#i spent too much time getting attached to this little family in the first game for them to end up like this ;-;

[explodingquails]

MAJOR Hades 2 spoilers under the cut!

I am so unwell about this... the way their bodies are arranged in a circle made me think they were cornered and making a last stand back-to-back when Chronos got them.

Also the fact that Nyx was frozen away from the rest implies either: 1) Chronos attacked her first to get her out of the picture; 2) She was the last one left and faced Chronos in the hallway leading to Hades' room to buy Melinoë and Hekate time to escape

In case the pic is too low quality those are the Chronos victims clockwise from the top: Achilles, Zagreus, Megaera, Dusa, Persephone, Thanatos :((

#hades 2 spoilers #hades 2 #supergiant games #hades 2 theory #hades game #all of them in mid fighting poses too... #it's impressive how much can be inferred from this one still #please let melinoe save them #i spent too much time getting attached to this little family in the first game for them to end up like this ;-;

[unreliablesnake]

The only exception (Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader)

Summary: Ghost didn't date. But Osprey made him change his mind about this rule of his.

Warnings: a mention of his erection because he's an awkward penguin. no, don't ask me what it means, i don't know.

Ghost didn’t date. He had one-night stands to satisfy the physical needs he had, but that was it–no strings attached, no second meetings. To him, it was optimal. There was no drama, no need to look out for the needs of a partner after being away for long.

The problems began when Osprey joined the 141. He had been cautious since day one. He kept his distance and tried to figure her out, while Johnny went all in and spent every free second of his with her. Gaz and Price were also very open to the possibility of gaining a new friend, and eventually they all spent nights together sharing stories and playing stupid games.

He found it weird that everyone was so quick to accept her, even though Laswell made it quite clear at the beginning that she trusted this woman with her life. Ghost couldn't let his guard down so easily. She noticed, but respected his boundaries. Soap possibly warned her about him, telling him some bullshit story about why he was so cold to everyone.

But he wasn't cold. Not anymore, that is. The members of the 141 were like his family, and since she was one of them, she should have been considered family too. If that was the case, though, why couldn't he trust her? He often thought about this, and it wasn't until a late August evening in a Central European country that he realized what was wrong.

He liked her too much.

That night they went out for a drink to celebrate another successful mission, and she was wearing this gorgeous yellow dress with her hair pulled up, revealing the soft curve of her neck, and making her look absolutely irresistible. He was gripping his glass of beer a little too tightly, almost breaking it as he was staring at her. Soap noticed. He always noticed.

“Like what you see?” he asked as a joke, but his smile faded the moment he noticed the uncomfortable look in his eyes. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Ghost barked.

“You like her.”

A sigh left the lieutenant’s lips before he could stop himself. This only encouraged Soap to play matchmaker, because only 0.2 seconds later he raised his hand and signaled her to come over. Osprey smiled at them as she grabbed her drink and moved over to their side of the table, taking the narrow spot between the two men before turning to the sergeant.

Ghost hated every second that followed her arrival because the close proximity was slowly driving him mad. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating, and the way she took a sip of her drink made him think about what else she could swallow. Fuck, he was losing it.

She and Soap were getting lost in a conversation, as if they had completely forgotten about him sitting right there, but then he heard his name leave her pink lips and this caught his attention. This was the first time hearing someone say ‘Simon’ made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

“What do you think?” she asked with a smile.

“About what?” he asked, completely lost.

But she didn’t seem offended, instead she put down her drink and turned her body towards him as she replied. “Johnny wants to play pool, but since I suck, I thought we could play as a team and you could teach me.”

Yes, sure, because being so close to her would certainly help with his growing erection. Johnny will pay for this for sure. But for now he just smiled under his mask and nodded. “Sure, why not?”

Osprey was the light in the usual darkness of his life. She could lighten the mood without even trying, making everyone laugh with some stupid joke, and making them comfortable even when the tension was high. Now as they walked over to the pool table, he didn’t miss the lustful looks other guys gave you, and also the jealous side-glances from women who were with said men.

Johnny picked up two cues and gave one to her along with a piece of chalk. While the two of them exchanged a few words–which was mostly the sergeant teasing her–he took care of the balls in the middle of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her lean against it with a hand on the green surface.

“You okay?” he asked her when his gaze turned to her face and he noticed the troubled look in her eyes. “We don’t have to play just because Johnny wants to.”

But she just shook her head. “No, I’m good. I’m more worried about you, big guy. If you don’t feel like helping me, I can manage on my own. Johnny would talk me through it for sure,” she added with a laugh.

What was he supposed to say? That he was more than happy to be near her, to have the chance to touch her while he's showing her somemoves? No, he couldn’t do that. So he tried his best to keep it cool. “It’s okay, I’ll help. I want to teach Johnny a lesson.”

After letting out a humming sound, she nodded. “All right, let's kick his ass, then,” Osprey said before playfully punching his upper arm.

And so the game began. Johnny was a pro, Ghost already knew that, but tonight he was more vicious than usual. He guessed it was only because he wanted her to be desperate for help, and sure enough she soon asked him to show her how to properly position the cue. He hesitantly put a hand on top of hers, covering it entirely due to the size difference, then leaned a little closer to her.

“If you want me to stop, just say so,” he told her quietly as his other hand rested on her shoulder. She gulped and nodded, but didn't stop him, instead she turned her head to the side to look at him. “All right, take a deep breath then slowly let it out. Focus on the ball you want to knock into the hole.”

Osprey did everything he told her, listening carefully as he explained the best way to play this game. It became clear that they made a good team, but he noticed that at one point Johnny began to let them win. Even though he gave the sergeant a warning look, he just shrugged with a wide grin and put up his hands. The young woman on his side didn't really understand what this was all about and he wasn't planning on telling her the details.

As the game came to its end, Ghost gave her more space to try her wings, playing without his help and celebrating every successful move. When she won, Soap acted like it had been a tough game, while he watched her with his arms folded over his chest, taking in every little detail since he had no idea when he would see her again. The wide, happy smile on her lips made him happy too. She deserved it.

She deserved nothing but good things.

Then he was knocked out of his pink clouded thoughts by her tight hug. He let his arms fall to his sides, trying to process this new sensation. Women had never hugged him before. All right, his mother did when he was a child, but that was a long time ago and that was entirely different. Out of the corner of his eye he glanced over at Soap, silently asking for help. The sergeant rolled his eyes at him before showing him that he should hug her back.

So he did; he wrapped his arms around her and even rested his chin on top of her head. She mumbled something into his chest, but the only thing he understood was a soft thank you. “We should meet before the next mission,” he said before realizing what was happening. His mouth moved faster than his brain. Shit.

“As friends or as a date?” asked Osprey, sounding playful and teasing.

He knew there was no turning back. “As a date. If you're single, that is.”

She let her small hands move to his belt, following its curve around his hips as her eyes were searching his face for something. The uncertainty was killing him, he had no idea if this meant she was in, or if this was just her wicked way of making fun of him. But when she stood on her toes and moved her hands to pull down his mask, he knew she was interested. This couldn't be an act.

“I like the idea,” she whispered against his lips. He was frozen to that spot, his hands resting on her sides while she stayed on her toes. “Won't you kiss me?” she asked curiously as she moved her hand to the back of his neck.

Should he kiss her? Wasn't it too soon? He kissed his one-night stands, but she wasn't like that. He wanted more from her, more than one good night. He wanted all of them; every day and every night. Just the two of them, together and as happy as he hadn't been for a long time. Or was it too much to ask for?

Before he knew it, she pressed her lips to his, initiating a slow, sensual kiss he hadn't experienced in a while. The kisses of the past few years were all hungry and feverish and messy, the total opposite of this one. In the background he heard Johnny's teasing whistle, but he ignored it, instead he got lost in this newish sensation.

#call of duty #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #modern warfare ii #ghost x reader #mw2

[rise-my-angel]

New Year New Games

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Length: 16.3k

Warnings: Nanny au, slight canon divergence, reader with powers, mutual pining, masturbtion, angst/hurt comfort, happy ending, smut, handjobs, p in v

Notes: Big thank you to @thewayofthemandalorian for letting me borrow the idea about Marcus's wife and caring for a younger Missy from Afraid To Jinx It 💜

You knew you weren’t getting out of this one. You had already skipped out on the Christmas party, and nearly everyone had commented on it. On the Monday you arrived at work and the first thing Marcus said to you was, “You didn’t come to the party? We- everyone was excited to see you.” Followed by a few vaugley annoyed emails from others in the office about you not showing up. Apparently your presence in the building was missed and you’re excuse of something coming up at the last minute was not accepted. 

Now though? You had been walked right into a trap just to coax you into saying yes. Ms Vox and Lavagirl had insisted in meeting up with you for lunch, claiming it had been so long since they’d seen you and wanted to catch up. You had Missy with you that afternoon, so you hoped she would be a good distraction for them. Failing to remember that she obviously was at the party, and wouldn’t be distracted by her charm this time around. 

“No one has seen you in forever. We miss you.” Vox was unfair. Toning her voice up to sound so sweet and enticing while bashing her well painted eyes at you. Lavagirl was a little more straight forward in intention, but stayed silent to let her friend play the guilt trip game. “There’s no way you aren’t at least a little bit tired of working in Moreno’s house day in and day out.” 

Except that was the opposite reason you didn’t go to the party. It was over half a year ago when Marcus’s wife had left. Signed her parental rights off and moved overseas to focus her life entirely on laboratory research. None of you were quite sure why she had to leave her family behind to do so, but judging by Marcus’s not so heartbroken response you suspected it was at least something that had been building up for a while. 

That’s where you came in. Your ability wasn’t special enough to put you in the prestigious league of Heroics, but kept you around them so long most of them considered you a friend. You could keep it dormant and that’s where you preferred to keep it. Ullr they called you, or when they tried to tease you about it, ‘God of Gambling’. You could use it to win any kind of direct amble, bet, or traditional game. You couldn’t bet on the horses, but you would always win a game of pool. 

Turns out, having such a specific skill set didn’t have much use in a combative world, and more often then not you were designated for office duty. Then Marcus’s wife left, and he found himself with a three year old Missy and no one to care for her when he was gone. So you volunteered. Coming here to only find out that the very team you were hired on to join, had no use for you made you feel left out. 

Tossed aside because what were you supposed to do? Fight aggressive, violent bad guys by challenging them to rock, paper scissors? “If I win six out of ten you have to promise to stop murdering.” Yeah that would solve the problem. So you forced it back, kept it dormant and tried to find purpose here, until Marcus needed help. 

It was a long talk when you approached him about leaving your job here and being a nanny to his daughter. You needed a purpose after the only one you were told you were destined for got ripped away for it’s uselessness. But half a year later you felt no regrets. 

Missy adored you as much as you adored her, and Marcus felt much more like a close friend than a boss now. Which was why you skipped the party. He to you, felt too much like a close friend and you had a bad habit of falling for close friends. 

You spent enough time as it was in his personal life, and the last thing you wanted was to come off as clingy or attached. You invaded their lives, their home enough as it was he didn’t need you in his home for an office party with people you didn’t even work with anymore. So you claimed something came up, but now the two women sat across from you at the tiny round table felt like they were closing in on the lie. 

“I’m not above dragging you out of your apartment by force to get you to go.” Your forehead fell into your hand as you sighed. Lavagirl wasn’t above making a scene and your nerves lit with anxiety at the prospect of being the subject of it. She leaned in across the table trying to catch your eyes. “You haven’t done anything fun for yourself since even before you left. It’s just one party and we’ll stop pestering you about them. Until the next one.” 

Your eyes dragged up to her, flat and amused as you tilted to rest your cheek on your palm. You did have fun actually, both with Missy and the more quiet hours you spent with Marcus when he comes home. Just spending time with him like you were regular friends. “What if midnight’s just too late for me?” 

Now Lavagirl was the one to give you the flat look. “Please how many times did I come back from a mission around eleven at least and there you were still working away? You’re telling me in what? 6 months you’ve changed and now abide by a bed time like a good girl? I can’t even get my own daughter to do that.” 

Your body dropped, eyes drifting off to the side of nothing as you sighed. If you showed up, did the rounds, made an impression as people were excited to see you maybe you could sneak out during a quiet lull when no one was looking. You were quiet for a moment, mind lost in thought as you sat unmoving. 

Vox’s quiet call of your name along with a cutesy “Please?” just sent prickles all over your skin. Raking across your arms and down into your chest. These were your friend’s once upon a time. It wasn’t their fault or choice that Ms. Granada kicked you out of the league. 

Before you could really think about it, a small hand tapped at your arm. You looked beside you to Missy’s wide brown eyes just as bright as her dads. “Daddy says I can come too. I can keep you company if you’re sad!” 

Christ almighty, her puppy dog eyes were just as manipulative as Marcus’s as well. His magnetic manipulation might not have been inherited, but apparently his adorable wide eyed convincing skills sure were. 

You ran a hand over her hair, noting in the back of your mind to braid it when you both got home so she didn’t have snow soaked hair dripping all over the floor. You didn’t even notice that you called the Moreno house home. Not her home, or even their home. Just home.

Warmth filled your heart as you looked at her, and flickered your eyes back over to the hopeful looks of your friends. Answering Missy was easier then answering them. So you pulled her head slightly towards you to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

Pulling back you put a hand over your heart, voice enunciated and exaggeratedly formal. “I’d be honoured Madam Moreno to have you escort me to the New Year’s Ball.” 

Her little face scrunched up in thought, whipping her head around like she was about to reveal a secret only to slide halfway off her seat to whisper to whisper, “What’s a New Year Ball?” 

Grinning, you cupped your hand around her ear, whispering just loud enough for Vox and Lavagirl to hear as well. “Like the fancy castle party in Cinderella.” Immediately her eyes lit up and clapped, voice loud and almost in a giddy ‘yay’. Catching eyes of other people in the cafe, but only attracting melted hearts of you and the other two at your table. 

She stuck her pinky out and waited for you to return it, as she gave a fond smile before looking to the others. “You can’t pick me up though. Give me time to get ready, alright? It’s been a while since I’ve been around everyone at once.” 

They gave you that at least. The rest of the afternoon was easy going. You spent much time in Missy’s room combing through her closet and drawer of little costumes trying to find a pretty dress that sparkled just like Cinderellas. Sitting on her bed, short legs waving back and forth as she tapped at her cheek trying to decide if she wanted a pretty tiara to go with it.  

By the time you heard Marcus’s car pull into the driveway you already had Missy in her seat at the kitchen table munching on baby carrots as you put the finishing touches on her dinner. As you heard the front door open, Marcus sweetly called Missy’s name. 

Her head whipped over to you, hair flying across her face from the swish, eyes wide and begging. Just a nod of your head and she jumped from her seat and ran into the other room. Judging by the clash of fabric, no doubt dashing straight into Marcus’ chest in a hug. You tried not to pay attention, or even look his way.

Hopefully he would make his usual plea that you shouldn’t feel obligated to make dinner, let alone set out a plate for himself and not you. Shake his head at your insistence that you enjoyed it and he’d leave it at that. You didn’t want him to bring up new years and immediately key out whatever lie you’d come up on the spot with. 

