#ill try to be worthy of your colors

[applecarrotbread]

They invented love your honor!

[musical-chick-13]

I did NOT spend five fucking years breaking my back and my brain getting a degree in this for people to say that musical theatre is corny and useless and inherently shameful.

[amoreva]

GHOST IN THE WIND

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pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: after a rough turnout of the quest assigned to you, you began to see your ex-boyfriend as the poison slowly kills you.

warnings: angst, post luke betrayal, poisoning, mentions of effects of poison

a/n: so sorry, was taking a slight break on requests for this fic and the fic series that is in the works. I promise i will answer the requests at some point.

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“Medic!” The door to the medical cabin slammed open. The door knob made a hole in wooden walls at Annabeth’s strength. “Will…”

She rasped out, carrying your dead weight. Your breath coming in short bursts as if your lungs couldn’t hold any more air. Veins darkened to the color of night, crawling up your flesh like a parasite itching to take over the host.

“Oh my gods…” Will Solace, head counselor of Apollo Cabin, gasped and helped you onto one of the uncomfortable cots.

You were mumbling nonsense as black liquid dribbled out of your mouth. Will called out your name, desperately trying to grab your attention. Annabeth was standing over you, concerned.

“Oh gods! Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!” The other Apollo kid on duty piped up, scrambling to find the ambrosia. It was scary how you looked.

It was like something from the Underworld took hold of your body. There was a puncture wound on your abdomen, which was the probable entrance for the poison.

“Hey, hey—stay conscious for me, okay?” Will spoke as your vision began to get cloudy. He can see you withering away and demanded for information.

“Will…” You managed to croak out. Your friend looked at you with worry, to see the brightest camper succumb to an unknown illness was…bone-chilling.

“Don’t sleep—just don’t black out.” Will muttered as you tasted your favorite fruits as ambrosia slid down your throat easily. “Please…I don’t know if you’ll wake up—”

You were out like a light. The ambrosia combating the poison overwhelmed your body. It was too much for your mind to even find a sliver of energy to try and stay conscious.

Your name was shouted, but sleep pulled you away from the medical cabin and throwing you into a different scene.

It was dark, like you were walking in an empty void. “Judgement.”, you think. You must’ve died and was waiting to get judged on whether you can enter Elysium or not.

What a shitty death. Dying from poison, it wasn’t hero worthy nor significant to a war. Just death to some ghastly poison that you were careless to figuring out what it was.

But…it’s not Judgement. It’s not because you see him. He’s walking around in clothes you last remember him in. Orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, khaki pants and sneakers. The beads on his necklace moving each time he walked.

You know he isn’t dead. He Iris-messaged you yesterday to apologize for his betrayal. He can’t be dead. You wouldn’t have it.

“Luke!” You tried to call out, but no sound is made from your mouth. It terrified you. You tried to scream your lover’s (ex-lover’s) name again as you saw claws wrap around Luke from the ground and drag him in.

You tried to scream his name again, running to him, but your legs felt like sludge. He stared at you indifferently, accepting his reality—maybe…maybe just maybe you could save him if you run fast enough.

He slipped between your fingers. His chocolate curls disappearing into the floor of whatever abyss you’re in. You let out a silent, dry sob. If…if you had just noticed sooner…you could’ve saved him.

The same hands wrap around your limbs, tugging you down into the floor. Crying out for help, your heart tightened as if someone had a grip on it—squeezing ever last bit of life out. A sharp pull engulfed you into the void.

You gasped deeply. Body launching forward as you grabbed at your chest. You expected the familiar wood floors of the medical cabin or even Will’s warm smile, but…you were on Half-Blood Hill.

Soft, calloused hands were gently placed in your spine. It doesn’t take an Athena kid to figure out who it was.

“You alright?” His deep warm tone filled your head making yourself dizzy. For moment…you allowed yourself to believe he was here, truly.

“Yeah.” You spoke, surprised to hear your voice again. What happened before becoming less and less memorable as you turned to look at Luke.

“You can tell me, y’know? What’s bothering you.” Luke reassured and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

A familiar smile graces your lips, allowing yourself to relax, you lean up against his chest. “I know.” You mumbled as his toned arms wrap around you. “I just…miss you.”

“Miss me? I’m hardly ever away from you.” Luke playfully teased.

The breeze blew against the two of you causing Luke to squeeze you a little tighter. You always claimed he was a human body heater.

Everything dropped. Faded in an all too quick manner before you could even scream for Luke. He was ripped away from you—but you were supposed to be in his arms.

“Hey! She’s up!” Someone called out.

You mind felt fuzzy. Mumbles, moans and groans tumbled out of your lips. You felt like you were outta your own skin—you jerked. Uncomfortable with this sudden irritation.

Annabeth yelped. The sudden reaction from you almost hit her in the face. Another groan of discomfort and pain escaped. Accompanied by it was another struggle to get whatever was out of your body.

To you, it felt like you were shifting a little to get comfortable. In reality, your body was violently twitching and reacting you hit a few Apollo kids. The veins darker than before, your skin paler than usual. What did this poison do?

“Get her—restrain…I—” Will demanded, worried you’d end up hurting yourself.

You screamed as something grabbed you, someone grabbed you. Your brain could only register it as danger and hurt and agony and—

“Stop it—!” You begged. Your voice sounded demented, as if it was the poison talking.

Black liquid oozed out of your mouth as you begged for whatever to stop. Ambrosia was forced down your throat. Lights were too bright. The panic was defeating.

You fell.

But you felt no pain.

It was “Judgement” again. The endless void surrounding the distinct figure, you. “There you are…” Luke grinned once he spotted you. Your legs carrying you to the Hermes’ counselor before you could think of the action.

The void morphed into the familiar forest used to play Capture the Flag. Luke laced his hand with yours. “S’just up ahead.” He tugged you along.

Once more, you let yourself relax like this was the reality that fate has set and not one where Luke betrayed Camp, betrayed Percy, betrayed Annabeth, betrayed…you.

“Where are you taking me?” You laughed. A bright smile on your face as you maneuvered through the forest.

Slipping through the trees and branches, Luke brings you to the dock. The water washing up on the small beach.

A small cliche red and white checkered blanket laid out across the wooden dock, masking the potential splinters. There was chips and two soda cans on the blanket and six roses bunched up to make it look like a bouquet.

“Oh Luke…” Any confusion or anger evaporated when you saw the scene.

He smiled, smiled that charming grin and pulled you to sit down on the blanket. “Used up the rest of my money for the snacks and to bargain with a Demeter kid for these.”

He held up the six roses. The petals a delicate red, soft as a baby’s bum. They smelled nice. He went through all this effort for you?

“Luke…” You repeat in the same tone and took the roses from his hand. You noticed the thorns were cut off and a couple of band aids were around his fingers.

A show of his effort to rid the thorns so you didn’t prick your fingers.

“This…this is all wonderful.” You said, albeit a bit breathless. The roses, the snacks, the blanket—all the thought put into this date. It made you forget you were dreaming. You should’ve known…this was too good to be true.

But you stayed oblivious and in denial, tackling your (ex) boyfriend in a grateful hug. Luke laughed and wrapped your arm around your waist.

Yet, your subconscious pulled you from the happy moment. An uncomfortable feeling itching to tear your guts and organs to shreds. It was as if your own organs and nerves did not belong there—like they were in the wrong body. A warbled scream left your throat. Hands desperate to claw at your flesh.

You wanted it to stop—you would do anything to get this feeling to stop. Your heart breaking. To be ripped away from Luke again and again. In both subconscious and reality was cruel.

Your veins now tendrils crawling up your face, stopping just a little above your eyebrows.

“Hey, hey—breathe!” Someone comforted. You couldn’t recognize their face. It was like as if your sense of familiarity disappeared, triggering your fight or flight (mostly fight) response.

“Will—the antidote?!” A girl called out. Her voice somewhat familiar.

You struggled against binds. You wanted to run far, far away and stop this pain. The pain in your body, the pain in your mind…the agonizing ache in your heart.

“Luke—” The name left your lips desperate for any sort of answer to what was happening.

A small pinch.

Fire. White hot pain sprouting in your body. Burning your insides out. Another cry for help. Another scream of desperation. His name leaving your mouth. It hurt—it hurt all too much. Both the burning in your body and the reality of him being gone. Truly, gone.

“Luke! Please…please—help!”

Overwhelmed, you were sucked back into the dream. This time on a cabin bed. It was unclear on whose cabin you two were in. Luke had his arms around your waist, head on your stomach. The pain fleeting, but lingering.

The stars shined brights whilst the moonlight blessed you two. It was peaceful, almost…dare you say—normal. No gods, no goddesses, no prophecies, no quests, no betrayal, no hurt. Nothing.

You found yourself humming, running your fingers through his curls, and feeling your eyes close with fatigue.

“Falling asleep there, sweetheart?” You could feel his smile against your skin. He pressed a kiss to the flesh nearest to his lips.

“Mhm…” Your body flared up due to a burn—but there was no fire in the cabin. You stayed put. “I—I could spend all of eternity with you.”

“I could spend all of my time in Elysium with you.” Luke mumbled and turned his head to look up at you.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, then his hands, so he was close to you. Lips connected like hands clasping for prayer. It was soft, yet it spoke a lot of words that he could not get out.

“I love you. Never forget that, okay?” Luke whispered against your lips.

His beaded necklace hovering over you. You placed your arms around his neck slowly and kissed him again. Never wanting the moment to stop.

Even then, you never had the courage to say those three simple words to Luke. Realizing this might be the last time you see him, dream or not. It made you sad he never heard it from you.

Maybe this will make up for it?

“I love you—I love you. I love you.” You repeated. Your voice shaky, holding back tears. This wasn’t real and you know it’s not real—but…you missed Luke. You missed him so much that it hurts. You didn’t believe he would betray Camp Half-Blood and you without Kronos’ manipulation.

“Hey…” Luke cupped your face and kissed your forehead. He grabbed your arms to sit up. It wasn’t good to cry laying down. “Don’t tear up. Everything will be okay, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you—?”

“I’m sorry, but you have the wake up.” Luke sighed and pressed his forehead with yours.

“Wait—“

“You have to wake up.” Luke grasped your hands. He held you as if this was the last time.

“What?”

“I love you very much and—and I’m so sorry for leaving you there—“

“Luke—wait!”

Your eyes shot up to be met with wooden walls of the medical cabin. Will and Annabeth shot up, ready to take necessary precautions. A dry sob left your mouth.

“Hey…” Will spoke softly.

You sat up, tears cascading down your face. You started to helplessly wipe them. You could feel his touch lingering. His hands grasping yours. Will pulled you into a soft hug when he deducted the poison was out of your system.

The mind is cruel, the poison was cruel. Fate was cruel, life was cruel.

You missed him.

You buried into Will as if it was him. Will and Annabeth thought you were crying because of the overwhelming feelings of what happened when you were poisoned.

You missed him.

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[coff33andb00ks]

20 Oscar

20: pressing the other’s hand against their cheek

warnings: author doesn't understand the meaning of the word "short" and (badly written) descriptions of a wreck during a race (no injuries)

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Piastri just doesn't give a fuck.

Oscar is just too chill.

Does he ever show emotion except when he's laughing at Lando?

You try to stay out of comments. Hell, you try to stay off social media, it's nothing but a cesspool of people with too much time on their hands and not enough brain cells to comprehend more than the surface level of what they're shown. But sometimes you like it, because there are creative people who put out beautifully edited videos of your boyfriend. Sometimes you show them to him, enjoying his giggling while he watches and shakes his head over someone finding him attractive enough to warrant a thirty second video set to a Rihanna song.

But the comments about his emotionless black cat behavior hurt. He's so much more than how he portrays himself. He's vibrant and so full of life, and you will forever appreciate the people who see beyond his social anxiety and notice his amazing sense of humor, his passion for racing and life. They'll never know the real him and will probably never understand why you fell in love with him.

Him. The sweet and shy guy who'd come to your defense when a rude customer had been berating you over a wrong order. His voice had cut over her yelling, calm and measured, and after your manager had kicked out the irrationally angry woman it had been Oscar that had approached you to check on you, frowning when he saw your tears. His gentle tone had calmed you, his respectful stance had won your admiration, and his calling the woman a fucking cunt had made you smile.

You wish you could defend him as he continues to defend you. When a video questioning how a nobody like you had bagged a formula one rookie had gone somewhat viral he'd taken to twitter and unleashed such a beautifully worded rant that people were still quoting it more than a year later.

It's come to my attention that some so-called fans are referring to my girlfriend as a nobody. Allow me to introduce her to you. She's funny, she's brilliant, she's beautiful. She's every word you can think of to describe the perfect person and she's so much more. She shines light in the darkest corners of my soul. Her eyes are a map of my universe. When you look at us together, know that I am constantly trying to be worthy of the love she gives me, and know that if you speak ill of her you will never have my respect but you will have my disgust.

You would never ever doubt his love for you. Not that you ever had but that had cemented it. You could never come to his defense in such a way. If you even tried you'd be sneered at for being a try hard.

And really, you didn't need to. Because the one thing Oscar did not give a fuck about was anyone's opinion. Only a handful of people mattered enough to him for him to care what they thought. You were blessed to be included on that list.

You love him so much that for a while it scared you, having never fallen into the this one person is my moon and stars mindset. But now you understand. He didn't just hang them, he is your moon and stars. Your one and only and if for some reason this doesn't end in forever you'll be ruined for any other man.

It was still a shock, though, when you felt your heart stop beating as you watched his car careen towards the barrier. The front wing clipped Max's rear tire and you can't breathe, watching in slow motion as the brightly colored car tips and lifts into the air. There is nothing but absolute silence around you in the McLaren garage and you're frozen, staring at the monitor while his car flips and rolls, carbon fiber flying in every direction when it lands upside down, his helmet just visible as it slides to a stop at the safety fence.

Silence. Then pandemonium. Your world has just flipped and spun and you can't breathe, ears straining to hear him but you can only hear the crackle of the radio when Zak and Tom try to get him to respond.

Then, finally, his voice. Shaken and scared. "Are they okay? Please tell me they're okay."

Of course he'd ask after the others involved. You can finally breathe but it hurts, not knowing that he's okay. And you can't do anything but wait, heart barely beating until he's finally out, he's moving, he's giving the fans a thumbs up as he's put on the stretcher. You still can't do a thing and you've never felt more useless than you do while you're waiting just inside the medical center with Zak and Lando, who'd come to wait during the red flag.

Then the most beautiful words you've ever heard.

"He's okay."

There's more after that, about him being transported to the local hospital for a complete check, the possibility of a concussion but he's okay. And you're allowed to go see him while the ambulance is readied.

He's sitting up, looking a little pale but he's not hurt, he's in one piece, and when he sees you he gasps. You try to be gentle when you embrace him, but he steals your breath, holding you so tightly it hurts, his face pressed into your neck.

"They won't tell me - are Max and George okay?" His voice is strained and you feel his tears.

"They're fine, my love," you promise.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know what I did. I was going good and then I was upside down." His voice shakes and cracks and he's trembling, one hand fisting in your shirt. You reach for the other.

"Shh shh... It's okay my love," you whisper, your tears finally spilling when he guides your hand up, holding it to his cheek as he lets out a shaky breath. "Everyone's okay, you're okay."

His eyes meet yours and your world rights itself.

[nanowrimo]

5 Tips for Building a Sustainable Writing Practice

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. First Draft Pro, a 2023 Camp NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a great writing app—whether you’re writing solo or with a co-author. Here are a few tips for building a sustainable writing practice, brought to you by author Ariana Brown and First Draft Pro.

We’ve all heard the advice to “write every day,” as if it were that easy! Translation: suck it up, no one cares if you’re tired. But what if there was another way to get writing done, without being unkind to yourself? 

Hi, I’m Ariana Brown, and I teach writers how to create a writing practice that is sustainable, flexible, and fulfilling. Most of my students are chronically ill, disabled, neurodivergent, or simply exhausted from the daily stresses of life. I know writing isn’t your only responsibility—capitalism makes sure of that! But I strongly believe that writing should be an enjoyable activity you look forward to.

Below I’ve compiled my top tips for exhausted writers who want to be kinder to themselves—and still get the work done.

1. Add pleasure to your writing routine.

Sensory pleasures are neither frivolous nor are they only for children. They’re a crucial part of being alive! They give us something to look forward to when times are tough and we need motivation. Candles, soft blankets, cold beverages, mood lighting, dance breaks, yummy treats—whatever you choose, make sure it’s something you love. Paint your nails a fun color so you have something beautiful to look at while you’re typing away. Make a playlist of your favorite songs and after you finish a chapter, blast one song so loudly you have to get up and dance. Then, get back to writing. Remember, even for the most focused among us, pleasure is a better motivator than shame.

2. Be clear about your intentions.

What brought you to writing in the first place? For some, it was the ability to escape into our imaginations. For others, it was the chance to finally express what we’d been holding inside. Identify your reason for writing, then ask yourself: Am I still enjoying this? Do I still feel connected to my reason for writing? If not, explore how you can strengthen your connection to your inner child’s reason for writing. 

3. Work with your brain, not against it.

If we know that everyone’s brain works differently, why do we force strict discipline and linear processes on ourselves? My advice: find or create a writing process that works for you. Maybe you love outlines; maybe you prefer to see where the words take you. Either way, make space for wandering, play, and discovery as you write. Take brain breaks. Doodle, map, dance, and draw when you get distracted. Body double with other writers, try new exercises and prompts to make the writing sing, and take plenty of breaks to stretch your body and talk to friends. We come to writing with our whole selves. Listen to your body, don’t shut it off.

4. Find a writing community.

You don’t have to wait for a community to come to you! I offer co-writing sessions on Zoom four times a month for my Patreon supporters, but do what works for you. Attend local open mics as an audience member and cheer on your peers. Invite your best friends to your living room once a month for a two hour writing/crafting session. Or check your local library and bookstores for free workshops and author events. You don’t have to do this work alone.

5. Develop a gratitude practice.

Finishing your draft is a huge accomplishment, but it’s not the only milestone to be celebrated. Consider creating opportunities to thank yourself throughout your writing practice. You’re doing an amazing and difficult thing. The fact that you keep showing up is worthy of celebration. Whether you decide to journal, rest, pray, meditate, or reward yourself, a little gratitude goes a long way.

Ariana Brown is a queer writer from San Antonio, TX, based in Houston. She is the author of We Are Owed (Grieveland, 2021) and Sana Sana (Game Over Books, 2020), and a national collegiate poetry slam champion. Ariana holds an MFA in Poetry, MS in Library and Information Science, and a BA in African Diaspora Studies and Mexican American Studies. She has been writing, teaching, and performing for over a decade. Follow her online @ArianaThePoet and www.arianabrown.com. 

