#it's just that I saw this couple at school wearing almost this exact outfit combo and I can only think of Klance

[vee-is-a-clown]

Pidge when Keith and Lance show up to school late on Valentine's Day:

[imagine-the-fanfics]

Memorized Words

Characters: College AU! Aragorn x Fem!reader

Tags: @entishramblings

Warnings: smut

A/n: this might become a series. I’m unsure, but we’ll see. Might be a series of stand alones in the same setting. I’m not sure because I have wisps of ideas, but I don’t know that I have enough to make a full-blown series. Ya know?

You first met him a month ago.

You were a new freshman, fresh off a gap year with a full ride scholarship in your pocket. Adjusting to the large campus from your small town was daunting. You hadn’t exactly been popular in high school, but you were friends with almost everyone. No one had really loved you, but no one had really hated you, either. Still, making friends was difficult.

Trying to make friends with classmates went about as well as you’d hoped. None of the “friends” you’d made were interested in anything other than sharing notes and homework answers. When you saw the signs for something called “Org Smorg”, described as a smorgasbord of student organizations attempting to recruit new members. What was a better idea than joining clubs to make friends?

You were overwhelmed with the number of organizations there, but so many interested you. One was part of the people in charge of planning campus events, including the concerts. This semester some famous singer you’d heard about but never listened to was coming, as well as your favorite spoken word poet, Blythe Baird. You decided not to get involved with that one since you worried it would take up too much time. A production team club was planning to film a short film, so you gave them your information for when they had the details figured out. Alternate theatre and some other clubs ended up in your schedule.  

It was a knight in armor that caught your eye. He was short, spoke with what you thought was a Scottish accent, talking about if the lemonade really was historically accurate since they hadn’t used the exact ingredients needed. Another man, tall and blonde assured him it didn’t really matter, and that it was close enough. He was wearing some sort of elaborately embroidered tunic and trousers, boots nearly to his knees. The third man, a scruffy man shook his head and smiled to himself.

The video that was being played caught your attention. You recognized the blonde man as he posed in what appeared to be holding a fencing helmet in one hand and a sword in the other. He was smiling next to a much older gentleman with a grand outfit, similar to what you saw kings wear in those period movies you liked to watch. You watched as the screen shifted to a fight of a short man, you assumed the man in armor since it looked like the same outfit, fighting with another person. It shifted to a video of something called The Pennsic War, according to the subtitle, with a date from last year added after. Two groups of people met on what you assumed was a battlefield. The screen shifted again—

“Greetings, fair lady,” the dark-haired man said with a slight bow and smile. “Interesting stuff, isn’t it?”

“Hey,” you greeted in return, giving an awkward wave in response. “It’s… Something. What am I looking at?”

The man explained every photograph, the blond man joining as well as the short man, his helmet removed and his red hair and beard exposed.

“That’s me,” the man said proudly, beaming at the screen. “That was a good fight.”

The trio spent the next two hours explaining the group they were representing. The Society of Creative Anachronism, or SCA for short, was essentially a medieval LARPing group.

“It’s like taking the best parts of everything that occurred during the 1600s and before to modern times, while leaving the bad parts – like the plague and misogyny – behind,” the man named Aragorn said with pride. “You said you liked period movies and Dungeons and Dragons, right? I think this group would be a good fit for you.” He gave you a flyer with different dates and meetings listed. “Legolas is going to be teaching fencing—”

“I can’t teach heavy fighting on campus,” Gimli complained. “You’ll have to come to an off-campus meeting to learn that.”

“Only if you’re comfortable; there’s no obligation to do anything,” Aragorn assured, his smile was charming and inviting, and you agreed to go to some meetings on campus to see if it was something you were interested in. “That’s great! Our next meeting is a potluck, but you don’t need to bring anything—Well, maybe a hungry stomach,” he joked. You laughed and he grinned.

The potluck was full of medieval food – sausages, bread, drinks, meat, soups – and some modern food, like Oreos and some crackers and cheese. The next meeting, Legolas started teaching you fencing, and Aragorn told stories, played a lute, and sang old songs. A complete surprise to you, Gimli worked on some illumination, fancy decoration on some scrolls that were for the baron of the area. He didn’t seem the type, but he enjoyed it.