You only planned on visiting for a short while, avoid having to interact with him in a fun, champagne fueled get together where he’d let loose much more naturally. You could avoid your feelings when you still worked at the head quarters, distracted by non stop running around and being dragged by your ankles into office politics. Here you had Missy. You were hired to make her your priority so you could shove those feelings aside in favour of being a good caregiver and role model for her. 

But a party you had no obligations, and there would be no filter or work around to avoid him. Marcus wanted you to come to the Christmas party so much, he would be thrilled to see you at this one.

Lost in thought, you missed Marcus’s entrance to the kitchen. His presence only making itself known as you jumped at the press of his warm hand at your back and deep voice rumble in your ear. “I’ve told you, cariño. If you insist on making me dinner when you don’t have to, please make some for yourself too.” 

From the corner of your eye you could see his chin nod out to the only two plates set up one with a purposely fun Missy friendly assortment of food while the other clearly set up or Marcus with a little green bean salad on the side that neither you or your tiny ward would ever touch. “And I’ve told you, sir that I take on enough time with Missy as it is. She needs alone father daughter time.” 

Still not looking him in the eye, you grabbed the plates and swivelled out of his closeness by rushing out the long way to the table. Even a drink set out in a nice glass was there. Leaning down to Missy’s level you put her plate in front of her. “Remember, veggies first. So you can-” 

Her bright eyes shined up at you with a proud smile, “So I can end on the tasty parts?” You grinned at her and pulled her in to kiss the top of your head. You could only see enough of Marcus to know that pulled off his tie and undone enough buttons to let his chest breathe. 

But you still didn’t look at him as you left the room to put your jacket on. Marcus though was faster then you could leave, turning the corner as he called your name. Reluctantly you turned your head and instantly regretted it. His glasses were off so it gave a completely unobstructed view of his eyes that screamed warmth. “Are you going to be there tomorrow night?” 

You told yourself the hopeful look on him was your imagination. “I uh..” 

Marcus closed in on you, his gaze never straying from your shifting eyes. “Her abuela is taking her home if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Christ how did a man with such a sharp power and commanding presence radiate a sweet energy that it could rot a tooth if indulged in too much. You switched your weight back and forth on your feet, knowing if you lied to him now you would secure him approaching you directly at the party about it. 

So you sighed nonchalantly and nodded. “I think so.” You looked up at him in the most fake casual manner. Maybe you really did deserve to be booted from the team, you couldn’t lie convincingly with a gun to your head. “Hard to say no when Vox gets on you about something, right?” 

His eyes squinted in thought towards you for the briefest of flashes before chuckling. The bass flying directly into your veins and flowed throughout with a guilty desire. A fond smile graced his features as he took a final step towards you, a hand gently finding a spot cupping your wrist that hovered by your chest still attached to your zipper. “I- good. We all just want to see you have fun for once. You work too hard.” 

If Marcus could feel the muscles in your arm tightening, he didn’t say anything. The needy part of your brain just begging for him to slide up just centimeters more and lock his think fingers with your small ones. But you simply finished zipping your jacket up hoping the movement would lose him. It didn’t, his touch followed the trail up to your shoulders only to burn your neck where he moved his touch to lightly cup the side of your neck and just under your jaw. “I’m serious. I want you to go, see everyone again and have fun. You deserve it, alright?” 

The rough pad of his fingers had your pulse explode into overdrive, again if he noted, not a word was said. You needed to get out of there. The longer you felt Marcus in your space, the more his comforting cologne scent filled your nostrils the more you couldn’t breathe. He didn’t wear know how weak being so close made you feel and you couldn’t deal with that right now. 

So you just forced a tight closed mouth smile and nodded. “I don’t know about that, but I promise to stop by.” You turned to open the door, yelling a goodbye to Missy only to be accosted by her tiny frame bumping into your legs. 

“Wait you need a pretty dress too!” Without thinking you crouched down to her height with an eyebrow raised. “The Cinderella ball, if I’m a princess you are too.” Turning in place she looked up to the currently impressive height of her father. “Daddy she needs a matching dress!” 

You laughed genuinely this time. “I promise I have a princess dress that will match yours perfectly.” To be honest you’re not sure you did but a promise was a promise to the mini Moreno and you’d have to spend the afternoon searching for one. 

You stood up to leave again, seeing Marcus with such a warm gaze towards you and what looked like a smile you told yourself wasn’t for you. You looked down at Missy as she gave one last request. “Glass slippers too! For the prince remember?” 

It didn’t occur to you that as she said it, her grabbing onto her dad in a cuddling hug was anything more then just an innocent hug. Marcus knew what she did, but you didn’t. “Glass slippers. Check.” 

Stepping out onto the porch you turned back as Marcus said your name once more. “Goodnight, cariño.” 

You felt your face flush, but bent your head somewhat out of sight. “Goodnight, sir.” Before finally taking off. He was itching to say something about the formality, you just knew it but didn’t bother giving him the chance too. 

On the way home, you ended up stopping by a little dress shop just to see. Missy ended on a poofy sparkling blue dress, much darker like a midnight blue but it was the closest you both could get to the dress from the movie. You already had an idea on what to wear, there was a simple deep orange dress that was a tad bit boring that would have sufficed. 

But here you were, looking for a deep blue dress just to you could make the little girl you watch happy for one evening. You couldn’t say no to her hopeful face, the bright shining one she got from her father and the one you avoided on him as much as possible. 

Settling on one similar in colour, you draped it over your bedroom door with a pair of nicer shoes tucked against the wall nearby. If you turned your light back on, you’d be able to see the dress. Watch as it mocks you for even thinking impressing either Morenos mattered. The love and affection you had towards them was real and tangible, and it just made you feel wrong for ever contemplating dropping any kind of hints. He was your boss no matter which job title you held and having the person he hired to care for his daughter fawn over him wasn’t appropriate.  

That thought though, didn’t cease to creep back into your mind as your fingers trailed down to your clit the longer sleep evaded you. You didn’t start with Marcus in your mind but he floated back in, buzzing your senses and losing your breathe to it. His tall warmth that could engulf you, burying you deep with the deep cadence he spoke to softly in.

Images of a face so handsome that if he worked at a normal office, he’d surely have women fawn all over him everyday. But you saw his domestic side, how his soft features glowed under the lack of eyes and pressure atop his shoulders. 

The more your core tightened in need, the more breathy the quiet noises you made felt. If you made as little noise as possible, even in your silent home, you might be able to pretend you weren’t teetering towards an orgasm at the phantom of the innocent touches he graced you with. 

Not knowing that Marcus felt a similar tightening of his own, only he let those thoughts dominate his mind and felt no shame for what his senses blew over him. 

Missy tucked into bed, he finally found time to wash off the day in the shower. Starting off with no agenda, but as the water grew colder, his thoughts grew stronger. Your wide eyed face whenever he was close to you haunted him. He wanted that look underneath him, on it’s knees before him, and Marcus desperately wanted to see how much he could morph it with wherever you’d let his cock inside of you. 

He begun gripping the base of his cock without much conscious effort, squeezing just tight enough to set the nerves inside him alight. One hand was braced above his head flat against the tile wall, the other keeping such a tight grip he could only stroke up and down slowly. You had never touched him in anyway that could be interpreted sexually but the memory of your hands on his skin burned an invisible imprint on the spots. 

Marcus had cupped part of your face in his hand tonight, he was so close to being able to pull you into him and find out what your lips feel like. Lips that he needed to feel all over his body. A shiver rippled down his spine at the thought and travelled into his cock with a slight twitch. 

His strokes slid faster and faster, never ceasing the tight roughness he held. The throb throughout it yearned to find out just how snug your pussy compared to his own grip. What you’d sound like the first time he eased himself into your pretty body. Marcus thought it would be soft, a quiet, reserved gasp that he wanted to fuck out of your worries. 

His thumb rubbed over his tip as he groaned, the ghost of a fantasy kneeling in front of him. Each rub imagined itself as sweet little kitten licks you’d tease him with. Your alluring eyes shut or refusing to look up at him in shyness there even in his fantasy. 

In tandem with the ghost in front of him, his hand slid down suddenly from braced above him to the shower lever. Just as the image of the same hand gripping your hair and guiding your head to sink down over his cock flashed just as he purposely turned the level to heat up. 

The slight burn from the shock of just too high temperatures so suddenly, the steam fogging up the entire room blended with his groans. Your beautiful self that walked and worked through his home like it was your own, the need you had to take care of even him had his jaw clench at the angry need to make you feel it in return. 

Through gritted teeth his strokes slid faster up and down his cock as your name moaned out from his lips. He felt no shame for how much he wanted his touch to be you, no shame for how much he saved your kind, innocent actions in his mind to jerk off too when he was alone. 

You were a beautiful creature in mind and in body, and Marcus was desperate to prove it. As his orgasm waved through him, the spurts of cum painting the tiles should have been your tits, your stomach even your ass. His cum was on his shower wall when it should be painted all over you. 

Yours was less satisfying. Nothing more then a shiver and dull fire that faded just as unimpressive as it’s size. You withheld his name on your tongue, and as you turned to the side you refused to pull a pillow into you to cuddle. You didn’t want to flame an unfair fantasy. It wasn’t Marcus you were cuddling into you, and you’d end up imagining no matter what if you tried. 

So you fell asleep, frustrated at the your petulant attitude of having to go to a party with people who want you there. Show up, praise Missy for her beautiful princess appearance, chit chat and then sneak out when no one was looking. 

Simple plan, but just like your original plan of being hired into the heroics team, fate would refuse to let it play out as you tried so hard to. 

It had surprised you that your biometrics still worked. You showed up to the outside of the complex with a long coat wrapped tightly around you to protect from the cold, but even in the tram to the main building you refused to let it up even a little. 

You felt exposed in this dress now that you weren’t alone in a tiny dressing room. The deep blue with a shining sparkle felt louder then the amount it even showed of your skin. Your arms draped and covered by it’s long material and the calves sticking out from where the dress landed at your knees were covered in a tight black leggings. You wore no more or less clothing then you’d ever worn in that building but it still felt suffocatingly bright. 

A few faces you didn’t know directed you to the main level where the event was taking place, undoing the front of your jacket as you did so. Trying to swallow the pounding of your heart at how shining it was already. Unfortunately for you, any chance at entering quietly was dashed as soon as you stepped into the elevator. Running in just before the doors begun to close, was a familiar flock of blonde hair and a tinge of an accent that never knew what an indoor voice was. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Your head fell back with a jolt as you turned partially to look at the man. Miracle Guy held an excited grin and arms wide open for a hug that he pulled you into as he continued his rant. “Half a year we don’t see you and you show up on new years looking like a five coarse meal, darlin’?”

 

Mouth slightly agape, you shook the surprise off your face. “It’s uh, nothing special- your suit looks good, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in just black and white.” You shifted the attention elsewhere, Miracle Guy looked rather handsome, black pants and a white blazer trimmed with a matching black with what appeared to be a casual white long sleeve underneath. And there was no chance he didn’t want to boast about it. 

He pulled back and spread his arms out like a showcase, “My body helped pick it out. I’m telling you he got an eye for flash already.” He put a hand on his heart with a mock act of choked up, “I’m so proud.” 

You half smirked as you rolled your eyes, once again pulling your coat to hide your dress once more as you turned back to the doors. “Good to know that some things never chance.” 

Miracle Guy chuckled beside you, “Don’t worry, darlin’ I guarantee no one around here’s changed since you left. You’re in good hands.” Just as the doors opened, he shoved you a bit to go in front of him completely oblivious that being the subject of his dramatics was the last thing you wanted. 

A skilled hero and good man, but one of the most casually dumb person you know. Passing a newly installed rack of hooks, clearly for the line of jackets currently decorating the entrance hallway Miracle Guy pulled off your jacket with no warning. 

Making you fall back slightly with a yelp, now you were out there. Your conservative skin covering outfit ready to trick you into feeling all eyes on it. Miracle Guy’s hands patted down on your shoulders and walked you forward, the volume of the party just out of view around the corner. “Time to swallow those nerves, gotta show off our sparkling guest of honour in her strangely sparkling dress.” 

You weren’t really sure what he said to announce you. All you could feel were eyes, too many eyes snapping over to you in too many emotions. They all were a blur as your heart pounded in your ears, being approached by a multitude of people. Most of which were your short lived teammates. 

Vox was unfairly stunning as usual yet in gentle muted tones, contrasting with the black dress on Lavagirl that did nothing to take away the brightness of her hair. You were pretty certain it was physically impossible to actually dye her hair. 

You didn’t really like the fawning. It was sweet of them to compliment you, but there was just so many people suddenly around you. Marcus was just out of sight near the other end of the room with a very similar blue blob in his arms, no doubt helping Missy show how excited she was about her dress. Next to him was Ms Granada, probably the one person you wanted to talk too less then Marcus. 

Luckily you were being dragged off closer to the bar area to be persuaded with an open tab. Eventually were you talked into have at least one since it was early on enough that driving later wouldn’t be an issue. For a while, things fell back into a calmer place.

You may just have been able to get out on time. Suddenly your name was being called as the midnight blue blob ran over to you, her dress shining in the light and her hair in a pretty little up do. You tried to push down the thought that Marcus spent time and patience doing her hair up so nicely and certainly not picture it. 

Hopping off the stool, you crouched down to her and welcomed her hug. Fixing her tiara as her impact made it fall off to the side you didn’t see the approaching figure. “And you were afraid you two weren’t going to look the same.” 

Startled by his voice, you stayed frozen crouched on the ground as Marcus picked up Missy, turning her in his hold so she could look at him properly. “Can’t be outshining you now can I?” He leaned in closer to her as she shook her head no, whispering something in Spanish too quiet for you to try and pickup. 

All you could see was Missy suddenly wide eyed and determined looking as she nodded yes this time before looking at you. “I have to go! Secret mission!” 

Laughing you said “okay,” before standing up close to Marcus to give Missy a kiss on the forehead before he put her down. Both turning your torsos to the side to watch her run off across the room to where her grandmother stood chatting with what was likely an old colleague. You chuckled to yourself, the admiration you had for her soared higher every day it felt. 

Braving a chance, you looked back up at Marcus, instantly regretting it. His hair was done, not pristine or slicked back but loose and wavy, the curls on him so soft and appetizing. Just a neat dark blue button up with far too many buttons undone at the chest and sleeves rolled up his forearms and black jeans to finish it off. Your heart fluttered at how handsome he was. 

“Turns out I wasn’t the only one she wanted to match with.” You tilted your head just the slightest in confusion before his eyes took a peek down to your dress and back up, never leaving your figure. In his eyes there was a flash of something you couldn’t quite catch, he was good at reigning himself in. “You look beautiful by the way.” 

Your face fell into a flustered embarrassment as you crossed your arms protectively over your stomach, pointedly not looking at him. “Everyone here looks good.” There was your complete lack of charisma or subtlety again.

Your nerves flickered on and off, unable to decide if you wanted more or less of this unwavering gaze he had on you. But his voice lured you in to look up at him regardless. “I’m serious cariño. You look stunning tonight.” His hand risked rising up to trace his fingertips over the fabric at your waste and ending just at your hips, keeping them pressed there. “But you look stunning all the time, so I guess that’s not really a compliment.” 