[mythalism]

im normally not one to defend this asshole because a lot of the criticism of solas is great and valid but i need ppl to stop acting like solas is bringing down the veil to bring back arlathan because he believes it’s “better”.

solas does not romanticize or idealize arlathan. his goal of bringing down the veil has absolutely nothing to do with arlathan being morally superior to present thedas. most likely, his goal has nothing to do with restoring the empire of arlathan at all, and rather is about reversing the damage the veil did to his People- elves, maybe. spirits, more likely.

he is vocally critical of elvhenan as an empire on several occasions. he literally tells dorian not to romanticize it and compares its corruption and depravity to TEVINTER:

he also literally orchestrated a slave rebellion and threw a coup?????

he exhibits some nostalgia, maybe, for things like architectural marvels and of course the magic, but to act like solas ignores the reality of the political corruption of elvhenan and wears rose colored glasses, dreaming about ripping the veil apart and letting everyone die to create a perfect elven utopia just like the last one? it’s a major disservice to his character.

if i were to speculate, id guess that there’s far more to his motivations than we even know at this point, most likely (definitely) regarding the blight, considering how heavily implied it is that he created the veil to contain it, and that that also majorly plays into his need to bring down the veil regardless of the potential loss of life, but since it’s speculative ill can it for now.

regardless, the whole point is that it wasn’t perfect, elvhenan was deeply flawed, but it’s not about the empire, it’s about his People and his personal responsibility to atone for what he did to them. in trespasser he does not say he will bring back arlathan or elvhenan. he says “i will save the elvhen people”. whether you think he’s right or wrong isn’t really relevant (it’s relevant to your own playthrough and relationship to the narrative, of course, but not to the greater themes of the story), it’s not about right or wrong, or whether or not one society was more just or “better” than the other.

even a low-approval solas who HATES your inquisitor and tells a human inquisitor that they proved him right about their people being small-minded and crude will still approve when you help the refugees in the hinterlands and when you leave flowers at an old womans grave. he will still develop respect for cassandra, a friendship with varric. he still plays 4d mind chess with the iron bull to cheer him up. he will still tell blackwall that he will remember the people of the inquisition for their courage:

solas is not weighing thedas versus elvhenan on the metaphorical scales of justice and finding elvhenan worthier of existence, and destroying the other. he is a man who loved his people and in trying to save them, he made a mistake that doomed them, and feels he has to make it right, no matter the cost.

solas’s is not the story of a god making judgement calls on the worthiness of those beneath him, finding them lacking, and condemning them to death. it is a story of a man who has completely lost himself to the enormity of his guilt. it is a story of well-intentioned mistakes, of impossible choices and who has to shoulder them, of losing your personhood for a cause you believe in, of whether or not the ends justify the means, of accountability versus complacency, of progress versus stagnancy, of the role of violence in radical progress, of absolution of guilt, and of loneliness. right or wrong doesnt matter - he knows it's wrong and suggests the process will turn him into a monster. but its not about right or wrong, its about a man alone on an island, who can’t bring himself to surrender, who can't help but fight, knowing it all might end with him.

[powerofelvis]

𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader

Summary: It’s 1961 and Elvis is in California filming Wild In The Country, so he calls upon the woman who he could count on when he arrives. Being the only female member of the Memphis Mafia comes with perks, even you had to admit that. But, what happens when your boss who had once dubbed you “his little sister” wants something a bit more?

Word Count: 9.4K

Warnings: angst, Elvis is “seeing” Priscilla (although she’s still in Germany around this time period), reader being nosy and listening to an argument, fluff in different spots (if you squint), smut, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (he does not finish inside of her), slight yandere themes

A/N: Before I get into my little rant, this fic was only supposed to be a standalone. However, if I would have kept it all together, it would have probably been pretty damn long. So, this will be a two-parter and don’t worry, this will probably have a happy ending for Elvis and the reader. Maybe. So, this fic came out of the blue and from the recommendation of @headfullofpresley, it obviously needed to see the light of day. I’m also revamping my taglist, so if you want to be added, please let me know.

masterlist.

Everyone knew about the Memphis Mafia, including you. If you were living in the same age as Elvis, you knew about his circle of friends who he dubbed worthy enough to be around him all of the time. 

You just never knew that you would find yourself among those lucky enough to gain his trust. 

Until the day that you came into contact with him at a stop light in the middle of Santa Monica Boulevard. At first, you thought that maybe he was trying to flirt with you and while you found him attractive, you weren’t interested in becoming one of his latest flames. 

He liked that about you. He liked how you weren’t throwing yourself at him or wanting to spend one night alone with him to experience his rumored expertise of mind-blowing sex. In fact, you made it known that you wanted nothing more than a platonic relationship where he would trust you to fix his hair up whenever his personal hairdresser, Larry Gellar was out of commission. 

This is the beginning of your relationship with Elvis, eventually gaining his trust and confidence that he made you the only female member of his circle of friends. At first, the group of men who he hung around weren’t convinced that opening up their friend circle to a woman was ideal but eventually, they grew to love you just as much as Elvis did. 

You were seen as a little sister that Elvis never had, becoming the woman that he could confide in and you would do the same. Whenever he was in Hollywood to film another movie, you would come out to meet with him and the guys, causing trouble and messing around with them like they were your older brothers. 

It was memorable for you, but you also didn’t know just how memorable it had become to Elvis. 

Elvis had phoned you a few days before he was set to arrive back in California as he was set to begin filming Wild In The Country. He told you that Larry wasn’t able to come along with him this time around because he had become ill and asked if you could fill in for him as his roots were beginning to grow back into his natural hair color. “Yeah, I’ll be here when you arrive, E. Just tell me when you want me to dye your hair,” 

You didn’t hear from him again for a while until he called you late at night to come over to his Bel-Air home because whenever he wanted something done, it didn’t matter what time of night, he wanted it done. 

You arrived at his Perugia home, immediately being greeted by Joe and Jerry as soon as you walked over the threshold. You asked them to help you gather up your things and you set off to find Elvis. “Elvis? Where are you?” 

You walked down the long hallway, immediately seeing Elvis coming out of the bathroom without his shirt. He was laughing the entire time, knowing that you would tease him about going without a shirt, revealing his ‘bird chest’ as you would always call it. 

“Y/N?” His southern drawl was deep and raspy as usual, but there was a hint of playfulness that he always displayed when he was talking to you. 

Elvis knew that you didn’t have a problem with seeing him without a shirt. You were his little sister after all, so he didn’t have a problem with being his usual self around you even if it wasn’t how he would present himself to others who weren’t in his circle of friends. 

You snorted as you took him in, rolling your eyes as you sat the supplies down on the bathroom counter. “You know we have to be on set early in the morning and here you are goofin’ around,” 

You turned him around to face the large bathroom mirror that sat in front of you, pushing him to sit down in the chair in front of you. You grabbed the towel that was in his hands before you draped it around his shoulders, your eyes never leaving his laughing expression that was on his face. 

“Y’know, all of the ladies here in California think I’m crazy for lettin’ ya do my hair,” Elvis laughed, his gaze still on you as he stared into the mirror. 

“But, I know that you know what you’re doin’,” 

“It’s only because they are jealous that they aren’t able to do it,” You replied, turning your nose up at the repugnant aroma of the chemicals coming from the hair dye that you opened. 

You enjoyed moments like this with Elvis. Being the only woman in his circle of friends, you would often find yourself in his company. Whether you were fixing his hair the way that he liked or keeping the boys in line, your relationship with Elvis was very special to you. 

“I appreciate that you trust me enough to fix up your hair. I know it’s one of your best features,” You teased him, pressing your tongue into your cheek. 

Elvis nodded his head and shut his eyes as you got to work. In his eyes, you were just as important to him and he knew he was to you. Being the only female in the Memphis Mafia meant that you had a closer relationship with Elvis. It was always known that Elvis felt much more comfortable having girls around than men. Even though he was close to his male friends, he still felt a connection with you. 

He loved the guys to death, but you were different. You were practically his little sister. 

“I trust you with my life, Y/N,” He laughed. 

“And with my looks, obviously,” 

You felt flattered that he trusted you with his life. You basically trusted him with yours in return. You knew that being the only female in his circle of friends made your relationship sacred, but you also took your role very seriously. “I trust you with my life too, Elvis. And, you should trust me with your looks. Who else is gonna make you look this good, huh?” 

You gently wiped away some of the dye that dripped down his neck before it had begun to sting. Elvis laughed at this, knowing that some of the guys often teased him because a woman would do his hair and sometimes his makeup for his films. He didn’t mind being the butt of their jokes, though. He was their boss, after all. What else could they say about him? 

As you continued to apply the dye on the roots of his hair, he sighed happily. “Red’s got his tail up with me right now, ya know.” 

You finished setting the dye up in his hair, stepping around him to wash your hands before turning around to face him. Red West was one of his closest friends, even you knew that. His relationship with Elvis was solid, but you weren’t always surprised when he and Elvis had a falling out. You raised an eyebrow before you figured you would ask. “What for?”

He rolled his eyes before leaning back in the chair he was sitting in, his cerulean hues meeting yours through the bathroom mirror. “What else ya think he has his panties in a twist for?” 

Elvis couldn’t help but laugh, his deep laughter roaring throughout the bathroom. Red made it seem as if he was upset that Elvis invited you over to do his hair, and he knew that Red was probably still mad about it, but he thought that his boss had a thing for you. “He’s thinkin’ that you and I have a thing going on,” 

You were confused only for a moment, thinking of all of the possibilities that Red thought up before you laughed softly. You knew the exact reason why he was upset. It was common knowledge among the men that Red had a crush on you. However, you didn’t feel the same. How could you? The red headed man was due to marry Pat, one of Elvis’ secretaries, in the upcoming months. 

“Well, I know why he’s acting that way. It’s because he’s the one who has a thing for me but isn’t he fixin’ to marry Pat? I’m not into him and even if I was, I don’t wanna hurt Pat, you know? She’s a real nice girl,” 

You leaned back against the counter, rolling your eyes at his audacity. He had a woman who loved him and wanted to be committed to him and he was catching feelings for another woman. You caught Elvis’ knowing gaze, chuckling softly before you raised a brow. “And how does he know that we don’t have a thing going on?” 

This was another reason why you and Elvis had an admirable relationship. You both liked to tease each other, never crossing the line as you knew that he was seeing another woman, Priscilla. She wasn’t around at this time, still back in Germany but you knew how serious he was about her—often finding yourself listening in on their conversations over the phone or catching him reading a letter that she had written. 

He wouldn’t get upset with you for snooping, though. Elvis laughed at your words, leaning in closely, his voice dangerously low. “Y/N…” 

You figured he would scold you, but it was the opposite. He took in your smile because your smile always made him happy. Your attitude towards Red and Pat’s relationship made him return your smile because he knew you were right. Pat was a lovely woman. 

“You know that you’ve gone and broken that boy’s heart, right? I’m surprised he still works for me,” 

You shrugged your shoulders, brushing off his words. It didn’t matter how Red felt about you, you weren’t the type of woman to get involved with a man who is in a relationship. It wasn’t your style. Elvis knew this, which is why he was adamant about you becoming a member of the Memphis Mafia. 

“He’s about to marry this woman but he’s talking about calling it off to marry me instead. I’m not going for that, E.” You started before you took a long pause of silence. 

Red wouldn’t leave Elvis. You knew this to be true because Elvis was a generous man. He gives everyone anything they could ever ask for. Red was no exception. “Besides, I don’t think he would ever leave your side. You pay him good money and you give the man anything he could ever want. He would be a fool to quit on you,” 

“That’s a good point, honey,” Elvis laughed as he moved closer until he was face-to-face with you. “He definitely would be a fool to quit on me,” 

Elvis took a slight pause before he continued talking to you. “You know that they think I’m crazy for keepin’ ya ‘round all of the time, too, don’tcha?” 

“I’ve heard,” You retorted, crossing your arms across your chest. 

You knew that although you got along with the boys and they enjoyed your company on the majority of occasions, men never wanted to share their friendships with women. You knew that in the beginning that they were weary about your blossoming friendship with Elvis and how close the two of you would eventually become. 

“It’s only because they are used to only having nothing but men around. But you have every right to add whoever you want to the group, we all work for you,” 

Elvis nodded his head, his face still close to you as he thought about what you said. You were right on both accounts. The Memphis Mafia had been strictly men since the very beginning, but he thought it would be fitting to have a woman’s touch. “You’re right, honey. You’re more than welcomed in the Mafia, no matter what they are sayin’,” 

He chuckled under his breath before he leaned back once again, his mischievous eyes locked in on you. “And you shouldn’t be listenin’ to these fools. There’s nothin’ going on between us and they know that,” 

“I could care less if they thought there was something going on or not. It’s not really their business, is it?” 

You knew that the guys were close and that they knew everything that happened in Elvis’ life, but Elvis never liked them being involved with his relationships with women. He was a very jealous man. “I’m not interested in Red. End of story. So, he should just go along with marrying Pat and put whatever he thinks will happen between me and him to rest,” 

Elvis couldn’t help but laugh at your expression. He knew that you only thought that Red was the only member of the group who had these feelings, but the truth was that a lot of the guys shared the same sentiment. You were beautiful, funny, and could keep up with the guys when it came to humor. You were never afraid to tease them right back. 

They would never act on their feelings, though. They wouldn’t betray Elvis’ trust like that, knowing how he treated you as family. Elvis took the time to search your face as he noticed that you were deep in thought. 

He snapped his fingers in front of your face, making you jump back in surprise. His deep laugh boomed through the bathroom, blue eyes squinted as he noticed how frightened you were. “Let’s finish up. I’ve got some work to do later, remember?” 

You and him sat in silence for the remainder of the time, occasionally catching his eyes watching you through the bathroom mirror. As you finished up his hair, his roots were now better than before. The dark locks shined under the bathroom light as you dried his hair before you stepped back. His eyes followed your movements as you cleaned up the mess that you made, packing everything up before you noticed that it was surely late from the moonlight shining through the window. 

“It’s late, I guess I should go,” You sighed, picking up your hairdresser bag. “I’ll see you in the morning, Elvis?” 

He stood up from his seat quickly as if he was trying to stop you from leaving. He gave you a sheepish smile, placing his hands on your shoulders before turning your frame to face him. His eyes held a slight look of sadness and something you knew all too well, loneliness. Elvis knew that it was a stretch asking for this, but he enjoyed your company too much to allow you to leave. 

“Is there anythin’ I could do to make ya stay tonight? It’s late a-and I don’t think a woman like you should be on the roads this time of night. It’s dangerous, you know?” 

You stared at him in silence for only a moment before a soft laugh passed your lips. You appreciated his generosity, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome. You had never stayed overnight with Elvis, it was something that didn’t seem proper and you knew that the guys would surely think something was going on between you and Elvis. 

“Elvis, that wouldn’t be proper of me to stay here tonight. As much as I appreciate your invitation, I have to get home,” It was as if your words slapped him in the face because his eyes darkened. 

The loneliness in his eyes cried out to you, begging for you to stay. However, Elvis didn’t say a word as he released his grip on your shoulders before turning away from you. “I know, but…”

But what? 

Elvis knew how this would end. It always ended the same way, with you leaving to head home and him retreating to his room, alone. Although he was surrounded by people daily, he could never shake the loneliness that he always felt. He wasn’t sure if it stemmed from the loss of his beloved mother before his stint in Germany or because he could never tell if people loved him for himself. You were the only person in his life that he felt loved him as a person. 

Not as Elvis Presley, the entertainer. 

He sighed before he turned back to face you, a somber expression on his face. “Forget it, I’ll see ya in the mornin’. Drive safely, Y/N,” 

Elvis didn’t spare another glance in your direction as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the floor. You watched as he walked away from you, your heart sinking into your stomach. You placed your hairdresser bag back on the counter before you put your hand up to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. You didn’t know why, but you decided at that moment to stay. 

It couldn’t hurt, right? 

You pushed away the nagging voice of your conscience that was telling you that this was unacceptable. You couldn’t possibly stay the night here with him, but then you realized that the only reason you were so weary was because some of the guys were also here, scattered in different rooms on the property. 

Luckily for you, the guys had already turned into bed so you wouldn’t risk the possibility of running into any of them when you should have been long gone. You stood in the bathroom for what seemed like hours until you decided that you would let Elvis know that you would stay. You just hoped that you didn’t make the wrong decision. 

Your feet carried you out of the bathroom, eyes immediately narrowing in on his bedroom door and the light that was coming from the bottom of the closed door. Elvis never could sleep, often being the last to go to bed as his insomnia got the best of him. The feeling of guilt filled you as you slowly crossed the floorboards of the house before you stopped in front of his door. 

A gust of air filled your lungs as you slowly raised your fist to gently knock on his bedroom door before you cracked the door slightly to announce your presence to him. “Elvis?” 

Elvis was laying on his back in his bed, eyes trained to the ceiling as his mind raced with thoughts. “Damnit, Jerry, I thought I told ya that I don’t want to be disturbed,” 

You stepped back a little, clearing your throat before you spoke again. “I’m not Jerry. It’s me,” 

He sat up in the bed a little, holding himself up on his elbow before his eyes fell on your frame standing at the door. “Y/N, what are ya still doin’ here? I thought you had to go home?” 

Elvis scooted over to make room for you on his bed, if you wanted to sit with him. You silently stepped over the threshold before shutting the door quietly. The last thing you needed was Jerry or even Red to see you in Elvis’ room. You weren’t sure why you were going through with this, but from the look in his eyes, you knew that he was lonely. 

You never liked seeing him upset or even lonely for that matter, so as you crossed the bedroom floor, you were filled with a purpose of keeping him company. You kicked off your shoes before climbing into the bed with him, sitting on your knees as you faced him. “I felt bad for leaving you alone tonight,” 

His eyes showed a glint of confusion but he kept quiet as he knew you had more to say. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on your thighs before continuing. “I know you wanted me to stay here with you. I just don’t think it’s proper, but I also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. After all, nothing good ever comes out of a woman staying in a house full of men overnight,” 

“But I’m here to keep you company only for tonight, if you still want me to?” You spoke softly, taking in the way that his eyes lit up with each word that passed your lips. 

“Of course I want ya here, Y/N. You’re my best friend, I’d never want you to go, you know that,” He smiled softly before opening his arms for you to come closer. “C’mere,” 

It wasn’t unusual for you to cuddle with him, at least platonically. There were different times where Elvis wanted to be affectionate but he also wanted affection in return. You scooted close to him before wrapping your arms around his torso, placing your head on his shoulder as he held you tightly. “I know, Elvis. But, I’m here now,” 

Elvis didn’t know why he was feeling this way, like holding you in his arms was the closest he would get to Heaven. You were his little sister, his best friend, a devoted member of the Memphis Mafia. He didn’t know why he didn’t want to sleep now, wanting to soak up every second with you. 

“I don’t know why, but it’s always so peaceful with ya here, Y/N,” He spoke as his hand caressed your hair gently. 

This was the norm, so you couldn’t have possibly known there was an underlying reason for him asking you to stay. Until the next words passing his lips made your breath catch in your throat. “I wish you could stay here with me every night, darlin’,” 

You pulled your head back into your neck to look at him, your facial expression showing confusion. You decided to play along with him, thinking that he was teasing you again. 

“Is that what you want, E? I can always sneak up here when the guys are sleeping and keep you company?” You playfully retorted, a teasing smile on your face. 

Elvis chuckled. The thought of you staying in his room every night on nights like these, just to be in his company made him feel at ease. He looked down at you, a sigh leaving his lips. His eyes lingered down to your lips only for a second before his eyes moved back up to meet your expectant eyes. 

