiting her. She stopped in her tracks when she saw her brother standing at the doorway, waiting for an invitation to come in. 

“Thomas,” she said in surprise.

“Hello, sister. May I come in?” She nodded, turning away from the door to lead him towards the drawing room. Unsure of what to say, she asked, “what brings you here, brother?” 

“I’ve just come to check on you, dear sister. How has married life been treating you?” 

She looked at him in suspicion, “it’s been well, thank you.” 

He looked at her expectantly, “And?” 

“I’m not sure what more there is to say, brother.” 

“It has been weeks since you’ve been married. Are you not with child yet, girl?” He said, his patience wearing thin.

She gaped at her brother, unsure of how to respond. As if by some miracle, she heard familiar footsteps coming in from the foyer. She sighed, grateful for the return of her husband. Anthony walked in, attention on removing his gloves when he looked up and staggered.

“Mr. Carrington?” 

Thomas rose from his seat, “Lord Bridgerton. How good it is to see you again.” 

Anthony nodded, lips set in a tight smile. 

“What brings you here, is everything alright?” He questioned, taking a seat next Annalise and resting a protective hand on her thigh.

“I came to check on my sister, Lord Bridgerton. I’d hoped to hear the happy news of becoming an uncle but alas, that is not the case. Perhaps, Annalise is not taking her role seriously” he said pointedly, looking at Annalise with disdain.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Carrington?” Anthony spat.

“I only mean to say Annalise requires a firm hand if she is to-”

Anthony held up his hand, stopping Thomas before he could finish. 

“You come into my home to insult my wife?” His voice hardened.

Thomas chuckled nervously, “she is my sister, Bridgerton.”

“Lord Bridgerton. She is no longer your concern, Mr. Carrington,” he said, every word dripping with anger as he stared Thomas down in disgust.

Thomas opened his mouth to defend himself but Anthony rose from his seat and crossed the room. He grabbed Thomas by the lapels. Annalise stood, afraid of Anthony’s sudden outburst.

“Has Annalise said something to you? She is a foolish girl, always looking for someone else to blame,” Thomas spit out.

“You are a pathetic excuse for a man, I’m ashamed to even be in the same room as you. Get the bloody hell out of my house before I decide to do to you what you did to that little girl who was under your care!” His voice bounced off the walls, Annalise flinched. She watched in awe as Anthony defended her. Finally, he let go of her brother, shoving him forward as he did. Without saying anything else, Thomas straightened his jacket and left. 

Anthony sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning back to Annalise. He walked towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist, when he saw the tears welled up in her eyes, he pulled her into his chest.

“Are you alright?” He mumbled into her hair.

She nodded, pulling back. She sniffled once, composing herself enough to give him a reassuring smile that said she was okay.

“Thank you,” she said. He leaned down to kiss her in response and when he pulled away, Annalise sighed, resting her head against her husband’s chest, grateful that she had not fled her fate. 

[lets-just-daydream]

I Loved You First - Part 10

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Chapter 10: The Disappointments Sunset Brings

Sunset was nearly here and you felt like you were about to cry when Astarion murmured against your skin that Cazador would be here soon. You stood from your bed with a huff and straightened your dress, your face crestfallen. Astarion stood in front of you and cupped your cheeks in his hand and gave you a tender, loving kiss which you returned. 

Neither of you said it, but it was a parting kiss. One that broke your heart more than it already was. 

“Fret not, my love. One thing about me is that I am very sneaky,” Astarion reassured you. “But unfortunately for now I won't be able to sit next to you at meal times.”

“Will you still come and drink from me?” You asked, looking up at Astarion with wide eyes. 

“It would be impossible to keep me from you,” Astarion whispered. “Come, my master will be here soon,” he said with a bitter sneer. 

Before Astarion left your room, he tucked the necklace away under his shirt and you sighed sadly before following him. All of Cazador's spawn stood flanking the doors of the palace and you stood in the middle, glancing at Astarion before Leon stepped forward and opened the doors to the palace, showing the dark sky outside before your eyes landed on Cazador who stepped inside. 

“Fetch my things from the carriage,” he said and Leon was out of the door in an instant. Cazador's eyes then landed on you and he gave you a wide smile, his fangs showing. “My dear.”

“Welcome home, my lord,” you said with a stiff curtsy. 