Mouth stammering with no sound of words even coming out you pulled your arms in tighter as the embarrassed smile stayed plastered. “That’s rich coming from you.” His eyes narrowed playfully at you as his fingers pressed into your dress more firm, likely now feeling the dip into your skin instead of the fabric. “Women drool over you online all the time, not to me.”

His whole hand slid into place your hip now in a caressing hold in his large, warm hand. He ignored your attempt to lessen the not uncomfortable tension between the two of you, his other hand raising up to tangle a bit of your loose hair in his fingers.”One of these day’s I’m going to force you to finally understand that.” 

Even though he wasn’t near your face you still shivered at how close his knuckles were to brushing your cheek. “Yeah right, you do enough as it is.” 

Hand curling more around your hip you felt a slight pull to move you closer, his hand in your hair still raking through the locks as you wanted but not dared to do to him. He may have already had a drink, he could just be buzzed and sweet you told yourself. 

Marcus seemed to reign himself in as well. Sliding his palm down your shoulder to your arm and letting it fall to the wayside. “I’m glad your here.” 

As if completely oblivious to the tender air between you two, Miracle Guy appeared by your side an arm thrown carelessly around your shoulders enough to jostle you in place uncomfortably. Marcus still with one hand on your hip moving up to your waist to keep you steady as he glared at your new companion. “Careful with her.” 

Ignoring the awkwardness, he pointed at Marcus “You don’t mind if we have our turn to have the guest of honour?” Marcu’s jaw clenched as well as the muscles in his forearms. Miracle Guy now tapping at your shoulder. “We require assistance, someone with your expertise.”

Pushing you now with his both hands on a shoulder each, he turned back once to his clearly agitated leader. “Moreno.” 

Marcus just ignored him. His brown eyes washed over you with that frustratingly addictive allure, “Go, have fun. I can have you later.” Your heart lurched along with a shiver down your spine as those alluring eyes dove deeper into something much greedier, only to be ripped away from you as you were not so gently guided to a green felted table. 

Your entire body sagged at the realization, turning to point and glare at him, Miracle Guy held his hands up in the air. “It was Tech-no’s idea.” Behind you the man yelled in protest. 

“Did everyone suddenly forget what I said before I left?” That was a yes, and when you looked at the table, none of them looked guilty. More excited actually. Cards were laid out in the middle of the table and it did nothing to entice you like the brown eyes somewhere behind you. 

Miracle Guy walked around you to lean up against the table, palms bracing him as he did so. “Come on, Ullr. Whats point of being the god of gambling if you never play.” 

Your teeth bit the inside of your cheek, already feeling yourself let your ability flow through the gates you liked to keep it locked behind. Still, you protested. “I’m sorry did everyone go deaf when I said I don’t like fooling around with this stuff?” 

It was laid out very clear, no betting, no stakes, no money. Some forms of gambling your power simply didn’t work with, but most you did have an advantage that would always secure a win. You didn’t even need to learn or try and finding fame and fortune that way felt like cheating. 

You hadn’t used your ability in any way since you left to be a nanny to Missy. Tech-no leaned onto his forearms resting on the table. “Hey, we only bet bragging rights not money.” 

Your arms crossed, looking to the side as you grappled with using this again. Vox snuck up beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and one at your waist guiding you closer. “One game from the beauty in blue?”

You didn’t feel flustered in the way you did with Marcus. Less butterflies and heat in your cheeks, and more dread and frustration. “I thought you said you just needed my....help.” You weren’t going to say expertise that’s stupid. 

“Some of us learn by watching, teach us a few tricks, maybe a drink, have some fun, sweets.” Vox then slapped your ass gently as she walked closer to the wall beside the table. It’d been half a year since she did that, and now you remembered just how annoying but comical it was. Just coming from her though. 

You tapped your fingers against your arms for a minute. Breath moving faster as your limbs tingled uncomfortably, but you already had unlocked it. It wasn’t something you thought about or even needed to pay attention too. 

Play a bet, and you’d win no matter what. It was a spectacle they wanted, so just maybe you could give it to them and be satisfied enough to let you leave. 

It never sat right with Marcus. Your entire history with the organization. Marcus had been the one to hire you. A series of incidents occurring in New Zealand, rumours of betrayal and accusations of cheating spreading like wildfire amongst groups speculated to be involved in organized crime. It wasn’t necessary to his work at the time, but he liked to keep an eye on things like that. 

Eventually a name kept popping up, a pseudonym that claimed anything they showed up to a hosted gambling event amongst that community, they’d win again and again. Impressing the men so much that they rose through the competitions. Finally making it up to face off against one of the main leaders, and the host of the competition at his private residence.  

The next day, breaking news of a giant raid at the very same home. And only a whisper of someone they called Ullr to go off of. He couldn’t get his mind off of it until he went to look into it himself. A real shock when he tracked this figure down, only to find you in a tiny unimpressive apartment in the middle of a panic attack. 

Apparently being forced into acting as an informant for an organized crime system through a gambling competition was the local police station officers solution for failing to find a reason to arrest the woman who broke up with his petulant child of a son. 

Rest assured, once you realized who he was and the warm genuinity that radiated from him, it all came spilling out of your mouth. You didn’t even live in that country. A small vacation, a small string of dates with a pushy, entitled rich man that had you ending things politely, and suddenly you weren’t allowed to leave. 

Marcus was excited when he brought you back to America. Sure it was where your home was, but he also had been honest about your ability. Honest about wanting to see you find a use for it that didn’t leave you feeling used or dirty. 

But Ms Granada didn’t hire you. And she didn’t want you. So just as quickly as you had settled in as an official member of the team, she kicked you off and demoted you to administration work for the very team she kicked you from. 

He hasn’t seen you use your ability since. Not even as you liked to do, just playful jokes and laughs about it with the your former teammates. One could mistake you for never having it at all. Truth be told he was happy when you told him you wanted the job to be Missy’s nanny. 

Not seeing you everyday? He missed you, and he wanted to make it better but Ms Granada had his hands tied. 

Having you in his home, with his daughter and be in their lives sent his feelings spiralling out of control but still you never used it. And it left Marcus feeling unsettled as he watched you reluctantly sit at the table being dealt cards everyone knew you didn’t even need to look at.

But you always wanted to do things for people to make them happy. Maybe it was selfish to want that all for himself and Missy, but he wanted it all for himself because he wanted to make you happy in return. He wanted you to feel comfortable enough to give yourself to him, trusting that he only wants the best for you like you do him. 

He tried many times to make you dinner before you made his and Missys. But you were strict about your routine with her, and as much as it touched Marcus that you cared he just wanted to see you stop doing everything for everyone else. 

You weren’t happy at that table, but you were there letting yourself be a spectacle for an ability you were kicked out of your dreams for. 

Marcus begun making his way over to the table, circling around so he could see you properly. Drinks and laughs filled the entire area, but you remained mostly stoic. A calm, flat expression as you tried to force yourself into the same joyous feeling but failed. 

The group was having fun, but all you could see was your failure. People looking to you for entertainment that got to come back in the next day and live out the dream they were promised. It wasn’t Marcus’s fault, and you wondered just how much of it he felt guilty for. 

Guilt for rescuing you from an endless trap, only to be overruled before you even had a chance to prove your worth. You felt your own guilt as well. You loved Missy, and carving a part of your life into this small domestic fantasy with her and Marcus filled your heart with warmth. But you also had to watch his marriage fall apart for this little life to happen. 

Had to watch him come in day in and day out and act like normal. Act like it was just some minor troubles, when behind closed doors? He would express to you how frustrating it was, how difficult she was making it and how he was falling out of love for her quicker then it took to fall in love. She wouldn’t grant him a divorce because of Missy, only to walk out months later. Leaving behind nothing but divorce papers and documents giving up her parental rights. 

It was painful, and you didn’t know how fair it would be to Marcus to showcase your feelings for him when this intimacy only came about from his family being torn apart. 

You noticed he had begun to watch as well, but his face as hard and impassive as you tried to be. His brow furrowed in an unknown conflict. His eyes only on you. Not long after he came over, his mother joined passing a now more tired Missy into his arms. Whispering gently into her ear he pointed at the table and described what was happening. 

Her own head fell into where it could reach on Marcus, a hand gently resting curled up on her mouth as she watched you. You had played 4 games now, and still they playfully and harmlessly asked to keep going. So you looked over, a choked up smile on your face at the tired little beauty. 

She whispered to her dad back, and Marcus walked up to you, kneeling down enough so he and Missy were at your own level. His hand was cupping the back of her head, “Someone’s just a bit too tired to make it the entire night.”

You brushed a knuckle against her cheek. “Not waiting around for midnight? Even after all those light movie nights?” You and Marcus both knew that wasn’t true. Some days she struggled to fall asleep without her dad there, and she always wanted to stay up until he came home but fell asleep with her head in your lap anyways. 

She shook her head before wrapping her small arms around Marcus as much as she could reach, snuggling her face into him more. Muffled words came out, but you both were the only ones to hear her quiet plea. “Remember to leave a shoe.” 

Marcus chuckled as he pressed a kiss to her hair. His eyes looking over top his daughter to watch you mindlessly turn to the table and tossing a card play out that had the rest of the table groan in increasing defeat. 

It seems you played entertainer no more the second either of them came along. You turned in your seat, knees now dangerously close to bumping into Marcus. “And who is the prince supposed to be silly girl?” 

You could see her own brows furrow in a familiar fashion. Turning her head so the side of her face was smushed against his she tried to pull Marcus in closer. “Daddy.” 

Your heart fluttered, there was such a frustrated sincerity no doubt the former stemming from being so far away from her bed. Neither you or Marcus looked taken back by how quickly she answered. Missy was a smart cookie, it wasn’t so surprising that she picked up on the yearning leaking from both of you towards the other. 

Your only hang up was how affectionately Marcus smiled at her. He mumbled something to her in Spanish that you couldn’t quite pick up, but the words promise was definitely slipped in there. He adjusted her in his arms, so that as he leaned in close to your own face, it let Missy pause her hold on Marcus to wrap them around you. 

You felt your hands brush just slightly against the bare skin exposed on Marcus’s chest as you hugged her back. Pressing a kiss to her hair, you shivered as Marcus’s fingers brushed the hand at his chest. The slightest of firmer drags against your own fingers hitching the air in your lungs. 

The two of you found each others eyes with a darker emotion behind them that had your heart pumping harder then before. Finally he pulled Missy back into his chest, eyes on you as he leaned more to the ear furthest from the table. 

“I’m going up to my office for a while, okay?” It was something you’d heard many times before, but now there was a deeper husk, thick and heavy with what tasted like greed to the words. You only could nod, eyes no doubt wide and mouth slightly hanging open. 

Your chest heaving just once as you shakily exhaled what you didn’t even realize you were holding. The office that was on the next floor that you knew no one was on. You didn’t want to read into it, but more then once tonight there was a raking of his eyes over you that burned somewhere it really shouldn’t. 

Again, you barley paid attention to what you were doing as you watched him approach his mom, handing the now dozing off Missy to her as he kissed her forehead once more and said goodbye to both of them. 

No one was even paying attention to him, no one but you saw Marcus pause at the door. No one could see the clenched jaw as his fingers tapped against the frame, or the eyes that seemed to look down below your face and up before pushing off and disappearing. 

And no one but the empty hallway saw Marcus groan a strained string of swearing, as his hand reached to his jeans to adjust himself. He couldn’t stay in that room, watching you with with his daughter acting more like a mother then Missys real mom did. Watching you look at him with such bright and needy eyes that he’s not even sure if you realized you kept giving him. Or that gorgeous dress framing you so deliciously in a deep blue that matched his and his daughter’s outfits. 

He adjusted himself once more, the way you looked, the way you looked at him, and how much you matched tonight like a little family causing his jeans to tighten far more then he’d be able to hide in such a crowd. 

Now you were just jealous. Marcus was the one who managed to sneak away with no one noticing, but here you were. Still here, now leaning up against the bar denying any goads to join with more drinks from the increasingly rowdy team. 

You didn’t lie to yourself, it was nice to see them all so much looser then the usual professionalism and serious lives they normally lived when here. It felt much more like just a group of normal friends then who they really were. 

You had checked the clock a few times, and after it hit eleven you found yourself looking around to see if Marcus returned. Perhaps he went to his office to get away from people, did that include you? You practically lived at his house maybe he needed time away from you as well.

But then there was the fire that flashed in his eyes more then once tonight. A fire your imagination had only ever seen in the darkness of your bed in between quiet hitches of your breathe, but it never felt as intense as the real thing. 

Marcus might not have meant it that way, but deep in your subconscious there was a beg for it to be exactly that. Your conscious brain however, disguised it as a concern to check up on him. Just see if he’s okay and ignore the heat flooding your bloodstream, rising a sensitivity that extended to an uncomfortable awareness of how your dress rubbed against your skin like it wanted off. 

There was a melancholy yet liminal feeling as you walked up the stairs. Your heel rising enough from the shoe forced you to stumble a bit and slide your foot in more steadily. You smiled to yourself as you were knelt over, hand pressing the back of the shoe in more. 

Missy was ridiculous. Such a sweet and quiet girl, yet unashamed to be stubbornly vocal about things she really wants. She wanted you around more and more, and every time Marcus was home she always gave you such puppy eyes when you said goodbye. She was so attached to you and you were to her, so much so that on more than one occasion a stranger in public would call her your daughter or vice versa. 

Never once did Missy correct them, and it made you reluctant to correct the assertion either. If your phone wasn’t still tucked away in your coat pocket, you may have considered slipping the shoe off just long enough to take a picture. 

The girl was still a toddler, she still believed in fairytales and neither you or Marcus felt the need to break her of that illusion. 

As you wandered into the office floor, there was a beautiful blue light streaming in from the windows. The snow on the ground let the night sky reflect colour into it’s glow, and it lit up the office you once worked in. 

Tucked away in the corner by the far wall, as a tint of orange that took over the blue reflection. Not a vain man, Marcus’s office was small and cozy. Away from the larger, more lavish offices that the corporate heads preferred. 

The floor was silent as the carpet silenced the echo your shoes would otherwise have made. If you stretched your hearing, you could hear the faint scribbling of a pen, and coming up closer you had just enough of an angle to see his phone haphazardly tossed onto the small couch pushed up against the wall. Sitting on it’s side as it lay on the inside arm, it clearly landed there in carelessness rather then placed neatly. 

Marcus didn’t immediately notice your presence as you peeked inside. His well manicured curls were now tossed around, ruffled and more of a mess like his hands had been run through it. One extra button was undone on the shirt that now seemed to be more wrinkled and wrung around then in front of company. 

His glasses were also tossed upside aside on his desk, he didn’t arrive with them. He must have put them on to work, only to toss then off in another act of unknown frustration. The black rimmed frames always made him look handsome, but there was something about looking at him, bent over his desk, an elbow braced on the wood that held his head up in it’s hand. 

Without the glasses you could see his nose, the length of it sliding down his face and making you wonder why he ever could make negatively tinged jokes about it. 

