#if she likes it then clearly it's an exception

[eddiesxangel]

Baby Makes Three | older!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Reader

2K request celebration

Requested by @alastorssimp

Summary: you and Eddie find out some very shocking news.

Cw: f!reader, unexpected pregnancy, age gap, older!Eddie, a reader in their late 20’s, a plus-size reader, Eddie is divorced, oral, protected and unprotected p in v, light choking, praise, happy ending. 3k words

An: Older!Eddie is the loml can’t believe we are having his baby 🤭

As the evening unfolds, you find yourself at a lively bar, celebrating your friend's farewell to her twenties. Although you've grown somewhat weary of late-night revelry, your friend insisted that you join her, believing that the celebration wouldn't be complete without you. As you step into the dimly lit bar, your gaze is immediately drawn to a captivating figure.

Amidst a group of older men, he sits on a bar stool, exuding an aura of distinctiveness. His cascading locks and adorned fingers, embellished with silver rings, capture your attention, except the finger where a wedding band would typically reside. Despite his smile, his deep brown eyes betray a hint of melancholy. In that moment, you feel an unwavering resolve to brighten his spirits.

As you observed him from across the room, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Although he didn't fit your usual preferences, there was something about him that intrigued you. He was an older man, rough around the edges, tall, dark, and handsome; what's not to like? The more you studied him, the more you estimated his age to be in his late 40s, perhaps 50.

Emboldened by a few drinks, you finally mustered the courage to approach him.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Hi,” you hear another handsome man turn to you, but he isn’t the one you were speaking to.

“I’m Y/N,” you reach your hand so he can shake it.

“Steve.” He smiles.

“Hi Steve, who’s your friend.” You turn to the man you’ve been eyeing all night.

“This here.” He pats his friend on the back, breaking him out of his conversation with another friend. " Is Eddie?” He smiles, and Eddie turns to his friend, confused as to why his name is being spoken.

“What?” He swallowed his beer.

“This is Y/N.” Steve smiles.

“Eddie.” He nods.

“What brings you here, Eddie?” Your voice is so sickly sweet, laced with desire.

“I don’t think you wanna know, Sugar.”

Normally, the name would deter you, but coming from him, it made your heart flutter.

“Try me?” You lean forward on the high-top table, emphasizing your breasts.

Eddie began to shy away, but Steve stepped in once again, “celebrating his divorce.” He claps Eddie’s back again. Clearly, they’ve been here a while.

“Oh well, that’s good news for me then.” You absentmindedly start to twirl your hair.

“And why’s that, Sweetheart?”

“Maybe you’ll find out later.” You wink and turn to go back to your friends.

“What was that?” Eddie was stunned.

“Dude, you gotta go after her! She was totally flirting with you.”

“Nah.” No way Eddie believed that… no way this sexy younger girl who looks like God's gift to earth wants to flirt with him.

“Um, yes, she wants you, man.”

“I could be her father.” Eddie scoffs.

“Hasn’t stopped me.” Steve laughs.

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve. How would something as hot as you go for a guy like him?

“If you don’t, I will.”

Eddie eventually gave in to Steve’s nagging and found you twenty minutes later. He offered to buy you a drink, and you gladly accepted.

You “awe” when they tell you he’s newly single and touch his arm while giving him a fake pout. Your pink lipgloss captures the light, and Edie can't stop staring at your mouth.

Eddie tried so hard to keep eye contact, but your body was so full and voluptuous that he couldn’t help but scan you a time or two.

“You wanna get out of here?” You ask after you finish your second drink with him. Your friends are who knows where, and you’re so horny you think your pussy might just explode.

“Yea, yea, let’s um, go.” Eddie couldn't hold back his smile. He was buzzing he was so excited.

You rested your hand on his upper thigh on the short car ride back to his home. His other leg bounced in anticipation, trying not to get hard already. But the simplest touch from you had him realizing. Your manicured fingers looked so good resting on his leg like that.

He pulled up to his small three-bedroom bungalow, which was enough for him and his two kids, who he had with his ex.

It was seriously a bachelor pad. He was not expecting company, so the place was disorganized, but you didn’t care to notice because your lips were attached to his neck the second he closed the door.

“Holy shit” he lets slip because is this really happening? Yes it is.

“Oh baby,” You hear Eddie moan again as your hands slip up his thighs to where his hard-on is starting to take form.

“You should relax; let me help you,” you say, hooking your fingers under his leather jacket and pushing it off his shoulders. Your eyes widen when you see the vast number of tattoos covering every inch of his bare arms.

“You wanna help me relax, baby girl?”

“Mmmmm, I do. You deserve it after all you've been through.” You nod your head, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. God, you're laying it on thick.

Eddie smirks and brushes your loose hair behind your ear, sending a chill up your spine. You watch him lean down to take your lips on his. Needy, passionate kisses were shared before you broke away and found his neck.

“Let’s take this into the bedroom,” he says, pushing you back towards the hallway. You giggle as the man handles you.

Eddie still can’t believe this is happening, but he’s going to take advantage of every second of it. He watches your tiny skirt ride up as you walk towards his bedroom. He can’t help but grab a handful of it, and you squeak.

Finding more confidence in himself, he tosses you on the bed, and you land with a giggle. You’re not used to being so manhandled, but you liked it. Eddie was much stronger than he looked, which only turned you on more.

You watch him as he removes his shirt before he lunges towards you. He has you naked and on your knees for him within minutes of entering the bedroom.

Your nimble fingers unbuckle his belt as you kneel before him. He thinks he will cum right then and there. The image of you looking up at him, your tick thighs pressed together, trying so hard to create some sort of friction for yourself, is so fucking hot to him.

“Fuck you’re big” Your jaw hangs slack in shock as his hard cock springs from the confines of his pants.

“I’m sure you can take it.”

Challenge accepted.

Eddie hadn’t had sex in a very long time. No way he was last if you keep this up. He thinks you’re about to suck the soul out of his body as your hot, warm mouth envelops him wholly.

“Fuck baby girl, your mouth is so perfect, I can’t wait for your pussy.”

“I’m right here, yours for the taking,” you smirk up at him, reeling from the fact he hadn’t touched you yet.

He once again surprised you as his strong arms lifted you with ease to toss you onto the bed. He spreads your legs without a second thought and dives into your needy cunt.

“You’ve been hiding this from me?” His eyes roll back as he tastes you. You mewl as his mouth takes over all of your senses.

“I know, baby, you need me to fuck you, don't you?”

“Yes”

“Needy little thing, just need a man to take care of you?”

You nod your head as your fingers lace themselves through his chocolate waves.

“I promise I'm going to take care of you and make you feel good.” And he is making you feel so good.

His face between your legs feels like you've ascended into euphoria.

“Oh god!” You clench down as your orgasm washes through you.

“That’s a good girl.” He laps at your juices before he fumbles for the condoms he thankfully just bought. He quickly rips open the box as you come down from your high. Condoms are scattered across the bed, and Eddie hears you giggle at his eagerness, and it only makes him want you more.

Eddie has the condom on in seconds and is gliding himself through your wet folds before he pushes himself inside.

“Oh, Eddie!” You scream when he bottoms out.

Eddie lets himself close his eyes as his tounge traced your nipple. He hummed into your skin only sending more waves of pleasure through your body. His large hands squeezed your other breast as he sucked and flicked your nipple with this mouth. Teeth teases as his fingers played, nothing would stop him from having your perfect tits in his mouth and his cock buried deep inside you.

His hips are rocking into you so good, he’s pounding into you, you can’t think. You’re so fucking happy you chose to come home with him, never have you had sex this good. How did his wife give this up? You don’t know,; but you’re sure glad because you will get to experience him now.

“Eddie, please!” He loved hearing his name fall from your lips. He wasn’t even sure you remembered it; he’s having trouble remembering yours if he’s being honest, but he didn’t care. Your pussy was magic.

“Fuck baby girl, this pussy is so tight, so good” You feel his hand gently wrap around your throat, holding you in place as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust. His cock disappears between your plush thighs; he can’t get enough as your pussy is getting tighter and tighter. He can feel your orgasm creeping up on you. He needs you to cum before him; he is damned if he comes first.

“Come on baby girl, cum on my cock…. That’s it; you’re taking me so well. I knew your pussy would be so fucking good.” The praises falling from his lips have you clenching down on his cock, so hard Eddie thinks he sees stars.

Eddie can finally let go. His cum fills the condom as he continues to fuck into you until he’s satisfied.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, you get up to leave, Eddie feels sad when you start getting dressed, but you insist he gives you his phone band. Maybe you can do it again sometime.

When he saw the text from the unsaved number with your name attached, his stomach did a little summersault, and he didn’t think he would ever forget your name again.

It’s been weeks, and your and Eddie’s schedules have yet to coordinate. He had his kids on the weekends, and you’re always busy. You never give a reason; you’re just busy.

So when Eddie entered the restaurant to get his pick-up order, he was a little surprised when he saw you sitting at the booth with a guy. A guy who was about your age, with his arm wrapped around you.

Who even sits on the same side of the booth anyway?

He gave the host a fake smile as his skin started to crawl as he continued to watch the blonde hair blue eyed Chad-looking fucker lean in and whisper something in your ear that made you laugh.

So this is why you’re “busy.”

“Your food will be out in a minute, sir.” The hostess smiled and walked away.

This gave Eddie the opportunity to walk over.

“Fancy seeing you here, Sugar.” Eddie smiled, but you could tell by the look in his eyes it was not a happy one.

You almost choked on your drink as his deep baritone voice filled your ears.

“Eddie, um, hi.” You try and keep your cool.

No, you weren’t avoiding him. This date had been planned for weeks, and you didn’t have the heart to cancel.

“Hey man,” the douche nods to Eddie, and he can’t help but roll his eyes. How on earth did his girl go for this chump?

Eddie completely ignored him.

“Who’s this baby?” Your date turns to you. “Your dad or something?”

You almost choked again, and Eddie sneered as the smug look graced your date's face.

“Can you give us a minute?” You turn to him.

“I don’t think— "

"Listen to the lady." Eddie glared, and he looked so hot while doing it.