He couldn’t help himself. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss those soft lips of yours until he couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t want to ruin everything by forcing you into a situation that you didn’t want to be in. He had Priscilla, and although she was across the world, he had promised her that he would wait for her. He made promises that she would come to Memphis when he finished filming, but here he was, wanting to kiss his best friend. 

He didn’t respond to you for a while, the silence deafening as he stared deep into your eyes. Then, Priscilla crossed his mind once again and he pulled himself back into reality. “You know what? Get some sleep, darlin’, I’ll stay up for a while,” 

Elvis assumed that you would take his suggestion, leaving him alone once again with his misguided thoughts. However, you weren’t planning on making things easier for him than he thought. “I’m not really tired, Elvis. I swear I think we have the same sleeping habits,” 

His lips pulled into a tight smile, his eyes meeting yours again and it felt as if the world was crashing down around him. He knew that you were always this beautiful, but something was different this time around. The way your hair fell into your eyes, your plump lips parted slightly, and the way your dress accentuated your curves made the walls of his chest cave in. 

Elvis knew that he was playing with fire and it wouldn’t be long before he was burned. You kept your eyes on his before you repeated yourself again. “If this is what you want, I’ll keep you company every single night,” 

His blues darkened as his breath hitched in his chest. A deep laugh forced its way from the back of his throat as he scooted himself back into a seated position. His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head up so he could see you better in the dimmed room. “I want you to stay every single night. But darlin’, if you are plannin’ on staying in my room tonight, that means…”

Your heart flipped in your chest as his calloused fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his seemingly endless eyes. The air grew still around you as it became harder to breathe. What was he doing? 

“That means what?” You found yourself asking, wanting to know just what was the purpose of his words. 

Elvis laughed once again when he heard your question. Your eyes were wondering what he could possibly want. He sucked in a breath as he leaned in closer to you, his hand that was once gripping your chin moved up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. You looked so breathtaking to him, his heart racing like crazy in his chest. 

“You know what I mean, darlin’,” His voice was soft as satin as his eyes continued staring deeply into your soul.

It was then that Elvis realized the reason why he would look at you longer than usual. The reason he would find himself angry when the guys would flirt with you, especially Red. Elvis liked you. He liked you since that moment at the stop light when you made it evident that you weren’t looking to be another passing woman in his life. 

Elvis wasn’t sure if you knew how he felt, but with your next question, maybe he was easier to read than he thought. “How long have you wanted to do this, Elvis?” Your voice shook with uncertainty. 

His eyes continued searching yours, your face flushed as he saw his own thoughts confirmed. You had always known what he felt for you, even when he didn’t know it. You wouldn’t admit it, but that was okay because he knew. “Since the first time I laid eyes on you, darlin’,” 

He took a deep breath and scooted closer to you, pushing himself further into the moment. He wanted to kiss you tonight. No more hesitation. 

Your thoughts run back to the day that you met Elvis in Santa Monica. You were trying to get to work at the salon and he almost made you late because he was so adamant about you coming to work for him instead. You always wondered why he was so interested in you, knowing that he could have any woman that tickled his fancy. Now you know why. 

“Is this why you were so adamant about me working for you? I thought you saw me as your little sister? Now, you like me?” You asked him incredulously. 

His eyes softened at your accusations as he slightly tilted his head to the side. Your fiery personality only made him want to kiss you more than he ever had before. It was only a few more inches and he would be able to feel the softness of your lips that plagued his mind for so long. “Oh darlin’, you know that ain’t true,” 

A nervous laugh left his lips as he took hold of your hand, rubbing his calloused thumb over the padding of your knuckles. “Yes, I’ve had feelin’s for ya a lot longer than you realized. Even seein’ Cilla now, it was always you that I thought of. My eyes were always on ya,” 

Your breath hitched at the mention of Priscilla. While you have never met her and vice versa, you know your stance about being with a man who has a woman waiting on them. “So, you only saw me as a little sister because of her? Does—Does she know about your feelings about me?” 

He was taken back by your words, quickly hiding his expression by plastering a small smile on his face. He knew that it sounded like a bad thing, with him having feelings for another woman when Priscilla was waiting for him on the other side of the world, but the man couldn’t help himself. He had to have you. 

“She doesn’t, but does it really matter?” He spoke firmly, holding his hand up to stop you from speaking before he continued. “It’s not like I’m serious with her. She’s just the girl that the papers claimed got away when I was the one who left. She’s a young girl, I couldn’t wait around for her,” 

Elvis knew that his words made him seem like a terrible person but he knew that long distance would never work for him, which is why it didn’t work out for him and Anita like he had hoped. He didn’t want that to happen again and he wouldn’t let it happen, especially not with you. “I know how it makes me sound, but darlin’, believe me when I say that things are different with me and you,” 

You stared at him with wide eyes, your heart beating against your ribcage. You were blindsided, but you knew that Elvis wasn’t exactly the faithful type. “Now I need to know darlin’, do ya feel the same?” 

A moment of hesitancy passed through your body before you nodded once. Since you’ve been around Elvis, you found yourself wanting to be around him more than before. Elvis smiled at your revelation, taking your hands into his before his head tilted down to meet your gaze. 

“Then why didn’t ya act on these feelings, baby?” Elvis asked, wanting to know where your heart was. 

“Because of Priscilla, E. I was more than happy to be your best friend because you seemed so happy to finally find the girl who made you the happiest,” 

Elvis understood. He knew that you weren’t the type of woman to make moves on someone who was unavailable. You didn’t act on your feelings because of his situation with Priscilla and while he respected you for it, he knew that he couldn’t continue to go on and let you slip from his grasp. He gave you a smile as he scooted closer, tilting your head up once more. 

“Let me make ya happy, darlin’,” 

“How are you going to do that, Elvis?” 

His lips curved into another smile as he leaned in closer, his face only a few inches away. He had wanted this for so long and finally, he was going to make it happen. “This,” He whispered, his eyes on yours. 

Then, his lips found yours. His hand immediately gripped the back of your head, pulling you closer. His lips molded with yours as he kissed you deeply and for only a moment, nothing else mattered. You groaned as your eyes were wide for only a moment before they fluttered shut. Your hands moved up to grip his arms as he pulled you in. 

Your heart was pounding like bingos, body buzzing from the feeling of his soft and pillowy lips on yours. Your body jumped as you felt his tongue sliding into your mouth as he kissed you with fierceness. Elvis felt his entire body buzzing with excitement as the two of you shared the kiss of a lifetime. 

Elvis knew that everything that he felt for you was right there in this one kiss and he knew that he never wanted it to end. He didn’t care that they were in his bed lip locked anymore, he didn’t care if someone walked in on them. He could keep this going for the rest of the night for all he cared. His hand moved under the hem of your dress, grabbing your thigh gently as he pulled you even closer. 

He smiled against your lips as he heard your cute little gasp from the feeling of his hand gripping the supple flesh of your thigh. The sound of you muttering his name against his lips drove him nearly insane as his thumb rubbed circles on your skin. He groaned as you pulled away as if you were burned, your lips gently tugging at his bottom lip as your eyes fluttered open. 

His cock stirred in his pajama pants as he cleared his throat. He was beyond words at this point, never wanting to feel anything else other than what he was feeling in this moment. He finally had you in his arms, just like he wanted. His chest heaved as he looked into your eyes, his heart racing once again. “I don’t know why you waited so long to tell me how you were feelin’,” 

“You already know why I waited, Elvis. I have more respect for myself than to break up a happy home. I can’t bring myself to ruin what you and Priscilla have, it’s not right. This isn’t right,” You were beginning to regret coming up to his room now. 

“If I wanted to be with you, I wanted to wait until you were not exclusive with anyone. It’s not right to do that to Priscilla. Not right to you, and certainly not to me,” 

Elvis took in your words, knowing that you were looking out for your best interests and his as well. He couldn’t deny that you cared more for him than anyone else in his life and he would never forget it. “I get it, darlin’, I really do. But, what if I told ya that I don’t want to be with Priscilla anymore? That all I want is you,” 

“You don’t mean that, E. You’re just saying this because of the moment, right?” You were denying the obvious. 

Elvis wrapped his hands around your arms, pulling you so close that you could feel his heart beating against your chest. “I’m bein’ serious, honey. I’m swearin’ off Cilla and that’s the end of it,” 

You didn’t know Priscilla and while you knew you should feel sorry that he was talking about leaving her, you couldn’t hide the reality that you were overjoyed at the revelation. You were a hypocrite. You didn’t want Red to leave Pat to be with you and now you were hearing Elvis talk about leaving his woman for you. You sighed as you met his eyes, speaking words that you would otherwise slap yourself for. 

“If you don’t want to be with her anymore, I’ll be here once you end things with her. Until then, this can’t happen anymore. This—Us, we can’t do this. It’s not fair to her, E. You know that, right?” 

He nodded as he knew that he would have to make the hard decision to break things off with Priscilla. However, he didn’t want to be just friends with you anymore. He couldn’t deny the connection that he felt towards you, the thought of only being friends was now more painful than ever. “I know, darlin’,” 

You scooted away from him, keeping your eyes on him as you took in another breath. “Maybe we should go to sleep now. You still have to be on the set tomorrow morning and you know how you are when you don’t get enough sleep,” 

Elvis laughed softly before taking your hand in his, kissing the back of your hand before nodding. “Alright, baby, you win this round. I’m goin’,” 

Elvis didn’t stay awake for long, his arms holding you tightly as if you would disappear from his arms. You, however, stayed awake. Your mind was reeling from the night’s events and how you had hoped that things didn’t change between you and Elvis. 

The following day, Elvis didn’t wake you. He didn’t want to leave you, either. But, duty called and he had no choice but to answer. He figured that you needed the rest and as much as he wanted to lie in bed with you, kissing you until you were blue in the face, he had to head to set. 

You didn’t wake up until later on into the afternoon, knowing that Elvis would return shortly after. You sat in his bed, contemplating whether you were ready to show your face to the world. As you sat in your thoughts, you heard Elvis speaking harshly under his breath. It sounded like he was on the phone with someone, but your suspicions were confirmed when you heard the name that you thought about as he laid next to you, snoring softly the previous night. 

Priscilla…

“Goddamnit, Cilla. Y/N is staying and that’s final, ya hear?” His voice shook with fury from behind the door. 

You couldn’t hear what she was saying, but you knew it had to be about you. You knew that you made a mistake staying here, falling into his web of affection. Now, he was fighting with the woman that he was seeing and you were the topic of that conversation. 

“I don’t give a damn ‘bout how ya feel, honey. She’s a member of my goddamn mafia and if I say she ain’t goin’ anywhere, she’s not goin’,” Elvis’ voice raised more, making your heart jump in your chest at his rage. 

You knew how Elvis’ temper was. He didn’t show it often, but when he didn’t get what he wanted, it reared its head like a ravenous beast in search of its next meal. 

The next words that passed his lips surprised you, his voice becoming soft as silk. “Honey, don’t cry. P-please don’t cry, I just can’t get rid of Y/N. She means a lot to me, Cilla. I—,” 

He? You stood from the bed before slowly making your way to the closed bedroom door that separated you from him, pressing your ear to the door as you wanted to hear what he would say next. You could hear faint crying from the other side, a sigh passing Elvis’ lips as he tried to console the younger woman. 

“She’s not goin’ anywhere, Cilla. I don’t want to hear another word about it, honey. Now listen, I have’ta go.. No, ‘m not mad at ya, honey. I’ll call you later,” You heard the sound of the phone hanging up before a string of profanities left his lips. 

You pushed the door open, catching him by surprise as your eyes fell on him. You couldn’t deny how your heart flipped in your chest at the sight of him. His hair was tousled from what you assumed was from his fingers angrily running through his dark locks. His lips were curled into a snarl, an angry look on his face as he looked back at you. 

“Everything alright, E?” You asked softly, afraid to push him further. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, darlin’,” He sighed as he stepped towards you, his hands on his hips. “That little girl is just doin’ my goddamn head in about ya,” 

You pressed your lips together to keep your words in as you knew that this would happen. You knew that Priscilla would be hurt in the end and yet, you found yourself becoming pulled further in the dark hole known as Elvis’ world. He sighed as he took in your expression, stepping forward more before his hands snaked around your waist. 

“Don’t you worry your little head none, honey. You’re not goin’ nowhere and she don’t have the power to change my mind,” He reassured you, his blue eyes moving along your body, his plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

You couldn’t find it in yourself to fight him. Your mind clouded with desire as he stared at you with hunger in his eyes. “Why don’t ya head on home? I need to be alone for a while, but I’m expectin’ ya to be back in my bed tonight, darlin’,” 

A firm nod of your head was all you could muster, slipping out of his embrace as you walked past him. You made your way down the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief that the guys weren’t in your line of sight. You forgot to grab your hairdressing bag, making a beeline for the front door with your keys in hand. 

You spent the remainder of the day thinking of excuses to get out of returning to that suffocating house on Perugia Way, but the thought of being away from Elvis weighed heavily on your mind. It weighed you down so much that you weren’t even sure when you arrived back in front of his home so late at night. 

The door was unlocked. Elvis must’ve told one of the boys to keep it unlocked but you didn’t know the excuse he came up with. You found yourself standing in the foyer of his home, a pink babydoll nightie adorning your body. Your feet slowly carried you towards the familiar path towards his bedroom door. 

The dimmed lighting of his room taunted you from under the door as you took a breath, talking yourself through knocking on his door before pushing it open like you had done the previous night. “Elvis?” 

Elvis was sitting on the bed, dressed in his nightly pajamas with a book in his hand. His head snapped up to look in your direction, eyes darkening as his gaze hungrily lingered over your body. He found himself lost in the sight of you, realizing that you were indeed his dream girl. You were perfect to him in so many ways. 

“C’mere, baby,” His voice nearly growled towards you, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth once again. 

Once you silently shut the door behind you and crossed the floor until you were close enough, Elvis placed his large hands on your hips as he kissed you as hard as he could. He wanted you more than he could ever express and tonight, he would have you. Priscilla be damned. 

He broke away from the kiss, taking in your breathless beauty as he gazed into your eyes. The hunger was still there, but there was something else there too—Love. “I love ya, darlin’,” 

Your breath hitched in your throat from his forwardness. You didn’t know what to say, your mind reeling from the kiss and the way his hands squeezed your hips showing his dominance over you. You didn’t respond to him and he didn’t expect you to, his lustful gaze still lingering over you. 

Elvis hummed as he pulled you into the bed with him, your body laying over his lap as he held you in his arms. “I think this is how our nights should end like this from now on,” A smirk ghosted over his lips as his hands lingered down your sides, before resting on your thighs. 

“Let’s cuddle together, baby,” He whispered as he laid you down gently on the bed. 

Elvis didn’t waste time, pressing his lips against yours once again. His tongue slid into your mouth, his body partially covering yours as he had you pinned into the mattress beneath you. He couldn’t think straight, the desire for you filling him. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you all over, making you cum until you soaked his bedsheets. But then, he realized that he had to be careful. 

He knew that you didn’t want this to go any further until he was officially finished with Priscilla. He pulled away from the kiss, his finger placed against your swollen lips as he stared down at you. “Darlin’, I want you to be with me more than anythin’ in this world,” 

Your brow raised as you were confused about how his voice changed so suddenly. “I know you ain’t wantin’ to continue this further until I’m done with Cilla, honey. Don’t look at me like that,” 

It was wonderous how you found yourself back in his arms again, considering how you knew he was right. You didn’t want to continue until he was through with her, but it was as if he had you under a spell. “I know and I still stand by that,” 

Your conscience was lying. You were lying to him but most importantly, to yourself. Your heart sank into your stomach as you returned his gaze, his hand gently taking yours. “I know you understand, honey. I respect ya too much to allow you to be the other woman, so for now we have to settle on these late nights because I can’t get enough of ya,” 

You nodded your head as you returned his gaze, his darkened blue eyes staring into your soul with love. It was only silent for only a moment, before it was as if something else had switched between the two of you. His hand let go of yours as his calloused fingers gently ran down the sheer satin material of your nightie. 

“Just one time for me, please, darlin’. I know it sounds selfish, but I just want to feel ya, more than I’ve ever felt anyone in my life,” His lustful tone returned. 

Elvis could feel the excitement returning as his eyes lingered on your body. Nothing or nobody would stop him from getting what he wanted, not even you. You looked into his eyes as you were trying to understand what he was asking for, but from the desire dancing in his eyes, you knew. “Are—Are you sure you want to do this, Elvis?” 

“More than anything,” His eyes met yours once again as he wanted you to see just how much he wanted this. 

He didn’t waste any time, his lips meeting yours for the third time tonight. He couldn’t wait any longer, wanting to see you in all of your beauty and glory. He pushed you back down onto the bed, slowly peeling off his pajamas as his lips never left yours. His kisses were filled with love, more love than he had ever felt for anyone in his life. 

His fingers moved up your body, hooking under the straps of your nightie before he pushed them off of your shoulders. Your body shivered as you felt the straps falling down your shoulders to reveal your perky breasts to his line of sight. His eyes rolled into his head at the sight of your breasts, a grunt leaving his lips. He couldn’t believe that he had gone so long without seeing them, kissing them, or even touching them. 

“My lord, darlin’,” He whispered before he kissed you again, unable to think straight. 

“Do you like them?” You asked, a blush crossing your cheeks as your lips molded with his once more. 

“Like them? They are the prettiest set of breasts I’ve ever laid eyes on, baby,” 

His hands reached for your breasts, caressing them as he wanted to feel you entirely. You were just perfect in every way, he wanted to do more. His thumbs and index fingers tweaked your nipples, a deep moan leaving your lips before his lips peppered kisses along the supple flesh of your breasts. 

He was losing control. His hands immediately pulled your nightie off of your body, leaving you in your panties. You found yourself becoming more heated as time went on, your eyes hooded as you watched him remove your pink sheer nightie from your body. He tossed the material off of the bed, his lips finding your nipples as his tongue swirled around the perky buttons. 

Elvis was in ecstasy. The sight of you in front of him, naked, made his cock stir. His lips kissed down your body from his previous position near your breasts, leaving a wet trail down your belly as his tongue lapped down before he stopped at the waistband of your laced panties. His nose inhaled your arousal, humming under his breath as his eyes moved back up to meet yours. 

“Goddamn, baby, I bet that kitty is just weepin’ for me,” he whispered, his lips kissing over your mound through your now wet and sticky panties. 

He licked his lips as his fingers hooked into the band of your panties, slowly pulling them over your hips and down your legs, leaving a trail of wetness behind. “Look at her, just cryin’,” 

He laid on his stomach before you, his arms hooking under your thighs as he pulled you closer to his awaiting lips. Your ankles hung over his shoulders as he peppered kisses around your pelvic bone. He had contorted you in the position that he wanted, his fingers pulling your vulva lips apart as he watched you drip with arousal. 

“Fuck, you’re soakin’,” He growled before his tongue lapped through your lips. 

It took all of your strength not to scream at the top of your lungs as he seemed to make it his mission to devour you whole. His tongue continued pushing your slit open before twirling around your quivering clit. He moaned as his fingers pushed your slit apart, his index finger sinking to the hilt inside of you as his tongue seemed to have a mind of its own. 