As your feet patted into the room quietly, Marcus snapped his head up. Your name falling quietly from his lips. “You know people are going to notice their guest of honour slipped away.” 

You bowed your head bashfully, a not so sincere smile falling over your face. “Guest of honour’s a bit of a stretch.” You walked more inside properly but chose to lean against the bookshelf between the door and couch. “I’m more like the entertainment.” 

Your fingers tapped anxiously against the shelf. Muted thuds rhythmically filling the gaps of nothing. 

Marcus dropped his pen, running a hand through his hair confirming it was a mess of his own doing. He pushed back in his seat, but didn’t stand up. His arms crossed over his chest as he huffed out. “I’ll talk to them. They should know better.” 

Smiling you looked away, biting your lip sharply and letting it go as you turned back to him. “It’s not a big deal, they just wanted to have fun.” 

You watched his jaw clench again, paired with his brows furrowing and a distant look in his eyes as if looking through not at you. “No it is a big deal.” 

Pushing up you stood straighter ready to fight him on it, temper his nerves. “Sir-” 

The forming of a shiver in your spine crept to the surface when he stood up, body posturing like he was containing an anger inside. He coped your own position, both of you leaning back once more against the desk and shelf, respectively. “You don’t think I see what’s going on?” 

You hoped he didn’t see the gulp that tried to swallow your anxiety. He continued though. “They keep your nickname that those scumbags called you, Granada kicks you off my team,” His knuckles tightening their grip on his desk with the word ‘my’. “Then you leave, and the first time everyone sees you again they treat your abilities like you’re a main attraction at a carnival.” 

Your nails tried digging into the wood with no avail, “It’s fine Marcus. We tried and it didn’t work out, I may as well use it for fun at least.” 

The darkness in his eyes felt like anger, Marcus though wouldn’t ever direct it towards you. A brewing fire was sparking inside but you were given no reason to take shelter. “Do you?” Your eyebrows raised in question. “Use it for fun? Because I’m willing to gamble that you’ve never once used it for anything that would benefit you for the sake of it.” 

Marcus noticed his mistake as soon as you did. His face falling, he fought back a playful eyeroll as you pulled your own expression into an exaggerated mocking look. “Brave choice, gambling with the only person nicknamed for the god of it himself.” 

His jaw twitched as he discreetly licked his lower lip, head turned away from you. Shaking it incredulously, Marcus walked over to a cupboard, bending down to reveal a tiny safe he typed something into. Amusingly though, a cold steam rushed out along with light from a bulb. Just two shelves were inside, one with what appeared to be beer and two different bottles of another kind of liquor, the top one divided between a small stack of juice boxes and cans of soda. 

This time you grinned fully, watching him pull out a taller thin bottle along with two similarly stemmed glasses from the regular cupboard beside it. “Do all good dads keep their whiskey stored with their daughters juice?” 

He plopped everything onto the table before gesturing to the bottle that was in fact much lighter in colour. “Champagne is very different then whiskey I’ll have you know.” Your condescending smirk lightened the mood enough so a matching smirk graced his lips as he nodded his head back to the cupboards. “The other one’s scotch so that doesn’t count.” 

You laughed looking down to your feet before taking a few casual steps towards him, Marcus not moving to poor anything. Just watching you with a patient smile. You felt a little silly in your sparkling dress again. The rich blue the only thing about Marcus’s shirt that made it stand out from every other range of colour he wore of button up. The jeans were dark and blended in well, but as you stood there in something you spent way too much money for?

Well that uncomfortable itch once again rubbed against your skin in annoyance. You felt far too casual for how good he looked in any normal clothes he wore. Even his tactical wear wasn’t flashy or fancy, just dark and normal only attached with gear and not nearly enough armour. 

It wasn’t often you were compelled to fill the lull with words, but his eyes had softened too much towards you to handle. “I uh- just came to check on you. You’ve been gone a while, thought maybe you were trying to get out of the countdown.” 

Marcus shook his head casually, “Not really, I’ve just had my fill of big parties for a while. Our Christmas one wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.” 

Eyes squinting with a head tilt, you found yourself close enough to perch on the back of the chair facing his desk. Still more then arms reach away from him for safe keeping. “I thought..well because you hosted it you would enjoy it?” 

You had seen some of the preparations, but anything you were there to see him work on it he was usually also on the phone arguing with another vendor. “Usually the heads host it, but Granada’s having renovations so it got dumped onto me. Not exactly how I planned on spending the night.” 

Was that guilt you felt once again for not showing up? “Yeah um, Missy showed me the schedule she drew out, told me all about what the movie was supposed to be that day.” You smiled to yourself thinking about it. “I put it on during the morning so she could still have it with someone.” 

That deep intensity in his eyes returned, so you backtracked. Worried you just did exactly what you were trying to avoid. “I didn’t mean, I wasn’t trying to take over your night. I just, she was upset the adults wouldn’t want to watch it during the party and asked if I’d watch it..I wasn’t trying to step on your toes, I know it’s your thing.”

Marcus pushed up from where he leaned on the desk, his arms out slightly to try and coerce you to calm down without coming into your personal space. “Take a breathe, cariño. There we go, you’re alright.” 

You weren’t sure when the room started to spin or when your heart betrayed it’s pattern, but Marcus’s voice was so soothing it pulled it right back down. You nodded as he spoke and took a few deep breaths, his shoulders relaxing as your body did. 

“You’re good with her.” This time you didn’t even nod along to his words to appear polite and civil. There was something about invading in his private life that just kept setting you off. Kept you on a leash and yanked you back every time you started to forget you were here for a job given to you out of convenience. 

“I don’t think there’s been one day after you leave that Missy doesn’t ask why can’t you stay.” He laughs as his hands finds a home on the belt loops at his hips. “And every time shes grumpy when I remind her that you have your own life away from us.” The quiet void in the air was think and suffocating, and Marcus was about to deal the killing blow. 

He moved to pull the stem glasses closer, reaching for something to carefully pull the cork out. You teased him before you could stop yourself. “Isn’t that supposed to be a midnight countdown thing?” 

Marcus smirked, not bothering for any fancy gestures only a simple corkscrew to pull it out. Just like every thing else about Marcus; genuine, refusing to be flashy or show off. “I’ve spilt enough on this carpet. I don’t need to add alcohol to that mix.” 

Tossing the crew out of sight behind his desk, it didn’t occur to you right away the pull and push of a drawer that he didn’t touch. Not flashy. His powers just existed as a part of him. 

Pouring one glass until it was full, you jutted forward starting to protest. Marcus though only poured half. He put the bottle to the side, and gently picked the smaller amount to hand to you. You didn’t like to drink a lot. Not just on an occasion basis, but in amount too. You never told Marcus that, but he knew it all the same. 

Instead of waiting for you, Marcus came to you. His broad body felt like it towered over you with how all encompassing he was. No glasses to obstruct your view of those brown eyes you adored and his mouth just close enough to you that you felt the tail end of his words on you. 

“There’s plenty of ways to celebrate anyways.” 

Your heart constricted, trying not to let the buzzing in your body come from anything deeper. “Judging by the sounds of it, downstairs is about to choose the screaming and yelling option.” 

Sound was more muffled, but in the emptiness of the office floor there was a growing rowdiness in the air. Neither of you were sure what time it was, but honestly it didn’t matter. There was enough alcohol in that party it would say it for you. 

Your eyes narrowed playfully as he brought the glass up to his mouth, “Isn’t the polite thing to make a formal toast, sir?” The sir may have been far more mocking then you’d ever say back when you worked in this very building. 

Marcus just chuckled though. Leaning his lower back against the desk, you didn’t really notice it. But his hand twitched. One part of him wanted to reach out to grab your hand, and pull you close, the other wanted to just pull the metal on your bracelet over so he had an excuse to hold you in his arms to catch you. For now though he chose neither. 

“I’d rather just have your company if that’s alright.” 

Your heart pounded, your nails tapping against the glass as you stood awkwardly. Not knowing where to go or how to sit in case it breaks his air between you. So you nodded, and brought your glasses up together to take a drink. 

Well, Marcus did. You on the other hand bent your head back to swallow the whole thing. Once again, your nails tapped against the glass only now it was empty. Marcus tilted his head before reaching blindly to sit his glass down. 

Pushing up you assumed the hand he reached out was to grab the glass, instead he grabbed the glass with it and turned to put it down as well. While his back was turned though, you felt something non existent tugging at your wrist, tripping you in place only to be grabbed by Marcus smoothly steadying you with one hand on your upper arm and the other on your hip. 

“Do you normally skip giving a girl a little warning?” The play died on your tongue as his fingers slid up to brush your jaw and just under your chin. Tilting it up to look at him better. 

The playfulness was gone from him as well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” 

“I was kidding,” That was true, but your limbs buzzed too much to pretend like there wasn’t a trembling shiver in your body. 

Marcus’s hand tightened on your hip, not painfully but pulling it closer to him so as he stood he was closer to being flush with you. His thumb reached to rub against your cheek. “You’re nervous.” Too close to hide the anxious biting down on your lip, his thumb hopped across your skin to tug your bottom lip free, never moving it away. Just keeping his thumb pressed against the plushness. 

“I want to show you something.” He rubbed his arms over where they were pressed against your body before circling around his desk to pull out a folded sheet of paper. 

Jutting his head to the side, you followed suit. Marcus spoke without prompt. “Missy asked me if we could see Santa this year. She was so excited, had her in a dress with reindeer all over it, I had to settle her down when she was jumping to stand in line all by herself.” 

Your throat choked up at the pure love he felt for his daughter, how even just a cute memory of maybe a week ago had him emotional. You breathed out a light laugh. “She asked me if I wanted her to tell Santa something for me.” 

Marcus twiddled with the edges of the paper, flicking a corner up and down as tore his eyes away from it to look at you, that expression of adoration never changing. “Told her to draw what she wanted for Santa, in case she forgot anything. Refused to show me until after she already saw him.” Slowly he started to unfold it, sure to keep what was on it out of your vision. “She let me keep it though, just in case Santa forgets too.” 

The joking tone made you both laugh. 

Gently he reached the mere foot gap out to hand it to you, the image on the other side still not visible. You didn’t turn it over right away, just held it in your hands. “I’m not sure I should be privy to such confidential information.” 

Marcus didn’t laugh. Choosing to close the gap by a few inches, his hand nudging the paper up. Indicating he wanted you to turn it over. Speaking low and deep as you did so. “You are for this one.” 

It was in crayon. One image dominated the entire paper, two taller figures stood next to each other with the vaguest resemblance to Marcus, and a woman. A mostly stick hand from Marcus reaching out to a smaller figure that was clearly her. Amusingly noted that she gave herself impossibly long luscious locks. 

The female though, the first thing your brain tried to do was place her mothers image onto it. But it just didn’t fit no matter how you shaped it. Her hair a different colour then her mothers up in what Missy tried to draw as a bun at the top of their head. Which you were pretty sure that woman never put her hair up the entire time you knew her. 

The shape didn’t match either. Thin and skinny like a stick drawing suited her mother, but this was drawn to be a child’s interpretation of curvy. Though it looked more like the wave of a waterbed then a human body the intent was clear. 

Under each person was overlapping scribbles of her and Marcus’s name, and yours at the end. The thing that made this a hint of what she wanted though, was what she drew above you. An arrow with a heart mushed into the middle of the arrowhead, and on the other end was “Mama”. 

This time the shaking was obvious to both of you. Your eyes stung as tears were being refused permission to fall and your next breathe was raspy and almost felt like a subdued sob. 

Marcus wasn’t mad, or offended, or upset. He had looked at that drawing with a yearning that you had seen time and time again when Missy wanted you to stay before her dad even came home. You wouldn’t replace her mom, you couldn’t. It wasn’t right. 

So why did Marcus not protest, why did he look so fondly at it, why were his hands cupping your cheeks. “Look at me, cariño.” Your heart was erratic, but you stood calmly. His eyes all too easy to drown in. “No one is pressuring you. I won’t force you to do or say anything,” 

One hand of his left your cheek to grasp one of yours holding the paper. “Missy cares about you, and I care about you.” Gently he guided your hand to place the paper on his desk and then stayed on your waist as your hands nervously hovered between you both. Not knowing what to do. “You can’t imagine how much I care about you, how often I think about you.” 

His grip on your waist tightening, bunching the material up slightly in his hand. His face leaned into you, shocking your system with how soft and warm his face was compared to how gruff and held back his tone came out. “How little I want you to leave every single time I come home and see you with my daughter.” 

The grip on you tightened, and relaxed completely in seconds. Marcus was still holding something back, but those brown eyes begged you of something. “But it has to be your choice. You’ll mean the world to me no matter what but you have to make this decision.”  

The muscles in his chest and stomach tensed as your fingers found the courage to rest there. Not quite yet ready to hold him as he did you, but the racing of Marcus’s own heart spoke to you when your fingers traced around the chest he teased you with. 

There was a terror that rung through you that you were imagining this, that you’d close your eyes and wind up right back where you started. Or worse, that he’d pull away and be kicked to the curb from another part of his life. 

But he was so close. Marcus teasingly nudged his nose against yours and brushing it softly across it, but never moved his lips to you. He wouldn’t do it himself, he wanted you to chose it of your own volition and it didn’t miss you that despite you being the most anxious and worried about these feelings being reciprocated, Marcus was the one who wanted to be sure. 

Timing had a funny relationship with life. Movies and books loved to play the ‘first kiss at the stroke of midnight’ trope, yet there was nothing but the hesitant stuttered breathe in the air as you leaned up. 

Your fingers grasped the edges of his shirt just a tad bit needier, eyes shut as you closed the distance between your lips with the gentlest of brushes. Marcus barley even got a chance to kiss you back, lips brushing together light as a feather. You pulling away just as he was ready to pull you into him properly. 

But you gave him the smallest of touch, still worried even now that you would be reading it wrong. Marcus didn’t feel the same way. His fingers once again found the bottom of your chin as he now much more playfully brushed his nose against yours. 

His arm slid around your waist to pull you closer into him, chuckling at the light grin you gave him. You more confidently pressed your palms onto his chest just as a rowdy noise made itself known from below. 

The distinct sound of counting made you laugh and Marcus to whisper into your cheek, “What?” 

Fingers sliding to his neck to rake themselves into his curls caused Marcus’s eyes to flutter. “Bad timing. We’re supposed to kiss at the end of the countdown.”

Dark eyes seeked something in your gaze, and he found it. Almost as if each movement was tied to the beat of a number, Marcus pushed your hips back into the wall pressing his hips into yours. Hands squeezing the plush skin of your hips that hid from him, your arms filled with lead. A weight tore them from Marcus’s neck and forced them up above your head and the force pressed them there without mercy. 

Metal bracelets, you didn’t even intend anything like it when you put them on. 

Marcus pushed your hips more into the wall, his breathing heavy in your face as he revealed in the shifting your hips wanting, needing more of the growing bulge that pressed into them.

Your eyes looked into each other, the distinct final seconds muffled but understood below. Marcus raised his eyebrows, and you nodded exactly one. 

If he had planned this part out, he was a genius. Just as the yelling of ‘one’ rang out, so did the click of the rooms lock echo in the air. Before the party below could even yell out their celebration, Marcus took charge. 