You learned so much about them all during those meetings. Aragorn was a psychology major, minoring in plant biology. He was considering switching them as a major/minor combo, but he wasn’t sure. Legolas was a computer studies major, with linguistics as a secondary major. His minors included various languages. Gimli was an international student from Wales, majoring in history and minoring in art. He complained about people thinking he was Scottish frequently. These people were so surprising and endearing, and they quickly became your closest friends despite the age difference you brought to the table.

They learned about how you left your small town out of desperation to get away from your small town and your overbearing parents. Things had been hard, but you were granted a full ride scholarship that had been saved for the couple of years you had to take off of school. You were able to focus on your studies, which you were thankful for, but that you were still worried for your grades. Aragorn offered to study with you, since your schedules met up so perfectly and you agreed.

~~**~~

The four of you sat around a fire pit in Legolas’ parents’ backyard. Apparently, they were loaded. You couldn’t remember exactly what they did, something about being a politician or ambassador or something. He lived on campus during the week, but went home on the weekends, even though he only lived about 10 minutes from campus.

The house, if you could call it that, was massive. The backyard had a pool house, a full sized pool inside. It was the size of a two story house for a family, and you’d been told it had three bedrooms. There was a tennis and basketball court a short walk away from the fire pit. If there was any doubt about how loaded this family was, it was gone now.

Aragorn was playing his guitar, singing softly as Gimli drank beer. He tried to talk you into drinking, and you respectfully declined. Eventually, Legolas told Gimli to knock it off and Gimli stopped pestering you, though he grumbled.

“Do you play?” Aragorn asked.

“Like sports? Not really. I enjoy tennis and volleyball casually, though,” you replied.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I meant instruments.”

“Oh, not really. My brother tried to teach me guitar, but I never learned. I’ve been trying to learn how to play kalimba, but I’m not good at it.”

“What’s a kalimba?” Gimli asked.

“It’s a thumb piano that sounds like a music box.”

“That sounds lovely,” Legolas said with a smile.

“Maybe next time you can play it for us,” Aragorn suggested. “Do you sing?”

“I’m not good at it,” you admitted, looking at the fire.

“I disagree,” Legolas chimed in. “I heard you before I arrived at the last meeting.”

“I’ll judge it for myself,” Aragorn said, continuing to strum random notes on his guitar. “What do you want to sing? I know a lot of songs, old and new.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate. “Jenny of Oldstone?”

“From Game of Thrones?” Aragorn asked, starting to play it softly. You nodded. “I think I remember how to play it.”

“That sounds right,” Legolas said. Gimli leaned back in his chair.

Gimli frowned as he realized he was out of beer. He opened the cooler and cursed when he saw it was empty, and stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he announced, “don’t start without me.” He made his way back into the house with the cooler.

“How much can that man drink?” You asked, amazed.

“A lot,” Legolas and Aragorn said in unison. Aragorn chuckled and shook his head.

“I guess you have time to warm up, if you want.” Aragorn was still smiling as he looked at you.

“I’m not sure how,” you admitted shyly, looking into the fire.

“I’ll teach you.” and Aragorn did just that. The two

you sang tongue twisters and scales.

By the time Gimli was back, you and Aragorn had finished.

“Didn’t start without me, did ya?” Gimli asked.

“Nope!” You smiled at him. “Aragorn helped me warm up. Gimli hummed in approval and you looked to Aragorn. “Should we start?” You asked.

He nodded and started to play. He stumbled on a note, surprised by the quality of your voice. He quickly recovered, focusing on his attention on the movement of his fingers against the neck of the guitar. You were embarrassed, but you still sang without issue.

Gimli clapped as you finished. “Sing something else!”

“Leave her be,” Aragorn sighed before turning to you. “You sing beautifully. Why don’t you think so?”

“Just been told that a few times too many to think otherwise,” you said with a shrug, looking into the fire.

“Bastards,” Gimli stated simply. “Liars and bastards.”

You smiled, not saying anything.

“If she won’t sing then you should,” Gimli said to Aragorn.