“E-Elvis, oh my god—,” You softly cried, eyes shutting tightly as all of your emotions collided at once. 

“Relax, honey. Let me give you want your body is wantin’,” He whispered against your pussy, his fingers slowly pumping into you as his tongue flicked against your bud. 

You placed your fist against your mouth to keep your moans low, hips slowly rocking against his mouth. He chuckled as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on it as if his life depended upon bringing you the pleasure. His digit curved into you, pumping at full force as your wetness dripped out of you. Elvis had no issues with this, lapping up every drop to ensure none would escape his grasp. 

His lips moved away from your clit before replacing it with his thumb as he rubbed small circles on it. His finger found the spongey spot inside of you, pushing up against it firmly. It was as if the dam had broken inside of you as you yelped and writhed on the bed. 

“That’s it, baby. Take what ya need,” His raspy voice called out to you as his tongue returned to your slit, lapping up the juices that flowed from you. 

Your eyes crossed as you felt yourself inching closer to completion, your body jolting and jerking with such force as he continued fucking his finger against your spot. It was then that he wiggled his fingertip against the spongey spot inside of you that your vision went black, your name flowing from his lips as he made you cum as hard as he could. 

His lips were glistening with your arousal, pulling his finger out of you before lapping up the remaining of your cum that was plugged up by his digit. He plopped his finger into his mouth, licking it clean before removing it with a slight pop. His hands ran up your sides before he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand. His lips found yours once more, giving you a taste of yourself. 

Your mind was spinning from the aftermath of your climax, gripping his shoulders as you searched for more. He removed his lips from you before he laid down beside you, turning your body away from him until you laid on your side, your back facing him. Your eyes widened as you wondered what he had planned. Elvis’ eyes lingered down your beautiful back, admiring how your curves were perfect in every way. 

“I love ya, Y/N. You make me crazy, ya know that?” He whispered in your ear as he pulled you against his chest. 

“You want me in this position?” You whispered as you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder. 

You wrapped your arm around his neck, your fingers running through his hair as you sucked in a breath. He chuckled, eyes glistening with desire and passion as he nodded. “I want ya in every way, baby. Every angle of you is perfect,” 

Elvis lifted your leg before pushing the sheets away with his knee, revealing just how perfect your body was to him. Your curves, soft skin, your back, everything was perfect to him. He wanted to touch you everywhere, he couldn't wait anymore. His arm hooked under the bent of your knee, pulling you closer as he felt your ass press against him. “You comfortable, b-baby?” 

You nodded as you turned your head to look at him once again over your shoulder, eyes pleading with him to fill you. “I’m comfortable, Elvis.”

Elvis gripped his cock, pushing his foreskin back to reveal his leaking tip as he aligned himself at your entrance. He was driven to the point of no return, he knew he couldn’t take it slow anymore. He slowly pushed his cock inside of you, splitting you apart as every inch slowly sank inside of your weeping pussy. You gasped, gripping his hair as he entered you. “Oh god..” 

Elvis felt his eyes widened as he was finally in the place he wanted to be. His lips kissed at the back of your neck as his eyes continued looking towards you with desire. His hips moved slowly at first, giving you time to become acclimated as his hips pumped into you. He couldn’t continue like this, though, picking up the pace almost immediately. 

His other hand gripped the sheets as he felt your body against his. He moved his hips faster, wanting to give you a feeling that you would remember. His lips found your ear as he began whispering about all of the things he wanted to do with you. “You feel so goddamn good, darlin’, fuck,” 

You let out a tiny cry as words escaped you. The sound of their bodies connecting filled the room, causing you to tilt your head back to rest against his shoulder. His fingers dug into your thigh as your body jolted with pleasure. “I need ya to be mine, Y/N. To b-be my wife, the mother of my children. You’re so goddamn perfect, honey,” 

You were so filled with desire that his words didn’t register until you found yourself crying out your response. “Yes, I-I-I will be your wife, the mother of your children. Please, don’t stop,” 

You whined out as his hips continued snapping into you, his balls hitting your pussy as he ravished you in his bed. Elvis was satisfied with your response, moving his hand that was gripping the sheets to gently wrap around your throat. His teeth gritted together as he grunted and moaned deeply into your ear, his breath hot against it. “Then, say it again. Say you’ll be mine. Say it, say it now,” 

“I-I’m yours, Elvis. Fuck,” Your voice shook as you found yourself slowly slipping into oblivion. You felt your stomach tightening, giving you the hint that you were about to cum once again. 

“Good girl, cause I ain’t ever lettin’ ya go. You hear?” He chuckled deeply, almost sounding guttural as he continued stuffing you full with his cock. 

His hand released your throat and your leg before his hands gripped your hips, yanking you back harder against him. Elvis had finally staked his claim on you and it was now that he realized that no one else would take you from him—not Red, not the guys, nobody. You whimpered as you felt your back arch, your body shivering as you came hard for the second time tonight. He let out another guttural growl, his cock hitting you in places that you never felt before. 

You whimpered as overstimulation began to sink in, wanting to run away from him but his grip on your hips were nearly bruising as he plowed into you again and again. “I’m ‘bout to burst, baby. Oh fuck,” He growled as his hips picked up speed, the bed squeaking and rattling from his rapid thrusts. 

He grunted as he pulled out just in the nick of time, his warm and sticky cum coating your vulva lips and slit as his hips stuttered. “The next time we fuck, I ain’t pullin’ out of ya,” He breathlessly laughed as he fell back on the bed, pulling you into his arms. 

It was silent as the only sounds were of yours and Elvis’ breathing. “That was…that was,” 

“Perfect, just like you, honey,” He whispered as he pulled you into his arms. 

You didn’t respond, the weight of the situation now hitting you all at once. As Elvis laid beside you filled with happiness and bliss, you laid there with dread and uncertainty. You had just had sex with a man you considered to be your best friend, the man who pays you to work for him. But this same man has another woman who is on the other side of the world, wanting to be with him. 

What in the hell have you done? 

taglist:

@headfullofpresley @elvisabutler @ab4eva @lookingforrainbows @vintagepresley @missmaywemeetagain @dkayfixates @notstefaniepresley @literally-just-elvis-fics @crash-and-cure @elvissbabygirl @samfangirls @cryingabtab @flwrs4aust @thatbanditqueen @loving-elvis @oh-my-front-door @presleyenterprise @precious-little-scoundrel @ccab @elvisthesillygoose

[rhymeswithfart]

July is Disability Pride Month and BIPOC Mental Health Month! (I didn't realize the second one so I apologize for that)

More info under the cut:

It's impossible to fit the incredibly diverse range of the disabled community and experience into one image, but I think the phrase, "nothing about us, without us," rings true across the board. That all disabled people should have their agency and voice protected and respected. That we should all have our choice on how to live our lives and the accomodations we want and need to make it happen. That our voices should be at the forefront of any movement for our well-being.

I settled on a design of hands reaching/raised in celebration, so I focused on hand-related limb differences which I hopefully did justice. I also used a rainbow color scheme to represent an overlap from Lgbt+ pride month since there is overlap between our communities, but also, while the 'July is Gay Wrath Month' jokes are cool I guess, disabled people, especially disabled/mentally ill BIPOC, need support just as much as anyone else. I mean, seriously, disability rights isn't even talked about enough to have brands doing performative activism for it.

So let's try to make this a good month for these discussions. If you're not disabled, try to take a learning perspective, and send love to disabled and BIPOC creators. Happy pride, and remember: you are worthy. Never apologize for your existence.

[drivinmeinsane]

Snowstorm ※ 12 Days of Goosemas

Day Ten ※ Colt Seavers / Reader

{12 Days of Goosemas Masterlist} ※ {Regular Masterlist} ※ {ao3}

※ Summary: You and Colt discover that some gambles don't pay off.

※ Rating: No mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Cuddling for Warmth, Ill-advised Winter Safety Practices, Fluff/Humor

※ Word count: 1998

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

Despite your layers, you’re shivering enough that your teeth feel like they’re going to rattle right out of your skull. It’s hard to imagine that the weather is going to take a turn for the worse when it’s already cold enough in the warehouse that everyone’s breath is visible in front of their faces. This far north by the Great Lakes is always a gamble this time of year. This movie production is certainly not winning the lottery. 

“Alright crew, let's wrap this up,” calls the team lead. 

Everyone picks up speed, finishing their tasks so they can separate into pairs and small groups to carpool back to their temporary housing. Automatically, you gravitate towards Colt. The two of you have been working off and on together for years on various movie sets. Being around him comes as easily and naturally as breathing. It was a massive relief when you were assigned to share an airbnb for the couple months you’re going to be spending here. 

“This sucks, huh?” You comment, helping him to roll up an impact mat. 

He laughs, breath clouding the air. “Yeah, it super sucks.”

The rest of the crew files out while the two of you work, alternating between sweating and freezing. Securing all the impact mats for storage is a miserable task, but it gets done. The building is empty aside from Colt and you. 

The stunt guy straightens up, groaning as his back loudly pops. “Ready to bounce on outta here?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

At the door, the two of you take the time to adjust your layers. Colt wraps your scarf around your head teasingly after offering to help you put it on. You give him a scathing look between the layers of material before you break and the two of you start laughing. Colt is wiping at his eyes, still chuckling a little, when you shove the door open. 

The cold air immediately tears right through your clothes. The hollow thud and click of the door closing and locking behind you both sounds ominous. Colt offers his arm to you and you take it, resigning yourself to the weather conditions. The snow is coming down heavily, making it difficult to see across the sprawling parking. 

Your Lord of the Rings worthy journey to Colt’s truck starts out easily enough, until you wipe out on a snow-covered patch of ice. If it wasn’t for the death grip you have on each other's arms, you would bust your ass right then and there. Instead, you and Colt end up doing a weird dance to try to stay upright. 

“Maybe we should consider a career in couples ice skating. Maybe retire from the stunts biz.” Colt suggests, breathing heavily from the unexpected exertion.

“Toddler level, maybe,” you grumble back, foot skidding again. You hate the fact that the stunt crew has to park clear out of the way on the very fringes of the parking lot. 

You risk a glance at your coworker. His gaze is focused intently on the ground. Snowflakes are collecting in his beard and in his shaggy hair, making his blue eyes appear even bluer. After what feels like an age of taking minuscule steps across a frozen wasteland, you finally spot his garishly colored truck through the snow. You’ve never been happier to see the yellow and brown eyesore. 

Colt helps you up into the passenger seat. Once you're settled, he pushes his tuck keys into your hand. You pass him the windshield scraper in return. It was a new purchase after having to use the airbnb’s dustpan the first morning the two of you had walked out to the vehicle to find it under a thick layer of snow. 

“Start her for me?”

Mumbling an affirmative, you lean over and slot the key into the ignition switch and twist. The truck sparks to life with a smooth rumble. Meanwhile, Colt skirts around the edge of the vehicle. He’s scraping at the windshield, chiseling the packed snow in sheets. He suddenly slips, hitting his sternum on the truck’s grille guard. Upon seeing your horrified expression through the cleared glass, he flashes you a thumbs up and a grimace. You give him the same in return.

Working faster now, he finishes the windshield and makes sure that the side windows and mirrors are clear. He knocks the scraper clean before opening the door and heaving himself into the truck. The stunt man tosses it at your feet onto the already cluttered floorboard. The cold air that followed him into the cab does neither of you any favors.

“You think we’re good, Colt?” You ask, watching him pull off his gloves and tuck them into his sun visor for safekeeping.

“Hope so. If it doesn't get worse we should be fine,” he says with a shrug only to yelp when his bare hands come in contact with the steering wheel. “Shit, that’s cold!”

With the heat on full blast, Colt backs out of the parking lot and then you’re off to the airbnb. He handles the truck expertly. While not used to driving in what is essentially a blizzard, the man has done enough crazy stunts to keep from skidding all over the road. That and his monstrosity of a vehicle with its sizable off-roading tires makes the trip go a little easier. 

“Colt…” You say, worried. The weather is getting worse, much worse. The truck is struggling to maintain traction.

“Yeah, I know, sweetheart.” Both of you are so glued to the increasingly limited visibility and heavier snowfall that neither of you acknowledge the unintentional endearment Colt lets slip.

Spotting a ihop coming up, he makes the choice to pull into the empty lot. There’s no way he’s going to be able to push through. The weather is just too bad for his vehicle. The restaurant is clearly closed. This isn’t the southern part of the United States where there’s a Waffle House around to keep its doors open no matter the situation.

“There’s no way a tow truck is going to be able to get out here, is there?” You comment rhetorically. 

Beside you, Colt groans when he can’t get reception on his cell phone. “Looks like we’re going to be here until the plows come through. Might be in the morning.”

You sigh and settle into your seat. Both of your phone batteries are too low to risk running them down by idly scrolling through old saved pictures. It’s going to be a long night. 

To pass the time, you decide to lean over and rummage through the pile of trash and receipts on the floorboard. Like his apartment, he does not keep his truck clean or organized. You spend the next couple hours going through his receipts and judging him for his purchases. It’s mostly “Another Bonsai tree?” and “Just how much do you love this fast food place?” while your best friend does his damndest to defend himself as though he’s in front of an imaginary jury. 

Eventually, the light fades too much to see the small text. Colt has long since turned off the truck. As the sun dips below the horizon, it gets colder in the cab. 

You shiver and Colt notices. “C’mere.”

You slide across the bench seat and underneath his offered arm. He’s warm but the meager contact is too scant to do much. You seem to take turns shivering against one another. 

“It’s a shame we don’t have a tauntaun,” he says suddenly. 

You turn your face into the side of his chest to smother a groan at the reference. “I’d give anything for a hot drink right now.”

Colt makes a sound in agreement and slides down in his seat, struggling to get comfortable. His knee hits the steering wheel and you feel his pained exhale. “Yeah, I would too.”

A particularly vicious wind tears over the truck. It feels like it bypasses the layers of barely insulated metal entirely. The two of you clutch at each other in response. The lack of light isn’t helping it feel any warmer or cozier. Snow has entirely covered the windshield and the windows are fogged up from your breath and body heat. 

“I’ll turn on the truck for a sec to run the heater, but then I guess we oughta try to get some sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You don’t separate when Colt turns the key. The warm air is luxurious against your cold face. You nearly shove your fingers into the vent. He turns the truck off once you’re both sufficiently warmed. Now comes the difficult part, navigating where to put your bodies for sleep. The temperature has ruined any semblance of personal space. 

“Wanna be on top?” 

“If you insist on bottoming, stunt guy.”

“Oh, I always insist.”

Nearly hitting your head on the cab’s roof, you manage to shove yourself off of the bench seat enough for Colt to wedge himself into the short space. You can barely make out his shape. His hands find you and he guides you on top of himself. He hisses sharply and puts a hand over your kneecap when you graze it dangerously close to his crotch. 

“I don't have plans for kids any time soon, but I’d like to keep my options open,” he jokes.

Finally, you are settled on top of him. It’s incredibly uncomfortable for both of you. He’s got his knees drawn up, shins against the door. Your left knee is wedged between his hip and the seat as you lay with your cheek on his shoulder. His arms are up and around you. Yours are tucked alongside his torso with your hands under his shoulders. You feel like a pair of pretzels.

You lay in silence, listening to the winter storm outside. Both of you start to shiver again.

“I know it’s silly but-”

“This sucks so-” you accidentally start at the same time. “Go ahead,” you encourage. 

You hear him swallow. He seems stiff, nervous all of a sudden. “I know it’s silly, but uh… skin to skin contact works. With us both wearing jackets we can’t share body heat as well. So maybe if we… Wow, I promise I’m not trying to come onto you.”

“Okay.” You say gently.  

Sitting up in his lap, his hands fall from your back to the sides of your hips. You unzip your jacket. You’re instantly colder. Underneath you, you feel Colt’s breath hitch and pick up the pace. You put your hands on his amble chest and find his coat zipper and tug it down. His fingers twitch, but they don’t make any move to stop you. You push his shirt up over his pectorals, all the way to his neck. You don’t touch his bare skin with your fingers. His hands find the hem of your shirt and together you draw it up to your collarbone. Both of you are bared in the truck cabin. 

The man leaves you holding your shirt in place while his hands move to your back. He guides you into laying down on top of him. Your friend sucks in a breath and exhales slowly as inch by inch you make contact. Your bare skin colliding is sinfully warm. 

You sigh into his neck, resisting the urge to press a kiss against it even as the stubble of his jaw grazes your face. He pulls his jacket up and over you as much as he can. His hold on you is tight, comforting. The direct contact of his body provides much more heat than between the layers. You’re not as cold as you were before. 

“Heck of a holiday season, huh?” You mumble, already beginning to drift off.

Colt hums in agreement. Before you slip entirely under into the oblivion of sleep, you swear you feel a kiss pressed to your forehead and a low “Sweet dreams.” that rumbles against your chest.

[ashton-sano]

Food Wars! Shokugeki no Souma in: Having a Baker S/o

(Char. Involved: Sōma Yukihira, Akira Hayama, Erina Nakiri, Takumi Aldini)

Sōma Yukihira

-Same old Soma tbh

-Sees you as quite the worthy adversary whether or not you're better than he is

-Always the first one to try your dishes

“C’mon! Lemme have a taste, it looks so good!”

-Biggest supporter honestly 

-It doesn't make him any less likely to make you try his gross dishes though

“Oh don't be a scaredy cat, Just one bite!” 

-At least one food war per day honestly

      -Tiring, to say the least

-I'd like to think he has a sweet tooth so you being a baker is like heaven for him

“Everything is here. The cake is cooling in the fridge, The fondant is rolled and properly colored and the frosting is-'' I pause my listing as I realize the frosting isn't where I left it. “Huh?” Did I misplace it or something? “Could've sworn I left it right here.” I blink twice in an attempt to backtrack from when I had it. “Okay, so I remember grabbing the ingredients from the fridge, then setting them right here,” pointing to the counter as I pull a pout. “Then I brought out the stand mixer and began making it. Afterward, I turned away to put the mixer away but when I turned back I still remember seeing it.” I close my eyes in hopes that’ll jog my memory, “Then I ran to my room to get my molding knives and called Soma in to watch the Strawberry puree boiling.” Wait. I called Soma. “I came back and that's when I don't recall seeing it.” That bastard. “SOMA!” I yell throughout the dorm as I dash to his room in a fit of annoyance. As I made my way past several of my roommates, they each gave a fearful expression and made way for me to get by. I clutch the doorknob, slamming the door wide open as I catch the thief red-handed. He had the spoon halfway in his mouth as the frosting was mostly gone, eyes slightly dilating at my entrance. “Oh, Uh...Hey Y/n.” I glare at him, “Why are you eating my frosting.” He looks anywhere but my gaze as he lets out a nervous chuckle, “It looked good so I took a bit and then a bit turned into a spoonful, and well you see what happened.” I sigh, “Whatever, just know you’re making me dinner for the next month for that.” He smirks, “Why say that like it's a bad thing? I love making food for you, Y/n.” My heart warms at his sentiment, “Yeah yeah.” I make my way to close the door but stop just short to peek my head in, “However, do that again and I’ll make sure the only thing you can eat is frosting.” He drops his smile to replace it with worry at my threat, “Yes ma’am.” I close the door and shake my head, too touched to be truly mad. “He thought it was that good?” I let out a breathy laugh on my way back to the kitchen to remake it, “Stop making me want you to come back to steal my food you idiot.” 