Pressing his entire body against yours, leaving no room for even a sliver as he pressed his lips roughly to yours. He moved your mouth the way he wanted, the way he could feel you craved. He held nothing back, the sudden roughness came through by the sound of moans, he slightly wet smack as your mouth moulded against his drowned out whatever was happening in the party below. 

Marcus consumed the kiss, pulling your hips into his strained cock behind his jeans as one hand slid behind to grasp at your ass to keep them there. His fingers digging into the cheek so much that he’d have time later to admire such distinct bruises on you.

Your hands were once again pulled in whatever manner Marcus desired. Forcing them up back to his neck, one of them holding you upright as you felt the scratch of his facial hair if you touched high enough. The other raking into his hair, finally allowing you the freedom to touch him as you pleased. And your touch wanted to scratch your nails into his curls. 

Marcus broke away from the kiss as he moaned louder then even he expected, a harsh “fuck,” following suit. He chuckled, moving to hold your chin more firmly. Tilting you up to look at his him. 

His chest was heaving but the much more swollen plush of his lips called to you like a siren. Your attention tried to slide down to trace your fingers down his chest but he kept your eyes on him. Leaving you only able to try and release each button as you found it until his torso was bare. 

Marcus guided your hands in his, helping you gently push the rest of his shirt down his arms until you had to let go. He was so incredibly broad. It felt as if he was taking up your entire field of view leaving you with the only choice of raking your eyes down it. Broad shoulders and back with such strong arms. 

Arms that made your mouth water, those arms and his abilities could render you immobile, it could leave you at his complete control. But what had your lungs hitching was the softer stomach, a realness without any ego or desire to have that strength just to show off in abs. 

No he was soft, and real, and you wanted to reach out to run your hands over his stomach, but he didn’t let you. Stepping back into your personal space he bunched up the sides of your dress, “Gonna let me see what’s under here, cariño?” 

Biting your lip as you nodded, Marcus knelt down in front of you. His hands smoothing over your calves as he pressed his forehead into your hips. He inhaled trying to find any scent of you, agitating him that there were too many layers. 

He was careful though, starting slow. Lifting your foot up comfortably and slid each shoe off of you one by one, then back to running his hands over your legs and up your thighs. He didn’t let the dress obstruct his goal though. You could see the bumps under the material where his hands explored as the callousness of his fingertips tickled the sensitive skin. 

His large, warm hands suddenly grasped the waistband of your leggings and looked up at you with a murmur of your name. The question was not asked but your, “please” was still the answer. 

Marcus slid his fingers inside a tinge more and snagged the ends of your underwear in his grasp as well, still seeking that yes. Your nails ran over his scalp again, and a full body shiver left him this time. A shiver that had him once again pressing his forehead into your hips, and then yanking your bottoms down in one go. 

The abrupt pull had you jump, but Marcus pressed the bottom of your thigh up so he could lift each remaining pant leg off. Your eyes fluttered closed in a held back whine, missing him tossing your leggings out of sight, and standing up as he clenched your underwear in his fist. Your head was thrown back, and he took the chance to shove what was yours into his back pocket. 

“Marcus, I-” You reached out for him to come back into you. Fingers binding together as he leaned in, pushing your body back into the wall with much less force this time. His fingers traced and brushed your bottom lip, “please kiss me.” Your voice much smaller and meeker then you had meant to say it like. 

A smile formed on his lips, both hands cupping your face tenderly as he went in to kiss you. You gripped his sides, thick and strong under your palms. 

He kissed you with less force, but no less demanding. You let him do with you as he pleased, and gave no trouble when he bit your bottom lip. A gasp of pleasure, and he slid his tongue inside your mouth. Tracing along yours and taking each moan that came up your throat. 

One of your arms reached around his neck again and to press his kiss and tongue deeper into your mouth while the other wrapped now around his waist and pulled his hips into you. The bulge rubbing into you, pressure on your clit frustratingly interrupted by both your layers. “Oh god,” 

Marcus bunched the sides of your dress up, only this time more and more of your bare skin reached his touch. His mouth teased you by pulling away, softening his kiss almost too much and pulling away from your lips. His thumb shifted to rub over the skin of your hips without letting your dress fall back down. 

His touch burning in it’s path you let out a whimper, and once again Marcus consumed your mouth, wasting no time in coaxing your tongue to explore. You could feel his breathing grow ragged, and his hips pushing into you aggressively, making you cry out in need. 

In an instance, Marcus’s patience snapped just a little too much, pulling away from your mouth so a trail of saliva followed his pull back. He gave you no time to think as Marcus yanked up your dress and tossed it out of his life. 

You felt so cold and exposed as he shamelessly looked you up and down, “Fuck.” Ambushing you again he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you again. 

His mouth not lasting long, as he kissed and bit down your neck. The burn from his facial hair leaving your already ravaged neck scratched red. Both large hands reached around, squeezing and pulling with a cheek in each hand. His grip on your ass made him push you into his hips as he pressed into yours. 

Gasping out, “Please, I want to feel you.” You reached to his belt and he paused. His adams apple bobbed and your ass slid from his grasp. Kneeling down you cupped the massive bulge in his jeans, kissing and sucking teases to his cock hiding underneath. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of you undoing his belt, pulling down the zipper. 

Not quite all the way, you pulled his jeans down enough that his cock was released. Right in your face, his tip was red and leaking already, and down from there your eyes widened at the thickness of his cock. Length alone would intimidate you, but his cock was big, so big he’d stuff you full. 

You ran your thumb over his tip, revealing in his moaning and shaking. There was so much precum that you slicked it all over his cock as you stroke him. Slow soft jerks, lubing him up only increasing in speed a fraction each stroke. 

You could tell he wanted you to speed up so badly, you could feel yourself getting wet as you watched your hand try to encompass his cock. Thighs pressing together wasn’t cutting it but you couldn’t stop looking at his cock, your hand refusing to leave either. 

Marcus’s breathing sped up, thighs trembling as you had only just started to stroke his cock anything above slow and teasingly paced. A large hand started to smooth over your hair, his voice coming out in a husk. “Come up here, baby.” 

Gracefully he grasped your hand and helped you stand up, almost like a gentleman would a lady. Just as gentle, Marcus pulled your face in to press his lips against yours. His kiss still full of greed and teeth and tongue, but without the roughness this time. 

Before you realized, his hands grasped your waist and turned your back against the desk. “Hop up.” Just as you tried to hop behind you without looking embarrassing Marcus just grabbed at you, moving you up onto the desk. His eyes memorized by the jostle the quick move bounced in your skin. 

You wanted to trace his own skin but Marcus pulled back to take the rest of his own clothes off. Unsure where to even look, his still slick cock, his soft stomach leading up to his broad large chest, or the bright shine in his eyes, accentuating his face. Your hands grabbed at his waist pulling him to stand between your legs as you slid your palm and nails over his stomach, one of them abandoning the soft issue to slide up the length of his body and cupping the rough brush of facial hair on his cheek. 

“Tell me Moreno, how long has it been since anyone told you how beautiful you were?” Oh that turned him red real fast, the burn in his cheeks a bit of a hint but the blushing design down his chest told an even better story. You smoothed your thumb over the bald patch on his jaw and decided it was exactly where you wanted to kiss him. 

So that’s what you did, leaving your lips to brush against his skin you melt Marcus turn his own head into your neck, leaving a gentle lick and kiss against the bites he just devoured you with. “I’m supposed to be seducing you, cariño. Not the other way around.” 

Thick fingers slid up and down your wet entrance before rubbing at your clit. His hand held you at the back of your neck, keeping you from escaping his mouth as he rubbed circles into you, only leaving just to gather more to keep you nice and wet for him everywhere. 

“You- fuck, you do enough, Marcus. I want to, let me take care of you.” That was the wrong thing to say apparently. His fingers paused, not leaving you clit but ceasing all movement. Instead keeping a steady pressure that had your insides heating up. 

Leaving the back of your neck, he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. Brows narrowed and a rush fell over you at the serious way he looked at you. “No. You do too much for everyone.” 

Face twisting in confusion, two fingers started to circle your clit again now rough but slow. “I don’t understand.” 

Marcus groaned almost closer to a growl, reaching down to caress your breast, fingers tweaking over your nipple, giving a tug that had you whine. His lips pressed into your jaw and up to you ear as he massaged the sensitive bud. 

“Of course you don’t. You always try to make everyone happy, do everything you think they want. Let me change that, cariño. Please.” Your hand suddenly moved on it’s own from digging your nails into his shoulder blade to the other neglected breast. 

You nuzzled your head closer to his, getting the message you gave a similar treatment to your other nipple, just more apprehensive and gentle then Marcus treated you. He needed you to say it though, he needed to hear you tell it to him. 

You shuddered as he whispered your name into you ear, “Tell me. Tell me you’ll stop. I need you to tell me that you’re going to let me finally take care of you for once. Please?” 

There was a beg in his voice that had you choked up, a desperation to care for you that threatened tears if you said anything more then yes. So that's all you did. “Yes, please.” 

You didn’t even protest that his fingers left your nipple and your clit, instead you sighed out as your foreheads rested against each other, your hands both holding the other at the waist. Marcus lifted his head enough to press a kiss to your forehead and rubbed his nose against yours. “That’s all I’ll ask for okay? That’s all I want, you just like this.” 

Your heart raced as he pulled away, his large hands shoving your legs to the sides even more. His cock bounced in his step as he closed the gap to run the tip over your sensitive clit, and down to smear his precum into your own soaked entrance. 

Marcus gripped the base of his cock and pulled you a tad more to the edge with a hand guiding you on your ass. His cock rubbing up and down, your head thrown back biting your lip to contain a whine and Marcus’s jaw clenched and eyes dark as he watched you both. 

“Look at me.” Commanding, an order, your head flew up to look at him properly like a subject compelled to always follow it’s leader. Brown eyes narrowed as he pushed his cock into your pussy. His gaze watching your gasp, how your mouth fell open from how full he stretched you. It soaked you all that much more how badly he wanted to see you not just feel you. 

You held onto his shoulders tightly as he just pushed inside. Sliding against your warm walls until he was as deep as you could let him be. Your nerves were on overdrive, you could feel so much of him it drove you crazy. “Marcus,”  you managed to whimper out, but that sweet simmer flared back up into an inferno. 

Marcus pulled back before slamming harshly back inside of you, his lips shoving against yours in tandem. Your lips let his tongue explore you however he wanted, all you could focus on was trying desperately to keep up with the pounding of his cock. 

Each slap of his skin against yours may was well been a scream in an echo chamber. It bounced off the walls and back into your ears. You felt that burning need inside you as he slid inside you. Both of his arms wrapped around you as he kissed you

Surprisingly, he used his position to pull you up with him as he sat back in his chair. His cock still deep inside your cunt, slid even further as he bounced you down onto him completely. You cried out and Marcus instantly raked through your hair with gentle shushes. 

Rising up just enough to feel his cock stroke your inner walls so sharply you moaned out his name. Your hips were commandeered as he started to bounce you up and down his cock. The coarse hair around his cock glistened with how much you were soaking his lap. 

Marcus thrusted up against such a sensitive spot inside of you that you clenched hard around his cock. Hard enough that he had to push roughly to let him fuck you deep enough. You pressed a kiss to him, but the bounce of you on his cock made it hard. 

Your breasts bounced just as hard and you felt a deer coiling as his cock pulled intense pleasure from you every slide of his cock. His arms pulled you close to his body, your head resting down on his shoulder as he sped up his pace. Fucking his cock up into you faster as he spat out through gritted teeth. 

“Do you know how many times much I jerked off thinking about you?” Another fiery rush blew through you as you were at the mercy of his cock and his words. Both pounding into you leaving you breathless. “Every night stroking my cock desperately wishing it was you. Angry that I never brought you up to my bed and fucked you so much sooner.” 

“Fuck, I did too, Marcus I did to- oh my god,” Your voice strained into a moan as his hands pulled at your ass cheeks as he fucked into you, the wet squelch of his cock drowning inside of you just had you soaking around his cock even more. And his hard Marcus squeeze his eyes shut trying to force words out through every fibre in his body tensing up in pleasure. 

“Take such good care of my daughter, such good care of me,” The wet slap echoed with the pounding of your skin together as he pulled you towards the edge. “It’s my turn, sweet girl. Cum for me now, and I’ll give you it every single day.” 

His shallow thrusts pushed you over the edge, cumming around his cock and crying his name into his neck. Your back arching as white hot pleasure had you holding onto him for dear life. Unruly sounds clawed their way out of your throat and still his cock fucked your soaked pussy without slowing.

Marcus didn’t let up, fucked you with his cock fast, your ass jiggling from the force. His voice finally pitched, stuttering moans as he grasped your hair. Pulling you up to rub his nose against your cheek, no demanding or teasing.

Just a wrecked moan as you held each other, your ears still ringing as you whined. His voice just as desperate as your pussy felt. Muttering Spanish into your skin, only switching back as he gave final pounding thrusts. His cock throbbing inside of you as his thighs below tensed. “Please, hermosa please.” 

The plea was useless, Marcus hadn’t even finished speaking before he gripped your body so tight his knuckles turned white. His cum spilling inside of you, warm and thick and it seemed to just keep spurting as he slowed his thrusts gradually. 

The dark hair rubbing into your clit and how his cock through everything never let up from the sensitive needy part inside of you had you weightless. Floating in his arms as his own muttering praises sounded underwater. 

Gradually though, you felt him again. Hands through your hair and lips pressing against your head as the water drained. His deep voice relaxed, and his cock keeping his thick cum deep in you. Not yet willing to leave the warmth of your pussy. 

You chuckled a bit, pushing past the lead in your brain holding it down to cup his cheeks. This kiss was the most innocent by far. The one you gave him before was nervous, unsure before he ravaged your lips and your body. 

Now though? You enjoyed a tender press against the other, your body relaxing into his, Marcus content with leaving back in the chair with you on top of his cock like a blanket. 

For a while you stayed that way, neither of you feeling any rush to move. No one was going to walk in, and for once, neither of you needed to sacrifice time together for anything else. You kept his cock inside of you, his thickness pushed so deep inside of you kept your nerves alight, and your own walls surrounding him kept Marcus unwilling to let you go. 

“Come home with me.” Your head rushed up to look at him with questioning eyes. “At least for tonight? Missy’s with my mom until tomorrow afternoon.” 

His cheeks were wide as he smiled at you. “I’m selfish, I want to keep you with me for a while.” His hips shifted to tease you, knowing even his cock when soft was still large and thick. “Even if it’s mostly in my bed.”  

You grinned at him, “Now sir, isn’t it a bit cliche to start sleeping with the nann-” You yelped in a laugh as Marcus tickled your sides. 

He held his own smile, unobstructed by anything weight either of you down from days precious. “Don’t start that. You keep calling me sir, and I’m going to start treating the way a sir would.” His eyes were lustful but he jumped to tickle one last spot. Both of you laughing as you ended up collapsing into his chest rather then pulling away from him. 

“Is it okay though?” 