"I'll give you ten minutes."

"I’m sure that's the longest you'd ever need," Eddie mumbled under his breath, and you giggled.

Eddie stuck out his hand, and you take it, and he leads you around the corner to the alcove by the bathrooms.

“So….” You start awkwardly.

“I see why you’re always busy. If you have a boyfriend just tell me I’ll stop waisting my time.” He scoffs.

“Hes not my boyfriend.”

“But that’s your type, huh? Thought you wanted a more mature man? Someone rough around the edges, someone who knows how to please you” He raises his brows.

“I-I mean…”

“What is it, baby girl? He fuck you as good as I did?” He tucks a price of loose hair behind your ear. “I don’t think so.”

“How dare you!”

“You need to be reminded?”

The way your pussy clenched as his tone was a betrayal of your own. You missed his touch, but he was being such as asshole you didn’t want to give in.

“Fuck you”

“Gladly,” he leaned in and kissed you deeply.

You let a moan slip, and you feel Eddie smirk against you.

Eddie dragged you into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“Eddie,” you moan, completely forgetting you were on a date with another man.

Eddie can’t get enough of you; he’s been thinking about you every moment of every day since that first night you hooked up, and hearing your name slip past your lips only makes this moment all that much sweeter for him.

“Need this tight pussy to remember who she belongs to.” He flips you towards the sink so you face the mirror. You watch intently as his hands wrap around your waist to unbutton your pants and pull them down. “Need to remind you who made you cum so hard you were begging for more.”

You couldn’t form words, only needy mewls left your throat as you wiggle your bare ass at him before his fingers run up your already wet slit. It didn’t take much for you to get ready when Eddie was around.

“So wet f’me already”

“Only you.”

“Yea, only me? Not that Ken doll out there?”

“No, Eddie, you! Only you!”

“That’s right, baby girl. You’re mine, pretty.”

You hear the jingle of his belt, and soon after, his hard tip brushes through your folds.

“Eyes on me,” he guides your chin to keep looking at him through the mirror as he plunges inside of you.

Your mouth falls slack as he fucks into you; his hand moves lower, holding your throat in place as each brush of his cock feels so deep inside of you.

His grip on your hip is tight, his hand slinks down from your throat to your breasts, and he squeezes it over and over again.

“Can’t get enough of you, pussy is like a fuckin drug.”

“So big,” you slur. His cock brushing that sport so deep inside you your body is shaking with pleasure.

Your orgasm hits you quickly, and Eddie is coming shortly after.

You feel a light smack on your bare ass before he helps pull your panties back up.

“Holy shit” you try and catch your breath.

“Now, you’ll only be thinking of me dripping down your leg while you finish this date.” He gives your ass another squeeze before slipping out the door without another word.

You take a minute to catch your breath and exit the bathroom to see Eddie, with a takeout bag, heading out the door. You say a quick goodbye to your date, making up some lame excuse about not feeling well and chase after Eddie while he still leaks out of you.

A one-night stand turned into running into him while on another date, and he fucked you in the bathroom so good you ditched your date, and now you’ve been hooking up ever since.

You didn’t speak to one another about what you were, but after that day in the bathroom, you knew you didn’t want to be with anyone else. It was understood after he ran into you on a date - you would be committed to one another only.

You liked Eddie, and yes, he was older by about seventeen years, but he treated you well. He always made sure to take care of you and look after your needs, and when you were both finished, he always wanted to talk and cuddle.

You knew you wanted more with him, to go out with him, to be with him, but you were too scared to overstep. He had just gotten out of a poor relationship a month and a half ago, but your feelings for him started blooming, and you couldn't stop.

You’re falling quick and hard for Eddie and that’s scary. It’s so new and what if a baby is added to the equation? That could end things in an instant. Dread was the only thing to fill your mind as your mind spiralled.

Your phone startles you out of your thoughts, and you answer it right away, don't even see who it is on the other end.

"Hey, baby girl. You getting ready to go out?"

Tonight, you were to go out with your friends to dance. You loved having a drink and some good music, but as you were getting ready, a wave of nausea hit, and you knew that wasn't a good sign.

You were late. It's been a little over two weeks late, but you're scared to take a test. No way you wanted this to be real. You had been so careful.

"No, um, actually. I'm not feeling well." You try and swallow the lump in your throat. You don't need to worry about the unknown.

"Oh baby, do you need some soup? I can pick you up some and bring it over."

“No, no I just — Oh god, the bathroom!”

It hit you; you didn’t use a condom that time.

"You wanna hang up to do that or…?"

"No, Eddie, no I need you to get something for me."

"Whatever you need."

You pace back and forth as the longest 3 minutes of your life pass by.

Eddie couldn't believe you were asking him to get you a pregnancy test at nine-thirty on a Saturday night, but here he was, anxiously waiting.

Eddie loved being a dad, and he would be thrilled to have another baby, especially with you. Sure, the relationship was newer, but he knew in his soul how good of a person you were and how good of a mom you would be.

Fantasies of you and your swollen belly played in repeated in his head until he heard you gasp. He sees your face, and you're in shock, unable to move beside your shaking hand. Holding the test, he sees the blue plus symbol clear as day.

"Your boy has still got it!" He grabs the test from your hand and makes a fist pump in the air.

"Eddie!"

"What?"

"Aren't you scared?" Tears formed in your eyes. Would you be ready? Would you be a good mother? Would he want to leave, and you would be stuck being a single mom?

"No, because I know you'll be an awesome mom. I can't imagine a more perfect woman to have my baby." He leaned in to kiss you, and a tear fell down your cheek.

My baby. Something g you and Eddie made together.

"I'm going to be a mom." Eddie's words start to make you feel better, and you start to smile.

"You're going to be the sexiest mom." He wiggles his brows suggestively.

"Eddie!"

"And the kindest, most caring, thoughtful mom to ever exist. This baby will be so loved."

"So loved," You repeat.

Tagging some mooties (feel free to ignore): @paybacksawitch @xxbimbobunnyxx @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @munson-blurbs @littlexdeaths @onegirlmanytales

[flemingsfreckles]

Dress

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: inspired off the song Dress by Taylor Swift (normally not a big TS fan but this song gives off such gay/secret relationship vibes)

Warnings: suggestive, language

WC: 2.3k

A/N: pretend Jessie is still at Chelsea for the sake of this 🙃 also ignore Niamh in the photo, there’s like only 2 photos of Jessie in that button up outfit and I’ve used the other one already, despite the fact that yall want a Niamh x Jessie x Reader fic, this is not it.

Your eyes scanned the room filled with your teammates in search of the brown hair and brown eyed Canadian you were trying to find and yet trying to avoid coming into direct contact with.

In your second scan of the crowded room, you find her across the way, speaking with some of your other teammates.

You watch as Jessie’s eyes catch yours, before they widen and trail downward, taking in your whole body. As her eyes admire you, you watch her suck in a large breath, her eyebrows raised, cheeks puffed out as she slowly releases the air in her lungs. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. She gives you a small and slow nod when her eyes meet yours again.

You had succeeded.

You knew she wanted you to rush over to her, to say hello, give her a hug, whisper something for just the two of you in her ear, so you did the opposite.

You found Millie first, giving her a hug, she gushed over your dress. You chatted with her for a bit, glancing around the room occasionally, noticing Jessie’s eyes always meeting yours. She was watching you intensely, just what you had hoped.

You were quickly interrupted by Guro, Erin, and Sam all making their way over, drinks in their hands. The three greeted you, all making comments that they were shocked by your dress, in a good way of course. It felt weird having your teammates gush over your appearance, you had been dressed up around them before but usually opted for a blazer, pantsuit, never before a dress.

Wanting to tease Jessie more, you continue making your rounds, avoiding the area of the room where she and Niamh stood. You took the occasional glance in their direction, Jessie’s eyes always looking over Niamh's shoulder and at you. You felt like prey being hunted by her intense gaze. You talk with Aggie and Maika, a couple of the assistant coaches, dragging out the conversations, keeping Jessie waiting for you. When you had finally said hello to everyone that had already arrived except Jessie, you decided it was time to put the poor girl out of her misery.

You finally make your way over to Jessie. She’s staring you down as you approach her, her eyes locked on your body.

“Hi Jess.” You lean in giving her a hug and she gives you a peck on the cheek. It’s casual, quick, and boring to the outside world. But the way you slid your hand down to the small of her back and the way she let her lips linger on your cheek for an extra second, was not casual.

When you pulled away from her you kept your hand on the small of her back, turning so the two of you were shoulder to shoulder as if you were standing before a game for the anthems.

“You look,” she lets out a sigh that tells you everything you needed to know, “you look fantastic.”

“Thanks. Actually funny enough, I was told if I always dressed like this, maybe I wouldn’t be single.” You say it as a joke, Jessie doesn’t take it as one.

“You’re not single.” The Canadian leans in to grumble into your ear, clearly not a fan of the thought of you being available.

“Oh I’m not? I don’t recall anyone asking me to be in a relationship.” You pat her back softly, letting your fingers just barely dance into the waistband of her pants.

You and Jessie had been seeing each other as more than friends for a couple weeks now. It had started as innocent coffee trips, those trips quickly became more formal coffee dates, those dates turned into spending the afternoons and evenings at each others places, which led to just three weeks ago, you straddling the Canadian on her couch, your fingers in her hair and her hands around your waist as the two of you kissed for the first time. You hadn’t yet put any form of label on it, but you continued seeing each other, the romantic and sexual tension very much still alive between the two of you.

“I don’t like how they’re staring.” You can feel the jealousy radiating off of Jessie. She’s looking out across the room to all your teammates. It was weird, the new attention you were getting. You knew none of your teammates meant it in a way of making you uncomfortable and you knew that, it was just different seeing them surprised by your outfit.

“No need to be jealous, Fleming.” You say to her before leaning in close again to whisper in her ear as she takes a sip of the beer in her hand. “Just remember I bought this dress thinking about only you taking it off my body tonight.” That gets Jessie’s attention, her eyes widen and she’s sent into a coughing fit choking on her drink. Your comment is said half as an invitation, half as a statement. The two of you had made out plenty in your three week escapades, but not getting any further than you did only four days ago in her apartment after training.