Akira Hayama

-Very proud of you 

-However, he isn't very keen on showing it so you’ll have to be patient

-There are some things you add in that even he doesn't sniff out which is probably the only time he’ll get curious and ask about it

“Making something new? What crazy ingredient did you add this time, hm?”

-May act all mean but he is actually very excited when you come to let him try your food

         -Never call him out though, he’ll always deny it

- “This again? Still hard at work trying to perfect it, are you? Fine ill have a taste.”

-Don't let the facade fool you, he’d hate if you asked anyone else to try your food.

       -Can be a bit childish when it comes to that

“Is it too salty?” He smacks his lips a few times, taking in the flavor. “If anything it's a bit lumpy, kinda dry too.” I scrunch my face, “Odd. Could've sworn I kept the heat low enough. Guess I wasn't paying enough attention.” He tilts his head, “The flavors aren't bad though, honestly pretty perfect if you ask me.” I give a small smile, delighted by his praise. “Sorry to drag you all the way here for this Soma.” He gives a low chuckle, “No problem. I'm always down to taste test, especially your amazing food!” I grab the plate with the crumbs of the cake I had recently made and brought it to the sink, “You do not need to flatter me.” He shakes his head, “No flattery needed. You’re talented, nothing to sugar coat y’know.” I wasn't sure how to respond to such blatant compliments so I settled for a small lopsided grin.  “Thanks, that means a lot. Especially coming from the first seat of the council himself.” A light pink brushed his cheeks, “Now whos doing the flattering? It's nothing to brag about. I do have a lot I must improve on.” His ability to grow never ceases to surprise me, “You have quite the determined spirit, it's admirable.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure he's quite the guy.” 

We both turn to the voice that chimed in, “Ah, Akira, how's it going?” Soma inquires with his usual enthusiasm but the albino doesn't share the sentiment. “Fine. What's happening here?” I don't miss his dismissive tone as he turns himself to me. “Soma was just taste-testing a recent cake I was making.” He narrowed his eyes for a moment, “Well how's that going?” He asked but I'm certain he didn't really want the honest answer to that. “Still need some tweaking, but good overall.” He folds his arms, “Well I'm glad he's been of assistance. Now I think thats enough for today, it's getting late.” Its 6:30… Soma chirps up, “Well i gotta head out, needa prepare some stuff for tomorrow's food war, see ya’!” He waves as he leaves the room, and for a split second, you could see a glint of a smirk on Akira’s face.

“You’re such a jealous child.”

“Shut up.”

“You know I'm right.” He pulls me in, pressing a warm kiss to my forehead, “You don't need him to taste your food. I was here y’know.” I rest on his chest, “You never really seemed interested in tasting my food so I asked Soma since he wasn't busy.” He tightens his grip, “Don't do that again. Just come to me and ill give you feedback.” I give a knowing smile but don't comment on his obvious jealousy, “Well ill keep that in mind.”

Erina Nakiri

-A true sweetheart honestly

-Will 100% help you with your sweets and pastries as the loving girlfriend she is

-Baking dates every weekend is a must

 “Quite the variety you have! All this for just one night?”

-Takes a little more time to judge the taste since she does truly enjoy your food and doesn't want to miss any key flavors

       -Has to take a few tastes to actually take it in and not just judge with her god tongue and all that

“Wow, this is well made! The ganache you used brings a beautiful contrast to the moisture from the cake; well done my dear.”

-Basically, her and Hisako's relationship if they were dating; just very doting and sweet entanglement

 -Loves when you surprise her with your treats after/during a long day

      -Simply brightens her whole day

  (might be ooc)

    The kitchen brimmed with anticipation as I stood beside her as she flour-dusted the countertops, and the sweet scent of vanilla permeated the air. Today, she had invited me to step into her world, to experience the artistry she crafted every day.

I watched with admiration as Y/n effortlessly measured ingredients, their hands moving with precision and grace. Their culinary intuition was a marvel, as they expertly combined flavors and textures to create a symphony of tastes. The kitchen became their canvas, and I was fortunate enough to witness the strokes of their pure genius.

With every task that was to assigned me, Y/n’s patience and guidance enveloped me. They encouraged me to embrace the techniques, trust my instincts, and pour love into each step. Their professional expertise blended with unwavering belief in me, ignited a newfound passion within my heart.

As we worked side by side, I absorbed their knowledge like a sponge. They shared secrets and tricks, while their insights lifted my baking skills to new heights. The boundaries between teacher and student blurred, as our connection deepened and our shared love for the craft blossomed.

The oven hummed, the heat embracing our creations with warmth and anticipation. Together, we carefully placed our masterpieces inside, entrusting them to the alchemy of heat and time. The kitchen transformed into a sanctuary of hope and creativity, where dreams and flavors melded together.

As we waited for our creations to bake, Y/n's presence filled the room with an aura of confidence. They smiled,  eyes gleaming with pride and love. At that moment, I knew that this experience was not just about baking—it was a testament to the beautiful bond we shared.

As the aroma of freshly baked goods filled the air, we opened the oven with eager anticipation. The sight before us took my breath away—golden perfection, a testament to our collaboration and dedication. With a sense of accomplishment, we adorned our creations with delicate touches, transforming them into edible works of art.

Sitting at the table, forks in hand, we tasted the fruits of our labor. Each bite danced on my taste buds, an orchestra of flavors that sang of our love and shared passion. At that moment, I felt the warmth of Y/n’s presence, the fulfillment of our culinary journey, and the sweet taste of a love nurtured by the joy of creation.

Baking with Y/n was more than an adventure in the kitchen—it was a glimpse into her world, a celebration of her talent, and a reminder of the beautiful bond we shared. Together, we wove a tapestry of flavors and emotions, creating a lasting memory that would forever sweeten our lives.

Takumi Aldini

-A tad competitive 

-Will mellow out when you’re practicing your craft though

-Absolutely will stare hard at you (but do not point that out, he will blush and pout)

“N-No! I wasn't staring. I don't know what you’re talking about.”

-Please make him some, will be fussy if you don't let him have what you made

-Will always give you pointers though so never be afraid to ask

    -Especially loves it when you come up to him to ask; makes him feel all bubbly inside And a bit outside too. (Again, don't point it out. Tsun-Tsun.)

I carefully dusted the final touches of powdered sugar onto the delicate pastries, admiring the golden crust and the perfectly piped cream filling. My heart swelled with pride as I surveyed the display of my creations in the bakery. This was my passion, my art—the result of years of dedication and hard work.

Just as I was about to take a step back to fully appreciate the beauty before me, I felt a pair of arms wrapping around my waist. Takumi, my Italian chef boyfriend, nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

"Y/n, these look amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "But you know, there's something missing."

I turned my head to catch a glimpse of his mischievous smile. "Oh? And what might that be?"

He pouted playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, you see, I've been craving your sweet treats all day. You can't just tempt me with these delectable pastries and not save a few for your beloved Italian chef."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his theatrics. Takumi had a way of tugging at my heartstrings with his charm and infectious enthusiasm for food.

"All right, all right," I relented, unable to resist his request. "I'll save a couple of pastries just for you. But you better be prepared to savor every bite, Takumi."

He grinned triumphantly, his eyes gleaming with delight. "That's what I like to hear, Y/n. You know just how to make me happy."

As I carefully set aside a small box of pastries reserved exclusively for him, I couldn't help but marvel at the power food had to bring us closer. Our shared love for culinary delights was a bond that we cherished—a language of flavors and textures that spoke volumes in our relationship.

And so, with a secret stash of pastries hidden away, I looked forward to the moment when Takumi would indulge in my sweet creations. Because in those moments, as he savored every bite, I knew that our connection was strengthened, and our love for each other grew sweeter, one dessert at a time.

(This is my first writing piece on this platform so it's not the best but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Never hesitate to make a request and ill make time for it.)

[apollodarling-writes]

yandere sugawara hc?

ily sm for this.

fun fact: i actually kin sugawara.

tws: blood/gore, murder, gaslighting, manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, stalking, non-con, somnophilia, kidnapping, murder-suicide

YAN! SUGAWARA KOSHI HCs

Sugawara would, at first, admire you from afar. Watching as you joke with your friends, eat your lunch, and so on.

Sugawara would develop a crush on you that way. He would notice all the cute habits you have and the way your nose crinkles when your friends say something weird/gross, the way your eyes brighten when you laugh. He would notice everything.

Sugawara would find you on social media and stalk your page, looking for things to talk to you about. If he doesn't know/isn't interested in something you are, you better believe that he will research it.

Eventually, Sugawara would notice that he has competition. Whether it be you crushing on someone else or some rando crushing on you- he would be jealous. So so so so so jealous. He can't stand it.

Suga would work up the courage to speak to you and you two would become friends. He'd ask you to come to his practice games and he would ask you to hang out.

Suga would for sure be delusional but have moments where he realizes what he's doing is wrong. He would justify it somehow. Saying that he wasn't stalking you, he was just making sure you were safe... all the time. He wasn't killing people in cold blood, he was just making sure they didn't hurt you.

Before the murders start, he would secretly spread rumors about you. Horrible things. He feels bad, kind of. But, he knows that you'll be happier with him. He's the only one that's worthy of you.

And, when everyone leaves you, you'll cling to him. He'll be so happy. Don't even think about trying to reconnect and explain yourself to those losers, they didn't even ask you if it was true. They just left. Truly a blessing in disguise, if you ask him.

Suga would sneak into your room at night and take things from your dresser, like your panties/underwear/boxers and use them at home to get off. He'd cut portions of your hair off while you sleep, using it for voodoo.

Worst of all, when you fall asleep, he would use your hands or your thighs you pleasure himself while he touches you. He would be drunk off of your sleepy moans and the adrenaline. He secretly hopes you would wake up.

He would also take pictures of you. Pictures of you changing, pictures of you sleeping, pictures of you laughing, staring off into space, crying, etc.

When he starts killing people off, those 'friends' of yours would be first. Suga eliminates people that catch on and people that speak ill of you, as well as people that have feelings for you/people you had feelings for. He doesn't really want to hurt your family, but he will if he has to.

Suga will without a doubt, kidnap you. He'll run away with you to a cabin deep in the woods and keep you there. He'll lock you in a room until he can trust you.

Sugawara will keep you locked in that room, chained to the bed until you learn to lean on him. Sure, you'll hate him at first, but when you realize that he's all you have and he's the only one who will ever love you, you'll behave.

Sugawara will for sure feed you, clean you, bathe you, give you water, etc. He will take care of you, using the chains as an excuse.

He would also sleep beside you. He would cuddle up to you at night, kiss your forehead, and tell you all the good things that the two of you could have if you would just behave. He would also force affection maybe including sexual intimacy.

Sugawara uses the training system. He will reward you when you behave and he'll punish you when you break a rule. Behave, please. He'll cripple you if he needs to.

Suga is delusional, remember? So when he forces you you say that you love him, he knows you mean it.

Body worship. Suga loves everything about you. Doesn't matter your size, color, blemishes, etc. Will worship you in entirety.

He won't tell you that he kills people handles people for you. He wants you happy at all times, so he'll do anything to keep it that way.

If you have a uterus, Suga wants to have tons of children with you. Will definitely use your child to keep you in line.

If you manage to escape, he'll catch you before you can get help and take you back home.

If you manage to escape and get help he'll kill you and them himself. If he can't have you, no one can.

However, if you stay with him, when both of you turn eighteen and he trusts you enough, he'll integrate you back into society and tell everyone that you two decided to run away because you wanted to be safe. You'll be a wonderful housewife/house-husband/ house... spouse??

They'll never figure out that he was the murderer. He's too smart.

"[Name]-chan, I love you so so so so so so much. You love me too, right? Right?... I'm so glad. I knew you loved me."

"Don't cry. I'm just making sure you're safe."

"Sweetie, don't worry about them. They didn't even ask if you did those things. What friend leaves you over some silly rumor?"

"Don't worry, baby. I'm here. I'll always be here."

[dany-is-my-queen]

A Question of Loyalty VI

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

A weary sigh escaped your lungs as the sun set, the remnants of the reddish orange sun fading sublimely.

If Daemon hadn't killed your uncle, you have known what he was talking about. But he took it to his grave, he was in a rage that surely would have been that and not something serious.

You prayed for his soul in the Godswood for he was a member of your family despite his eagerness to bury your father.

“My lady.” A familiar voice came from behind, it was hoarse. “I wanted to thank you for your support back in the Throne Room. I knew you would root for my cause.”

“I didn’t do it for you, Rhaenyra. I did it for Lucerys.” You coldly replied.

“Right, yeah. I still very much appreciate your vote of confidence towards us.” You gave her a once-over.

Rhaenyra had a look of burden all over her, years ago you would ask her what was wrong, then help her to ease her turmoil but now, you just let the silence settle in.

“I want to name her like you.” She spoke, massaging her belly.

“I do not know if I’m worthy of such honor.”

“You are, Y/N.”

“Are you certain she’ll be a girl?”

“I’m counting on it.” You smiled faintly, it didn’t reach your eyes. You tried damn hard to disguise your hurt, the princess read your unreadable thoughts and aimed to grab your hands, out of instinct you recoiled before she could, she jerked back.

“My father is dying. But I noticed that his model city was immaculate. I don't think Alicent cared so much about cleaning it, or sending someone to do it. I thank your for it.”

“It is a sad thing, that the King is in such condition. But Queen Alicent has been seeing to the Realm’s interests. She’s doing her duty to the Kingdoms by ruling them wisely.” Rhaenyra sneered.

“Has she now? She meant to set aside Luke, your brother’s son… how is that doing a good job?”

“My brother’s son…” You mimicked, her gaze piercing as a dagger. “Laenor is dead. Cuckolded, you married your uncle, Rhaenyra. Why?”

“Y/N…—“ Tremendous amount of guilt invaded Rhaenyra, oh how she wished she could come clean about the truth of him.

“He was a far better man than Daemon will ever be. Even Harwin was. How could you?”

“Would you have wedded me?”

“What?”

“You’ve heard me. Would you’ve let me take you as my wife after Laenor’s demise?”

“That’s nonsense…”

“To me it never was, Y/N. With your brother gone, I had to strengthen my line. I had to—“

“You needn’t have to if you hadn’t mothered bastards!” She had no right to be offended, and you didn’t mean ill will towards the lads, she winced angrily for a second before she went softer. You still cared for her, she knew.

“We never tried, Y/N. We could never. I needed heirs, you can’t hold that against me forever.”

“Your line is stronger than ever. You are to be the Queen. I do hope Daemon suffices. I hope he’s gentle to you and treats you right.” You stepped to leave the Godswood, the starry night already hanging on your heads. Rhaenyra’s eyes were narrowed as you walked past her, she nigh stopped you, but she chose not to.

-

In the morrow, Helaena randomly chatted about “trivial” stuff while the twins were playing on the other side of the room. You were trying to gain the Her Grace’s attention, hopefully she would walk in and you’d take the chance.

“The old High Septon told my father that king’s laws are one thing and the laws of the gods another, the boy said stubbornly. Children are made in a marriage bed and blessed by the Father and the Mother, but others are born of lust and weakness, he said. The grey-haired man claimed that some are born of love and devotion. Blessed with wisdom and kindness, a rare type. But a type nonetheless.” A queer, uncomfortable perplexity began to invade you as Helaena finished speaking.

“Helaena, do you mind elaborating? Where did you hear this? Or rather, read it. Is it about your sister’s children?” You started interrogating her with dread. She squinted at you with a calm countenance, as calm as midnight waves. “Sweet Helaena…” Clearly with no intention of further elaboration. You wouldn’t want to overstep her boundaries or make her uneasy, as you knew she would get.

You were nonplussed. It was rude of you to decline the invitation made by the King himself, but you couldn't bear to be at the same table with the two women, you couldn't bear the deadly looks, the comments. You couldn't deal with it now that this was unveiled to you.

Your mother Rhaenys was secluded in her chambers to wash the image of Vaemond's head split in two. You couldn't face her, not yet.

You had a hundred questions swirling around, you were bewildered, stupefied. It made sense now, it was clear. Your uncle was about to say that you were born of your father's affair with another woman, Helaena spoke in riddles on the same subject. You've been lied to all your life, you were not a legitimate child... It was too much.

You poured glass after glass, until you emptied the flagon thrice in a row, your head spinning and your movements unfocused. The young princess meant well, she thought you deserved to know the truth. She loved you, why would she made this up?

You were a bastard. You were a fucking bastard. Your father’s been keeping this from you since forever, did your mother.., no, did Rhaenys pretended to love you? No, she did love you. It did make sense now why you didn’t have a resemblance to her, or to any Targaryen, but… you didn’t look like Corlys either.

Who the hell was your real mother? Was she a whore, a noble lady? Did she care? Was she still alive? How did you bond with Silverwing if you were just a simple bastard? Endless questions plagued your mind as you kept on drinking them away, your vision blurred, your heart staggered.

You slurred your way around the Keep, not with a precise destination, barely able to stand on your feet. A pair of vigorous arms caught you.

“Y/N? What happened, why are you like this?” The Princess worriedly examined you. “How much did you drink?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, maybe it was the booze in your system, or your inability to maintain eye contact with the culprit of your many heartaches.

“You skipped dinner with us, so you could get ridiculously hammered?” She nigh yelled at you, seldom did she act like the big woman, but given your state she could not talk softly to you.

“Leaving…— leaving without saying goodbye?” You managed to say.

“We are used to that.” Rhaenyra said back, your legs wobbly, her grip still stable in your waist, she pulled you closer to her.

“Ao gaomagon naejot fuck around rūsīr Harwin no isse these halls, sir rūsīr Daemon. Jāhor ziry mirre mōris?” (You used to fuck around in these halls with Harwin, and now with Daemon. Will it ever end?) You clumsy garbled in Valyrian. Rhaenyra bitterly sniggered.

“Hae lo ao weren't fucking se dāria pār, sepār raqagon ao issi sir.” (As if you weren't fucking the Queen then, just like you are now) She spat. You were wasted, and to be honest had no more vitality to keep on crossing swords with her.

“Let go of me, Rhaenyra.”

She hesitated, fearing that you would fall to the ground as soon as she loosened her grip, but you did not, you steadied your step and walked away from her as quickly as possible. The princess was puzzled, she should have accompanied you to your quarters, she should have, instead she turned to her children and her husband, determined to leave the city at once.

You ended up in front of a familiar wooden door, you thumped dramatically wishing the Queen could spare you some of her time. She did, she was still in her green gown, her locks were messy. She flinched at the sight of you.

“You stink of wine.” She uttered.

You’ve been here before, you remember being here under the same circumstances, and yet you couldn’t stop.

You pushed Alicent back to her bed, in your drunkenness you managed to be careful not to act so rudely.