Marcus looked up to you, his thumb over your bottom lip again as you clarified. “Is it okay to come over- stay over I mean. I just don’t want Missy thinking...” 

Marcus captured your lips in another chaste kiss. “Missy asked Santa if he could make you her mom for Christmas. I think we’re well past you needing to worry about your place in our lives.” 

You knew he meant it this time. There was an affection in his eyes for those he loved, a soft kindness that shined through every aspect about him. But there also was a tiny possessive voice in the back of his head you were starting to understand. 

One that he let out as he fucked you, but also maybe a quieter one that associated possessiveness over you to wanting to ensure you knew you belong. Neither of you were people who felt things lightly, and the time it took to tear your lips apart long enough to even pull his cock from your pussy spoke miles about how little either of you wanted to pretend otherwise anymore. 

To the parties credit, no one really noticed in the end that you left. They also didn’t notice that Marcus had an arm around you the entire time, holding your coat out to put over you. Nothing but an empty parking lot also got to witness Marcus’s rare moment of embarrassment. 

Both of you had debated where to stop and grab something to eat. Stuck between two options, Marcus did what Missy always tried with him. Rock, paper scissors. It took 5 whole tries for him to remember how stupid he was. You didn’t even glance at your hands whatsoever the entire time. Just watching him with a fond but amused expression as he looked up from your constant wins to your smug smile.

Lucky indeed that no one was around to notice him growling out what a brat you were as he gave you a greedy kiss, pushing you up against his car in another lack of self control. 

They didn’t need to know right now. You cared about them, but it was also a memory of a life you never got to live up to. 

The rest of the night truth be told was uneventful. You ate some late night garbage, and didn’t make it much further then Marcus helping you both get ready for bed. Only stopping briefly to pull you back into his chest, watching you brush your teeth in the mirror draped in one of his tee shirts. Your head nuzzled back into him as he leaned and pressed greedy kisses into your neck. 

You passed out in his arms rather quickly. Marcus though, watched your peaceful face for a while. Stroking your hair as he did so. 

He wondered if he should feel guilty for how perfect this felt, how perfect it worked out. He found you hoping to guide you into a companionship in the very team he leaded, only to watch your dreams crumble while the facade of his happy marriage finally exposed itself. 

He laughed to himself, your smug little smirk as he realized how much you just played him for laughs. A way you hadn’t used your ability in longer then he could think of. Maybe it was a start. 

Marcus didn’t work in the field for the Heroics anymore, and you were finding a life outside of that at the same time. If he weren’t needy or selfish, Marcus would feel guilty for how his love only found yours through your dreams dashed. 

But, you used your ability in the parking lot with him, not to play entertainment, not to be a useful spectacle. No you did it just for fun, to make you giggle and you laughed even harder seeing that he was just as cutely amused as you were. 

It was a step in the right direction, and now you both had each other to support that from now on. Missy as well. God knows the second she found out about you both, Marcus knew she was going to try and throw a parade about it. 

She didn’t see you as trying to replace her mother, neither did Marcus and neither did his own mother. Missy started to call you mom nervously when you weren’t around, and Marcus slipped up more then once about it as well.

So he pulled you close into his chest more. Kissing your sleeping forehead, before nuzzling into you back. Your arms wrapped around each other was the best take away from this night there could be.

You were part of their family now, part of their love. That’s all that mattered. 

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x f!reader #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno fic #pedro pascal x reader

[istadris]

We all know how Luigi adopted Polterpup and how everyone finds it ironic since he's scared of ghosts.

What if he found an abandoned and hurt baby bat (not Antasma) while visiting Pi'illo Island and decides to adopt it too because he can't possibly let the poor thing suffer like this, the bat getting attached to him after he cares for it and sees him as its parent. Grew attached too but is hesitant to take it with him since he doesn't know if it'll survive in a whole other habitat and he's reluctant to ask Prince Dreambert for permission. In the end the bat goes with him.

I feel like this would benefit him because he naturally loves taking care of others and so having someone new added to the family who's a bit more dependent on him really allows him to let those urges out. Also, it helps his guilt because while he will fight villains to save his loved ones and stop evil schemes that can damage the world, he still feels bad for hurting others and making their urges for evil worse due to hatred.

So he has Polterpup for King Boo, who despite all the terrors he's put him through, he feels bad for trapping him so many times and keeping him away from his boos. The baby bat for Antasma, because he feels guilty for fighting him after he was betrayed and the fight resulted in his death. (Dimentio doesn't count here for obvious reasons-). I just think it'd really fit.

Also, I keep picturing the baby bat being albino, no idea why, but I do.

My only objection to all of this might have been that Luigi is such a disaster magnet, animals often end up hating him or biting him, on the exception of Polterpup, or that he's too much of a mess to take care of a pet that's not already a ghost.

But then it hit me. Of COURSE Luigi would end up looking after a scary-looking, ghost-like, bitey little thing ! How much do you want to bet that he met it when it flew right into his face during a walk, and Luigi spent several minutes screaming and trying to get it off his hair while screaming "GHOOOOOOST" ? He's only allowed to have a pet if he goes through hell before adopting it XD

Plus, I'm thinking about Partners in Time where, even if sometimes he messes up, he has very nurturing instincts, always taking care of the babies and having his baby self grow so attached to him he doesn't want to leave adult Luigi...And also Polterpup himself! Puppy was a little troublemaker when he first met Luigi, causing trouble just to play, and at the end, despite all the trouble caused, all it took was a sad puppy look for Luigi to forgive everything and bring back puppy home!

I also love very much the idea that it's his way of making up for hurting some of his ennemies. He's a forgiving type, our Luigi, much like his brother; despite the ghosts harassing him in every Luigi's Mansion, the moment they stop being hostile or brainwashed, he's all up for putting the past behind and having fun with them. If King Boo wasn't so bent on ending his game, maybe Luigi would give him a chance too.

Anyway, back to baby bat : yes to it, and also imagine Antasma coming back with a whole plan to get into Luigi's good graces and obtain his powers by manipulating him...

And then he finds Luigi cuddling an adorable little bat and calling it sweet names.

The screech ! The outrage !!

#super mario bros #miscellaneous mario madness #Luitasma #sorta ? #gonna put every Luigi & Antasma centric stuff in that tag now #answers

[junglxqueen]

The Verstappen Devil [03]

In which you get the most important people in her life. A/N: Imagine this whole conversation in the whole chapter is in german.

When I met Mick I just was a little kid (Somewhere around 8 or 10).  It was a wednesday, I think, and my father had a driver’s meeting. He dropped me off at the building’s daycare and who was there? An annoying blonde kid (at the time I considered him annoying because he wouldn’t leave me alone but now that I think about it, he was just a sweet kid that wanted to make friends).

I have to admit, I didn’t start with a good foot. Instead I fought him for every little thing that he did. I even made him cry telling him that he was adopted (I had a really bad day and I took it out with him, I still feel bad about it).  At the end, after what seemed like 5 minutes of him crying non-stop I felt guilty and I went to apologize to him. Quickly we made up and when we started talking we realized we both had a lot in common: We both had parents that drove super fast cars for a living, we both liked cars and we really enjoyed watching scooby-doo. We were like twin siblings separated at birth!

Since that moment we didn’t stop talking, we went everywhere together, we called each other on the land lines and talked for hours, we did everything together, we were like attached to the hips. His father welcomed me to his home with open arms, I considered his family like mine and my family? Well, I’ll say they liked him more than me.

Ten years pass by and our friendship is still going strong. We even moved in together last summer when I found out that I was going to be racing in F1.

Why keep separated apartments if we aren’t going to be home most of the time? It’s just a waste of money and we could get a better place if we unified our funds. Also, even before we moved in together we spent most of our free time with each other, so it seemed like a no-brainer for us.

His family didn’t have a problem but I think Seb was a little annoyed with the idea of me moving out. Hanna (God bless her) ended up convincing him that I was old enough and it was time for him to let go and for me to “open my wings”.

So he gave in to the idea, not without making us promise that we would keep a day of the week to have a meal all together. “To keep the family alive, and for the old times” he said (I think he just was scared of losing us).

And that day was today, Monday. Normally we would have dinner together and maybe play some games or watch movies. Today we had a little competition of who had the best pizza. It was Hanna and Seb against us. Theirs was excellent, maybe Seb’s was missing a little bit of salt but Hanna’s was great. Ours on the other hand… not so good. Mick’s was sweet (he confused the salt with the sugar), and I forgot mine in the oven so it was a little bit… crispy let’s say.  We definitely used much more cutlery than what we had to. So Mick and I stayed cleaning the dishes while they put the kids to sleep.

After a while we all went to the living room and sat on the sofa as Mick brought a bottle of champagne with glasses.

“Champagne?” I asked surprised as he sat next to me on the sofa for two. He smiled at me excitedly as he opened the bottle.

“Yes Schatz, because today we are celebrating!” Mick answered as he poured the liquids into the cups. Hanna let out an excited cheer and applauded. He gave us the glasses and Seb stood up with the cup in hand. Mick placed his arm on my shoulders and I curled on his side with my head on his shoulder and cup on my hand, ready to listen to my dad’s words.

He kept quiet for a second, thinking, before clearing his throat and placing his eyes on mine. 

“Yesterday was an extremely important day for you Y/N. Not only was your first race in Formula 1, which alone is already a huge accomplishment, but also you made your first points for your team. And that is amazing! I still maintain my word that that was too risky tho” He narrowed his eyes, to which I rolled my eyes with a smile and Hanna slapped his side as a ‘not now’.  “Moving from that, I have to admit that it wasn’t a surprise. I don’t think it was a surprise for any of us” He looked at Hanna and Mick and they denied with their heads. I look at them feeling my eyes get glossy and the warmth in my heart. “You see?” He looked back at me as I fought to keep my tears in place.  “What you did yesterday was incredible and we all knew that you could do it. And you have no idea how much I screamed when I saw you cross that line”

 I had, I had an idea actually. He doesn't know but had his radio on and the whole world could hear his excited screams of “That’s my little girl” or "I knew it! I knew that she could do it!" and I'm not planning on telling him neither. When I heard his voice I cried so much and I saved those audios to be able to hear them later on.

 “You are my little girl Y/N and you are growing so much, it kinda makes me sad and scared but at the same time it makes me so proud to see the woman that you are becoming.” 

When I see the tears on his face I decide that there’s no point fighting mine anymore so I just let them be. Mick looks down at me and kisses the top of my head as he caresses my arm.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you, and even if you leave this all behind to become a teacher, or do anything else, or do nothing, no matter what. I’m proud of you Y/N and I’ll always be.” His voice cracks at that last phrase, so he takes a minute and clears his throat before continuing. “So, here’s a toast for yesterday, for what you’ve done. For today, for who you are, and for tomorrow, for what is to come.” 

I smile as they click their cups. I place mine on the table and I raise to hug my dad in the tightest and warmest hug that I can give him. 

“I love you so much dad.” I murmur against his chest. “I wouldn’t be who I am today If it weren’t for you. Thank you for being here, for all that you gave me, thank you.” 

He answers the hug in the same way, leaves a kiss on the top of my head and rests there for a minute. “I love you more than you do, little wiver. Who you are now is your own merit. I was just there in case you needed me and I still am.” He grabs me by my shoulders and separates me a little to be able to look at me. “Just remember…” 

“Take care of your heart”  we say at the same time and I chuckle. 

“I know dad, will do” I give him a kiss on the cheek and move on to hug Hanna, hear her words and then come back to Mick and go back to the position we were before as I drink my champagne and we spend hours talking about racing and stories from the past.

At one point I fell asleep in Mick's arms (or half-sleep, half-awake, because I could still hear their voices whispering).

“I think I’ll have to say goodbye because I'm pretty sure that Hanna has already fallen asleep,” Seb said and Mick chuckled.

“Hanna and Y/N both, she’s been out for 30 minutes now.” He answers and Dad laughs. I hear Seb wake his wife up and they both say their goodbyes.

“You need help with her?” Seb asks as he is leaving. 

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll take her to bed.” Mick says. 

“Where would you sleep?” Oh, good question. Seb and his whole family settled at Mick’s room for the night.

 “I’ll sleep on the sofa, I’ve done it before so there’s no problem, It's really comfortable” If I was awake I’ll call him out for his lie. He hates sleeping on the sofa, he says that they are uncomfortable so he’s never done it, not in these ones at least. I hear them say goodbye and I feel him lifting me up and walking upstairs towards my room.

“Hmm” I complain when he places me on my bed and I stop feeling his warmth. 

“Shh.. Shh..” He says, covering me with the blanket. “It’s okay, you can sleep comfortably now. Goodnight Schatz.” He whispers leaving me a kiss on the forehead.

“You ain’t sleeping on the sofa” I murmured without opening my eyes as I grabbed him by his shirt . He makes a noise, surprised that I’m awake. 

“But…“ He starts and I cut him off. 

“But nothing, I won't let you sleep on the sofa. Go change and come back, you are sleeping with me“ I state as firmly as I can with my voice coated with sleep. He agrees and gets out only to come back a few minutes later, I imagine, ready to sleep. I feel the bed sink next to me and I turn around to face him.

He smiles nervously and takes something from the nightstand next to him. I look at him curiously.

“I.. brought you something for your birthday but I thought that it would be a good idea to give it to you now.” He says with his voice also coated in sleep and several tones lower (don't tell anyone I said this, but I adore that voice). He gives me a little box and I look at him surprised. 

“Mickie, you didn't have to, what for?“ I ask as I open the box and see the content under the warm dim light of the lamp on the nightstand. It’s a black braided bracelet with a circle thing in the middle. On it there’s a drawing of a sun. I smile and look at him excited.

“Umm.. so you know that you are the sun, right? or at least that's how I see you and I’m the moon. Like, those are our roles and I thought that it would be cute to have those designs on it.“ He talks nervously and fast. He shows me the identical bracelet on his wrist, just that his’ has a moon design. “You know that the moon without the sun will be nothing, like just a giant thing in the sky with no grace. Also if you touch here“ He reaches to touch my bracelet. I look at his beautiful eyes, still processing his words.

Yeah, move past that as if you didn’t just say the most heartwarming thing ever.

“My bracelet vibrates. Look.“ He shows me and indeed, his bracelet shines and vibrates. “It works the other way around too. Let me.“ He takes the gift in his hands and puts it carefully on my wrist. Then he presses his´ and mine vibrates and shines too. I look at it amazed and I look back at him when he starts to talk again.

 “I thought that it would be a good idea to give it to you now because you started racing so kinda like a congratulatory gift. Like the necklace that you gave me.” He touches the necklace on his neck and I smile remembering the day that I gave it to him.  “Racing is scary, and dangerous, and we know that and we accept it." He says quiet for a second. "But the thought that something can happen to you and I'll have to wait and depend on someone else to tell me that you are okay... it scares me to the bone. So I saw this and it seemed like the perfect gift for the occasion. Now we just have to press it…“ He presses mine and his’ vibrates, he repeats the action on his.  “to know that we are okay. I can even double tap it and it means that I love you.“ He presses his’ two times. He smiles sweetly, looking into my eyes and silence sets between us. “Say something, you are scaring me.” 