You had been making out against the hallway of her apartment when Jessie had picked you up, your legs around her waist as she carried you into her bedroom. She had quickly discarded your training top, kissing down your neck before removing your bra and starting to harshly suck dark red marks across your chest. You had removed her shirt and just as she leaned down to trail kisses down your stomach her phone rang. A FaceTime call from her sister. She had apologized profusely as she threw your shirt back to you as she donned her own. You weren’t upset, you had been the one who insisted she answer the call. However the interaction left you incredibly sexually frustrated for the next few days, giving you the brilliant idea of the dress.

You were already in need of an outfit for the banquet, leading you to be wandering around the store. You had texted Fran, Niamh, and a few other teammates to see what they were wearing. You walked in circles looking at jackets and pants, shirts, nothing seemed to pull your interest until you found yourself in the gown and dress section. The black dress you had bought was on display, it caught your eye. It was a tight, yet tasteful black dress, more than appropriate for the occasion and yet perfect to make Jessie have the opposite of appropriate thought.

Sneaking around with her had been fun, the quick glances in the locker room, the extra second you two spent looking at each other after Jessie had ended up with her body pressed on top of you after you tackled her a little too hard at training, the way she’d give your hand an extra squeeze when you’d high-five after games, all the subtle moments of your relationship happening right in front of everyone’s eyes, without anyone knowing at all.

Those red marks she had made on your skin the other day were now golden bruises across your chest, an arousing reminder of your evening when you got dressed this afternoon. You were thankful they weren’t visible in the lower cut neckline of the dress. You took one last look in the mirror before you left to come to the banquet. You couldn’t help but smirk at yourself, you wanted to drive Jessie crazy, make her stare, make her blush, make her squirm in her seat while she tried to keep your teammates oblivious to your situationship, this dress was going to be perfect for that job.

“We should go mingle.” You say, dropping your hand from Jessie’s back, a few more members of the staff had arrived, you wanted to say hello. Jessie just lets out a dissatisfied grumble. “I’ll see you in a bit.” You say to her as you walk away. You only get a few steps before you turn back, delighted by the sight. Jessie’s eyes had been fixated on your ass, she only looked away when she noticed you turned around catching her behavior. Her face flushed slightly and you gave her a quick wink before turning and moving to the other side of the room.

The seating at dinner was beyond your control but whoever was in charge of it did you a huge favor, sitting you right next to Jessie. You wander around looking for your name, finding it on the little place card, you take a lap looking at the rest of the names on the table before you come back reading the final name on the table for the seat to your left. You almost let out a laugh as you read Jessie’s name. This would be fun.

Dinner starts innocently enough. Plenty of conversation to keep both you and Jessie thinking about other things than the tension between you. It’s only once everyone starts eating, conversation slows and it becomes increasingly obvious how close you’re sat to her.

As you finish up your meal and speeches begin to start, you feel a weight on your lap. Jessie’s hand, under the tablecloth, resting on your upper thigh. She gently squeezes and you’re thankful that no one is seated directly behind your table, meaning no one sees how you move your leg outward to encourage her touch.

You let her touch your thigh, rubbing your skin through the dress for a couple minutes before you promptly stand up, excusing yourself to the table, saying you had to use the restroom and you’d be back. As you walk away you can’t help but turn back giving a look at Jessie, whose eyes were again watching you walk away.

You head to the bathroom, half because you had to use it and half because you wanted to see if Jessie would follow. You get your answer when you open the door from the stall to go wash your hands and Jessie is standing, arms crossed leaning against the wall. You take a moment to take in her stature, you had been so focused on her reaction to your own dress that you didn’t fully appreciate her appearance yet. She looked good, her dark dress pants tight in all the right places, her blazer hugging her shoulders, even if she didn’t intend it, her outfit was having an effect on you.

“You’re a tease.” She says, watching you again like prey as you walk over to the sink.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” You say, putting soap on your hands. “I’m not doing anything.” You give her an innocent smile through the mirror.

Sick of your behavior Jessie comes up behind you, her front flush to your back, pushing you slightly into the countertop. Her hands find your sides, just under your armpits. “You did this.” She lets her hands run down your sides and over the curve of your hips. “You chose this dress, you chose to tell me that you want me to take it off, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“And it’s working?” You give her a cocky smile as you move away from her grasp to dry your hands and turn the water off.

“God, yes it’s working, you already get me worked up in regular clothes, but then this dress…” her voice trails off as she again takes the time to look over your body, head to toe, appreciating your dress. She bites her lip momentarily, walking up to you again. She leans into you, putting her lips quickly to your neck, giving you a soft kiss, then another just below your ear before she brings her lips to your ear and whispers. “You're driving me insane. I wish I had just ignored the call and fucked you instead the other day.”

You hum in agreement, you also wished she had just fucked you then and there. “But this is more fun.” You give her a raise of your eyebrows.

“You’re coming home with me.” She says as she leans back from you, still only inches from each other.

“I will, if you can be good the rest of the night.” You were going to give in and let her take you home no matter what, but you wanted to keep your evening of teasing and fun going for a little bit longer.

“I’ve been good!” She protests.

“I dunno Jessie, hand under the table isn’t what I would consider behaving.” You let your own hand drag on her thigh, mimicking her touch from earlier. You can feel her push her thigh into your hand desperately.

“I could’ve done worse.”

Returning her teasing from earlier you lean into her now, placing an open mouth kiss to her neck before whispering into her ear. “Behave for the rest of the night and I’ll let you do your worst to me later.”

You watch Jessie’s mouth fall open slightly as you pull back. Her stare intensifies on you, pupils wide. Knowing she was lost in her own dirty thoughts you take the opportunity to step away from her and open the bathroom door.

You turn back to look at Jessie, her mouth still agape, eyes locked on you. “Come on, only a few more hours of this banquet and then you can make those dirty thoughts you just had about me a reality.”

[dollypopup]

If Debling isn't good enough for Fran, as the Queen herself says, because he's boring and has nothing to really offer save a title

If what Debling can offer isn't good enough for Edwina, IE: a life of security without love like what Anthony was willing to provide for her

If what Debling represents, an absent figure in a household who does not invite his wife into his plans and interests isn't a good outcome for Portia, who preaches about marrying for security and then ends up scrounging for it, regardless

Why does fandom insist that Penelope has to settle for him? That he'd be a 'better option'? Why is it that she's the one who should have hopped on the first guy with a vague interest in her and tepid emotions when Colin is right there and actually desires her? Why are other women in the series allowed to prioritize love and dream of happy endings regardless of the consequences and outcomes but Penelope should be content with being the warden of a big house as her husband fucks off without her? Why is it that all these characters deserve romances and caring but Penelope should have accepted a title and an estate and being alone?

As if Colin can't provide her security. As if Colin doesn't show interest in her and listen to her. As if he's not from a good family and will also elevate her standing in society through their marriage. As if Penelope has ever been the kind of woman to go title hunting. As if Penelope finds any kind of solace in being alone. As if Penelope isn't actively looking for connection.

Peeps who think Debling is in any way a good fit for her hate Colin, but y'all clearly hate Penelope more, because what are you even talking about? Debling opened the door after getting permission to ask to marry her and didn't even smile. Colin throws open the carriage door and does the stride of pride to show her off to his family with a grin on his face. Debling dumps her with the first SNIFF he gets of her having interest in someone else. Colin runs off after her to beg her to give him a chance and not to marry the other dude. Debling wants to leave her alone in a big house as he goes on adventures. Colin cannot go traveling without writing to her and sharing the world with her.

Penelope deserves the best just as the other women of this series do. Penelope deserves to be loved in every way- with acts of service (the balloon scene, setting up a ballroom in Bridgerton House so they can flirt), with quality time (all their lessons), with touch (carriage, dances, kisses aplenty), with words of affirmation (you are Penelope Featherington, never forget that, you are clever and warm, you do not need lessons), with gifts (a ring on her finger, a house she can make a home with him together). With big gestures like running off after her and small moments like looking for her in every room.

I'm sick of Debling. I'm sick of people who don't recognize that he had 0 emotion toward Penelope save for 'she'll do'. That he liked that she was honest and alone and didn't share his interests. That she would be content with the scraps he was willing to offer her. Not passion. Not sharing. Not cultivating a life together. Not love. Not anything except money and solitude. In what world would that ever have been enough? In what world is that best for her? I'm sick of people refusing to see that Penelope wants to be and should be and will be loved all because there's bitterness in their hearts. If you throw a dreamer into a pragmatic box, they wither. As Colin would have with Marina. As Penelope would have with Debling.

Penelope deserves the best. Penelope deserves Colin. Because Colin is the best for her, to her, with her.

If you can't see that, sucks to suck.

[lifeandlies-of-regulusblack]

The Portrait of Regulus Black

How his features change over time and what it meant for the people around him. / How Molly and Sirius finally come to an understanding in front of a dead boy's portrait.

Regulus clearly grows up to be beautiful. But as a kid, all the sharp features the cousins shared didn't sit quite right on his small baby face. So Regulus, until puberty, looked weird. He wasn't ugly but he looked like a cut and paste collage of aristocratic features that made him come off as an uncanny valley child. People look at him and register the features that should all but make a most precious kid. But it never feels quite right. People, instead, are unnerved by the hallmarks of beauty waiting to settle down on a too small face.

Narcissa was exactly the same as a child.

Regulus starts getting looks from girls and the occasional boy at 13. By 15 people know who Regulus Black is, he's asked out often and sent letters in distressing frequency (not that his friends don't have a good time reading them all and eating the treats that come with it). James looks at him like he's trying to figure him out, Regulus doesn't care. James asks him if he's going to this week's meeting for Slug Club and if he'll be staying for tea after — Regulus walks right past him.

James starts looking at the people coming up to Regulus like they offend him and it's Barty who calls him out on it.

"Oi, Potter! Are you jealous Reg's getting all the attention or do you want to line up yourself?"

Regulus merely rolls his eyes at his friend, always looking for a reason to piss off his brother's mates. Meanwhile, a rabbid James is held back by Frank.