Cazador took your hand in his with a tut before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “We're to be wed soon.”

“And it's then that I will call you by your name, my lord.”

Cazador scoffed out a laugh and strolled through the entryway, with you and his other spawn following. “Have you had dinner yet?” Cazador asked. 

“No, I was waiting for you,” you said, trying to keep on his good side. If he even had one. 

“How precious,” Cazador said with a smile, entering the dining room. “You should eat whenever you like, don't wait for me, my dear.”

“You want me to dine alone?” 

“Ask someone else to join you if you get lonely,” Cazador said, hoping that would placate you. “Invite a friend over or something. I don't know what pleases you ladies.”

You weren't sure what happened to Cazador on his travels but he seemed less attentive. Not that it was unwelcome, but it did make you uneasy for some reason, though what that was, eluded you for now. He took his place at the table and you walked around to your chair where Petras pulled it out for you.

“Thank you, Petras,” you said with a smile. 

Cazador glared up at the spawn and he hurried away to the buffet where he grabbed a decanter of wine and filled Cazador's golden goblet. He took a long drink, gulping down what you were sure definitely wasn't wine. He held the goblet out and Petras refilled it for him. 

Cazador looked at the smaller but still sizable spread of food on the table and glared at Petras. “Why is this spread of food so meager?” Cazador barked, glaring up at the poor spawn.

Petras froze. “A-apologies, mas-”

You jumped in to Petras’ defense. “That's my doing, my lord.”

Cazador's eyes snapped to you and he raised a brow and you continued. “With your small appetite and my parents’ departure, the food was far too much, so I told the cook that they really didn't need to prepare so much food. It was just going to waste.” 

“We need not concern ourselves with waste and modesty . This is Szarr Palace and I am Lord Cazador Szarr. We may be due to wed in a week but I’d remind you to know your place,” Cazador said, giving you a look that was just shy of a soul-crushing glare.

You wanted to yell back at him that you hated him, that he was cruel and he was a vampire who didn't eat so why did it matter, anyway but you held your tongue. 

“Apologies, Lord Cazador. It won't happen again,” you murmured. 

The pair of you sat in silence as you slowly ate and he slipped his wine. The silence stretched on and you scrambled in your mind to fill the void. “How were your travels? I'd love to hear all about it,” you said, shifting Cazador's attention back to you. 

You felt the tension leave every spawn's body as Cazador leaned closer to you, his expression and mood seemingly shifting. “My travels were fruitful. I've further secured my… well, I suppose our place in the upper elite of the city. Soon, we will be visiting the grand dukes and hosting them here. Perhaps a garden party one fine day. What do you think?” 

You gulped. So he must have been away working on something for the ritual if he's talking about forays during the day. You found it unlikely that he was just rubbing elbows with Baldur's Gate elite. It took every strain of your concentration not to glance over at Astarion to see his reaction to this revelation, but you managed. 

“Sounds great,” you managed to say while bringing your drink to your lips. 

The rest of Cazador's spawn lined the room and he looked around at them until his eyes fell on Astarion. “There is a package among my things. Bring it to me.”

Cazador's sharp and blunt demands made you uneasy, but Astarion obeyed, leaving the room for a moment before returning with a travel case. 

“Not that one, you fool ,” Cazador sneered. “A package. In delicate papers.”

“My lord,” you gasped. “He made a simple mistake.” 

You saw a corner of Astarion's lip quirk before he left the room again. 

“He is my sp- servant and I treat him as he deserves to be treated.”

You tried to keep your face neutral as Astarion entered the room again, presumably with the correct item because Cazador gestured to him to put it on the table without another word. It looked to be some sort of clothing wrapped in fine papers based on its appearance.

“Thank you, Astarion,” you said as the pale elf resumed his spot at the edge of the room. 

Cazador's eyes flickered to you and his features betrayed a moment of deep irritation before he settled back into a neutral expression. “You don't need to waste your kindness on the servants .” 

Cazador all but spat his words and that familiar uneasiness gnawed at your chest. At that, a few of the spawn looked down at the ground and shifted uncomfortably. You stiffened at Cazador's cruel words and for a moment you didn't have a response. The spawn… Servants… Whatever you called them, they were nice to you and it was clear that Cazador had no care for them.