“Alright, let me think.” Aragorn looked up at the stars, to you, and then into the fire. “Got it,” he said before tuning the guitar. “I just started learning this one, though.”

“Oh?” Legolas looked to you as if figuring out a puzzle.

“I memorized all the words for you, but if you only knew how much that’s just not like me.” You shivered, you’d heard Aragorn sing before, but this was different. “I wait up late every night just to hear your voice, but you don’t know that’s nothing like me.”

It reminded you of those nights when you would call him, unable to sleep. He’d tell you a story until you were about to crash. You’d say goodnight, wondering what he had stayed up until 1 am, but dismissed it as him working on his schoolwork.

Legolas watched you, sipping a beer he’d just gotten from Gimli. You felt like you were being judged, and mildly ganged up on. You had a feeling what was happening, but you were terrified of being wrong.

”I want to make sure everything is perfect for you. If you only knew that's not like me to follow through. Maybe even give up all these dead end dreams just to be with you, but you don't know that's nothing like me.” His voice was rough but tender, gentle yet soft. There was some kind of yearning, some kind of heartache, in his voice as he sang.

You wanted him to be singing about you, though you weren’t entirely sure why. It was strange. You’d had crushes in the past, but this felt different. You’d thought it was close friendship, but now you were realizing that wasn’t the case.

“Just when I thought all was lost,” Aragorn’s eyes were glued to you as he sang, “you came and made it all okay.”

You damn near swooned and he returned his gaze to the neck of his guitar. Legolas watched you carefully, sipping his beer. Gimli, oblivious, watched Aragorn, finishing his beer.

The song ended and Legolas looked to Aragorn and then to Gimli before back to Aragorn.

“Mind watching the fire? It looks like it’s about done, and I’m tired. Gimli and I are tired—“

“I’m not tired,” Gimli interrupted.

“Regardless, we’re going inside. I’ll let you have some of my expensive whiskey.”

“The $300 stuff?” Gimli’s eyes were sparkling.

“Sure, but let’s get inside quickly.”

“I’ll help clean up,” you said, standing.

“No, that’s alright. It can wait until morning.” Legolas stood up, and Gimli followed him into the mansion.

The only sounds were the crickets, cackling of the fire, and Aragorn’s guitar. Fifteen minutes of this and the fire was dying. You didn’t realize you were shivering until Aragorn spoke up.

“Are you okay? You’re shivering.”

“I guess I’m a bit cold,” you admitted.

“Come here then,” he suggested, patted next to him on the bench.

His guitar was placed on the stone floor and he shrugged off his leather jacket, draping it around you when you took the spot next to him. He put an arm around you, pulling you closer.

Aragorn smelled of leather and patchouli, trees and dirt and grass, and it was comforting. You scooted as close to him as you could, his warmth so nice.

Silence loomed, but it was as comfortable as it was terrifying. There was so much you wanted to say, but couldn’t muster the courage until the fire was out.

“We should go inside,” Aragorn muttered, petting your head as you leaned against his chest.

“Can I ask you a question first?” You looked up at him but realized you didn’t have a good view, so you leaned away from him.

“Sure, ask away.” Aragorn looked nervous and relaxed at the same time, though you had never seen that combination before.

“That song…” You couldn’t finish it.

“I like you, Y/n. I like you a lot, actually.” He looked into the fire, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “That first night you called because you couldn’t sleep, I was asleep and woke up to you calling me—“

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you muttered, pulling his jacket around you tighter.

“No, it’s alright,” he assured. “I started staying awake later in case you called again. A few days of that and that song came on the radio and I realized that I had feelings for you, so I started to learn it.” He grabbed the poker and adjusted the embers, helping them go out. “And then I realized I’ve never learned a song for anyone except my ex, and now you.”

You didn’t know what to say, and he took your silence as an invitation to continue.

“I saw you at Org Smorg and wanted to you win you over and bring you into the SCA so I could keep seeing you. I was so excited when you showed up at the first meeting. When you said you were worried about your grades, I saw an opportunity and offered to form a study group. I’ve never studied with someone else before, but it was a chance to see you more.”

More silence.