I can't do more than smile bright and bring him in, hugging him tightly by the neck as he hugs me from the waist. I was never good at words and his' just left me speechless. I laugh as I leave a kiss on his shoulders, feeling my heart melt from how amazing this guy is.

 “You dork, you just made me cry. I love it, I love it, I love it.” I lay back to look at his eyes and he smiles, delicately wiping my tears away with his thumb. 

“It wasn't my intention. I'm sorry Schatz, I´m just relieved that you like it and don't find it creepy.”

 “No! No, at all. This is perfect. You have to know that I´ll be annoying you all day with this tho.“ He laughs as he goes back to hugging me tightly.  “I’m so lucky to have you Mickie. Thank you for this, thank you for your friendship. You are amazing“ I whisper. "And you are right, this is the perfect gift."

A few minutes later and still into each other's arms, and with his words still warming my heart, the sleep starts to take in.  The last thing I remember is the feeling of his lips kissing my forehead and staying there for a minute. He says something in a whisper that I can’t understand and I make a mental note (that I’ll forget) to ask tomorrow.

Tagglist: @iamasimpingh0e @celinehdr @memeorydotcom @multifamdomfan12 @idkiwantchocolatee @isasv @marelovesf1 @teamspideyman @fictional-l0v3r @capela-miranda

#F1 #aston martin f1 #f1 x reader #max verstappen #sebastian vettel #mick schumacher #sebastian vettel x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 fic #mick schumacher x reader #fanfic #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #f1 imagine

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - I

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He's always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Expect lore speculation, interpretations, etc. Available on AO3 as well. Reblogs and comments are appreciated and encouraged!

You didn’t remember when, precisely, the dreams began; you had gone at least twenty summers without them, consigned yourself to darkness.

When the first one occurred, you merely thought they were a product of too much caffeine and not enough sleep, as though your body was protesting exhaustion to the point of delirium. The dream itself only involved a vague figure and the bizarre sensation that perhaps you weren’t quite alone. Until the figure spoke and both of you realized that the space was shared.

The next time the dream occurred, the stranger gave incredibly precise detail regarding the space itself and that they hadn’t been able to recreate the same situation. Frustration laced their words and their hands and arms moved in passionate, animated gestures.

“You speak as if dreams can be monitored or controlled,” you said.

“Under the right circumstances, they can be. It would appear these are anything but natural circumstances.”

You wanted to ask: but wasn’t fate natural?

But something in their tone stopped you and instead you apologized, to which the individual clicked their tongue.

“Don’t waste your energy on apologizing for something that the gods have decided upon. There is little to be done about it.”

Soulmates weren’t an easy concept for everyone, despite the bliss that many so often touted. The stars held fate within their glowing light; for some, that fate included a connection unbreakable by all but death.

You heard so many people on your travels gush about the romantic notion of knowing their partner as well as they knew themselves, their dreams just as much a part of their relationship’s foundation as their waking one. It closed distances that might otherwise never be crossed. And yet it broke apart marriages, families, revealed so much about a person that they either never considered or were never given a choice in. Receiving a soulmate early on in life was the best-case scenario; receiving and finally connecting with one when you already established a life was far, far worse than not having one at all, in your opinion.

Was that their situation, then?

Over the years, the dreams became more of a game, an experiment. The two of you tested the boundaries of the dream itself and interacted with the vague shape of one another. Eventually, details took shape, and you could make out proper height, clothing styles, hair; their face remained a mystery, although occasionally you caught glimpses of a jaw and mouth, with an all-too-charming smile and lips you considered for a second longer than proper.

Sometimes the two of you ventured just past the line, teasing touches that never seemed to do more than sate curiosity and leave your body longing when you woke.

Typically, after defining the dream space and testing limitations, you spent the rest of the dream attempting civility.

He, for he defined himself as such, was never not civil, you noted. Impatient some nights more than others, certainly, but he did his best to try.

You discovered one night, a decade into your bond as the two of you laid in a field of grass with no warmth from the false sun overhead, that he was a scholar of high standing. Although, he clarified, he was not attached to the Akademiya in Sumeru in the same way others might be. It was a distinction you didn’t think many would be proud of but you nevertheless appreciated the candor.

“Something in common, then,” you supplied. “I was plucked early from Fontaine’s music academy and placed into the hands of a rich family to study music theory and composition further than the school would ever take me.”

He reached for your hand and extended your arm in his direction to get a better look. “Piano? Mmm, not with those callouses…strings, certainly…but…”

You found yourself being pulled closer and you rolled onto your side, facing him. Cold fingers found your other hand and you waited, almost amused, at how dedicated he was to figuring this out himself.

“I could just–”

He shushed you and muttered something under his breath that sounded like he was comparing plucking instruments to those that used bows.

“Cello, or at least a larger instrument in the violin family. One hand has a different callous pattern than the other.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. Most guessed a violin or erhu. “Impressive.”

“Hardly. Between the pattern difference and the mention of Fontaine, it’s obvious that the instrument is likely native to the nation but that the strings are a bit thicker than a violin’s. You have a writer’s bump on your third finger; you compose in addition to playing.”

You took your hands back and looked down at them, cradling your dominant hand and running your finger over that very spot, suddenly conscious of it.

“Fontaine survives off of private patronage for the arts and the sciences; it’s seen as an investment as valuable as business itself,” you said. “Are there reasons for not working within the Akademiya, or other situations when a private sponsorship or patronage would be more useful?”

You brought your gaze back up to look at him, releasing your hand to brush it across the tips of the grass between you both, soft with just a hint of dampness, morning dew that had yet to disappear. Your companion gave a thoughtful hum, considering your words.

“They’re so…limiting,” he elaborated, gesturing with a hand vaguely before blocking the sun and turning his head towards you. “Obtaining a degree nowadays may as well be one’s only life goal; some spend decades traveling with their studies and graduate well into their thirties, if they graduate at all. Final theses are rejected on a regular basis, keeping students back longer than necessary. And nevermind the fact that mechanical lifeforms cannot be researched without risk of expulsion. I never did understand that one…”

It was the most you’d ever heard him speak of himself in a long time. Some days he was content to ramble on whatever caught his fancy for most of your time together and you were happy to listen, even if you didn’t understand. Other times, he was…almost spacey, as though he’d walked into a room and couldn’t remember why he stepped inside.

For the first time in years, you finally caught a glimpse of his eyes.

You’d seen garnets on the hands of your patrons in Fontaine but they paled in comparison to the striking depth of his gaze.

“For those who are not fond of confinement, private patronage of research is far more beneficial,” he continued, his tone far less impassioned, a wall rising between you instantly. “Both for the researcher and the nation, if their work is capable of scaling properly.”

His visage became cloudy again, leaving you with only the lower half of his face and the vague hint at pale turquoise hair.

When you woke, your head felt heavy and your eyes burned, as if you spent the night composing in the dark. The sunlight was warm, throwing itself across the ceiling of your rented room and beckoning you outside. Sumeru was never without sunlight, it seemed, just as the people in Sumeru City were never without their Akasha. Yours was pushed into your hands upon arrival in Sumeru City, laid upon the nightstand, turned off; it rested next to your Geo Vision, bright and vibrant.

You could still feel hands that weren’t yours, moving your fingers and running across your skin.

How could you be so tired and yet so awake?

As you dressed, you realized that despite the warm color of your soulmate’s eyes, they were so cold, colder perhaps than his touch. Was it just the topic of conversation? Your presence, nay, invasion perhaps?

And yet…almost familiar, in the same way that a stranger’s shape might be from a distance.

A beat on the door of your room startled you out of your thoughts. Your orchestra’s tour manager, the first to rise and the last to sleep, making their rounds to get everyone downstairs to eat. The very air in your room seemed to have the same idea, the scent of rich coffee wafting from the inn’s kitchen.

You tried to shake off the dream as you gathered your things and made your way downstairs with the rest of your colleagues. There were too many details to plan for later that evening for your focus to be anywhere else but grounded in reality.

After all, it wasn’t every night that your orchestra, Fontaine’s best, played for the Akademiya Sages.

#il dottore #dottore #dottore x reader #dottore/reader #il dottore x reader #il dottore/reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact fanfiction #reader will have a title again probably

[toringo]

i would love to hear about your thoughts on what henry thought of william, or how his opinions changed throughout the years. did he despise him by the end of it all? or were there still some bittersweet thoughts lingering there?

Depending on the version, the answer changes. Let's start with the game version because there is the least to say about him.

Despite me being an intense Helliam/Willry shipper, we know way too little about them to say just how friendly they were. In the game lore alone, I like to think they started as business rivals and Henry admired William and his work and must have liked him enough to perform with him on stage as partners. Maybe he was a bit put off by William's cold and deflective nature, but he… enjoyed him, enjoyed the time they spent together and the things they created. After he finds out that it was William who hurt his daughter for whatever petty reason, he would obviously hate him and I don't think that the hatred goes down with time. I just think that with time he gets sadder about this. I think that he wants William to die and suffer but he holds just a bit of guilt-inducing sympathy for him, nostalgia, the slightest note of longing.

Book Henry and William? Oh, they go WAY BACK. Become business partners early on, maybe even meet in college. Henry adored William when they were younger, he was Henry's best and only friend. Later, when they open Fredbear's it only becomes more intense. This version really wakes my Willry sensors. I think that book Henry loves his wife, loves his son but, shamefully, he puts William above them. Charlie above William. William - he associates with his animatronics, and he loves them (hates when they're broken, below his standards, and needs to fix them immediately). He loves William. He might not show it properly, but he does. William is very distant and so is Henry and he thinks that they're comfortable like that, being close from afar. It's comforting, they're on the same page. Until they aren't. He knows it was William when Charlie is taken, but he keeps quiet and isolates himself from everyone else, even his close family. Makes himself think it's possible to fool death. William stays at his side, and it hurts the most. I don't think he ever grows to hate William in this one, he wants him dead but only when he is about to die. He is desperate lonely and confused. He never gets to understand why William's done what he's done, he never gets a chance. I guess he is bitter, who wouldn't be, but he loves his 'faithful partner'. He puts the bare minimum into thwarting his evil plans which he himself doesn't understand and leaves, hoping to see him on the other side.

MY HENRY THOUGH. UMM. They meet in college and are polar opposites. Hate each other's guts at first but then slowly grow attached. It's a quick rival to friends. But at the friend stage… William confuses him, more than anything. Unbearably pessimistic and such a damn perfectionist, a bit too similar to Henry on that. It takes him some time to understand he's got a crush, he isn't even the first one to confess, even though he wants to. He and Will are very lovey-dovey in their own, weird, introverted nerd way. Attached at the hip. Until William dumps him for one of his friends of course, and gets married and has a kid that could not possibly be made after they broke up. So. He is heartbroken, resents William more than a little, and is desperate enough to feel pathetic at each turn. He tries to move on and gets a family, but it doesn't make his feelings go away, it only makes them worse. They become friends again later, partners, and it seems like that would be it, his heart still aches but he could get used to this. If not for the fact that William is acting as if the feeling is mutual, giving in at times only to give him the cold shoulder the very next second. He is annoyed with him and loves him so much, still. Later he goes from pity for him after 83' to a desperate need for closeness after Charlie and then blazing hatred when he finally finds out. And beyond all of that, there is this neverending pining and hurt. He sometimes is tempted to let go of the revenge, to crawl back to William and be with him. He never does, he ultimately also puts Charlie above.

#sorry if its messy doing homework and im tired #henry emily #willam afton #willry #helliam #fnaf #silver eyes #ask me anything #ask

[cable-knit-sweater]

Checkmate, I couldn’t lose

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Rating: T

Word count: 1.1k

Tags: Modern AU, rich Steve Rogers, con man Bucky Barnes, idiots in love

Summary: Bucky is a con man, ready to steal all of Steve’s money so he’ll be set for life. Problem is…Steve’s onto him from the start, but plays along anyway.

Title from Mastermind by Taylor Swift

So I told you none of it was accidental And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk On your face, you knew the entire time You knew that I'm a mastermind And now you're mine Yeah, all you did was smile 'Cause I'm a mastermind

Written for @allcapsbingo card: AC1005 | Adoptable: Inheritance

Bucky does what he has to, to get by. He’d always been good at bullshitting his way out of things, but when he ended up on the streets as a teenager, he needed to step it up to survive. It started out with petty theft, distracting people so he could sneak a wallet or jewelry away from them to give him some cash to eat and to sleep somewhere. But he learned quickly, had some people teach him more skills, and now, in his mid twenties, he only did the petty stuff to get a little thrill. 

He’d pretended to be so many different people, pretended to have so many different jobs. He’d played some long cons and cashed in. But he was getting to a point where he wanted it to stop. His current funds would last him a couple of years, maybe. Bucky needed one big job to set him up for life. 

Finding the right mark took some time, but he’d finally found him. Steve Rogers was a well-known millionaire, coming from a prominent family. His parents had passed and had left him the bulk of his money in his inheritance, but he didn’t seem too attached to it, ending up in the society pages often enough wearing expensive clothes and accessories, driving expensive cars, stories of women who’d dated him that recounted extravagant dates and gifts. On top of that, he donated large amounts of money to charity each year. 

So, he was someone that spent his money easily, and loved a good sob story. He was perfect. It didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous too. Bucky knew just how to part him from a large chunk of that  inheritance. And it wouldn’t take much more than batting his eyelashes and crying a little on cue. This was gonna be it. He was going to be set for life once he was done, he was sure of that. 

He hadn’t been ready for Steve. He’d played it so cool, so perfectly, when they met and he could see the instant attraction in Steve’s eyes. It had seemed so simple then.

But nothing about Steve was simple. Bucky had to tell himself repeatedly why he was doing this, to not lose himself in the game and forget that this wasn’t real.

Steve made it so hard to remember that. He was kind, smart, wonderful. Bucky found himself imagining what it could be like, to actually be on Steve’s arm for real. But that was never going to happen. This Bucky, the Bucky Steve spent so much time on, listened to, laughed with, loved on - it was a character, not who he really was, even if he could feel himself slip sometimes.

Even if Steve could actually like him for who he was, that never was going to happen. Not if he knew why Bucky was here in the first place. He was so stupid. The first thing he’d learned was to not feel sorry for the mark, let alone feel this much for one.

The only thing he could hope for now, was that he got some results soon, so he could leave. So he could leave before it became impossible to do that without breaking his own heart.

Some nights, he felt like it was already too late for that.

Bucky was different. It had taken Steve a moment to realize that, too distracted by a lean body and brilliant grey-blue eyes. Meeting him at the benefit for one of his many charities had felt like faith. Steve was done with dating around and ready to settle down, and at first Bucky seemed like he was interested in Steve for Steve, not his bank account. 

He knew how people saw him. As a rich, spoiled playboy. Pretty, but not the sharpest tool in the shed. He was fine with that, mostly, although it was always disappointing when people didn’t see through that or paid too little attention to him to get that far, too focused on what he could do for them rather than who he was.  

Bucky was different. He was focused on Steve.

There was only one problem. He was too focused on Steve. He knew too much about Steve, played too much into his weaknesses. He was too perfect. Once he’d noticed, he started paying attention to everything Bucky did. It didn’t take long to pick up on the fact that it was all an act. 