She gasped, and did no more than contemplate the face of the woman she’s always been in love with. She’s always desired you, yearning to be yours again… she bit her lip rougher to halt herself to devour your inviting, redden lips.

You tucked yourself into the side of her neck, your breathing overflowing with craving. You were still intoxicated, but it was wearing off in a quick pace.

The noise you moaned next came from the depths of you. “Rhaenyra”

Alicent stiffened and fought with all her might to stop her hand from slapping you. Aware of the terrible blunder you had made, you buried even deeper into her, pressing tightly your body to hers.

“Go to her. I wager she’s still here.” She tried to shove you away, she could already feel the tears materializing.

Seeing the hurt written in her sobered you up in a blink of an eye. You finally spoke up, chests colliding.

"I wish I had long silver hair, striking blue eyes. I wish I had a free spirit, breaking all the damn rules no matter what the consequences. I wish I had a freaking dragon" Alicent shouted.

"I adore your chestnut locks, your deep brown eyes. I love how exquisitely you carry yourself when it comes to rules. And Silverwing took to you so well, why would you need a dragon?"

“So you would love me as much.”

“Ali…— Alicent.” She quivered under you at the way you pronounced her name. “I’m tired of this sickening game. I want us. I want you. It’s always been you. To me you're perfect just the way you are.” You weren't going to force her on you, so you stood up and rubbed your temples. "I am definitely not worthy of you now, Your Grace, but I will work on myself to give you a version that is, I vow to you." Alicent interlaced your fingers, preventing you from leaving the room.

“I’d ask you to stay the night, but I must look after the King.”

“I know, duty comes first.” She hummed.

“And I wouldn’t want my sheets to reek of you, bathe yourself. Have some rest. We can talk in the morrow.” A profound hopefulness made its way to you. You tittered, Alicent gave you a quick peck on the corner of the mouth, as you watched her fade into the castle halls.

Will love ever be the end of duty?

Tagging: @loveislove4 @evattude @lethal-minds @sophiexoxsblog @sunshove @tired-ninfa @rxscpctals @glorioushamsterqueen @lesbicentism @newcaptainofsquad9

[themagical1sa]

oh now, holding this pain just like on the day I left you alone

the pain grows more every day endlessly before me, like deja vu

hi. my name is Isa Capi and I refuse to sleep once again lol my brain is so weird for wanting to be depressed on a rainy November night like tonight. in the Philippines. it’s the perfect kind of night to get cozy and sleep. if I didn’t want to sleep, I would have rather worked on some college assignments, but my brain doesn’t want to work either! what the heck 🧍 well, since my brain doesn’t want to sleep nor work and I don’t want to be depressed, I am now making a compromise by making something my brain and I can agree on: writing a vent-comfort drabble. this has happened before with my first Tagalog-written drabble and it worked well as a distraction from Being Mentally Ill™ lmao without further ado, here is the drabble.

⏳ WRITING START : 11-17-2022 ⌛ WRITING END : 11-28-2022

#️⃣ WORD COUNT : roughly 2.1k words

🏷️ TAGS : post-ISWM, Captaineer (The Captain/Head Engineer Mark), angst to comfort, holy shit veeery angsty now that I think about it, the Captain is Tired, we have Impostor Syndrome and it's Horrible, I am once again reiterating angst to comfort

⚠️ CONTENT WARNINGS AND HEADS-UP :

dabbles into what having a horrible and intrusive mental state feels like with impostor syndrome.

colored text (particularly colored red and blue) has been utilized for a visually immersive reading experience.

reader discretion is advised. in other words: read at your own risk.

“Good work today, everyone. You are all dismissed.”

You watch as everyone leaves the conference room, satisfied smile still enduring on your face. Once the last of the head officers and their assistants have left, you finally let yourself collapse slowly to the floor, barely leaning on the wall as you did so.

You’re tired.

You are so overwhelmingly tired — exhausted, even.

Then again, who wouldn’t be, after jumping through countless of lifetimes and endangering countless lives?

Who wouldn’t be beyond exhausted carrying unfathomable guilt while leading the first human colony outside of your own solar system and galaxy?

Good God, you didn’t think it would come to this.

You didn’t even think you’d even be here at all.

You curl into a ball from your previous sitting position, hugging your knees to yourself as you close your eyes.

How did you get here?

A lot of thoughts zoom by your mind as you sit there in the conference room, alone beside the door while contemplating your life decisions.

You were given this role of Captain because the world’s authorities thought of you worthy, but were they right to trust you with the Invincible?

Do they know about how much you had managed to screw up the multiverse?

How did you even get here?

Did you even deserve to be here?

You couldn’t trust your own mind at this point. Intrusive thoughts become louder by the second, making you hold your head as you shake it. “No, no, shut up,” you whisper to yourself. “I deserve to be here. I worked so hard and so well that I was entrusted here. They saw me fit. I deserve to be here.”

You reassure yourself, but your attempts feel futile as the intrusive voices in your head speak ever louder and more erratically. No, you don’t, they retort. You just faked your way into becoming Captain like the impostor you are. You’re a fail YOU FAILED!– failure and you’re undeserving of being Captain. WHO ARE YOU, REALLY? They should have put you down when they had the chance. You shouldn’t be here– who are you to be here?

You’re very aware of how it’s becoming worse — you should be having this breakdown in your room, in your personal space. You want to berate yourself for not having left the conference room earlier, but you decide against it as you try to get up, leaning on the wall for support before moving forward to the long table in the room. Your mental state has worsened your breathing, your once normal rhythm now quickened into panicked breaths. You try to take a deep breath before turning to the door–

“Captain?”

–where you see your Head Engineer, looking at you with worry clearly showing on his face.

“Mark,” You try to smile, but you’re self-aware of how it isn’t quite hiding your pain. “I was just about to leave. Did you forget something?”

Mark blinks as he looks around the empty conference room before worriedly looking back at you. “No, I– I was looking for you, Cap. Are you okay? How long have you been here?”

You softly (and yet, bitterly) chuckle at Mark’s response about finding you. You shake your head slowly as you say, “I’m fine, Mark. I haven’t been here too long. I was just about to leave.”

You mentally pick yourself up — it feels like carrying more than one dead body for you, and this is just you picking yourself up — and you try to make it seem like you’re not slowly staggering as you exit the conference room, but then you hear Mark say,

“I remember, Captain.”

You stop just at the doorway.

“…what do you mean you remember, Mark?”

You are now turned to him, seeing his face darken with trauma and regret.

“Everything,” Mark answers, his voice deep with remorse. “I– I remember how we kept jumping into universe from universe, and I– God, I thought it was you, but I– it was all me, Cap. It was me–”

“No,” you sternly interrupt him despite your current mental state. “It wasn’t just you. You may have built the Warp Core, but I was the one making rash decisions. I was the one who put everyone in the multiverse at risk. I put everyone on the line and I was the one who hurt everyone, including you.”

Mark is baffled with the way you’re owning up to what happened. “But you–”

“But I’m nothing!” You suddenly burst out, unable to stop the tears beginning to flow and stream down your face.

This takes Mark back, baffled and shocked as you unravel in front of him.

“I was the one entrusted with the lives of every single person on this ship,” You continue, “and that’s including you! Do you know how that feels, carrying that responsibility?! I was supposed to keep everyone safe, and I was supposed to make sure we all get through the journey unharmed, but I– but I–!”

You stop. You realize you’re unraveling.

You realize that you’re unraveling in front of your Head Engineer.

You realize that you’re unraveling in front of the only other person who knows about what happened.

He didn’t deserve to see you like this, not when you’re the same person who continuously looked for him; not when you were the one who persevered through lifetime to lifetime, hopeful that you could stop him from repeating his same mistake that destroyed the multiverse and trapped it into a destructive loop.

He didn’t deserve to see you like this.

He didn’t deserve to see you like this at all.

In fact, he shouldn't have to see you, his Captain, unraveling so messily like this.

You scoff; and then, you let out a bitter laugh.

“Ha… haha…” Your voice resounded, broken and unsure as your eyes darkened with your bitter smile. “I’m… I apologize for my outburst. That was… that was really unbecoming of me. I should go now.”

You turn to finally leave, but you feel a hand hold yours, halting your departure once more.

“Don’t…” Mark begins, trailing off. “Don’t go yet.”

You don’t move. You don’t even turn to look at him when you say, “Let me go.”

“No.” Your Head Engineer deadpanned, voice solid and stern. “I’m not letting you go.”

You turn your head a little, as if leaning to look. You don’t, however, as you refuse to see him.

“Let me go, Mark.”

“No. I’m here, Captain. I’m here, holding on to you, and I’m not letting you go.”

You suddenly remember when you held him back from the wormhole.

He was begging you to let him go, to let him fix what he thought was your mistake — but you knew how it was all him, and that even his older self knew he needed you to stop him. You spent lifetime after lifetime letting him slip through your hands until you finally, finally got ahold of him and never let him go.

It seems the tables have turned.

“Why…?” You weakly ask, voice barely above a whisper. “You know. You know how I put everyone in the multiverse at stake. I put everyone at stake and I treated it like a game. I was horrible for that and you know it.”

Mark could only shake his head, beyond baffled at what he was hearing from you. “What?! Captain, no! I don’t think of you that way, not anymore. Nobody thinks of you that way–”

“Well, I do!” You finally admit, turning so quickly to him that you feel a little dizzy. “I finally realize why you and Lady resented me so much, and– God, I didn’t see it, but I killed so many people– so many dead, and it was all because I thought we were just starting over!”

At this point, you’re sure you look much like a mess. Your hair is unruly from the way you held your head earlier, and your eyes are flowing with tears — tears that have long stained your cheeks and flowed until they drop to the floor. Snot is beginning to run down your nose. You’re sure you’re far from pretty and/or handsome.

You’re far from pretty and/or handsome.

Even so, Mark can’t help but love you more anyway.

“I thought…” You speak again, catching his attention once again. “I thought that… I thought if I find you, if I find you and hold on… I thought it would stop. And I was right– older you was right, even– and we restored the multiverse.”

Your eyes drop to the floor, closing them as you remember all those bodies — all those corpses — that came out of the wormhole for every time you died and/or jumped into another universe.

All those corpses.

All those lives.

All those people– dead because of you.

“We restored the multiverse, Mark,” you state to him, but your voice has become more broken as you hold back a sob before looking at him in the eyes.

“We restored it, Mark, but what did it cost? What did my foolishness cost?”

You couldn’t stand anymore — not when you’re already falling apart. You had half the mind to lean onto the wall before sliding down to the floor again. You don’t care about appearances anymore; it’s just you and your Head Engineer, anyway. You try to take deep breaths as haunted memories flash in your mind. You close your eyes and put your gloved hands over them as an attempt to stop seeing such flashbacks, but you can still see it all like a waking nightmare.

The fact that you can still remember almost clearly makes you whimper.

You don't feel it at first, but Mark had crouched to level with you, hands reaching to your shoulders. Before you know it, you find yourself in your Head Engineer's arms, wrapped in his warm embrace.

Mark hugging you feels very comforting — grounding, even. The voices in your head begin to die down, and the intrusive nightmarish distortion of your memories start to fade as your mind relaxes. Your breathing slows, and you find yourself leaning more to your Head Engineer as he carefully cradles and comforts you.

His voice is soft when he speaks.

“You know, Captain,” he begins somberly, “I'm really glad you held on to me.”

What he said makes you look at him with your tired, cried-out eyes.

“...what makes you say that?”

Mark sighs as he gently strokes your hair, closing his eyes as he thinks back to the loop. “Well, I was just making the same mistake after all,” he reasons out. “I remember catching wind of that.”

You remember when his older self realized it back in the diner, telling you that you had to stop his younger self. “Oh... you remember that, don't you?”

He chuckles bittersweetly. “Yeah, somewhat...”

You chuckle with him, subconsciously glad that you can recall the events of the wormhole without your mind twisting it maliciously.

“I kind of remember when I hoped that you'd stop me,” he admits, voice soft as he recalls the time. “I don't think I was consciously hoping, though... but that Warp Crystal always found you, didn't it?”

What he just said makes you think.

For every loop reset, you come back to a sabotaged ship. You recall when you do reach the door to the Warp Core Chamber and how the Warp Core was looking for a suitable host and how it always said suitable host located when it scans you.

“With that said, Captain,” Mark begins, taking you out of your reverie. “You're not as horrible as you think. In fact, I believe you really are the best of us, because you never gave up on your crew — you never gave up on me.”

Your Head Engineer gently takes your face by the chin, making you look him in the eyes as you sniff. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying, cheeks stained with all the tears that have been flowing. You're evidently vulnerable, and Mark takes it upon himself to take care of you for the time being.

“You never gave up on us, so don't give up on yourself, Cap,” he softly states, “because I believe in you just as much as you believed in me.”

You feel your heart ache and you cry even more — but now you gratefully smile.

“Mark, thank you,” you say, voice weak and cracked. “Really, thank you.”

He reflects your smile sincerely as he chuckles. “I should be thanking you, Captain. But yeah... you're welcome.”

The both of you stay there, cuddled up together on the floor as you steady yourself and your breaths. You lean onto your Head Engineer's shoulder as he cradles you, hugging you and holding your head. Your intrusive thoughts have all died down now, and all that's left in your headspace is a sense of comfort and contentment. You finally feel at peace with yourself.

Whatever had happened is all in the past now, and you've never been more glad that you experienced it all with him.

P.S. I really meant to utilize the colored text more specially to simulate the Captain's headspace post-ISWM. I like to think that post-ISWM, they build their new colony, they start having doubts about themself, which slowly and eventually leads to nightmarish distortions of their memories. It then develops into a horrible state of mind — hence the red and blue. You can say they're like… glitches. Errors, if you will. Oh, and you know how, in a distant place in the multiverse, we are part of an amalgamated being that glitches red and blue? How their red is often passionate rage, and their blue is often a calculated calm? Yeah.

Anyway, writing this helped me feel better, even if for a little bit. I've been feeling horrible about myself lately (hence this entire fic lmao) so it's nice to let it out somehow. This was cathartic. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed reading this.

The divider used in this is a cropped photo of steil egil liland's Blac Blue and Green.

[synkverv]

the color violet never seemed to glow (until i saw it in your eyes)

Chapter One: fly with me Art by: @ewanmitchellcrumbs Pairing: Alicent/Rhaenyra (Rhaenicent), Laenor/Joffrey Lonmouth (mentioned) Rating: mature Tags & Warnings: alternate universe - 1980s, fluff and smut, angst and humor, period-typical homophobia, body dysmorphia, declarations of love, drinking Word Count: 6,460 AO3: link

Summary: (King's Landing, Westeros, August 1986). Alicent was devastated when Rhaenyra first told her she was moving to the Vale to attend university. So to try and cheer her friend up, Rhaenyra promised to make this the best summer ever. She doted on Alicent, treating her to any and every activity that crossed her mind. But as the date of Rhaenyra’s departure approached, Alicent couldn't help but sink into a depression. She struggled to admit the thoughts that plagued her whole existence: she was in love with Rhaenyra. Perhaps on their final outing together, during all the shopping, eating, sunbathing, drinking, and dancing, she will be brave and say what's always been on her mind. But unbeknownst to her, Rhaenyra has the same idea.

Notes: this is my submission for @hotd-bigbang. and a special thank you to ewanmitchellcrumbs for the header, moodboard, dividers, and for organizing this event so wonderfully!! this was my first big bang and it won’t be my last. it’s been such a fantastic experience. thank you again ewanmitchellcrumbs and it’s been so great working with you!

anyway, thanks for reading! this was initially a one-shot but it grew too long for my liking so i’ve decided to split it up into two chapters (or perhaps more but don’t hold me to that!) chapter two will be posted at a later date, hopefully sooner rather than later.

    The Vale.  

   Once a place that rarely crossed her mind now burrows into her every waking thought.  She hates the Vale.  Rather, she hates what it will take from her.  Stealing away the most prized person in her life and keeping her behind its walls was a worthy enough reason to hate anything.  She thinks about the people there, and she hates them, too.  She hates all the new individuals who threaten to invade her friend's life.  She can’t help but think of those who will replace everyone she had here in King's Landing.  A new friend group, a new boy toy, and worst of all, a new best friend.  Everything Alicent knows and lives will be nothing but a distant memory to Rhaenyra.  Fragments of an old life.  Despite her moping, Alicent accepts nothing stays the same forever.  It’s life’s impossibility.  Change is inevitable.  But truthfully, what nineteen-year-old understands that?  It’s silly to blame a location for her distress, she knows, but Alicent needs something to take the brunt of her frustration.  It helps to focus her attention on the wrong thing, or so she believes it does.  She convinces herself it’s easier to despise a place that means little to her than to despise her friend's choices.  Or worse, to despise her friend herself. 

   She’s lying on her back atop her bed’s grey-green duvet.  Her ankles are crossed and her fingers are laced together resting limply on her stomach.  Her steady breathing conceals the torrent of thoughts racing behind her eyes.  The shades are drawn, keeping the otherwise cheerful room as dark as her mood.  

   Alicent grimaces.

   What kind of person would she be if she hated Rhaenyra for pursuing her dreams and goals in life?  As her best friend, she should support her in all her endeavors.  Even if it hurts.  Rhaenyra wants to attend the same university as her mother.  So, what?   Alicent understands the need to feel close again to one’s late mother if nothing else.  

   Alicent hadn’t seen her mother in four years before her sudden illness last year.  Her father had split up the family when he took up his current job working alongside Rhaenyra’s father in the capital.  At his insistence, Alicent and her brothers came to live in King’s Landing to study and make important connections to aid their careers.  Grayce, however, refused to move and remained in Oldtown with her brother-in-law, Hobert, and his sweet wife with whom she was close.  Otto and Viserys had been friends for longer than either were married but it still shocked the whole family when he chose Viserys over Grayce.  

   Alicent wishes she asked her mother why she stayed behind.  Four years is a long time to spend away from your husband and your children.  Why not come?  Father avoids the question when I ask , she thinks, I doubt I’ll ever know why now .  

   Yet though it seemed their marriage was strained for reasons unaddressed, Alicent watched her father become ever-dutiful and caring for his wife when she fell ill.  Alicent, her brothers, and her father flew back to Oldtown the second they found out Grayce was sick.  They lived at the hospital and Hobert’s home for nearly a full year.  Grayce’s funeral was attended by hundreds of mourners from both the Hightower and Redwyne families.  Alicent and her siblings stayed under their uncle’s roof for another week after Grayce’s passing before flying home to King’s Landing.  It still surprises Alicent that they lasted that long.  Otto had grown noticeably aimless and restless following the funeral, annoying his brother, his sister-in-law, his nieces and nephews, everyone.  Gwayne later told her he suspected that their father disliked being around the family without being the center of attention, but Alicent, at the time, just believed he struggled to express his grief properly.  Losing a mother was hard enough, she couldn’t imagine losing a life partner, the second half of one’s being.

   " Allie, door! " her brother calls from downstairs.  

   She glances at the alarm clock to her right on her bedside table.  Half nine , it reads.  She’s late, as usual .  But Alicent doesn’t care.  She never does.  Not on the first day of summer or today, the last.  Rhaenyra promised to make this the best summer ever, and so far, it had been just that.  Yet the thought of it ending lingered in the back of Alicent's mind the whole time, spoiling even the best moments.  She’ll never let Nyra know though.  She knows her friend feels guilty enough about moving away and she doesn’t want to make it worse on either of them.  They avoid the subject. 