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have told you this—“

You cut him off with a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Don’t apologize. I’ve got a dumb schoolgirl crush on you, too. Have for a while, just didn’t realize it until tonight.”

Aragorn just stared at you in shock, so you kissed him again, one hand snaking around his neck, the other still holding his jacket over your shoulders. He kissed you back, and it deepened, getting more needy and intense. There was an urgency in it that caught you off guard, and you were surprised when you realized you had initiated that step.

One hand wrapped around your back, the other played with the bottom hem of your tank top before rubbing down your body and resting on your exposed thigh. You shivered at the gentle touch.

“Still cold?” Aragorn murmured against your lips.

“Yeah. Mind if we go inside?” You asked.

“Sure.” You could tell Aragorn was disappointed, but the fact he wasn’t going to pressure you into anything tonight made your heart palpitate.

He stood up, offering a hand to help you up. You graciously accepted it, making your way into the mansion. Neither of you had let go of the others hand, so you held hands until you got to the door. He opened the door for you, and then followed you inside.

You kissed him again, one hand on his neck and the other on his chest. His jacket fell to the floor, but he didn’t seem to care. One hand held the back of your head, the other resting on your waist.

“Can you walk me to my room?” You asked, breathless from the kiss. “I don’t remember where it is.”

Aragorn blinked for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, sure. This place is huge and it’s easy to get lost.” His brow furrowed, and he looked confused.

Every so often, your lips would meet his. Both of you were guilty of initiating; both of you were guilty of wanting more. You had no idea where he was leading you. Simply put, the feeling of his lips against yours, the warmth of his body, his hands on your waist, the smell of him coaxing you into a feeling you hadn’t felt in so long, made it impossible to make a map of this place in your mind. The longing for more was unrelenting, making your heart race in your chest.

At some point, you found yourself against a wall, his knee between your legs and his lips to your neck. He used one hand to brace against the wall while the other ran from your waist to your hip to your thigh, sliding under your skirt  as it traveled up your thigh again. Your breath hitched when his fingers grazed the little bit of fabric that rested on your hip.

“Is this alright?” He asked, lust dripping from his words. You looked into his eyes, seeing just how much he was holding back -- the opposite of what you wanted him to do in this moment.

“Yes.” It came out as a gasp. You hadn’t realized you were panting until his lips were on your neck again. As if it had a mind of its own, your head tilted to the side, exposing your neck to him.

His lips found their way to yours once more, the hand that had been caressing your body slowly running up your side, cupping your breast before continuing up your body until it finally came to rest on your neck. Your hips rocked against him, one hand on his lower back trying to pull him closer and the other hand on his shoulder, moving to the back of his neck.

“We should--” He was panting, trying to catch his breath and focus. “We should get you to your room.”

“Join me?” You asked, breathless still.

“I shouldn’t,” Aragorn took your hands in his and took a step back, bringing your hands to his lips. “You need to rest.”

“Please change your mind before we get there.” You looked at him, wanting nothing more than to drop to your knees and satisfy him that way if you could not have him the way you wanted him.

He smiled softly, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I mean it, Aragorn,” you assured, pressing your hips to his again. “I want you, and I know you want me, too.” You moved your hands from his grip and rested them on his chest, pressing your lips to his neck.

Instinctively, he braced against the wall again, his leg between your thighs. Your hips had a mind of their own, and started to rock on his thigh, looking for any ounce of friction that could bring satisfaction.

“Are you a virgin?” He asked.

“What?” You couldn’t seem to focus.

“I don’t want this to be your first time. I want it to be special for you.”

“I’ve known a man before,” you sighed, biting your lip and closing your eyes. “Now I want to know you, too,” you breathed on to his neck, trying not to moan at the feeling of his thigh under you.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Aragorn was breathless, and the sound of it only made you want him more, need him more, “and decide from there.”

His lips crashed against yours once more, for the briefest moment, before he nuzzled into your neck. He took your hand, pulling you from the wall before dropping it. Quickly, he walked you to your room. As if it was ritual now, the two of you would end up against a wall, bodies pressed together, lips trying to devour each other.

By the time you made it to your room, there was no more restraint. The door slammed shut as you were pushed against it. You giggled at the sound, and Aragorn grinned, pressing a finger to his lips, eyes locked on yours.