Eventually, James tells him that Regulus had always been pretty to him. That he was 12 and Regulus was 11. And all James could think about, was how not to embarrass himself so he could impress Sirius' doll of a little brother. Now, everyone wants a piece of Regulus, James sourly points out. He was there first.

He gets a kiss on the cheek for the sulking and James chases after the lips that dare to call his woes, cute.

By 17, the Dark Lord takes notice. By 17, Rabastan starts approaching him... To take him under his wing, he says. By 17 Greyback starts staring. Tells Regulus that boys like him should be careful not to end up alone.

By 18, a portrait of Regulus Black sits on the wall of 12 Grimmauld Place — immortalizing his beauty and youth.

At 35 Sirius looks up at his brother, his portrait asking him, hopefully, if he'll finally be staying home for the holidays, perpetually stuck some time in the past where he and Sirius still came home together but went to Hogwarts separately. He looks at his brother, or what remains of his existence, and says yes, he'll be spending the rest of it with Regulus.

The Order, ever curious of the dark, once mighty, Black family (though ashamed to ever outwardly admit it) will occasionally look up at the portrait of the dead heir — final whereabouts, unknown... Body, still yet to be found. His death, a debate of his detraction or failure. Ever unresponsive, wary, and snobbish except when Sirius is the one asking him about his day, only then will the painting answer.

The painting haunts the people who come over with business to discuss among other members. The young boy's features speak of unfinished growth creeping towards adulthood. Maturity never achieved.

Molly, in a rare moment of peace with Sirius, sits with the once heir as she finds him looking up at the portrait, late at night, lost to memories in his childhood home.

"Do you miss him?"

"People expect me to say no, you know? Youngest Death Eater, and people say he was quite eager to join up, my fool of a brother."

"That's not what I asked. I miss my brothers and nothing could ever take that away from me. They were my brothers. Sometimes, my grief is all I have left of them."

Sirius sighs, "And he was my brother. I wish I could've seen him grow up. I'm 35 and he's 18. It haunts me, Molly."

There's nothing much else to say after that.

"He's beautiful," she says, looking up at the painting, at the imitation of a young man looking at them with apprehension, no — looking at her with apprehension and looking at his brother with mild confusion. As if to say, 'who is she Sirius and why is she here?'

"I remember him, quite a few years below me. Walking like a prince through the halls of Hogwarts. Haunting its walls, with James behind his heels."

"They thought no one ever noticed," Sirius says.

"You did."

"I'm his brother and James was my best friend. He never talked about Regulus, he kept him like a secret." Sirius recounts with an odd tone to his voice.

"I watched. Waiting for James to act in shame, I was waiting for a reason to start a fight. Regulus and I weren't talking but I wasn't ashamed to be his brother. If James was ashamed, I would've stepped in between them and put an end to it."

Molly waits, realizing she's seeing Sirius anew for the first time. She and Sirius never got along well and a good part of it was because she thought he was rash. Impulsive and blindly inconsiderate of others. She never liked that he kept looking for James in Harry. Wanting to relive the past. But sitting with him like this, hearing how much he knows when people don't expect much of him at all, the way he speaks of his brother — it's sobering.

"I figured out the reason for James' silence. Why there was never a hint or mention of whatever fleeting relationship he had with my brother. It wasn't shame, it was selfishness. Greed. He loved Lily, fully! No one could ever say he didn't. Knowing what I knew didn't change that. But Regulus was his to keep. And he kept him all to himself.

I do the same thing with Harry. I talk about James. I share James with him because James was never mine the way Regulus was mine. All my best memories with Prongs I tell him and I watch his eyes light up — hungry for more of the father he never met. Lily too, of course. But Regulus? I—" Sirius pauses. He tries to say more but can't. Regulus was his brother.

"It's so hard."

"Bill asks me about them too. Fabian and Gideon. I share with my kids my grief because it's easy to admit loss. But how we spent our childhood together? How brave their uncles were... Charlie asks why I wouldn't hang pictures of them up on the family mantle, why I keep their smiles in a box."

But they were her brothers.

The silence they share is one of understanding. What a price they had to pay to finally see each other eye to eye.

"Regulus would've been devastating, wouldn't he? Growing up into a man."

Sirius laughs. A bark more than laughter, really.

"I'd like to think he wouldn't have been. At least not by that much. I'm the good looking one, remember?"

"I don't think you'll stand for my answer. But I'm sure people weren't too hung up on you leaving Hogwarts. I think the students were just fine."

[nottobehornyonthemain]

The pool scene is awesome. But it’s also extremely painful.

Because on the one hand you have Gideon, who is very repressed, something we’re probably not expecting as an audience, because she is a brash, agressive, openly queer woman. There’s a weird expectation that girls are somehow more in touch with their feelings (this is dumb). But also we live in a heteronormative society, and it’s unusual for us to see out queer folks who haven’t had to actually think critically about their emotions and come to terms with with them. Which, Gideon has not done.

So she’s in this position where she does not think that Harrowhark is capable of feeling affection or love, and that the strongest emotion Harrow is capable of is hate. Gideon knows 100% for a fact that Harrow hates her, so that means she is important to Harrow.

Except that Harrow *is* apparently capable of love and affection. Which means that when she says that she doesn’t think about Gideon that often because there are things she cares about more, she’s not just saying it to get under Gideon’s skin. Which means that Gideon isn’t as important to Harrow as she thought she was. And this upsets her deeply for reasons she can’t fully explain or understand.

On the other hand you have Harrow, she just told her greatest secret, and received forgiveness, understanding, and genuine human comfort in return. So she looks at the world as though it is filled with egg-eating snakes and she is protecting an egg. So she makes Gideon promise to go home and do the thing her family has been tasked with for generations. We, as the audience, have only gotten like five scenes with Harrowhark fully aware of everything post pool-scene, and in two of them she is destroying herself so that Gideon can have even the smallest chance of life.

Because Gideon just had her heart broken into a thousand tiny shards and can’t even express why, meanwhile Harrow thinks they’re married now.

If they had just a few more hours to talk to each other afterwards I fully believe that they would have worked a lot of this shit out. I guess that’s the tragedy. Even in their moment of seeing each other clearly for the first time, they still don’t understand each other.

[oldshrewsburyian]

hello! so i just found out about you (better believe i'm going to be reading those cannon law recs) and i need you to answer/reply this for me in a way that doesn't sound absolutely stupid because all i came up with was "awoiaf is fetishised to hell and back with way too much institutionalised pedophilia even for medieval times"

in respect to me posting that "" i think GRRM write way too much child bride/rape/miscarriages etc than i thought was reality""

for context, this is regarding aemma arryn, a character who in book cannon has miscarriages since she's like 12/13.

feel free to disregard, thanks!

Hello! I feel like the Hostiensis of the ASOIAF universe and I'm into it, honestly. FWIW, I don't read ASOIAF/GRRM as fetishizing child marriage, but I do think that we are supposed to read the marriages of adolescent girls/young women as part of "the dark and middle ages" (tm) as imagined.

I also think (this is part of the answer, I promise) that it is a real problem that the world of ASOIAF does not have (as far as I can tell?) a legal age of majority. This is another reason we need Fantasy Canon Law, George!! I was particularly struck by this in the case of Sansa. Her adoring parents are perfectly ready to have her betrothed to a boy of approximately her own age before she hits puberty. Sansa is also not upset about contemplating marriage at this age, as a noblewoman. The women at court treat menarche as socially/legally/medically equivalent to adulthood for her. When she does eventually get married, getting married to Tyrion, who is 10+ years older than she is and also kind, intelligent, and sexually patient/experienced is clearly a much better option than the 14-year-old psychopath. This is super-legal, also. But also also, once she's out of the dress that is clearly designed for a grown woman (which she technically is! right? right George??) her husband is frankly alarmed by her youth. Make up your mind, George! Make up your mind! Is Sansa legible in court society as a woman or a girl? Clearly it is the former at least most of the time? This really, really matters, I think, to assessing the experiences and attitudes of the characters, and yet we're never given a coherent in-world answer about it (at least, not as of the first three books. Yes, I am actively mad about this.)

ANYWAY. The average age for marriage in medieval Europe was slightly higher than that in the southern United States, where I currently teach. Yes, I looked this up for the sake of comparison to make my students' jaws drop. So there's no such thing as "institutionalized pedophilia." For approximately 1% of the population, it was often desirable to have the scions of royalty/upper nobility legally married off before consummation was possible/desirable. So, for this tiny percentage of the population, again, it was not uncommon to have marriages that were unconsummated, or consummated one (1) time for legal reasons (another reason we need Fantasy Canon Law™ if this is going to matter in ASOIAF), between teenagers. One example of this would be the arranged but very loving marriage between Elizabeth of Hungary and Ludwig of Thüringen; she had lived in his parents' household from early childhood onwards, as part of their betrothal. The legal age for consent to marriage was 12 for girls and 14 for boys, and yes, that's super young by our standards, but it's also something that was only very gradually raised (the legal age for girls was raised to 16 in late Victorian England, for example,) and again, had very little effect on most people's lives in the European Middle Ages, except insofar as any marriage made without the full and free consent of both parties was invalid under canon law (the real kind.)

As the exceptional case of Margaret Beaufort makes clear, this was rare in part because of the recognized medical risks of early pregnancy and childbirth. Picking one (1) infamous case of traumatic adolescent pregnancy as a prototype ≠ being "incredibly well-read", wtf. (I know that's not your view.) I know I've done this before, but I'm going to cite a saint's life, since such stories were used to communicate moral values and reflected (to a degree, albeit shaped by narrative tropes) social realities. So. This one is from Italy, shortly after the moment when Real Canon Law codified that underage marriage was illegal. The person in need of help in this story (which you can find here) is an adolescent girl who had been married and whose marriage had been consummated. The author uses circumlocutions for this, but he is clearly both shocked and disapproving of what, implicitly, amounted to marital rape or at least irresponsible conduct. But as a result of this -- and possibly a miscarriage -- the young woman in the story was suffering medical complications, and came to a doctor who, because of the tropes of the story, referred her to a saint who was also a young woman. I love that: the implication that St. Trophimema, who had died as a victim of male violence, was posthumously helping other girls in similar situations, with the help of the nuns who managed her shrine. Anyway! the girl was healed, and may also have joined the community of women (that's unclear too; the point of the story is the healing.) This got long again, but it's another Real Medieval Example of how both legal and social realities were complicated, and how some men being abusive assholes (technical historian term) did not mean that their behavior was normative or normalized.