   "Be down in a second!" she shouts.  She hears her brother respond but can’t make out what he said.  Not that it matters.  Gwayne makes snide comments all the time, and they’re so often meaningless.  She checks herself out in the mirror on the back of her door, never one to leave the house unmade or underdressed.  She brushes the wrinkles out of her light jean shorts and straightens her loose, sleeveless white top.  Her crimped auburn hair is full and teased out.  It’s almost hard to the touch from the layers and layers of hairspray, just the way she likes it.  She grabs a couple of makeup products from her organized desktop and returns to the mirror, leaning almost close enough to brush her nose against it.  She quickly slathers her favorite shade of pink lipstick over her lips.  Next, she applies a modest amount of black mascara to her lashes, gently accentuating their natural length.  Father hates if I wear too much makeup… or any , she thinks as she stares at her reflection.  At least he’s not here to see it .  She looks down at her hands and frowns.  The skin around her fingers is red and angry, sporting more than a few scabs.  She used to wear nail polish to distract the eye but she couldn’t keep from picking at the pastel colors.  She grew tired of reapplying the polish day after day, so she stopped.  Her picking has never been worse, never been so obvious.  She hopes Rhaenyra doesn’t mention it.  

   Alicent snatches her crossbody purse from the hook by her door and all but runs downstairs.  She expects to find her friend inside by the backdoor, like usual, but when she gets there, nobody is there.  Garage .  Rhaenyra never knocks at the front door, not since it got Alicent in trouble for ‘bothering’ her father.  Father hates it when Rhaenyra stops by unannounced, or even when it’s planned.  Despite Rhaenyra’s father being his best, if not only friend, Otto disliked her.  It seems she was ever the thorn in his side, much to the confusion of both girls.  He refused to elaborate on his distaste for Rhaenyra no matter how often Alicent would ask.  So, the two girls agreed to keep their rendezvous and plans hidden from Otto.  Alicent only ever tells her Gwayne, the only brother who still lives with her, where she is going and who she is going with (it’s always Rhaenyra).  

   Alicent turns from the back door and crosses the house to the kitchen.  She finds Gwayne sitting at the kitchen island, a math textbook and notebook splayed open before him.  Across the room is the door leading to the garage, cracked open just a hair.

   Without looking up, he says, "Father won't be home until late again.  Make sure you're back before then ‘cause I can’t cover for you."  She nods, knowing Gwayne has plans to see his girlfriend that night.  Alicent turns to leave but Gwayne speaks up again.  "Hey."  She looks back at him, her hand on the garage door handle.

   "Yeah?"

   "Have fun."

   "Thanks," Alicent says, flashing a soft grin.  “You, too.”  She pushes the door aside and sees Rhaenyra leaning casually against her bike, parked inside the open garage.  With her back to Alicent, she doesn’t immediately acknowledge her presence.  Her friend’s eyes are locked on the empty driveway and road.  Alicent smiles as she regards Rhaenyra.  Ever the rebel, she wears a bulky leather jacket over an all too familiar, clearly favored purple tube top romper.  Her long silver-gold hair runs down her jacket like a calm waterfall.  She cradles a black helmet under her left arm and rests her dominant hand on top of a secondary helmet sitting on the motorcycle’s seat. 

   “Does it work now?” Alicent asks as she closes the door behind her, breaking the silence and announcing herself.  Rhaenyra whips around, grinning. 

   "Of course.  I made it here didn’t I?” 

   “You made it all the way to Harwin’s last time, too.”  Rhaenyra flushed, playfully rolling her eyes.

   “Daemon helped me fix it up after it broke down.  It's not gonna fall apart again."  She glanced at the yellow motorcycle and made a face.  "Probably.  Anyway, let's go."  She jumps away from her bike, dropping the helmet beside the other, and takes Alicent’s hands in her own.  "Fly with me," she says, a fox-like smirk pulling at the left corner of her mouth.  Mischief flickers in her violet eyes.  

   "Why is it such a secret this time, Rhaenyra?  What have you planned?"  

   "And spoil everything?  You trust me, right?"

   "Yes, of course I do..."

   "So, hop on."  Rhaenyra pulls Alicent to the motorcycle and drops her hands.  She swings a leg over the seat and plops down onto the fabric seat.  She yanks one of the helmets down over her head and holds out the second for Alicent.  Alicent takes the helmet, puts it on, and sits behind Rhaenyra.  The seat isn’t the largest, but neither of the girls is particularly big.  They fit, but just barely.  Alicent clasps her hands together around her friend’s waist as Rhaenyra fires up the engine.  She held onto Rhaenyra a little tighter than was necessary, but Rhaenyra didn’t complain.  Alicent hates motorcycles, especially this beat-up old thing, but Rhaenyra was proud of her tinkering skills.  So, she ignores her fears.  If it makes Nyra happy, it makes her happy ( it gives her an excuse to hold on to Rhaenyra ).

   Rhaenyra speeds out of the garage and barrels down Alicent's neighborhood street.  Anxious, Alicent leans her body against Nyra for support.  She can’t help but close her eyes as they drive through the claustrophobic streets of King's Landing.  She feels the wind tugging at her hair, the red mess flying behind her like a flag.  Her hairspray fights back as best it can, but she knows the style is ruined.  Oh, well .  It isn’t something she didn’t anticipate.  Rhaenyra’s antics have ruined more than a few hairdos and outfits.  What’s one more?   

   Alicent feels Rhaenyra steering them further and further south, and then the realization comes to her.  She knows exactly where they are going even without looking.  She had lived here long enough.  If she wasn't so terrified, she would smile.  

    A day at the beach, so it is , she thinks when they finally stop.  Rhaenyra had parked along a residential street behind the Conqueror's Boardwalk, sandwiching them in between a gold sedan and a black SUV.  The girls dismount and Alicent looks around at the buildings lining the boardwalk.  She spies countless other people walking about in their swimsuits, coverups, and regular day clothes.  It’s a superbly pleasant day to Alicent.  There isn’t a cloud in the sky but a cool ocean breeze offers some relief from the summer heat.    

   “The beach then?” Alicent asks, giggling softly.  “Why was this a secret?”

   “It’s not just the beach.”

   “What else?” 

   “You’ll see,” Rhaenyra says, flashing a white grin.  “Let’s go!”  And without another word, she dashes off towards the boardwalk.  

   “Wait, Nyra!” Alicent calls after her, jogging after her as quickly as she can.

   “Come on!  Hurry up!”  

   “I’m trying!”  She struggles to keep up since running isn’t her strong suit.  Westerosi people don’t exercise as much as they should.  When she catches up, she finds Rhaenyra waiting outside a cute shop on the boardwalk.  Just Seahorsing Around , reads the sign above the building.  Seahorse decals cover the windows, accompanying numerous more seahorse puns.  She can’t help but smile at the ridiculous place.  From the exterior, she isn’t sure what they sell inside.  Aside from jokes, anyway.  Her friend, however, seems familiar with the shop.  Just as Alicent opens her mouth to ask, Rhaenyra takes Alicent by the wrist and guides her inside the store.

   Though a modest building size, she can’t say the owners don’t utilize the space efficiently.  She eyes the circular racks at the front stuffed with hanging bathing suits of all shapes, sizes, and colors.  Flip-flops, beach bags, coolers, towels, sunscreen lotion, umbrellas, volleyballs, and sandcastle toys for little ones occupy the numerous free-standing shelves and display tables that dot the floor.  By the register, there are various snacks like bagged chips, soda, fruity hard candy, and individually wrapped Twinkies for customers.  She notes that they don’t sell anything that can significantly melt in the summer heat like chocolates and cold treats.  It was anything and everything a beachgoer could possibly want, and Alicent was almost awestruck.   

   “We’ll obviously need to change,” Rhaenyra says, still pulling Alicent along as if worrying she might get lost in the store.  “Unless you prefer your underwear.”  She winks with an open smile.  

   “No!” Alicent says.  “How absurd!”  She giggles as she pictures herself wading in the ocean water in her bra and panties.  “You know, I have a perfectly good bathing suit at home I could have brought?”  

   “That old blue and cream thing?  Nah, you desperately need something new.  Something from this decade.”  Rhaenyra drops Alicent’s arm and stops at a large rack packed with countless hanging suits, one and two-piece alike.

   “It’s only two years old,” Alicent says.

   “Whatever.  It screams Yucksville ‘75, dude.  Now,” Rhaenyra says as she begins fingering through the available options, “treat yourself to 1986.  See, now these are bitchin’.”  She pulls out two hangers and grins.  “Here, hold these a sec’,” she says, shoving the swimsuits at Alicent.  She returns her attention to the rack and grabs a few more choices.  Rhaenyra looks around the store and says, “Ah!” when she spots a changing area at the back.  “I’m gonna try these on real quick.”  Alicent hands back the suits and watches her practically skip into one of the changing room stalls.  

   She laughs to herself and begins to skim through the rack herself.  She wants something that isn’t too revealing nor too prudish like her old blue one-piece.  Yet, she has trouble finding the one .  She isn’t as confident in her body as Rhaenyra is with her perfect figure and curves in all the right places.  Alicent is stick-thin by comparison.  She worries that her bones are too visible, that her veins show through her skin too much, that she’s too tall, and other such silly things.  Still, she wants to be confident in front of her friend.  Even if she has to pretend.  She shakes her head.  She’s supposed to enjoy this day, the last day she’ll have with Rhaenyra, and she can’t let body image issues take any enjoyment away from her.  

   Alicent picks out three different swimsuits, three she would never normally wear.  She thinks they would look stunning on Rhaenyra, so why not on her, too?  

   “So, what do you think?”  Alicent didn’t hear Rhaenyra behind her until she spoke.  She turns around to see Rhaenyra posing in one of the suits, barefoot.  She is holding one hand on her hip while the other frames one side of her round face.  Her grin is infectious as she shows off a deep red bikini with high-cut bottoms and a twisted bandeau top.  Of course, that’s what she picked .  

   “I think it’s very you.”  Rhaenyra’s brows shoot up and her grin widens.

   “Good, ‘cause this is what I liked best.”  Rhaenyra’s eyes drift to the swimsuits Alicent had draped over one arm.  “Those look cute,” she says, that mischievous sparkle returning to her eyes.  Before she says anything, Rhaenyra once more attaches herself to Alicent.  Still grinning, she pulls them over to the changing rooms.  Rhaenyra opens a stall and squeezes the both of them inside, latching the thin wooden door behind her.  Alicent doesn’t protest, at least, not much.  

   “Won’t we get in trouble?” Alicent whispers.

   “For what?  We’re not doing anything.  Mothers take their little kiddos in with them all the time, what’s the harm?”  She thinks about mentioning that they are two fully grown girls, not a mother-and-daughter duo, but she gives up.  Although Alicent trembles at the mere thought of getting in trouble with authority, Rhaenyra has an oddly calming effect on her.  If she knows about that power, Alicent thinks she could encourage her to do anything she wants.  Hmph, perhaps she already does , she thinks, looking at her friend in the stall with her.  She’s a terrible influence but I wouldn’t change a thing .

   “Fine, I hope you’re right.”  She’ll keep her voice down all the same.  Alicent slings the swimsuits over the top of the door as there are no hooks or anywhere to sit in the tiny stall.  

   Despite her personal issues with her body, she never is shy to change in front of Rhaenyra.  Perhaps she’s a little coy, but Nyra doesn’t have anything different… down there .  She’s seen her friend naked more times than she can count, and vice versa.  Flesh is flesh.  Alicent shrugs off her white blouse, kicks off her black flats, and steps out of her jeans.  She throws the clothes over the door before unclasping her bra and pulling down her panties.  Rhaenyra offers to hold them instead of adding them to the crowd of clothing.  Alicent thanks her, handing them over, and takes one of the suits down to try on.  

   She looks at herself in the mirror hanging on the back wall and huffs.  It’s not to her liking.  Rhaenyra agrees, so Alicent tries the second one on.  She likes it better, but the bottom sags and makes her butt look strange.  Not an ideal look.  She grabs the third which, out of the three, is far superior.  The flounced top and skirted bottom suit her more girlish style while highlighting her bosom and ass.  She loves the rich green shade against her pale skin.  She shakes her head, raking her fingers through her hair to bring it all forward over her shoulders.  Rhaenyra peers into the mirror from behind Alicent, smirking.  

   “I have an idea,” she says.  “Switch tops with me.”

   “Why?”

   “We’ll match.  Or we’ll mismatch together.  C’mon, please?”  Rhaenyra pouts, batting her long white lashes at Alicent.  As always, she can’t seem to say no.  Alicent signs and pulls off her top, Rhaenyra doing the same.  They swap and admire themselves in the mirror, Rhaenyra wearing green up top and red on the bottom and Alicent the reverse.  Rhaenyra shakes her breasts back and forth, making the flounced top flutter.  Alicent feels her cheeks warming and averts her eyes to her own chest.  The red top flatters her figure as well as the other, but the cut wasn’t something she would choose herself.  The top threatens to slip down to her waist any minute.  At least, that’s how it feels.  It isn’t as tight and secure as the tops she typically wears.  Father would despise me in this , she thinks.  And suddenly a thought comes to her.  She wonders if it’s always been her father’s voice in her head that says unflattering and negative things about her body.  Bravely, she pushes the negativity aside.  Father would never allow me to wear this .  But he isn’t here .  She looks at her pink lips and black eyelashes, and a soft smile comes to her mouth.  What harm is one more little secret?   She sighs, pulling the top up as far as she can without showing the underside of her breasts.  But she’ll make do if it makes her friend happy.  And she does seem so happy.  

   They gather up the rejected suits and their clothes then exit the changing room in their new swimsuits.  Alicent tries her best to look inconspicuous while Rhaenyra does not care either way.  Both are barefoot as they carry their shoes in one hand with their outfits resting over an arm. 

   “We just need a few more things,” Rhaenyra says, “then we can properly enjoy ourselves.”  I’m already enjoying myself plenty , Alicent thinks, just being with you .  She nods and follows as Rhaenyra approaches a long shelving unit that almost runs the whole length of the store.  They each pick out a cheap towel and a pair of flip-flops before heading to the front where they browse a rack of sunglasses.  Rhaenyra chooses a pair of traditional black aviators but Alicent picks a gold-framed pair with thin, pink rectangle lenses.  They aren’t ideal for fighting off the sunlight, however, they are simply too cute to resist.   

   “Any snacks?” Rhaenyra says as they near the cashier’s counter.  Alicent glances at the options again and shakes her head.  

   “I should limit my bad habits,” she answers, eyeing the chips and soda.  They each place their towels, flip-flops, and glasses on the counter.  The cashier welcomes them and begins calculating their items on the cash register.  They take turns showing the tags on their swimwear for him to total as well.  He’s a tall boy around their age, in his mid-teens Alicent guesses.  He has silver dreadlocks that dust the shoulders of his teal t-shirt and an otherwise dark complexion.  He smells both spicy and sweet, like gardenias or freshly cut grass.  He’s nothing like the average beach bum, looking out of place and uncomfortable behind the store’s counter.  She senses a longing from him.  He’s familiar to her but she can’t place where they might have met before.  School, probably.  Her eyes lock on the lanyard around his neck clasping a white name card that reads Laenor .  Hm .

   “Y’know, if you’re hungry, there’s an ice cream shop a little way down the boardwalk,” Laenor suggests. His voice is calm and quiet; Alicent has to stain her ears just to hear him.  “Just head towards the pier and you’ll see it on the way.  Wylde Flavors.  They specialize in all sorts of unique tastes… if you’re interested in that kinda thing.”  The girls shoot each other a look before Rhaenyra tells him that sounds like a fine idea.  She thanks him and flashes a tight smile.  “Need a bag?”  Rhaenyra nods her head, avoiding eye contact as she takes a tote bag from Laenor.  He smiles awkwardly in return as she packs their towels, her romper, jacket, and shoes inside.  Alicent shoves her own clothes in the bag and puts on her pair of flip-flops.  Fiddling with her sunglasses, she looks back and forth between the other two, her brows furrowing.  What’s their damage?   

   “So,” Rhaenyra says after clearing her throat, “how’s Laena doing?”

   “Oh, she’s fine, yeah.  Fine, she’s good.  She’s been, uh, overseas all summer but she calls me every night.”

   “Yeah?  What’s she doing over…?”

   “Um, in Pentos, yeah.  It’s some horse racing thing.  She competes now.  Her mare is this beast of a thing.  Scares Papa but you know how he dotes on her.”  Rhaenyra nods.

   “I remember her saying something about wanting to own a horse a few times,” Rhaenyra says with a genuine smile.  “Glad she’s doing that for herself.”

   “Yeah, yeah, we’re all very proud of her.”

   “I expect she’ll be bringing the gold home.”

   “Without a doubt, yeah.  She’d spend all day every day on that horse if she could.”

   “When does she come back home?”

   “Oh, uh, two weeks from Thursday?”

   “Nice.  Well, give my love to her and hope you’re doing good, too.”

   “I am, yeah, thanks.”

   “Good!  Good.  See you ‘round then.”  Rhaenyra throws the tote back over a shoulder, slides on her flip-flops and glasses, and takes Alicent by the arm.  Laenor waves goodbye to Alicent as Rhaenyra all but drags her outside.  All she can do is offer a confused expression in return before.  

   Sunlight splashes off Rhaenyra’s pale skin as they stand on the busy boardwalk, half-blinding Alicent.  She breaks away from her friend’s grasp with a jerk of her arm.  Rhaenyra turns back and Alicent says with a short laugh,    

   “What the hell was all that?”  She poses the question in a friendly way but doesn’t hide her bewilderment from the odd interaction.  She had never seen such an awkward, stiff conversation from Rhaenyra before.  

   “We… dated for a couple of months,” Rhaenyra admits.  “But it wasn’t a serious thing.”  

   “What, when was this?”  Rhaenyra tells me everything .  Why would she keep him a secret?  

   “While you were back in Oldtown.”  Oh .  Alicent’s expression sours.  Mama .  She feels a knot forming in her stomach, weighing her down as her thoughts put words in Rhaenyra’s mouth.  She wants to puke.    

   “Why didn’t you mention it when I came back?  Boyfriends are usually worth mentioning,” she says.  The friendliness is notably gone from her tone now.  

   “I don’t know… Slipped my mind?”  Alicent gives her a disbelieving expression, tilting her head.  Rhaenyra sighs.  “He’s a nice boy and we were hanging out a lot anyway; his dad is friends with mine, yeah?  I thought there was a spark, but… we weren’t the fit I thought we were.”  

   “That’s it?”  It can’t be.  A flurry of images crosses her mind and she shivers with disgust.  She pictures Laenor’s soft hands all over Rhaenyra, and hers on him.  Their lips touching, her head resting on his chest.  I can’t stand to think of you in the arms of anyone else.  To think their fingers brushed against your flawless skin and got tangled in your white hair, it’s torture.  Boys always lick their lips like hungry beasts when they look at you.  But you’re more than a lamb to the slaughter to me.  I wish you’d take me, feed me, eat me .  Rhaenyra looks ashamed, embarrassed, and a different thought grows in Alicent’s mind.  Did he hurt her?   But before she could ponder it anymore, Rhaenyra speaks up.