“You may not wish to, but I prefer to show kindness to those who deserve it.”

Cazador let out a hiss from the back of his throat as he seemed to stew over your words. “So be it,” he said, jaw stiff before downing the rest of his drink. He took a deep breath before reaching for the mysterious package and placing it in front of you. “I've brought you a wedding gift.” 

Your eyes widened and you looked at the package before locking eyes again with Cazador. 

“Go on, open it.” 

You took the package into your lap and pulled at the layers of papers and pulled out a delicate, lacy nightgown. You froze and your eyes slid over to Cazador before you looked again at the suggestive piece of clothing. 

“I do hope you'll wear it on our wedding night,” Cazador chuckled darkly. 

“My lord!” You gasped, embarrassed and dropped the clothing back into the papers it was wrapped in. “Th-this is highly inappropriate!”

Your cheeks flushed and you spared a half-glance at Astarion who despite the circumstances, looked to be holding it together. But the clench in his jaw and the hardness in his eyes was all-telling.

You wrapped the papers back over the nightgown and bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your cool. Cazador leaned across to whisper in your ear.

“There are other accessories that go with it, but those are for my eyes only,” Cazador whispered, his breath fanning on the skin of your neck. 

Your skin crawled and you were glad his face was to your ear so Cazador couldn't see the involuntary twitch of your lip. It took every bit of your willpower not to push him away and stab his tongue with your fork. But you instead opted for a shy laugh, hoping that would be enough of a response for him. 

“Now, I'm weary from my travels. Good night, my lady.” 

Cazador rose from his seat and left the room without another word. You sighed, tamping down the urge to crumple the package to the floor and stamp your feet over it. But you still had company in the form of Cazador's spawn. Footsteps approached from behind you and you recognised Violet's voice. 

“Thank you for standing up for us, my lady. Your kindness is unmatched.” 

You offered her a smile and you were met with nodding heads and murmurs of agreement from everyone around the room. 

“I just… don't like the way he talks to you,” you murmured.

“We're quite used to it, but it's nice to receive some true kindness, anyway,” she said before stepping back into her place. 

“You can all leave, you don't have to stand there all night,” you said. The spawn all exchanged glances, looking uneasy. “Honestly. If Cazador gives you any strife I'll tell him… I felt uncomfortable eating my dinner with all of you just standing there watching me,” you said with a laugh. 

Hushed titters from the spawn sounded before some of them filed out of the room, but Astarion stayed where he was. 

“Oh! Petras,” you said as he walked by and he froze, fear on his features. “Did Astarion give you the things?” 

Petras' expression softened from fear into relief. “Yes, my lady is very generous. I didn't ask for that much.” 

“Think nothing of it. Please, go enjoy your night.”

Petras gave you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before leaving and judging by his expression, he would probably be out on the town tonight, luring some poor Baldurian to their doom. 

You sighed sadly and slumped back in your chair, dropping Cazador's gift onto the seat next to you. Now that Cazador was back, you needed to get away from the palace, even if just temporarily. You pictured your country home in your mind's eye and you craved to go back, even just temporarily. But your parents would never allow you back home. You had no friends to visit, for they all lived near the estate where your family home was. What would it take to make some friends here, in Baldur's Gate? Could you even do so? You wondered instead if you could go out on the town, even just for a while to have fun, laugh with other people and drink until your belly was full and your vision swam. Dancing to regaled songs from a bard, drinking something other than the wine on offer, the sound of life and laughter and merriment. 

Now that the thought had latched on, and it was actually feasible, the idea excited you, actually. Getting out of the palace and enjoying the nightlife that Baldur’s Gate had to offer that you hadn’t yet experienced. And you weren't married yet, Cazador didn't own you, so what could be the harm? 

Footsteps ahead shook you from your thoughts. “Well, that was quite the display,” Astarion chuckled as he stepped toward the table and around to stand at your side. “Are you alright? I don't think I've ever seen anyone stand up to Cazador and live to tell the tale.” 

You shrugged, looking up at Astarion. “I suppose. I just don't see the need in his senseless cruelty.” 

“Well, that's Cazador,” Astarion said. “Senseless cruelty.” 

“Hmph.” 

Astarion exhaled a laugh. “You're adorable when you pout.”