[shanieveh]

REVERSE 05↺: reversing

wriothesley x fem!reader smau

now playing: ariana grande — we can't be friends (wait for your love)

"She has arrived," you heard Neuvillette's declaration upon meeting gazes. The mansion seems awfully familiar and you did not like that.

Same faces, different feeling.

To be a stranger in a home you felt like you would always be in, it was not a good thought at all, whatever us happening currently you want it gone.

But you can't erase the past, not when they are reversing the present.

Then arriving at the door you see his face, one of content, but not for you–was it ever for you?

"Welcome," he takes your hands and guides you inside. His home felt like a prison more than anything as you spot his friend already tasting water.

You remember those quirky habits and you can't help but shake hands and just nod along.

Then you saw the familiar scents of tea, as a table was set with him pouring the tea.

..... wait??

"Precious dew?" You looked at him enlightened at the taste.

"Your favorite."

That was enough for you to rethink your decisions of any regret in this activity. You were content. The extra sugar, the same biscuits, and Neuvillette.

You knew exactly what he was doing, this ode to the past.

It felt strange, for the first time after everything happened, he felt strange.

This feeling... that you were not standing by someone who had a great reputation, a massive mansion, or some varsity athlete... you were standing beside Wrio. Simply Wrio.

You were standing beyond the man you grew to love. And with cheers in the air, you remembered so many things.

It felt... sweet.... like the precious dew, like this precious feeling in your heart.

And now you wait, you wait for the day he will learn to love you again.

Except he always has.

——————————[ 04 —↺— 06 ]———————————

the whole campus knows about your 3 year crush on the student body president and basketball captain wriothesley. you were fine with his constant ignoring and rejections until something happened, until you stopped, and a reverse took place... now he won't leave you alone.

TAGLIST I (open): @vash-yuu @nayukiyukihira @aethion @whodissbitj @astolary @ayayaaayyiire @randomidk-123 @superdark-soul @sleepy-waffle @kittywagun @ceaether @ichorstainedskin @numwoon44 @eutopiastar @reni502 @fictionalfantasy17 @lucienbarkbark @kyon-cherri @huanator @jqnehr @yourlittlemissworld @zworllyx @unknownlololol @sara-midnight @jaguarthecat @we-wo-we-wo @duhsies @interstellar-equilibrium @ariparri @lolmeowing @aruatsu @k-cris @quacking-simp @vlamouren @semi-orangeapple @tamikahoshiko @imnotgoodwithnamessoidk @portgas459ace @r4yyyyy @vxnuslogy @kazuhasmaid @explosive-wuisa @falors @rirk-ke @shotovhs @aixaingela @ruhaxol @yelleloww @sc1twi @ash4ree

author's note: the typo at scara i got too lazy to fix the "almosy" its almost you guys can clearly tell its fine. next it might be obvi but wriothesley wants you guys as FRIENDS, and i mean that for the reason idk i dont spoil things

[hadesisqueer]

When Darius said that Brooklynn tried to be nice about it and but it was clear that she did not feel the same way he did, I don't think we have to take it as the full truth as some people are doing.

What I mean is that we got flashbacks of Brooklynn with quite literally everyone from the Camp Fam except Darius (that's on purpose, they are clearly going to keep expanding on this sideplot next season). We didn't get to see any moments of Darius with Brooklynn, and most of all, everything we heard about them was from Darius' POV. Not from hers. Until we see what truly happened and we see Brooklynn's POV to the story, we won't know for sure if it's unrequited or not because it could be Darius' perception of it. And honestly, I do think it's going to be revealed that Brooklynn probably likes him back, but that there was a number of reasons why she would 'reject' him or appear so to Darius.

1) Protect him. She got into some really messy stuff after all and maybe she didn't want him getting involved.

2) He's her friend of years and also her ex-boyfriend's best friend/brother. That already makes it messy and confusing.

3) She had recently ended things with Kenji, in a way that had ended up hurting him. She might not have wanted to get into another relationship thinking that maybe she was gonna end up hurting Darius as well.

4) Took her by surprise.

5) Unknown reasons.

6) All of the above.

Like I just said, we can't take the unrequited thing as the truth until we actually see what happened and her version of things. She might actually not like him back, she might actually do like him back and he thinks she doesn't. Like I said, as of now we don't know. Personally I believe it's gonna be the second —and this comes from a person who up until now has always been mostly neutral when it comes to Dinostar. I didn't mind the idea of them becoming a couple and prefered it over Brookenji, but I also didn't care much about them because I didn't find anything actually interesting. This season made me actually go from "I don't mind them" to actually shipping it. They'd be cute and I kinda can see their potential now. I like angst and I can tell it's gonna be angsty when she returns lmao. The drama is gonna be insane.

[discotitsposts]

strawberry lipgloss part two- the date 🍓

sorry this took so long! since my birthday is soon, i’ll prob post this on my birthday, this is reader going on a date with spencer but he doesn’t know it’s her birthday because she didn’t tell him.

update posting this on my birthday whoo!!!

🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓-🍓

Spencer waits nervously at the restaurant for you, he’d chosen your favorite Italian place, it was close to your apartment and was familiar to you.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you with a restaurant you’d never been to and where you wouldn’t know the menu.

He checks his watch again, you’re not late yet, but time was cutting close and he’s starting to get worried.

Spencer’s mind races with maybes.

Maybe she didn’t actually want to and is going to cancel last minute. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe she-

He looks up and sees you speaking with the hostess, she leads you to the table and Spencer stands up in awe of the way you’ve dressed.

A beautiful purple dress with strawberries on it, the strawberry scent just as strong, your hair done beautifully and you’re even wearing a small tiara in your hair.

Your lips, Spencer notices, are slick with lipgloss, strawberry lipgloss.

“You look absolutely radiant.” Spencer manages to say finally after staring for a while. You lean in and hug him tight.

“I’m so glad to be here with you Spencer.” You say sweetly, and smile. Your smile. You smiled at him like no one else mattered in the world except you and him.

“I’m glad too.” He says without really thinking. You had that effect on him.

“I love the tiara.” He smiles at the sparkly object in your beautiful hair.

“Thank you, it was a birthday gift for myself.”

Spencer freezes. Birthday? How could he have forgotten? Spencer never forgot anything. Then he realized. You’d never told anyone on the team your birthday.

“I..uh I didn’t know you had a birthday coming up.” He says nervously.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t really tell anyone because I didn’t feel like doing much. It’s actually today.”

Spencer’s eyes widen. Today? Your birthday is today?!

“Oh I’m so sorry I..Happy Birthday! I just so happened to get you a present without knowing.” He smiles and reaches for the gift he’d gotten you.

“Oh Spencer that’s so sweet you didn’t have to get me anything, except, I kind of got you something too.” You laugh and reach for a box too.

“You got me something?” Spencer laughs in disbelief.

You exchange the gifts and you open yours. Spencer had gotten you a perfume. Not just any perfume, a perfume in a strawberry shaped bottle. You gasp at how adorable it is.

“It’s strawberry scented too.” Spencer adds blushing as red as the strawberry shaped bottle.

You sniff the perfume sample included with the box.

“Oh Spencer I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you!” You beam at him and gesture him to open his gift.

He carefully unravels the ribbon, in the small box is a bookmark, with a quote by Nikola Tesla.

It reads: ‘The scientists of today think deeply instead of clearly. One must be sane to think clearly, but one can think deeply and be quite insane.’

Spencer laughs heartily. The quote was deeply relatable and one of his favorites. Then he notices, there is a strawberry charm, an amethyst crystal charm, a book charm, and a microscope charm on the tassel of the bookmark.

“This is amazing. I love it. Where did you get such a gem?” Spencer smiles.

“I know you probably don’t need bookmarks because you probably just remember the page number but bookmarks are so cute and fun I had to. Also I didn’t buy it, I made it.” You blush a little. Proud he’d liked the gift you’d spent so much time on.

You both set your gifts down and stare at each other.

“You made this?” Spencer asks, clearly impressed. You nod and he stands up and hugs you tightly.

“Thank you.” He whispers in your ear.

“Thank you.” You whisper back. “I really love it, i’ve never owned strawberry perfume before.”

“Happy Birthday.” He says softly and then kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you!”

A waiter comes over and takes your orders. You order a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs to share.

“The portions are huge! It’s a big plate of spaghetti and they add this sauce that is absolutely divine and the meatballs are perfect.” You gush over the spaghetti this restaurant serves while Spencer smiles in adoration.

He decides to be bold and reaches across the table nervously and takes your hand in his. You smile at the gesture and your plate comes out.

Spencer’s eyes go wide at the amount of spaghetti. You give him a look that says ‘I told you so’ and a smirk.

You guys eat and talk and laugh for the longest time. Spencer found you so easy to talk to and didn’t feel annoying for rambling in the slightest. When he rambled, you sat there and listened intently.

When you get to the end of the spaghetti you realize this is just like ‘Lady and the Tramp’ because Spencer rolls the last meatball onto your side of the plate for you to have.

You eat it and move to some of the last of the spaghetti and then you both realize the last of the spaghetti is just one long strand and your lips move closer and closer.

Both your lips meet in the middle of the noodle and you kiss. Spencer’s eyes widen and he bites the noodle so you can eat the last of it.

You laugh at the silly moment and Spencer chuckles.

“Tastes like strawberries.” Spencer comments making you laugh again. He loves making you laugh.

You hold up the strawberry lipgloss from before and are about to reapply when Spencer clears his throat.

“Let me, please?” He asks and you smile and nod to give the okay.

Spencer squeezes the tube until enough product comes up and yet again rubs it on your lips until they’re shiny and covered in the sweet scent. He twists the cap back on and hands it back to you.