“Shhh…” His forehead pressed against yours as he chuckled. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him. You were still giggling as he lowered you onto the bed, hovering over you. “How do you feel about oral?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only given it once.” It felt odd to admit it. No, you weren’t a virgin, but your experience with sex was limited. Your partner had been so vanilla the sex was almost boring, and you were already having more fun with Aragorn than you did with them.

“Only given it once?” Aragorn’s eyes sparkled with mischief, even though his eyes were darker with his lustful need. “Well then.”

The next thing you knew he was pushing your skirt up, bringing your hips to the edge of the bed, maneuvering your knees over his shoulders.

“Tell me if you want me to stop at any time, okay?” He wrapped his arms around the outside of your legs, his hands resting on your thighs.

Your breath hitched as he started to eat you out, stopping after a moment to push your panties to the side with one hand, the other still holding your leg in position. You felt him in places you didn’t know you could feel him in, and it felt divine.

You started to moan and you felt him chuckle against you. He lifted his head away, smiling at you for a moment before returning to what he was doing. You closed your eyes, one hand grabbing the comforter and the other covering your mouth. You’d never made sounds like these before, but you were too in the moment to think about it.

After what felt like not enough time, Aragorn sat back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, grining.

“You like that, don’t you?” He was grinning like a mad man, but all you could do was nod and whine. “You want me to keep going?” he asked. You nodded again, moving your body in an attempt to coax him back to you. “Alright, alright.”

He was between your legs again, holding your panties to the side with one hand while his other slipped a finger inside you. You covered your mouth with both hands, your back arching at the new sensation. He chuckled against you, continuing to work, slowly adding fingers, until he could feel you approaching your orgasm. He picked up the pace, eager to make you cum hard, and cum hard you did. No matter how hard you’d tried to stay quiet, the moan you let loose was surely heard around the mansion.

His eyes closed, his fingers slowed, letting you ride out the waves they’d caused. His tongue continued for the same reason. He listened to your moans and pants like they were his new favorite song. Once it was all over, he carefully set your legs down from his shoulders and wiped his mouth off again.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, kissing your knee.

“I--” It took a few moments for you to be able to think enough to speak. “Yes,” you said once you were finally able.

“I take it you enjoyed it, then?”

You looked at him, with his big, dumb, goofy grin that you’d seen so many times and looked back at the ceiling. “I did, but I--” You sighed, running your hands over your face to rub it. “I don’t want to stop there.”

“Why do we have to stop?” Aragorn asked, frowning.

“We don’t have condoms, and I’m not going to be able to blow you half as well as you ate me.”

“Well, you don’t have to do that on me, ever, unless you want to. Regardless of how ‘good’ you think you are, it doesn’t matter. All I care about is you being satisfied. If you’re not into something, you’re not into something.” You watched him as he talked. “As for condoms… There are some in the bedside table drawer.” You blinked, about to get upset when he continued. “They’re in all the rooms. Legolas host parties here sometimes while his parents are away. Things sometimes get.. Well. You know how it is at parties.”

You shook your head. You’d never been to the kind of party he was talking about.

“You don’t?” Aragorn seemed surprised. “I’ll have to take you to the next one, if you want to go, I mean. Like I said, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“No,” you said with a smile. “I’d like to do that. You know what else I’d like?”

“Hmm?” Aragorn hummed, kissing your thigh.

“For you to fuck me until I’m screaming your name.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Aragorn made quick work of getting you undressed, spending more time on pleasuring you than your last partner had. It made you feel cherished and adored and it made you embarrassed you weren’t doing the same for him. Aragorn was a giver, though, focused more on his partner’s pleasure than his own.

He trailed kisses up your belly, lifting your shirt as he went. By the time he reached your chest he was carefully pulling your shirt off. He kissed your chest, massaging your breasts before removing your bra and kissing those, too.

His mouth moved to your nipple and he suckled, kneading your other in his hand. His tongue flicked your nipple, and his other hand went from your breast down between your legs, sliding inside you once again. His pace was gentle, deliberate, until he curled his fingers and he moved faster. Increasing his pace until you were moaning. He moved to your other breast, curious if he could make you reach your orgasm with his mouth and hands once more.