“That was also quite crass of him, to give me a gift like that in front of you all.” Astarion grimaced. “Yes, well, while it’s not explicitly necessary he was marking his territory.” Astarion’s voice lowered and his lips came to your ear before he continued. “But I suppose I have him beat, there.”

You stared into your lap as your cheeks flushed. Astarion’s smooth words in comparison to Cazador’s attempts at wooing you were night and day. It was so effortless for Astarion to make you feel like some blushing maid. Cazador on the other hand… he made your skin crawl. The time spent in his absence was the best time you’d had at Szarr palace so far, thanks to Astarion, mostly. But even some of the other spawn had begun to warm up to you. 

“Now,” Astarion said. “Shall we get you up to bed?”

You sighed, not feeling tired and feeling more cooped up now that Cazador was back and the nightlife calling to you. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for bed yet.”

“Oh?” Astarion hummed, a brow quirking.

“Would you take me out to a tavern?” You blurted out. 

Astarion’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“Oh, come on!” You whined. “I’m not married yet and I’d like to enjoy this little bit of freedom while I can!”

“But Cazador…”

“Doesn’t own me. And if he tries to blame you, I won’t stand for it.” Astarion wanted to say yes. He wanted to grant you every single thing you asked for. Even with you promising to stick your neck out for him, the risk was too great. He knew that if Cazador found out that he had escorted you out to the cesspools where he found his victims, he may not even live to see another night. 

“I want to…” Astarion whispered. “But even with your insistence, Cazador will make me live to regret it more than anything. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You frowned and you almost wanted to beg but it would be selfish to put Astarion at such a risk. “I understand.” Astarion looked crestfallen at having disappointed you and you gave him a smile to reassure him that you didn’t hold it against him. You got up and left the dining room, Astarion watching as you walked away before he glanced down and scoffed, seeing that Cazador’s gift lay forgotten on the chair. 

You made it to your room and let out a grumbled sigh. You would have loved for Astarion to take you out and join you in letting loose, but you couldn’t force him - you would never force him into anything. You weren’t his master and even when you eventually did become mistress of this palace, you wouldn't order him or any of the other spawn around.

And you certainly wouldn't let Cazador of all people order you around. A thought struck you. Astarion may not join you and Cazador didn’t own you, and you could slip out, have fun and then slip back in with everyone being none the wiser. 

The more you thought about it, the more that excitement bubbled in your chest at the juvenile idea of sneaking out. You rushed over to your wardrobe and picked out a plain dress, you wanted to blend in - you weren’t stupid and you knew you could attract the wrong kind of attention if you dressed in your usual lavish clothes. But while the dress was plain, it still accentuated your favourite features. 

You pulled the dress on, let your hair loose and hesitated before opening your minimal kit of makeup and blotted some stain on your lips. You looked at yourself in the full length mirror and a small giggle escaped your lips. Excitement. You grabbed your coin purse and opened your bedroom door, checking the corridor was clear before stepping out and quietly making your way to the staircase and descending. Your heel hit the landing tile with a startling clack and you retreated your foot back onto the carpeted stairs before looking around. No one came out from the oppressing shadows and berated you so you took a moment to slip your shoes off before landing on the tiles with your bare feet and quietly crossing the entryway. You made it to the ornate palace doors and slipped your shoes back on before quietly opening them and sneaking out into the fresh night air. 

You hadn’t truly experienced the freedom of the night since arriving at Szarr palace. You’d been out on the balcony a couple of times but that hardly counted you figured, as you walked across the cobbles to the gates of the grounds. You opened a gate and it creaked open but before you could let yourself get spooked by the grating sound, you made your escape with a smile on your lips as you trotted into the bustling nightlife of the city. 

It occurred to you as you walked through the cobbled lamp-lit streets that the lights were dim in the dark of the night but you could still swear that the night out here was brighter than inside Szarr palace, even during the day. You walked around and tried to keep your ear out for rowdy laughter and drunken singing. You weren’t exactly sure what a tavern sounded like but you figured that was your best bet. And you were correct. You followed as the faint noise of chatter slowly grew until it was nearly deafening, a chorus of laughter, bard-song and people chattering away, leading you to a place you now read the sign for: Elfsong Tavern. 