“Luscious, aren’t they?” You ask pouting your lips and posing. Spencer nods in awe of the beauty glowing from within you.

“This is the best date I’ve ever been on.” You tell him.

“Me too. Usually they’ve ran out the door by now.” Spencer jokes, something he found easy with you.

You laugh, “Who would ever run from you Spencer? You’re amazing.”

Spencer blushes and holds your hand and you leave the restaurant together and you squeeze his hand lovingly.

When he walks you to your apartment and reaches the door he waits for you to unlock it.

You two stand in the doorway and Spencer gets close to you and whispers, “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

You nod in agreeance and lean in closer until your lips meet again. When you finally pull away you decide to make a joke.

“That was better without a spaghetti noodle in between us.”

Spencer cracks up, “Hey don’t knock the spaghetti kiss, it was romantic, and at least we got to eat it. Hey,” He stares at your lips. “I think you need more lipgloss now.”

“What’s the point? It’s gonna get messed up again anyway.” You smirk and lead him to the couch. Spencer smiles.

Nothing could ever top the way you make him feel. Loved.

the end 💘

tags- 🍓

if you’d like to be tagged in all future works you can comment a 🍓

@whoisspence @starshinegarcia @fictionalobssed @exoticisles @in-another-april @gallifreyan-idiocracy

people who wanted to be tagged in part two 🍓

@exhaleli @moonysreid @reidsatellite @fandoms-allovertheplace @kissesforspence @shibugs @khxna

idk why it wouldn’t tag some people. but thank you to anyone who liked part one enough to ask for part two i appreciate it sm😭💘

we are all strawberries.

watching ldsk in season one right now lmao

also face reveal this is me:

[soloorganaas]

blind date - @wolfstarmicrofic - 722 words

“No, Tonks I am not—”

Sirius broke off, running an infuriated hand through his hair as he reached the end of his tether.

“I don’t like bloody dating to start with. I am not going to sit in a restaurant trapped with a stranger for two hours.”

“Yeah, first of all it’s a bar not a restaurant, so the maximum commitment is a drink, which you’d walk out of anyway if you didn’t like the guy,” Tonks countered, undeterred. “Secondly, he’s not a stranger.”

Sirius stabbed his wand at the dishes in his sink and they obediently began to clean themselves.

“He’s some bloke from work you barely know, You can’t have any idea whether we’d like each other or not!”

Tonks smirked and Sirius inwardly cursed himself.

“So you admit there’s a possibility that you would like each other, though,” she said smugly. “That you are actually still open to the possibility of love despite professing a cold, broken heart.”

“Oh fuck off,” Sirius said, throwing a dish cloth at her. Tonks caught it with a grin.

“I know you’re open to it really! You’ve just got to let a tiny part of yourself go with it.”

Sirius heaved a sigh, frowning at the bubbles in the sink, and Tonks softened.

“You’ve changed a lot, you know. You’re not the same person you were then. It wouldn’t happen again.”

Sirius glared at her, then flicked his wrist and the soapy water drained away.

“What do you - well, what do you actually know about him?”

“He’s a professor, teaches muggles and wizards. He’s an expert in the dark arts and he’s not a weirdo about it.”

Sirius snorted.

“He’s very polite and patient,” Tonks continued, pressing her advantage. “Which I know because he answered every single very dumb question the department asked when he was in our office last week.”

“Working for the Ministry is a point against him.”

“He came in for one morning as an expert adviser,” Tonks said, ignoring Sirius’s goading. “And he was really cute.”

Sirius pressed his lips together, trying not to look too interested.

“What does he look like?”

“You know,” shrugged Tonks. “That sort of… thing you like.”

“Thing?” Sirius asked.

“A bit nerdy, sort of… you know… unconventional?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Odd. He’s a bit odd. But in a good way,” Tonks insisted.

“I do not have a thing for people who are odd!”

“You do. And you’ll have a thing for him, I promise. Saturday at 7! Don’t be late!”

~

Sirius wasn’t late - he was exactly two minutes early, just enough to look polite but not so much he seemed too keen.

The bar was dark, a maze of elegant booths and secluded tables and a long, mahogany bar top winding through it. He could barely make out the people in front of him, let alone any (hopefully attractive) strangers.

“Are you here to meet someone?”

Sirius looked round to see the hostess smiling politely up at him.

“Er, yes - under the name Tonks.”

“Mr. Black?”

“Yup - just point me in the right direction, I can find him,” Sirius said, wanting to avoid as many witnesses as possible to this awkward encounter.

“He’s waiting for you at the bar. Just by the marble pillar.”

“Great, thanks.”

Sirius made his way across the room towards where the bar top slid behind a sleek black obelisk. There was a faint shadow of a figure nearby it - clearly the other man wanted to avoid this as much as he did. Except that also meant Sirius would have no way of escaping once he’d caught sight of him.

A single leg dangled just into view, one brown brogue at the end and long fingers playing across its knee. Sirius took a breath.

“Excuse me, I’m Sirius Black, I’m looking for—”

His jaw dropped; his heart stopped.

“Sirius?”

“I…. Remus?”

Sirius looked around wildly as if he could have missed the man he was supposed to meet - but no, there was no one else. This was it.

Remus was staring at him with every bit of confusion and embarrassment that Sirius felt himself.

“I’m sorry, I — an acquaintance from work suggested I meet you here. She mustn’t have known…”

“She knew,” Sirius said shortly.

“She did?”

“She’s my cousin. You think she hasn’t heard about my ex-fiancé?”

[randompandabaewrites]

Born to Survive (1/2)

Astarion x f!Tav (tiefling), Canon Compliant,

Astarion's Romance, Act 1

1.8k of about 6k

part 2

Astarion's perfect little plan to seduce and manipulate Tav goes awry the first night he spends with her. But he should have known from the moment she agreed to meet him in the woods. // Part 1 of 2 cause this was longer than I planned for (heh). Astarion's dialogue is as close to the game as I could manage, with some embellishment. CW: Astarion's v healthy approach to sex/intimacy. MDNI This part is not explicit but part 2 is only that. Song Rec: Natural (Cover) by Kristen Collins & Kurt Hugo Schneider//

Astarion from the growing darkness watched as Tav knelt by the campfire, fighting with the instincts honed over centuries. 

Tonight, she was going to feel their razor’s edge—except she was going to live to see the morning. 

Maybe that was why the vampire was feeling a little bit of…hesitation, for once. He’d done this song of seduction and dance of deception more times than he could remember. It would be easy as any night on his back. She would be no different. 

So he thought. 

Tav was paying all of her attention to the fragrant herbs she’d gathered into neat bundles, binding them together, singing their edges to combine them, and deftly blowing them out again. 

It made Astarion scoff to think the tiefling had time to be concerned over such trivial matters. Tadpoles in their heads. Death stalking them at every corner. And here was the ranger, worried about potion ingredients camp supplies. 

And here he was, charming a mere ranger. 

Astarion watched as she brushed her long hair over her shoulder and out of her way to continue focusing on her task. His eyes traced the marks still visible on her neck. The twin punctures were worn so openly, brazenly advertising that she’d so willingly let a vampire feed from her. 

That was his way in. Because he remembered how…intimate that encounter was. A foreign concept from a life of feeding on rotten rats—but he was more than familiar with the way her body trembled under his teeth.

Astarion rolled his shoulders back to relax, composed his face into a charming smile, and sauntered over to the fireplace. 

“Darling, there you are.” 

“Astarion!” Tav jumped, nearly dropping the herbs into the flames. “Gods, you’re quieter than any prey I’ve tracked.”

He gave a flippant wave to ward off her comment. If only she knew how groomed he was to stalk the most clever and dangerous of prey. 

“I was just thinking about you. Remembering our time together, the things we shared…”

Tav straightened up from her crouch at the fire. She arched an eyebrow, and rested her hand on her cocked hip. “Astarion, if you need blood—” 

“I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours,” he interrupted smoothly. He made a point of his eyes traveling over her figure, wondering what was hidden under supple leather armor—worn, well-used armor.”I’m growing to like the whole package.” 

“Really?” Tav asked, her tone dripping with a skepticism he didn’t appreciate. “I didn’t think a little dirt would do it for ya.” 

Her bright eyes raked over his impeccably kept appearance, which he had still managed after an abduction and days out in the wilds, thank you very much. 

But then Astarion noticed the slight swish of her tail. Though tieflings weren’t as common among his targets, he’d charmed and manipulated a few in his endless nights on the streets. 

Tav was either irritated…or interested. 

And Astarion knew just how to tilt that reaction into his favor. 

“Honestly,” he protested, stepping a bit closer to her. “And, you clearly like me too.” 

Her tail slashed back and forth, disturbing the dust near the fire. Even as she wore that face of suspicion and doubt. Cute little thing. Like a kitten who thought her mewling was a roar.

 “Come now, don’t be coy.” Astarion stepped artfully into her personal space, crowding her against the log that Karlach had placed as a bench before the fire. “Your body has already given you away…I could feel it.” 

Tav swallowed, and his eyes were drawn right to the graceful slope of her neck. 

As if she needed any more reminding of the night he first fed from her. How she had laid her head back into his hold. How he nearly lost control when he tasted the sweet nectar flowing through her veins—he almost forgot how she squirmed under him, but didn’t push him away. Then, that traitorous tail of hers curled up at the point. 

She may as well have broadcast her arousal to the entire camp. 

Astarion raised a hand, ghosting his touch along the defiant line of her jaw, down to her throat and the fading marks his fangs had left behind. She didn’t flinch at his almost-caress. In fact, she was already tilting her chin to it. 

“The little shivers, when I was getting lost, in your neck…”

Some feeling bubbled up unbidden from within the vampire. That moment, his first time taking blood from a thinking creature, well he couldn’t help it if that was special to him too. Astarion could still feel her fingers coiling at the small hairs at the back of his own neck.

It was…intimate. Like hadn’t known before. 

No. 

He quickly buried the foreign desires and slipped back into the persona that never failed to stoke them in others. Want was a weapon in his arsenal, one that he could wield with lethal dexterity. 

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” 

Tav’s teeth bit into her bottom lip, and she must know that she’d been caught. The agitated flicking of her tail slowed. Astarion knew that he had her when the pointed tip began to curl. 