Your hips started to move on their own, trying to quicken his pace, feel him deeper inside you. He obliged to the best of his abilities, only slowing down once he heard you moan and felt you pulsate around his fingers.

Aragorn pulled away from your breasts, watching you ride the waves of the pleasure he’d brought you. Once you were finished, he started to kiss your neck. Careful not to touch you with the fingers that had been inside you and were slick with your wetness. He got off the bed and you watched him, too spent to move at this point.

He grabbed a tissue from the table and wiped his fingers off, dropping the tissue onto the table for now, and grabbing a condom from the drawer and returning to the bed, kissing your neck as he undid his pants, pausing only to fully remove his clothing until he was as naked and exposed as you were.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Aragorn asked, returning to caress your face as he looked into your eyes.

“I do,” you murmured.

He kissed your neck more, pausing only to put the condom on and climb over you. Once again, he peppered kisses to your neck, slowly trailing and climbing up to your lips. The two of you kissed, comfortable and relaxed, but passionate still.

“Are you ready?” He growled against your lips, sending a shiver up your spine.

You nodded.

Aragorn positioned himself at your entrance, eyes locked on yours as he made his way inside. You gasped, an airy moan escaping you. A shiver crawled up his spine this time, and he gave you time to adjust.

You rested one hand on his back, the other on his shoulder. You dug your nails into his skin as he started to rock his hips, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder and neck — biting and suckling on the skin available.

The thrusts started slow, quickly picking up pace as you continued to adjust. He pulled away from your neck to look into your eyes. He was bracing himself with his hands on either side of you, but he shifted his weight to one so he could caress and hold your face, smiling at you as he continued to fuck you. You put a hand over his, struggling to stay quiet.

“You don’t have to stay quiet,” Aragorn assured softly. “I don’t care who hears, I want you to moan for me. I want you to—” He had to pause to groan himself. “You feel so good, Y/n.” Once he was refocused he continued what he was saying, “I want you to call my name. Let the whole world know who’s giving you pleasure tonight.”

Your hips were desperately trying to meet his, trying to force him deeper. He paused to pull out, grabbing your hips and dragging you to the edge of the bed again. He put your legs over his shoulders, aligned himself, and went back to work. You had tears in your eyes. It felt so good that you were already feeling a familiar coil in your belly.

“Aragorn,” you moaned, eyes closed. “You feel so good.”

“So do you,” he was panting, watching you as your face was smothered in pleasure. You couldn’t see it, but he was grinning, proud of himself for making you into this. “So perfect.”

“Aragorn, don’t stop,” you pleaded, hands gripping the sheets. “Go faster,” you whined, your hips bucking.

Aragorn obliged, he reached down, playing with your clit as he pounded into you. After a moment he’s topped and pulled out, and you looked at him in frustration.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded, eyes dark.

You did as you were told, and he entered you again. His hands took your hips, and slammed yourself against him. He thrust and pulled you to him, groaning.

You were all but screaming his name as he pounded into you, hitting deeper than you thought he could. After what felt like not long enough, the coil in your belly snapped and your vision tunneled. You moaned his name, collapsing and your head rested on the bedding, riding the waves of pleasure that were hitting you.

You pulsating around him was enough to push him over the edge and he groaned your name, thrusting a couple more times before he bent over you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled out, gently adjusting you so you weren’t on your knees anymore.

Aragorn was panting, watching you as you stared back at him, completely spent from your orgasms. He grinned, running a hand from his forehead and through his hair, pushing it back. After a moment he rolled onto his side, gently caressing your body. Your face, your side, your arms, your back — his caresses reached everywhere sighing reach.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked gently, his caresses back to your face.

“Only the good kind of hurt,” you admitted with a soft smile.

“I guess I shouldn’t apologize, should I?”

“No, you shouldn’t.” You closed your eyes, sighing. “I’m so tired.”

“I know, but you should at least use the restroom. I’ll get your pajamas from your bag for you, alright?” He patted your butt and sat up, chuckling as your eyes followed him but your body didn’t move. “Come on, I know you’re tired, but I don’t want you to get an infection.”