You hummed and approached the door, quickly stepping aside with a gasp as it swung open and two men stumbled out, one seemingly holding the other in a headlock. You took the opportunity to slip through the door and were quickly engulfed in warm torchlight, the smell of beer hung in the air and your shoes stuck slightly to the sticky floor. But you were excited. This is what you were here for. Astarion or no, you were going to make the most of this night while you could. 

You stepped through, approaching the bar slowly as you took in your surroundings. The innkeeper gave you a onceover and exhaled through his nose gruffly. “I’ve not seen you around here before.” You froze for a moment, wide-eyed. The man behind the bar was young, long hair framing his clean-shaven face. You couldn't deny it, he was handsome. “I-I’m new to the city,” you stammered. 

Not technically a lie. 

“What’ll you have?”

You blinked, your mouth hanging open slightly.

“To drink ,” the innkeeper said. 

“Umm…” You hesitated. 

Honestly your train of thought hadn’t made it that far yet. 

Sneak out. Check. 

Find a tavern. Check.

Make it inside. Check. 

Order a drink. Hmm…

“A mug of ale for the lady, Alan,” an elf with short brown hair and green eyes sitting on the stool next to you finally said. 

The innkeeper, Alan, turned away and grabbed a mug to the barrels lining the back wall.

You turned and looked at the stranger with a smile. “Thank you.”

He, too, was handsome with long elven ears, strong jawline and kind face. ‘Wow, Baldur's Gate is full of attractive people and I've ended up with Cazador…’ you thought to yourself. You caught yourself and shame tinged at the thought. Then you recalled your exchange with him earlier and you landed on the fact that Cazador’s attitude and disregard for his vampire spawn was what made him least attractive of all.

“Even without saying you’re new in the city, it’s painfully obvious,” he chuckled. 

You winced. “Is it?”

He nodded as your drink was placed before you and he tossed a coin over the bar. Your hand flew to your coin purse. “Oh no- you don’t have to-” You stammered. 

“Join me for a chat while you have your drink, if you like,” he said. 

You found yourself seeking the seat that was conveniently at your hip and sitting, taking the mug and swallowing a sip. The liquid filled your mouth and you swallowed it down quickly, coughing at the bitter taste. 

“Don’t like it?” He laughed as he reached across and patted your back. 

“It’s not bad,” you managed to sputter out. “Just not used to… ale?”

The stranger nodded in understanding and stuck his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Ailas.”

You took his hand and introduced yourself in turn. 

“So, newcomer to Baldur’s Gate,” he said. “How did you find yourself here?”

Your brows raised quickly at his question and the last thing you wanted was to talk about your… predicament. “It’s a long story.”

“It always is around here,” he replied. 

You instead settled for small talk, avoiding mentioning where you currently reside and your… relationship with Cazador Szarr. One drink turned to two and two quickly turned into four as you laughed and chatted, your heart feeling light as you put the misery of your situation out of your head. Your mind swam with the several drinks you’d had and Ailas smoothed his hair over with his hand, an unspoken look behind his eyes that you vehemently decided you were going to ignore. 

The air around you suddenly felt too stifling and you looked around before turning back to your drinking partner.

“Excuse me a moment,” you said as you stepped down from your seat and headed off in the direction of the bathroom. 

You stepped inside and took a moment to take a deep breath. The drink, the stuffy tavern air, the music and chatter had finally overwhelmed you and you approached the basin to pat some cool water onto your warm face. You’d had your fun and a few drinks and it was probably time to head back to the palace. You weren’t exactly sure how long you’d been out but a couple of hours had passed at least, surely. How you were going to be able to sneak back into the palace in the state you were in without rousing anyone, you didn't know. 

You stepped out of the bathroom and approached Ailas at the bar. “Thank you for a fantastic night.”

He leaned back onto the bar and offered you a smile. “The pleasure was all mine. What are your plans now, then?” He asked, a suggestive lilt in his voice. 

You pressed your lips together as you thought about how long you'd been out. “I must get going home.”

You stepped away and turned to leave but your drinking partner grabbed your arm and held you in place. “Alone?” He asked, his voice tinged with hope. 

You tugged your arm from his grip, your good mood quickly turning sour. “Yes. Alone.”

He stood and followed you through the tavern and out into the quieter cool night. “Why don't I join you?” He asked, one of his arms snaking around your stomach from behind. 