“So I did.” 

A triumphant grin tugged at the corners of the elf’s mouth. He, deliberately, tilted his head to her, so the setting sunlight might catch his gleaming fangs when he grinned. 

He was always so careful to conceal his nature from unsuspecting prey until he could pull them into the shadows. But Tav’s obvious attraction to his vampiric features was something he fully intended to exploit. 

Such a wicked weakness for good girl. 

“So did I, more than words could say.” He let his rich voice drip with honey as he finally let his cool fingers touch her heated skin, skimming deftly over the fading twin marks. 

Tav shivered under his hand, but didn’t pull away. 

He had her now. 

Astarion loomed closer, his cool breath ghosting over her pointed ear. “I was so…very pleased with what you gave me, darling. You deserve a reward.” 

He expected her to melt into the caress of hand and his words, but Tav stiffened under his attentions and pulled back. Confusion flickered over the elf’s face before he could conceal it behind an innocently wounded expression. What did he say wrong?

“I don’t need a reward, Astarion.” Tav’s tone was firm, but irritatingly gentle. Which just made him want to snap his fangs in frustration. She ducked back to pick up her abandoned herbs, bundling them up neatly, and literally slipping right out of his fingers. “Some people help just for the sake of helping, you know?”

Astarion bit back the scathing retort that rose to his lips. 

It wouldn’t do him any good in his current objective, and might just shatter the fragile mood he had so carefully constructed. 

Instead, he forced a disarming chuckle and slid onto the log seat next to her. “Of course dear, I simply meant we could take an evening to ourselves.” Her tail twitched next to him. “Get away from camp, get some…privacy.” 

Astarion’s silver tongue was not about to fail him now. Tav’s back was to him, taking her time packing her herbs away, a tension lingering in her shoulders that he wanted to sooth away with his hands—or his mouth. 

She was proving to be more of a challenge. No matter, he enjoyed a good game of cat and mouse. Though he had no intention of being the mouse. 

Tav turned back to face him, those jewel-like eyes scrutinizing his face, like she was trying to pierce the winsome smile he plied as a well-worn mask.

She leaned closer, bringing her earthy smell of herbs and leather and something wild that made something in him ache for more. To have her closer—to feed, obviously, nothing more. 

For a fleeting moment, Astarion was certain he had Tav ensnared at last. 

“We don’t need to leave camp for you to feed on me, you know?”

Gods dammit. 

There it was again, that insufferable, good-guy tone that made him want to tear his perfect curls—he’d already seen Tav run headlong into danger over some undeserving wretch just under the pretense of doing the right thing. It might just make Astarion ill. 

“And you don’t owe me for it, either.” The sincerity in her voice was making his cold skin crawl. 

Astarion had lived long enough to know that altruism was a myth. Benevolence was meant to beguile. And anyone offering a hand would want their palms greased. 

Tav was either a fool, or the trickiest devil he’d tangled with yet. 

The misunderstood outcast card was not his favorite hand to play, but it worked so well on those with a savior complex. 

“Oh, I understand.” Astarion said softly, arranging his face into a petulant pout. 

Tav’s brows furrowed, and she finally looked back up at him. “You do?”

“I do. Stealing off into the woods with a vampire…” He let his voice trail off, oh so hopelessly. “It is a lot to ask you to put your faith in me.” 

“Astarion, that’s not—” 

He cut her off with a wounded sigh. “You do not trust me.” 

Astarion stood and turned away, shoulders slumped in feigned dejection, waiting for her to take the bait.  She would get to her feet and follow. He could count it down in his head. 

Three, two, one…

“I do trust you.” Tav’s soft voice was almost pleading. 

A slow, satisfied smile curved Astarion’s lips, surprised she’d yet to faint from that bleeding heart. 

“Then, trust me.” Astarion purred, closing the distance between them in one sinuous stride. He loomed over her, feeling the rush of her pulse fluttering at the base of her neck. 

Tav reached for his hand, but the vampire deftly bypassed it. His long fingers encircled her wrist, the heat of her skin sinking into his palm and warming him already. 

Her eyes were wide, nearly luminous in the gathering dusk, but he let his gaze linger on her mouth, his own lips parting ever so slightly. 

“Trust me, when I promise you a night you will never forget.” He lowered his voice and let shadows fall over his crimson eyes. 

Tav shivered, and Astarion knew it had nothing to do with the temperate air. He could smell her arousal, heady and sweet, as obvious as the almost perfect curl her tiefling tail was making. 

“Okay,” she breathed, her word a little more than a sigh. “I trust you.”

A victorious grin spread over his lips and through his veins. He finally had her right where he wanted her. Under his hand as he cupped her cheek, drawing her close, his breath ghosting over her lips before finding her pointed ear.

“See you there, lover.” 

part 2

[loriache]

honestly i'm kind of interested in the idea of laios in an arranged marriage. because obviously straight-up inherited monarchies are ...bad, to say the least! but it's what the characters are familiar with (even laios' father's extremely local, extremely minor leadership role is inherited, presumably through the male line). and it isn't just about what they think the best way to run melini is; in terms of ensuring that the other longed-lived nations respect melini's continued sovereignty, having it passed down in a manner that's close enough to their own ways for them to understand it and respect it is important. And it seems like most of the other nations have leadership through inheritance - thought that isn't confirmed for certain except with the elves.

Also, a marriage carries the potential to establish foreign allies - something melini is certainly lacking. A marriage could come with resources they'll badly need, treaties of mutual defence, money, legitimacy and political capital... not that these things can't be worked around, but if laios isn't strongly opposed, there are a lot of advantages! and i don't think he would be, because that's the framework for marriage (conferring practical advantages, building intracommunity relationships and providing a partner to do important work that he can't do) that he had grown up with. he isn't exactly a romantic and I doubt he's holding out for any sort of relationship of that nature.

Like, I don't think it's impossible that they would go with this path, because it's the most obvious and it carries a lot of advantages and it's what almost all the decision-making characters would consider normal and not objectionable. and it could be so interesting.

I think Laios would have major hangups if expected (i.e., by Marcille) to establish a genuine, romantic interest in a woman. Whether because of his sexual or romantic orientation, or just his own deep-seated trauma about rejection and being inherently disgusting and scary. And I think he'd hate the idea of having kids, too, and be very frightened of being like his father. But I don't think he'd refuse on that basis; he could cope with a marriage contract, with clearly laid-out expectations and responsibilities. And when it came to having a kid, I think he'd be reluctant to express that he doesn't want to do it, because he isn't naive and he understood when he agreed to be king it would carry responsibilities like this. It's clear from his nightmare that he already felt pressure from his parents to have children, probably magnified by the fact his father has got a position, responsibilities and wealth to pass on. Obviously he isn't a perfect martyr, so he might struggle when it comes to actually going through with it - but I don't think he'd actually, outright refuse. I think he might do it even though he doesn't want to, and I think that could be really messy in a way that appeals to me.

I don't know, there's something about negotiating these kinds of complicated situations that's interesting to me. and i love a platonic marriage. If they find a woman who has an interest in education, for example, and can work with marcille on setting up schools and universities. she'd ideally be politically savvy enough to be an able partner to laios: even though kabru can and would continue to do a lot of that, there are different spheres that a queen and a prime minister can work within!

how would their relationship work? maybe she finds laios' perspective on the world, and his frankness, unexpectedly liberating after an extremely controlled, cloistered upbringing. maybe she had a rebellious phase, has magic, or something else which makes her a relatively unpopular candidate for marriage - even as melini grows in power, i doubt that they'd be getting offers for the cream of the crop in terms of perceived value on the marriage market, because laios' relationship is a bit too ambivalent/monstrous for that, and melini too new. maybe she's a widow! an older woman, wouldn't that be cool - though they'd want her young enough that she could definitely still have kids.

certainly i think he'd be happy for her to pursue other relationships, though ideally in a manner that couldn't produce illegitimate kids. with other relationships in play, that's even more interesting. like, both kabru and toshiro have complicated emotions relating to infidelity. i think kabru would actually find it quite cathartic to be in the kind of high-status environment that rejected his mother for perceived infidelity, pursuing an affair that all parties consent to, though he'd likely be incredibly aware of the public image - since "image" is what he was rejected for. toshiro... i just really really love the way he'd feel about being the "other woman" in laios' marriage, considering his feelings about his father and maizuru. especially given how much closer he is to maizuru than his mother, being in her position...! his emotions would be so complex, it's incredibly tasty. i bet he'd make a bunch of assumptions about how laios' wife feels about it and be totally wrong, and that's so interesting. also, i think laios' wife should fuck marcille (she and falin have an open relationship).

[sturnsbabie]

𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lil skies x sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which sls gets questioned about who she was with.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing,mentions of sex,angst.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭:700

not the best chap but im slowly tryinf to get to the good parts and not rush this story😖

i had just got back in the car with nate and mikayla and they both started instantly asking me questions.

“girl where the fuck you been?”mikayla asked me.

“what do you mean? i told you i was going to the bathroom.” i said.

“girl it doesnt take a hour to use the bathroom.we been out here waiting” she said as she pulled out of the venue.

“well sorry i got distracted.”i said.

i couldnt tell them that i was with skies because it was a secret between me and him. it stayed between us and nobody would know.

“why you have hickeys all over ya neck?” nate asked as his jaw started clenching.

“because i made out with a random guy and it was a heat of the moment type thing.” i said as i was playing with the sleeve of skies hoodie.

“and the fuck ya do that for!”nate asked.

“because im my own person and i can do whatever the fuck i want to.” i said rolling my eyes.

“uh incase ya didnt forget me and you yeah we have only been exclusively fuckin eachother.”he said.

“nate its her birthday for fucks sake give the girl a break” mikayla said as she was driving.

“yeah exactly that and also incase you forgot im not your fucking girl so dont treat me like i am.”i said as i was scrolling thru the pictures skies and i took on my phone.

“also us fuckin yeah thats over with.”i added.

“oh so ya meet a random guy fuck he puts you in his clothes and now you decide your done with me?”nate asked with a hint of hurt in his voice.