You sighed, realizing he was right, and you rolled onto your back. He leaned over, kissing your stomach. It was comforting and tender, and you realized you never wanted to be with anyone else, sexually or romantically. You wanted to be with Aragorn, and you wanted to stay with him.

He helped you up, making sure you eased yourself into standing and walking. He helped you to the bathroom before returning to the room. Some time later, he returned, holding your clothing in his hands. You felt like you needed a shower, and debated on taking a shower. Ultimately, you decided you wouldn’t, so you took your clothes from him and dressed in the bathroom. Stepping out and gently kissing him before making your way to the bedroom.

You were a bit bowlegged, but you had no complaints about that. It was so delightfully worth it, and a reminder of the pure bliss Aragorn had given you moments before. You collapsed on your bed, not moving.

You knew instinctively that the hands that were rubbing your back belonged to Aragorn, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling.

“You’re exhausted,” Aragorn observed quietly, moving some of your hair out of your face. “Let’s get you tucked into bed.” His voice was so soft and tender it made you want to cry.

He was being so gentle, and this was something you’d never experienced before. He pulled back the sheets as best he could before picking you up and gently putting you down so your head rested on the pillow. He kissed your forehead before pulling the rest of the sheets and blankets down and then pulling them over you.

He kissed your forehead again, muttered a “good night,” and started to move from the bed when you grabbed his arm. Aragorn looked back at you, surprised.

“Stay with me?” You asked softly, moments from sleep. “Please? Sleep next to me.”

Aragorn looked into your eyes, unsure what to do. After a moment he smiled gently.

“Sure, I’ll stay with you tonight.”

[simpsonssitcom]

Character Design (Pt. 1)

The Main Family

I want to preface this by saying I already wrote a post about the designs in this AU, but it was vague, uncertain, and most importantly, deleted by a tumblr glitch after a couple of days. This is an updated version of that. I also won’t put at many pictures; I’ll try to just name episodes and/or condense photos into a collage for a single character.

Anyways, this post is about changes to the design of the main family. Anything not addressed will remain the same. These will also only cover standard, present, everyday designs. Special clothes and flashback designs will be addressed as they come up.

Marge

Marge’s physical changes might be the least drastic. Her hair, still blue, will be one “head” smaller. By this I am referring to her pages in “The Simpsons Handbook: Secret Tips From The Pros.” Marge’s hair is broken into three sections: around her head, one head size above, and another head size above. Let’s level that down to only one “head” above. She’s not hiding rabbit ears anymore, we can do this. As for her outfit, I had a little trouble in deliberation, but I’ve decided on it mostly being the same, except her green dress has a sleeveless turtleneck on top like her orange peplum dress. This is mainly due to her job as a cashier now; her apron would look weird over a tube dress and I wanted her to have the same outfit at work (like how Homer wears a tie over his normal shirt at work). She has two bracelets like her early design (from her sisters) and still has her necklace. I considered maybe adding the flowers from her early design to her dress. After all, she has an art streak not just in painting but in sewing (think of her cute modifications to her pink Chanel outfit) and adding her own pattern onto the dress to “spice things up a bit” would be such a Marge thing. Still, I didn’t want to made her design too busy, and I also didn’t think flowers were super Marge. She’s more into classic looks and solid colors, I think.

Homer

Anyways, Homer’s shirt is pink now! I outlined a ton of reasons for my Homer outfit decision in the original post, but I’ll make it brief. It’s mostly that pink was a strong color in the early stages of the show, that Homer isn’t as aggressive in this AU, and that we know pink with blue (his jeans) is a good color combo on him from his outfit in Stark Raving Dad, his prom outfit, and his suit at Lisa’s wedding. Speaking of Lisa’s Wedding, his bodily appearance will closer resembling that of that episode. It’s only a five year timeskip so he won’t be too different (no eye wrinkles for example), but he’ll be more top heavy, his shoulders and neck getting larger to even out his pear shaped beer belly we have now. His hair will be deteriorating too, instead of a zig-zag on the sides, it’s just individual strands.