Your blood ran cold and you winced as you felt him pull you close. This was not what you wanted when you came out tonight - you just needed to let loose and enjoy a bit of freedom before whatever marriage with Cazador was going to be like. 

“No. Let me go ,” you slurred as you tried to pull away from him, but gods he was stronger than he looked and the drinks were making you groggy. 

You let out a frustrated huff as he held you to him, leading you away from the tavern with a chuckle. “I knew you'd see it my way. Trust me, you won't regret this.” 

Before you could get too far from the safety of the tavern, Ailas’ hands dropped from your body. You breathed a sigh of relief, figuring maybe he really was taking no for an answer. You turned to look at him but caught sight of him just as he landed on the floor. You whipped around and pulled your skirts away as you looked down at him. 

“What in the sweet hells are you doing out here?!” An angry but very familiar voice asked you. 

Your head shot up and you saw Astarion frowning at you before he spared a glare at the elf now sprawled in the dirt. You felt embarrassment wash over you as Astarion now came around and grabbed you by the elbow and led you away from the scene. 

“Answer me. What are you doing here?” 

“I- I just came out for the night,” you rushed out, wrenching your arm from his grip. “Didn't think this would happen.”

“You came out here alone ? Why would you do something so stupid?” Astarion questioned, his voice slightly shrill.

You gulped and looked down at the ground. “I didn't do anything wrong. I just wanted to enjoy the night and you said no, and I figured there'd be no harm.” 

You could tell by the look on Astarion’s face that he was livid and you shied away from him.

“Are you upset with me?” You slurred, the adrenaline now wearing off and your head feeling the drinks once again now that imminent danger had passed. 

Astarion's angry face softened and he stepped closer to you. “No, of course not. I understand why you came out but there are people out there with… dubious intentions.” He looked pointedly at Ailas who was now coming to. 

‘People like you?’ You wanted to ask, remembering what he had told you about Cazador's tastes for fresh blood. You vanished the thought and sighed. 

Astarion gently guided you away from the tavern before he turned back and wordlessly knocked Ailas on the back of the head to knock him out and hauled him up on his shoulder. 

“Were you out to bring someone to Cazador?” You asked, eyeing the unconscious elf on Astarion's shoulder.

Astarion exhaled through his nose and nodded. 

“Does it have to be him? He was my companion tonight.” 

Astarion gritted his teeth and his red eyes darted over to yours. “Yes. I came out to find some low-life, and I found one.”

“But- He didn't do anything wrong.” 

This caused Astarion to stop and turn to face you. “If you had just stayed in the palace and not come out, you wouldn't have met with the horrors of the night,” Astarion said stiffly. “Unfortunately for you, your drinking buddy is a sleaze and I need to present Cazador with a fresh meal so I don't get flayed tomorrow. So please excuse my self-preservation.”

You blinked and looked down at the ground. You felt awful. Complicit in the date that was about to befall Ailas.”Astarion…” 

The pale elf tugged on the elf on his shoulder and continued the walk up to the palace, wordlessly. You didn't understand, of course you couldn't. You didn't understand centuries of torture, bloodlust and wishing for the sweet release of death, knowing it would never come. Astarion didn't hold it against you but your sweet words and kind heart weren't going to sway the outcome of this evening. 

You crossed the park and saw the palace looming above you, an uncomfortable but familiar pit settling in your gut. You slowed down and looked up the monstrous building tearfully. Astarion slowed beside you and followed your line of sight, a sigh escaping his lips. 

“I don't want to go back,” you whispered. 

“I know.” 

“What if I just… ran away?” You asked, your drunken mind letting your fantasies take control of your thoughts. “What if we just both disappeared tonight and never returned?” 

“If it were that simple,” Astarion said with a bitter laugh. “I would have done that hundreds of years ago.” 

You looked to see his brows furrowed in displeasure as he looked up at the palace. Also with disdain and not entirely different to your own reasons. Being inside of it or looking at it from the outside, it was a soul-sucking place. The air about it was stale, cold and oppressive. Sure, the building itself was pretty but now that you knew what lurked within and the cruel master who controlled his spawn like puppets, you saw nothing but a prison. You dreaded returning. 