“yeah sorry.”i said as i turned the radio on playing skies to drown out nates arguments.

i felt bad for being mean to him about it but like at the sametime he already knew we wouldnt work out even if we tried and yet he still caught feelings when i didnt.

the rest of the ride back to my house was silent except for skies voice playing thru the radio.

the whole way home all i could think about was him and the way he had me earlier. i was hooked and i needed more.

.•°♡°•.

after 15 minutes mikayla dropped me off at my house and i went inside to be met with my brothers all sitting on the couch.

“woah what the fuck is on your neck and whos clothes are those”chris questioned me.

“random guy at the skies concert”i shrugged.

“you literally just turned eighteen today and youre already out sleeping with random guys?” chris said.

“you act like you werent doing worse when you were seventeen chris.”i said as i sat beside nick.

“chris dont fucking start on her its her birthday and as long as shes being careful then it shouldn’t fucking matter!” nick said.

matt was quiet and chris was over there fuming. i didnt know why everyone was sooo mad that i got fucked on my birthday. if only they knew it was skies.

“well i wasnt flaunting hickeys and shit all over my neck when i was your age” chris said.

i rolled my eyes. “i didnt have time to cover them chris i was literally in the car and have i once made it obvious theres hickeys on my neck?no!” i said looking at my lockscreen. it was a picture skies and i took on the tourbus.

“chris just stop running your mouth your clearly just mad she got to go see skies” matt said.

chris rolled his eyes. “matt im not jealous im just concerned about out sisters safety.”he said.

i rolled my eyes and got up walking to my room.

once i got in my room i felt my phone go off and i looked at the notification.

INSTAGRAM!

[YN.STURNIOLO]: lilskies started following you.

[YN.STURNIOLO]: lilskies: that was the best pussy i ever had.

[YN.STURNIOLO]: lilskies:cant stop thinkin about how your ass was bouncing on my dick.

[YN.STURNIOLO]:lilskies: let me pick you up tomorrow and come to this party with me in boston baby.

TAGLIST: @sturniololoves , @delaneysturniolo , @a-m-b-e-r-r , @milesfordays11 , @sturniol0s , @riowritesitall , @kriissy4gov , @m0r94n , @laylataylor0910 , @delusional-4-fake-people

[my-beloved-ghosts-and-me]

everybody talks about "but daddy i love him" but we don't talk about "how did it end" enough

"Come one, come all / It's happening again / The empathetic hunger descends / We'll tell no one except all of our friends / We must know / How did it end?"

and

"Soon they'll go home to their husbands / Smug cause they know they can trust him / Then feverishly calling their cousins / Guess who we ran into at the shops / Walking in circles like she was lost / Didn't you hear they called it all off / One gasp, and then / How did it end?"

are clearly about us and honestly? this is so fucking sad

she clearly feels like we and the media are vultures waiting to feast once again on the corpse of her relationship and drink off her pain and sadness

she sings and writes about her feelings but we consume them as products and therefore we consume her life and forget that taylor is a fucking human being, not a product and that's a little bit dehumanizing actually but hey, we really want to know how did it end and after all ttpd it's an album for joe or matty? these were and still are the hot topics about this album right?

she's right, i couldn't go for her job bc i very much like to be seen as a person with real feelings and worthy of empathy in hard moments of my life like you know ending a 6y.o. relationship

[bookshelfdreams]

Very true, Niko! And you would know all about that, wouldn't you.

Niko's wardrobe (just like her entire character) is very - strange. Usually, you want your characters to be recognizable, especially early in a story. Characters will have their colour palettes and silhouettes, their statement pieces, their individual style that fist their role in the narrative and who they are as a person. For the most part, the costume design in dbd adheres to this standard; almost every character has a very cohesive wardrobe.

Except for Niko. There's nothing that unifies her costumes, that allows us to get a sense of her style. Even her hair is constantly changing, despite the hair&make-up department clearly struggling to do anything with that horrible wig.

The most recognizable thing about Niko is her monochromatic outfits, but even those are so inconsistent, the colours vary so widely, that they don't tell us anything about her as a person - but they do reflect the stories she finds herself in and that unfold around her.

So let's look at the associations of the colours, because I don't actually know anything about fashion, but I do love colour theory.

03

Green is for emotional stability, thinks Niko, but that's not quite true. Green is more commonly associated with growth, life, new beginnings, rebirth, hope.

This episode, Niko comes out of her shell for the first time. She makes friends. She leaves her room to go on an adventure, even though she gets scared by her own courage, at first, and retreats (she will not make that mistake again).

A home is not always a safe space, is it? Sometimes it is a trap that you're caught in. Niko leaves hers at the end, running out into the streets to save her friends: growth. New beginnings. And her friends, meanwhile, freed those poor Devlin girls and their mother from their horrible prison. An end, but also, rebirth in death: they finally get to move on to the next step, leave the stasis they have been for almost three decades. And the older girl's name is Hope, which is probably a coincidence, but nonetheless extremely satisfying to my conspiracy-prone brain.

04

Red. Courage, as she herself says: Niko is quite literally leaving her comfort zone, going on her first case, and needs all the courage she can get. It is a bold, decisive colour, fearless, strong. The colour of firefighters and ambulances, a colour that tells you you're about to be rescued, and she does save Crystal's life in this one.

But, of course, that easily tips over. Red is a colour of aggression, of anger and pain and violence. We have the Night Nurse, who goes around dredging up trauma, making people relive their worst moments. We have our monster of the week, we have raw meat and blood to bait it. We have, of course, the washer woman. And we have an outbreak of violence at the end.

(And also, red light is the most affected by absorbance. It is hardly visible underwater and disappears completely after about 10m. Maybe that is why Niko wasn't affected at all by Angie; maybe she just couldn't see her.)

05

What does the pink mean then? Romance, of course, the central theme of this episode, but her outfit is uncharacteristically mismatched, even for her, and so are the romances in this episode. Nothing works out as it's supposed to, does it? Maxine and Jenny, the jocks and their girlfriends, even Edwin and Monty: everything shoved haphazardly together, held together by force of will alone, no harmony at all.

Well. It's not Niko's fault nothing works out in the end. But man, she really did need to take off the rose-tinted glasses (metaphorically, not literally. The literal glasses are great.)

06

Oh, feeling blue, are we? A colour of melancholy and regrets. Niko is trying so hard to leave behind the whimsy, to be mature and disillusioned, but even at her lowest, this bright, powdery shade doesn't really bring the mood down. Niko is too much herself to give up on the things she loves that easily.

Blue is also the colour of dreams. Hidden things, the subconscious. And this is what this episode is all about, not for Niko, but for Crystal. She unlocks that which sleeps within her. And it is Niko (unwillingly, through her own special kind of luck) who hands her the key.

07

Bright orange! That is an - unusual colour choice for symbolism. Orange has few strong associations. Most often, I think, orange is a signal. Not quite a warning, but close - watch out, it says, pay attention. And Niko does, and saves the day.

(And what else does orange remind you of? A highly visible sign, something that shows you the right way? The warm glow of a flame, contained in a lantern or spreading uncontrollably in an explosion? Yes, this is an orange episode.)

08

White.

Death.

Obviously. White is the colour of the dead and dying: bones, and bloodless skin, and flowers on a grave. Of course Niko would know to dress in a shroud for her last day on earth. You cannot wear an all-white outfit and expect it to not be bloodstained at the end of the day, and Niko knows it's scary and the odds are bad and we might die horrifically.

But she has found bravery, and will not run away, will face the danger head on. Dressed like an offering, pure and untouched, off to sacrifice herself she goes.

It's not the end though. Death is not the end, not in this story, and white is the colour of purity, of a blank slate, of transformation. Death is only here to guide you on your way forward. Niko's story does not end here. It is her kindness and pure heart that saves her; and although she dies, she is not gone. She changes.

Into what remains to be seen.

[scratchtovoid]

Ok let me talk about this section of the Variety interview for a minute because this sounds like the direction I suspected they were going and I want to talk about why I like it.

[BOOK SPOILERS AHEAD]

So Daemon and Rhaenyra’s story ends in tragedy. It’s entirely build on this idea of distrust that festers under the surface and what distrust can mean to a person.

There’s always so much discussion on what family means to Daemon and it usually revolves around love and the idea of him loving or not loving his family. But what that discussion tends to miss is how Daemon sees himself within his family.

He’s not the outsider he paints himself as. He desperately wants to be accepted and valued by his family. It was the push/pull he had with Viserys and he’s continuing that dynamic with Rhaenyra.

And that takes on different forms, withdrawing when he feels rebuffed, lashing out when he feels misunderstood or underestimated, and pretending he doesn’t even care.

Except he does care. He cares a lot.

And then he loses his brother and immediately after that he fails to protect the boy he raised. A boy he clearly sees as a son.

“Oh but he wanted the ~Strong~ boys dead!!”

No. That’s your headcanon.

Look at the text! He said “A son for a son”

And I was hoping the show would start there because to Daemon he has just failed. All that bravado, preparation, violence, none of it actually protected his family. Luke was still murdered.

And Daemon is who he is. That feeling of loss and failure is going to come out as violence.

(I’m not justifying. This is character analysis. We’re her to examine not judge.)

So what happened when Rhaenyra’s distrust of him is added to that emotional fire?

The show needed to plant the seeds of distrust in Rhaenyra so that the eventual ending of this relationship made sense. Having her be paranoid out of nowhere would just give us that sharp turn into the lazy “Targaryen madness” narrative.

Rhaenyra is a mother who has just lost a baby and a son and is facing a husband who is likely not communicating with her, undermining her, lashing out at her for his own feelings.

And she’s a woman raised in a society where men are under no obligation to listen to their wives.

Of course she doubts.

But I don’t think this only results in anger and paranoia. I think the show is pivoting to something more introspective. To both clarify how these characters really feel about their relationship and their own ambitions and to set them up to be truly broken by one another.

Because the end of this is that Rhaenyra’s distrust of Daemon brings him to the point of giving up. To the point of sacrificing his own life to try and prove himself to his family and his queen.

The story needs to keep moving in that direction and these are the first signs of it.