   “He’s… a queer, all right?  I realized maybe two months in that he was in love with his ‘best friend’ and not me.  I wasn’t going to be his beard.  It wasn’t fair to me and it’s not fair to him.”

   “I see,” Alicent says, relief washing over her in an instant.  “That was probably the best thing.”  

   “Yeah,” Rhaenyra says.  “Don’t, like, tell people.  He really is a nice boy and I’m not sure he’s… comfortable with himself yet.  It’s not exactly cool to be like that, y’know?”  Yeah, I know .  

   “My lips are sealed.”  Alicent pinches two fingers together and drags them across her lips.  Changing the topic, she says, “So how about that ice cream place?”  Rhaenyra brightens in an instant.

   “It’s a brilliant idea for such a hot day!  Come.”  And with that, Rhaenyra has her hand around Alicent’s wrist again and pulls her along.  There’s something desperate in the way Rhaenyra clings to Alicent. 

   Laenor had been right, the ice cream shop wasn’t terribly far away.  But although Alicent expected to stop in a similar-sized building to Just Seahorsing Around, they instead find themselves at a small stand on the boardwalk.  An older woman greets them, telling them to take their time deciding what they want.  The girls thank her.  Alicent squints at the stand’s menu, frowning as she reads through the ‘unique’ options.  Peanut butter and chocolate chip?  Mint pistachio?  Cookies and cream and strawberry?  Lazy creativity, she thinks.  She glances at Rhaenyra who seems more delighted with the choices.  She rolls her eyes, smiling.  At least there are still normal flavors for me.  

   After a few minutes, Alicent orders a medium cup of regular mint chocolate chip.  She thanks the woman again when she is handed the food and a plastic spoon.  Rhaenyra hums, still eyeing the menu as Alicent takes a small bite.  It’s frigid!   She nearly spits her bite out, worrying it will aggravate her sensitive molar.  She holds the bite on her tongue, letting it melt and run down her throat.  I’ll let it warm a little before I have another bite, she thinks.

   “I’ll have, uh, a peanut butter— wait, no.  How about a… Actually, just a double scoop of the cookie dough.  In a waffle cone, please,” Rhaenyra says.

   “Sure thing, kiddo,” the woman replies.  She passes the cone to Rhaenyra and plops two generous scoops of ice cream on top.  They pay separately and walk further down the boardwalk.  Their chatter is nothing special.  

Did you hear the Triarchy’s new song?  

Yeah!  It was on the radio last night.  Even Gwayne said he liked it.  

It was bitchin’.  I wish Whyte Wyrm would come around, I’d kill to see ‘em live.

Maybe I’ll visit and take you to the concert when they come to the Vale.

I’d love that.  

   As they talk, Rhaenyra begins to scout out an area on the beach for them to set up.  Their arms are interlocked, the two girls now walking side-by-side without care in the world.  All the morose thoughts, all the negativity, had vanished.  She’s in a true state of bliss… until she hears it.  Alicent’s chest tightens as a wolf whistle pierces through the air behind them.  She wishes she could drop her food and cover herself up.  She wants to run away and hide from predatory eyes.  She never shows so much of her body, she knows it was a mistake.  

   As if sensing Alicent’s distress, or acting out of her own fury, Rhaenyra whips around to face the whistler.

   “Hey!” Nyra shouts.  Alicent musters up the courage to look back, too.  She’s shocked to see two boys significantly younger than herself perched on the wooden rail of the boardwalk.  Their backs are to the beach, feet swinging below them.  They are an odd couple, to be sure.  She first eyes the one with dark, greased-back hair and a yellow button-down shirt.  He is a large person, comically so compared to his friend.  His friend, the closer of the two and the whistler if his smirk was any giveaway, is easily a third of his weight.  He had sandy hair that was in desperate need of trimming as the bangs were more like curtains for his eyes.  Neither looks old enough to be in high school, but people seem to retain their youth longer nowadays.  Gwayne is almost seventeen, she thinks, and he still has baby fat in his cheeks.  Regardless of their age, they’re too young to be acting like creepy old men.  

   Rhaenyra smirks at Alicent, mischief sparkling in her eyes yet again, and chucks her ice cream cone at the closest boy.  It hits him square in the face, covering his face, hair, and the collar of his tee.  Ice cream drips from his bangs onto his pants and shoes.  He blinks through the food before wiping the rest out of his eyes.  Alicent’s mouth drops open as the second boy guffaws, slapping his friend’s back.  The first boy, his clothes now saturated in Rhaenyra’s frozen treat, growls at the other.  He lunges for the dark-haired boy, tackling him to the ground.  Alicent watches as he drives his fists into his gut over and over again.  Left, right .  Left, right .  Left, right .  The boy on the ground tries his best to block the hits with his arms, grunting as he fights off his small attacker.  She can’t help but compare them to a pissed-off Chihuahua on top of an adult Pittie.

   “Willie, knock it off!  Willie!  Stop!” the bigger boy says between punches.

   “Don’t call me Willie, Jerry !”

   “Fuck you!  You know that’s my dog’s name!”  

   “Aw, named after the dog, boo hoo hoo.”

    Rhaenyra cackles, invariably proud of the chaos she causes.  She takes Alicent’s wrist and draws her away from the ridiculous scene.  They jump off the boardwalk, landing on the sand of the crowded beach.  Rhaenyra doesn’t let go until they find a spot far enough away that neither girl can still see the boys.

   Giggling, Alicent says, “I can’t believe you did that!”

   “Can’t you?”  Her smile falters a bit, seeing a strange glint in Rhaenyra’s violet eyes.  She pushes the subconscious question aside and laughs again.

   “Of course.  It would be unlike you not to cause a mess.”  The strangeness vanishes from her friend’s features as she laughs.  “But now you’ve wasted your ice cream.”

   “It’s all right,” Rhaenyra says, but Alicent knows Rhaenyra wanted the food more than she did.

   “Here.”  Alicent holds out her cup.  “I’ve got more than I can eat.”  Rhaenyra grabs the spoon and takes a modest bite. “Have more than that,” Alicent says with a small laugh.  They take turns with the spoon, Alicent eating much less than her friend.  Before long the girls empty the paper cup, both satisfied.  Alicent tosses the trash in a nearby garbage can like she had seen the guys at high school practice do a thousand times before.  Rhaenyra holds up ten fingers. 

   “A perfect score!” she says.

   “You’re not playing favorites, are you?” Alicent asks with a smug grin.

   “Absolutely not.  I can’t help that the cutest player is also the best.”  Another smile.  Rhaenyra suggests they find a spot on the beach to sunbathe for a while.  As they start scouting, Alicent stops.  

   “Shit.”

   “What?”

   “We forgot to buy sunscreen.  I’ll run back —”

   “Nah, we don’t need it.”   

   “You sure?”

   “Fire cannot kill a dragon.”  Rhaenyra winks.  But I’m not a dragon, Alicent thinks.  Rhaenyra touches her arm, turns, and takes off further down the beach.  Sand kicks up behind her feet like fireworks.  “C’mon!” she calls back.  Alicent watches the sunlight bounce off Rhaenyra’s blonde hair as it dances after her in the wind.  Such impossible beauty.   Her hair must be spun from a spool of silver-gold thread.  Alicent shakes herself out of her daze and follows after Rhaenyra.  When she finally stops running, Alicent realizes how isolated they are.  She can’t see anybody else around, just the sand and the splashing waves.  It’s their private piece of land, for all intents and purposes.  She smiles.  

   “Here?” Rhaenyra asks.

   “Sure, why not?”  It’ll be nice to have the privacy , she thinks.  Rhaenyra drops the tote bag down on the ground and pulls out their towels.  Alicent takes her black and gold striped towel and lays it down over the hot sand.  Rhaenyra does the same, setting hers hardly an inch from Alicent’s.  Sitting down on the towel, she pops off her flip-flops and sets them next to her in the sand.  Both girls lie down on their backs, adjusting to achieve maximum comfort.  Alicent stretches her arms over her head, resting one arm on her forehead and the other on the towel.  She crosses one ankle over the other and steals a quick glance at Rhaenyra.  Her arms are lying still by her sides and her legs are positioned like thin, white mountains, knees to the sky.  Alicent closes her eyes, focusing on her breathing.  If she’s lucky, she’ll get a little nap.   

   She isn’t sure how much time has passed when Rhaenyra’s voice startles her awake.  

   “This is really pleasant,” Rhaenyra says with a sigh.  “We needed this.  It’s not too long now before I leave.”  Alicent’s eyes crack open and she moves her arms down beside her.

   “Do we have to think about you leaving?” she asks, her voice low.  My whole world will change when I can’t see you every day.

   “You’re right, it’s not a happy subject.”  Rhaenyra turns her head to look at Alicent.  “Hey, I’m sorry I brought it up.”  She goes quiet but only for a second.  “Want me to make it up to you?”

   “Is that not what today is?”  Rhaenyra smiles.

   “Partly,” she says as she rolls onto her side, propping her head up with an arm.  

   “Oh?  How else will you make it up to me?” Alicent asks, smirking.  

   “Like… this …”  Alicent feels Rhaenyra’s hand sneak across her bare stomach and slip under the hem of her swim bottoms.  She freezes and so does Nyra’s hand.  The two girls make eye contact, and a silent agreement is made.  Is this real? Alicent thinks as Rhaenyra’s middle finger glides over her soft, dry clit.  It rubs back and forth, massaging gently.  Alicent’s breathing starts to deepen and she speads her legs.  She watches her breasts rise and fall as Rhaenyra’s movements grow in intensity.  

   “I love a shaved pussy,” Rhaenyra says under her breath.  Her thumb rubs against the hairless mons venus as her index and middle finger continue to work Alicent’s swollen clit.  Moisture spreads over her lips and spills down her cheeks, collecting at the bottom of her swimsuit.  Never had she been so thankful for dark clothes before.  She can feel the burning pressure building inside of her, the heat promising an explosive orgasm.  Her right leg quivers and she rolls her hips as Rhaenyra plays her like an instrument.  She hears the panting and the moans coming from her own mouth.  Rhaenyra kisses her flat stomach and she cums.  

   If she could think coherently, she might have been embarrassed she came so quickly.  She might have worried someone might see them.  But she can’t think straight, not when it started and certainly not now.  Her head is empty as her body buzzes with pleasure.  Rhaenyra leaves another kiss on her stomach and pulls her hand out of Alicent’s swimsuit.  Nyra smiles, staring up at Alicent, and sucks on her fingers.  

   “Delicious,” she says.  Both giggle softly.  Alicent turns on her side to face Rhaenyra.  They stay like that for a time, Alicent isn’t sure how long, just looking at each other.  Rhaenyra’s violet eyes seem to glow, saying everything her mouth isn’t.  But what was the ultimate experience, the very thing Alicent secretly dreamed about every night, makes their situation that much harder.  Rhaenyra will leave for the Vale and leave Alicent behind.  She’ll cry and pray to see her at every possible opportunity.  Yet, it can’t soften the sting of separation.  

   Rhaenyra’s eyebrows press together.  “Hey,” she says.  “I hate to see you in this mood.  Why not liven up and party?  Just the two of us, right here.”

   “Okay,” Alicent agrees, smiling.  As long as she’s here, she knows Rhaenyra will care for her.  She has to treasure and make the most of the limited time they have left.  

   “I’m gonna get us some booze.”  Alicent nods and Rhaenyra takes off towards the boardwalk.  She lies back down on her towel, closes her eyes, and waits.

[cryptid-pet]

Azushin Mermaid AU Headcanons I Created at the Bottom of the Ocean Part II

Note: This is gonna feature other stuff and WON’T ONLY focus on Azusa AND Shin left alone. This is more informative details actually so ALSO keep that in mind

The vibrant colors of merman and mermaids are what make them the MOST unique

ALMOST can blend in with sea life (Coral, sponges, plants with wide variety of colors)

Yuma is the only Mukami with a slight tear in his tail >>> Towards the end

Any jewelry (For humans AND the Mukamis) are made from any pearls, deep sea gold, and other raw materials fresh from the source

The hardest material to find for the Hunter Brothers to produce a product is mostly gold considering the requirement of going deep down

This is pretty obvious but will be listed either way as The Mukami’s tail colors

Azusa >>> Light blue gradient w//faint pink

Yuma >>> Retro Orange w//faint red

Kou >>> Magenta (Sorta Like a hot pink) gradient w//faint turquoise

Hi I don’t know if this is a real fish, someone let me know but this is EXACTLY what I pictured 😭

Ruki >>> Honestly, it appears to be black depending on lighting and the highlights the sunlight, but there’s some silver//grey tinted everywhere

I really can’t see greens or blue on him so you can easily ignore that here

Kou and Ruki are the only ones who have a ALMOST translucent canal tails and move pretty much elegantly with the flow of water- This also means their tails are worth more money compared to Yuma’s or Azusa’s

A lot of smaller fish and crustaceans like to follow Azusa for no reason home, but isn’t allowed to be kept as pets

Justin is a conch, Melissa is a shell, and Christina is a star fish (The one Azusa wears actually)

The way Azusa got himself invested into the surface (Outside of his brothers) is from finding stuff//junk you’d typically would have in your house

Azusa once came home with a beer bottle and accidentally smashed it when Kou said “Toss it here, lemme see!”

Another time, Azusa brought back this tire when he was given permission from Yuma to be additional help finding any goods beyond where they normally go

Only Ruki and Kou know what human items are, but can sometimes confused them for something else (Little Mermaid moment when Arial used the for as a comb, it’s technically like that)

None of the brothers other than Ruki can read English properly, they can make out some words (Because books don’t exist in the ocean lmao)

There was a time where all four went down deeper than the normal deep blue water and stumbled across a piece of a ship that had text on it (Like maybe the company of who made the ship or whatever)

None of them could make out HALF of the word written

“Heyoo…Heyuu…Hy…”

“It says Hyundai, Azusa”

“I don’t get it…”

“Hyun what?”

“Hyunadadadadadad-“

“We’re heading back”

Faint knowledge of current events are given by either going to the surface OR finding new palates that have been trashed into sea

Because the Hunter Brothers are popular, a lot of newspapers will mention them but NEVER will provide a photograph for personal reasons

There is however one reason Carla is willing to hunt for creatures that are cryptic like: To find a solution to his illness (I’m not gonna say if there is a cure or not, I’ll leave that for y’all to decide)

Shin doesn’t EVER get asked why he wears an eyepatch and goes with the rumor if it being a “Worthy hunter” aesthetic

The first time Azusa has seen Shin was when Kou took him up to fresh air for once

Shin didn’t notice Azusa and Azusa couldn’t tell if he was glad or upset (Again, Azusa has never seen a human before so Shin is the first- I’ll go more on this in part three about this)

None of the Mukamis can write due to not exactly having the materials or ability to do so (Unless you really wanna see Kou tackle a octopus for ink because Yuma says learning to write is bullshit and refused to help)

Ruki has a random collection of sand dollars

The only times Kou sings is if he’s trying to catch the attention of animals such as dolphins or females humans up on the surface (He likes to pretend he’s human and makes up a silk story how he lives in a submarine despite not knowing what one is)

Kou’s jewel eye is actually a mystical pearl from the deepest part of the ocean, he can’t remember where or how he got it implanted in his socket (But you can’t tell it’s fake unless it turns red)

Yuma ONCE got caught in a net and was under there for maybe two hours (It wasn’t a place trap or anything, it was casually hangout lol)

The worst time to go out of home for the Mukamis is at night because that’s where Carla and Shin do MAJORITY of their hunting on water

The only one who had a little tiiiinyyyy encounter with the Hunter Brothers was Kou after an attempt to allure some females on land (It wasn’t something bad like a sudden conversation struck out, but Kou clearly gave Shin a side eye)

Thunderstorms is like heaven for the Mukamis because they KNOW Shin and Carla will go in the water, but WON’T travel as far out

[1/4] [3/4] [4/4] [Caruki Addition]

[thecookieverse]

Orange Velvet Cookie is Red Velvet's sister, and like him, she's half cake monster. She used to be part of the cake monster army as her brother's second in command. Like her brother, she believes that cake monsters are worthy of life and should be allowed to live in harmony with cookies. 

However, she doesn't believe it should be done through hostile takeover, instead through compassion, understanding, and comradery. The reason for this change came from a chance encounter with some cookies while out on a mission. One of these cookies was Rose Water Cookie, who, she ends up falling in love with. Touched by the kindness of him and the other cookies, she decided to leave the Cookies of Darkness and venture out into the big wide world of Earthbread.

She became at odds with her brother because of this, Red Velvet did try to convince her to stay (out of fear of what Dark Enchantress and the others will do to her if she stepped out of line and how other cookies would react to her half cake monster appearance.) but it was futile, she and Pound Cake Cookie left, taking her cake hound pet, Flambé with her.

Despite that, she and her brother carry no ill will towards each other, even if they're at a crossroads. They don't want to hurt each other, nor stand in the way of each other's goals and happiness.

Orange Velvet's weapon is a cake server, which as like a lance.

Lore

She is Red Velvet Cookie's sister

She still writes to her brother every other week to let him know she's alright. 

Pound Cake Cookie was (and still kinda is) her bodyguard.

Relationship Chart

Red Velvet Cookie (Family, Brother) "Flambe, Pound Cake, and I are alright, hope the same can be said on your end."

Pound Cake Cookie (Friendly) "We will always be cake monsters...and that's good"

Rose Water Cookie (Love, Boyfriend) "Without him, my life would've been so different...and quite bleaker."

Soft Serve Cookie (Friendly) "Thanks for standing by me...must've been hard to let her go though..." 

Slushie Cookie (Friendly) "His bravado has colored me impressed...and concerned " 

Cherry Cola Cookie (Friendly)- "You, him, and the others are proof our species can live in harmony, glad to see that." 

Pastry Cookie (Tension)- "You. Stay away from me AND my brother!"  Dark Choco Cookie (Trust) "Proud of you dude, go out there and life your best life."

Dark Enchantress Cookie (Tension) "You thought you were my guide, but you were only in my way..." 

Pomegranate Cookie (Tension) "I do care for them! I just think we can do things differently..." 

Appears on Relationship Charts

Red Velvet Cookie (Family) "So happy to see you're alright. Things are...tense on our end."

Pound Cake Cookie (Friendly) "We'll never be complete cookies...and that's not bad." 

Rose Water Cookie (Love) "My precious sun shining on my beautiful roses. I could dance with her all day." 

Soft Serve Cookie (Friendly) "Cake monster or not, you'll always be my friend. No one can say otherwise."

Slushie Cookie (Friendly) "Fun to rap battle against! Who knew she was such a good singer?"

Cherry Cola Cookie (Friendly) "Everyone deserves love, even exes and cake monsters." 

Dark Enchantress Cookie (Tension) "I gave you new life...and this is how you repay me?"

Pomegranate Cookie (Tension) "And I thought you cared for the cake monsters..."