[justporo]

what is through a series of misunderstandings Tav, who is from Rashemen or some other faraway nation, thinks Astarion proposed when he propositioned her? Tav proceeds to plan their eventual wedding, and Astarion is very hesitant on correcting her because being engaged is a sure way to gain protection...but she has terrible taste in the wedding colors...oh now he's been sucked into the wedding planning too

Oh, I totally see how this idea has its charms. I personally really don't like miscommunication as a trope in most cases so let me flip this a little and talk about what I think would be the case with Fox and Astarion. Because I absolutely headcanon that Astarion and Fox get married at some point after joking about it for a long time:

Fox would want to get married, she definitely teases Astarion about it but not in a way that is like "why isn't there a ring on my finger yet". Quite frankly she wouldn't need the marriage as confirmation of Astarion's love for her or to prove her love to him. But she as someone who never had anything that lasts - the symbolism behind it would mean a lot to her. That being said she'd never pressure Astarion about it and leave it up to him if and when he proposes because she also gets that a commitment like that might scare him at first.

So, Astarion, Mr "You are perfect, every time", I can definitely see that he wants to marry once he's done some healing. He'd be so proud to call Fox his wonderful and amazing wife. Does he need it as proof? Not really, but it's still nice to know there's someone that is so willing to be his.

Fox... doesn't care overly much about luxury or aesthetics. At least not as much as Astarion does. Astarion might become a little, eh, Groom-zilla? He wants it to be perfect because he deserves it and ofc for Fox too. Maybe that's where Fox can come in to ground him a little while Astarion makes sure their love gets celebrated in an adequate manner.

All their friends ofc get invited, there's lots of champagne, Astarion embroiders the dress for Fox himself, there's lots of flowers (night blooming ofc), the cake has to has strawberries and chocolate.

After the ceremony there's a curious period where the happy couple isn't seen for a hot minute - wonder what has been going on during that time...

[ezvlli]

7x10 Speculations

So, today we got stills (x) and I have some theories. It’s going to be multiples theories at once, so buckle up.

First, I think the episode will pick on the same night when Athena’s house burns.

The dinner date – The aftermath of the Kim/Shannon situation

I think Buck’s night starts by him cooking dinner for his dinner date with Tommy. Tommy wouldn’t be here maybe because he’s still on shift. Then, he receives a phone call by Eddie who is losing his shit after the Kim/Shannon incident. Buck talks with Eddie who explains to him everything. Maybe Eddie will explain that Chris has locked himself in his room and both Kim and Marisol broke up with him. Then, the Diaz Parents are here. Why are they are? Same reason that Abuela was there for the wedding, YOLO. Maybe the Diaz parents are there to visits family, don’t forget that Tia Pepa also lives in LA. I think they invite themselves or Chris called them since he knew they were coming. But I think they invite themselves and they feel that something is fishy. Just after they arrive, Buck gets a phone call from Tommy and is happily leaving. Then the Diaz parents look at Eddie who has no one in his corner. Eddie explains the situation and even shows them the photo.

Buck then has his date with Tommy and everything seems to go well. Either during dinner or after, Buck gets a phone call telling him that Bobby and Athena are in the hospital. Tommy goes with him; Lou has been seen wearing the same clothes that he is during the dinner dates.

The Madney – Henren scene:

From interview, we have seen JLH wearing the same outfits that she’s wearing on the still and on that same interview, Aisha was wearing the same outfit that she’s wearing on the hospital stills. It seems to be a happy scene full of smile and sunshine. We know that’s not going to last. JLH had said either in interview or in a story that Chimney and Maddie will do something romantic for a couple. My guess is that after the Mara situation, Chim and Maddie invites the Wilson at their home and try to find a solution. There’s a theory that’s roaming around and I agree with that theory. I also think that the solution find would be Chimney and Maddie proposing to become Mara’s foster family until she gets permanently placed at the Wilson’s. Will they succeed on the episode? Not likely. The episode seem packed but I think they will be one step closer and that will set their storyline for S8. Then either Chim or Hen gets a phone call.

The hospital:

I think Chim and Hen would arrive alone and first. Upon seeing that neither Buck nor Eddie are there, I think they will call them and ask them to come. Then, the four of them are. Athena wakes up and asks for Bobby. Bobby is not doing well because well the guy is on a ventilator. So, not fun. Then the chief comes and informs them of Bobby’s retirement. Which is why they are shocked. I also think that Gerrard might replace them, we saw the actor on set. I have another theory so more on that later.