Maggie

The children will change the most, as obviously they are growing up. They’ll get taller and their hair will change too to better distinguish them. Maggie’s got fairly consistent hair in her future appearances: longer and parted with three spikes in front and 4-5 in back, depending on the episode. Her hair isn’t that long yet at 5, but it’s certainly parted already. Her face, to help distinguish her from Lisa, has a mouth more like (younger) Homer’s, with the curved upper lip.

So, I have something I’ve added as part of Maggie’s character which I’m only mentioning on this post because it helps inform her design. I am autistic and, although I know there’s a running gag in future episodes that she’s apparently talks a lot, here Maggie is nonverbal autistic. Anyways, I’m bringing this up because of my #1 favorite in-show future Maggie design choice: her pacifier necklace. You wanna know why? Stim jewelry. Now, Maggie has a necklace like Lisa or Marge, but hers only has one bead, and she sucks or chews on it sometimes to stim. Next, what do to about the onesie? I’d like to keep it something comfortable, maybe very loose, because that gag of Maggie constantly dripping over her own clothes can be kinda funny (so long as it doesn’t seriously hurt her, I never liked that trend of just tagging on characters for no reason) A blue sweater (looking like the top half of her onesie) and some bootcut jeans that are too long for her legs is essentially what I wore at that age, why can’t she do the same? All that matters is that she’s comfy.

Lisa

Okay, we gotta talk about Lisa’s dress. A middle school girl in a strapless dress? Has the world gone mad? Yes it has, but in the American public school system, that’s not gonna fly. So what do we do, put straps on her dress or give her a whole new outfit? After a lot of consideration, I decided on a skirt the same color as her dress (blood orange, or is it “fucking red”?) with the spiky bottom too, with a lavender polo. Why lavender? Well, Bart’s imagination in “O, Brother, Where Bart Thou?” gives us a good look at that color combo (complete with white neck accessory) on someone with the almost exact same features as Lisa. We also see Lisa’s dress with straps, which looks okay for adult Lisa, but there’s too much cleavage for what I’d consider putting on a thirteen year old.

In addition to getting taller, like all of the Simpsons children, Lisa’s hair is changing, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before. In a all her future appearances (much like Maggie, likely to help differentiate since they’re almost identical when grown), her hair is always styled one way: pushed back and down. But specifically I’m going to draw her hair design from, you guessed it, Lisa’s Wedding! What can I say, it’s just a good episode for character design... mostly. But I love the way her hair starts to curl in that episode. If we take the curl as coming from Marge, it’d make sense if she grew to look more like her parents.

Bart

Alright, Bartman! Bartholomew is probably getting the most change, hence why I put him last. After all, he’s changed a lot in the show too (the color of his shirt from blue to... again, is it orange or red?) and his future appearances arguably vary the most. His hair is interesting, because although the design I’ve settled on for it matched fairly close to his 15-year-old self in Barthood, it’s actually based off of the music video for Deep Deep Trouble. He got his head shaved as punishment, and since I saw it I HCed that this happens whenever Bart gets in big trouble, so his hair is constantly a buzzcut because it’s always just growing out. As he matures a bit and doesn’t get caught as often, he can grow his hair out more. As for height... although most of his aged up appearances have him keep that pear shape to look like Homer, I figure since he has a bit more of an active lifestyle, he would shed some baby fat. I particularly liked his lanky look in that one “2006-2013 Family Portrait” couch gag, where he just kinda... stretches. It makes him look like he took after Marge some, which I like.

Clothes are fun. Bart has always been a rebel, and a very creative kid, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he started expressing himself in his clothes more. His lucky red cap and his earring from Simpson tide would almost certainly appear more, but in terms of his clothes, a simple orange shirt won’t cut it anymore. The bright orange might be too close to homer’s salmon pink or Lisa’s warm red, I’m altering the shade to be more brick. The shirt itself will be a floral button up (the pattern being his classic orange and OG blue as an homage) inspired by his clothes in Homer’s Phobia, Bart to The Future (where he also has an earring), and this post by @springfieldblues, which I love.

That’s it for part one! Part two will focus on the nature of how character design will function in this AU as a whole, as well as changes to more minor characters.