The day after: I think most of the episode will be spend during the morning after and I have multiple points.

The 118 will stay all night and the scene with Chief Simpson might be the day after.

All the 118 have a moment with Bobby. Eddie has one and will pray using the Bible gave him.

Hen might leave first, maybe to confront the congresswoman or to have a meeting with Dedra. She will then call Chim to explain the situation.

Buck and Eddie will go home and change. The next day, Eddie will have a talk with Christopher who will say that he’ll leave with his grandparents. Eddie will not take the news well and will have a talk with his dad. Since the previous season, Ramon became more and more supportive of Eddie so I think he will try to recomfort Eddie by telling that Christopher leaving for the summer might be a good thing. If one of the Diaz parents will attack Eddie, it would be Helena.

Before Chris leaves, Buck goes to say goodbye to Chris. Before leaving, Eddie and Chris will have a heart to heart and maybe Chris will tell that he’s mad at his dad and leave without forgiving him.

Athena will leave the hospital and goes to Amir. She feels that something else happen in the desert will find a photo that would prove that. She goes to Amir to asks for question. But then, the troubles come. I think that the Cartel are the one that burned Athena’s house. They have the resources. Also it won’t be the congresswoman; Bobby has no tied to her son’s death. Hen was in charge that night. Not Bobby. Bobby was away.

What about Gerrard?

The fact that he was bought from the flashback is interesting. The guy will for sure come back in S8. I think he will replace Bobby as captain. Gerrard is just one lucky son of a bitch.

Why wouldn’t it be one of the 118? Let me explain

We know for Chim that he doesn’t want to be captain. The guy had the job and prayed the Lord for Bobby to come back.

I think Eddie doesn’t want to be captain. He seems content in his position and might not want to be captain.

Buck is not ready to be Captain. Buck is the one that is more captain material. He was shown to have leadership skills. But he also lacks rigor and discipline. He would be a great captain, could even be better than Bobby. But now is too early and he still has a hot head temperament.

But then why not Hen? She was acting Captain twice while Bobby was gone, one in S6 when Bobby was in Florida because Athena’s dad had a heart-attack, once in S7 when Bobby was on a cruise. So, if Hen had been already been acting Captain twice, why not a third time? Two possibilities:

One. The chief refuses because of disciplinary reasons. She might got a medal because of the cruise ship situation. She still disobeyed orders. She might not be awarded because of that.

Two. The congresswoman. I don’t think we will see the last of her in S7. She is razor focus on ruining Hen’s life and she pulled out the Mara situation pretty easily. Who said that she doesn’t have another card in her hand?

[slushrottweiler]

hi slush!! i hope ur day is going super well!!

i would like to officially ask for dexx and rynne's hands in marriage please and thank you

🖐️💍❓

Rynne is truly honoured, but she has a few stipulations.

Dexx… might need you to explain yourself further.

[quietwingsinthesky]

just going to keep this au tucked into the back of my mind for the rest of the show btw. doctor who if his companions literally would not leave him alone. he keeps getting new companions and they’re just. integrated into the tardis family. bonding over how much they all love this weird pathetic spaceman who has enriched and/or ruined their lives.

[jessiescock]

anyway can't wait to see how the toshiro hater crowd who specifically dislike him bc they think hes getting in the way of farcille or that his crush on falin is somehow inherently bad will react to the marcille succubus. Im sure there's going to be many fantastic and insightful takes on that

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

Do y’all really think Fabian would go to college in America (specifically Ohio) to chase after a girl who, while he cares for and misses her (bc lbr they also trauma bonded on top of having a thing for each other), dumped him over a letter and ghosted him? Like, yeah maybe they found each other again later in life after Anubis, but it would not be because Fabian was chasing after her. Why must we refuse to let him have dreams and a life outside of Nina?

[johndonneswife]

someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck

[ishipmutualrespect]

-

[agdab]

god you know what. at the end of the day i don't think i really want anything to do with my family

[llycaons]

and in canon I can't think of a single scenario that would have more weight or more emotional significance that the admission of the name of the song on the cliffside reunion after more than 20 years. there's no use proposing after that, they might as well get married right then and there