He was sure Bucky hadn’t noticed, but Steve saw him slip up a couple of times, things he said or did just not matching up with the picture he was trying to create. It had made Steve smile a little. Bucky was smart, good at what he did. Steve was just too used to people trying to get something out of him, that he could see right through it. But he liked Bucky, so he let him play his game, just to see what would happen.

There wasn’t much he had to lose here. If Bucky managed to con him out of his money, that was fine. He cared little for it, he’d find a way to live the rest of his life without it. If Bucky didn’t manage to win this little game, Steve at least could have some fun while spending time with him, before Bucky probably would give up and disappear as quickly as he’d turned up. 

He was sweet, funny, kind. Steve was more than willing to lose all of his money just for more time with that Bucky. He just hoped that Bucky felt the same. Steve was probably setting himself up for heartbreak. But he was having fun, playing along, and enjoyed every minute with Bucky when he was being himself. 

Steve tried to show Bucky what it could be like without the con, to show him that there could be something there between them. That it could be real, if he wanted to, if he wanted to give up on playing this little game. It was hard to find the balance between showing him that, and making Bucky too suspicious. If that happened before Bucky was ready, if Bucky figured out that Steve knew what he was doing, he’d probably run for the hills.

Maybe Bucky would never be ready, but a Steve had hope. Maybe Bucky would break his heart, maybe he’d con Steve out of everything. But Bucky was worth it, he thought. Two could play this game, and Steve wasn’t planning on losing.

#maya tries to write #allcapsbingo2023 #stucky fic #stucky au #stucky #steve x bucky #inspired by my fav murder baby & fav con man baby 💕💕💕 #I might try to write the fic one day lol

[dulcewrites]

I know you are not taking requests right now. But when you do, Is it possible that you could, if you are comfortable, to write Austin!Elvis proposing or eloping with black!reader? ❤️

You’re All I Need to Get By

Pairing: austin!elvis x black!reader (wc: 946)

Requested: yes (thank you)

Warnings: age gap, allusions to attachment issues and trauma from his mom’s passing. Honestly this is mostly very fluffy and sweet

A/N: This gonna take place around 1970/1971. Elvis was touring, but y’all are in Memphis during this time. He’s 35/36 while reader is 28. This song came on when I was writing it so I decided to name it after that (I don’t know if this is an unpopular opinion but I think I prefer the Aretha version to the tammi and Marvin one) Also when is tumblr gonna step their pussy game up and do Apple Music instead of Spotify 🤔

Elvis feels sick to his stomach. The type of nauseating gnawing he normally only experiences before performances… and sometimes while he watches a big Steelers game.

The party hasn’t even started yet, and he already doesn’t know what to do with himself. Maybe tonight isn’t the night. Maybe he should hold off, but this ring has been burning a hole in his pockets for months. He can’t chicken out now.

You’re zipping around the room like you always do when you get ready; not able to stay in one place. From the closet to your vanity, to the bathroom because “baby, the lighting is different”. Makeup done but hot rollers in your hair; pink silk robe and fuzzy slippers on.

“Ok, the red or the black,” you hold up two dresses and all Elvis can do is blink at them.

You sigh, picking up on his anxious energy, and stand in front of him between his legs.

“I know what this is about.”

“What,” he says it way too loud, looking up a little alarmed. Oh god, you probably found the ring. He should’ve listened to Jerry and gave it to someone to hold. He’s always been bad at keeping secrets.

“Honey, if the colonel calls you again while you’re taking time to yourself, just hand me the phone,” you push his hair from his forehead. “I’ll sure as hell set him straight.”

He looks up at you heart thumping. How the hell did he get this lucky? He can’t mess tonight up. It’s been four years since you’ve starting dating, and now his life has been split up into two times: before meeting you, and after meeting you.

The days in Hollywood started to blend together before meeting you. He remembers feeling like he got punched in the gut the moment he first saw you. It doesn’t hit him how unhappy he had been until he felt the happiness that comes with being with you. It didn’t take him long to realize he’s willing to go the ends of the earth to keep that happiness.

He remembers how much it took to get you to want to leave your home in California. For him, for this life; he knows it’s not easy.

Despite where and how he was raised, the idea of marriage scares him a little. A family that depends on him scares him. He knows he wants that with you. The forever and always. He thrives off having people he loves around.

But with commitment comes expectations, with expectations comes hard work, and hard work means people getting tired and leaving.

He couldn’t handled another person he loves this much leaving him.

Having this party to celebrate the tour wrapping seemed like a good excuse to have everyone in one place for the proposal. Everyone seems to know but you, which is probably a first for you Elvis thinks. You’re inquisitive and sharp, one of the many things he loves about you.

“I like the black,” you go back to looking in the full-length mirror at the dresses.

The anxious feelings only grow as he watches you continue to get ready. God help him.

“Man, I think it’s time,” Jerry whispers and Elvis swallows hard.

The party has been in full swing for a couple hours now. You two worked the room together before parting ways. Elvis spent a lot of the party working over what he wanted to say in head. Maybe he should’ve written something down.

He looks over at you giggling on the couch with some of the other ladies. Brown skin glittering and smile is bright. He loves you so much it kind of hurts.

“I think the man of the hour has something to say,” Jerry calls out, motioning for the music to get turned down.

Fuck.

A couple people give him knowing and encouraging looks. You flash him a curious smile, tilting your head to the side. In group situations like this, he normally ran what he wanted to say by you. Elvis clears his throat coming to center of the living room.

“I’m realizing why went into music and not speech givin’,” the room laughs at his joke.

He sticks one hand in his pocket fiddling with the ring box out of nervousness.

“First, I should thank everyone who went into helping me with the tour,” Elvis starts. “It was long and exhausting, but we did it.”

His eyes scan the room, giving grateful smiles to everyone. He stops when they get on you.

“And of course, I want to thank my baby,” he says shyly. A round of awes come from the people in the crowd. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you.”

You mouth ‘I love you’ to him. Elvis takes steps towards the couch before letting out a shaky breath. He gets down on one knee and your eyes widen. He pulls the ring box out.

“Yes! Holy shit yes!”

Your immediate reaction garners a cacophony of laughs from room, and Elvis beams.

“I haven’t asked yet,” he laughs.

“Right sorry, keep going,” your smile is so wide, and you’ve slid forward on the couch.

“Honey, will you marry me,” Elvis opens the ring box to reveal a sparking oval cut diamond surrounded by two smaller yellow diamonds. Holy shit was right you think.

“Yes,” you exclaim, and he puts the ring on your finger.

Your friends and family let out cheers and whistles when you two share a long kiss. He pulls you two up into a hug.

“I love Mrs. Presley,” he whispers in your ear.

“I love you more Mr. Presley.”

#austin!elvis x black!reader #black!reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #my writing #black!oc #elvis x reader #requests #austin!elvis #elvis imagine #austin butler imagine #elvis presley x reader

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Which couple marry first hinny or romoine in your opinion? Please do share.

Can I just say that I love that "please do share"? It makes me feel important.

OK, now, about the ask...

Short answer: Harry and Ginny

There are several circumstantial reasons but there's one in particular that I believe to be the essential point and weirdly enough I've never seen anyone bring it up. So, without further ado, let's start with the long answer:

The circumstantial reasons are these (to understand some of the following points it's necessary to remember that we are working on a pretty small window of years. James Sirius was born in 2004 and the first year after the war Ginny and Hermione were at Hogwarts):

Harry and Ginny have basically a whole year over Ron and Hermione. While they were technically broken up for several months, they were emotionally together. When they got back together, the romantic dynamic was not something new that they explored for the first time. And even the first time around they fell into it extremely easily. We also see that after nearly a year apart, they are still perfectly in tune with Harry who needs one single look to make Ginny calm down. Ron and Hermione get together in an extremely complicated time and, while having feelings for each other for years, they are also both people with a tendency to overthink, so there might be some awkwardness at the start (obviously it would be much easier to make a correct assumption on this if we ever saw how they interact alone).

Ginny and Hermione go back to Hogwarts. While for sure not easy for Harry and Ginny, we already know that they dealt with a year apart in the worst possible conditions, they also display a secure attachment style. Ron and Hermione are far from used to being apart, their romantic relationship is newer, and they do not display a secure attachment style (even if I like to believe that they eventually gained some of that maturity), so it's pretty easy to imagine how that year of long-distance relationship was far more difficult to manage for them.

Marriage is not something far away from Harry's mind. In DH we have him imagining Ginny in a wedding dress, addressing her as his family, then there's the whole death sequence with the comparison between the family he'll have in death and the one he can have living. Ginny's declarations between the end of HBP and the start of DH all point to an everlasting love that she is comfortable labeling as such out loud. All of this while Ron and Hermione are still playing the "you love me, you love me not" game.

Harry and Ginny had Teddy to set them already in a domestic mood. If a Teddy of age spends four dinners a week with the Potters, imagine how much time he spent with them as a child. Not that children and marriage need to be necessarily connected but they are undeniably on the same line of thinking, especially for two people who want both marriage and babies and have a romantic streak. Ginny is far more explicitly romantic than Harry, but I think we can all agree that Harry "her blush is like the setting sun" Potter is a closeted romantic.

Hermione is not exactly someone that I would call family-oriented seeing how little time she spends with her parents. She obviously is enough to get married and have children but what we know about her character suggests that they wouldn't be a short-term priority for her.

In the most likely correct assumption that Hermione's parents weren't too happy about being shipped off to Australia without their consent and that Hermione cared about healing her relationship with them, it would be reasonable for Hermione to find it necessary to keep the family dynamic stable for some years. Especially considering that, despite it all, she still goes back for her last year at Hogwarts separating herself from them once again.

Harry and Ginny started having children sooner. Obviously, it's pure statistic here.

I think that Ron and Hermione dancing around each other for a million years proves quite clearly that Harry and Ginny are far more impulsive people.

Also: I've seen some people say that Ginny would want to wait a while to get married to affirm her independence or something like that but when exactly did Ginny Weasley, who took the surname Potter and decided for a career change to have more time with her children, ever gave you the impression that she would take such decisions on how others might or might not perceive her? Or that Harry's fame is something she struggles with and wants to avoid like the plague? Doesn't it sound a lot more like Ginny saying "I'm gonna destroy all your arses on the Quidditch pitch and I'm going to do it with whatever surname I prefer"? Plus, I might add that it didn't take much time for Ginny to become famous in her own right. According to Rowling, Ginny was a celebrated Quidditch player. Considering that she played for only four/five years but also simply how the careers of great athletes work, if she weren't a first-string player when she entered the team (but she most likely was) then she became one during her first year playing.

Now these were all points that suggest that Harry and Ginny would marry sooner but there is one very specific reason that I think gives us pretty much certainty on the answer:

Marriage is not just about how much you love each other. There's a very strong economic component to it.

Harry and Ginny are, to put it very plainly, rich. Harry has both the Potter and Black fortunes and, even if I highly doubt they lived there after they got married, he has already a house at Grimmauld Place. Ginny is a celebrated professional Quidditch player who plays in an elitist team. In short, she instantly made a lot of money. Add to this that between being a great player, and conventionally good-looking, she probably sold an insane amount of merch. Yeah, Ginny was loaded even without Harry's money.

Ron and Hermione have normal jobs. Hermione having two parents that are dentists was definitely from a family who was comfortable money-wise but there's no indication of her being a trust-found baby. Ron was an Auror for two years (it's not clear if it's meant as the three years of training plus two years or just two years) and then he went to work with George. Now, if it was only two years, training included: while we know that the twins could afford things they would've never dreamed to afford before, it's always in comparison to what the Weasleys could afford. At the end of the day, they are still two young men who have to provide only for themselves and live in the little apartment above their shop. This is to say that, while the business is successful, they are not rich (the shop was also probably closed for a while). Now, for the life of me, I can't imagine Ron Weasley, who throughout the series is so sensitive towards money, being ok with marriage without being 100% sure of having the economic safety to afford a house and to provide an economically comfortable life for eventual children. Also, even with less money apprehension, Hermione probably had an entire plan with goals to reach before taking every important life step. If there's something that Ron, the chess master, and Hermione, the organization obsessed, have in common is that they think things through a lot, which is what brings them to occasionally overthink.

This said, I still think that Ron and Hermione married before James Sirius was born, I don't think they married a lot of years after Harry and Ginny. Rose is after all just two years younger than James. Even if the idea of Ron and Hermione dealing with an unplanned out-of-wedlock baby is hilarious.

#hinny #romione #ginny x harry #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry and ginny #hermione granger #ron weasley #ron x hermione #thegirlwhowrites642HPmeta

[bookworm-center]

Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender: Chapter III- Our Shared Past

Previous part below:

Dirtyhands and the Bloodbender

Y/n L/n: Our Shared Past

Kaz is being annoying once again, forbidding me from joining him and Jesper to deliver the documents to Rollins. I wandered around the Barrel for a little while, growing bored rather quickly. I went back to the Club faster than I wanted but there was nothing to do while out.

The sound of my glass clinking down on the bar echoes in the near quiet of the Club. The pigeons have dwindled to five patrons. Being alone makes me think of Jesper and Kaz. I hoped they were alright. For some reason, I remembered the night we'd met, the night Kaz recruited me to the Dregs nearly three years ago.

~*~*~*~*~

It had been a particularly rough day. I had been paid to assassinate a mercher, which ended unsuccessfully. My client was furious and had shot at me in the shoulder. I just needed to feel the burn of alcohol down my throat so I made my way to the nearest Club.

Kaz had found me then, chugging shots of whiskey and chatting with the bartender. I recognized him almost immediately. After all, what crook or thief in Ketterdam hadn't heard of Dirtyhands? Everyone knew of Kaz Brekker, the infamous Bastard of the Barrel. Jesper was with him, pearly guns at the holsters, tall lanky frame hoovering behind Kaz.

"Y/n L/n." I looked up when Kaz said my name. It wasn't something I'd given out to people. "Also known as the Bloodbender."

"What business?"

"I want to recruit you to the Dregs." Kaz said.

I couldn't help but laugh. "The Dregs? I don't belong to any gang. Convince me why I should join you."

"Why shouldn't you?" Jesper asked.

"Look, if I joined you, I'd be the talk of the town."

"Disgraced and disowned?" Jesper added. I nodded. He didn't need to know I'd already been disowned by my family and disgraced by the Second Army.

"Is this really how you want to spend your days?" Kaz made a pointed look down to the glass of whiskey I was nursing in my hands. "Whiskey and misery? Always cheated out of your money?"

"Well what can you offer me in return for my service?"

"Kruge. Freedom to go where you please. Revenge. I'd promise you safety but that would be a kind lie." Kaz said, tapping his finger on the crow head of his cane.

I took a minute to decide, although I'd made up my mind when Kaz had first come up to me. Kaz Brekker had only ever wanted the best of the best, everyone knew that. So of course I'd join him. Especially if I meant I could get revenge on Pekka Rollins and perhaps the Second Army as well.

~*~*~*~*~

Three years later, I've still not quite got my revenge, but there are now many things that keep me with the Dregs and the Crows. The quiet moments I shared with Inej as we dashed across the rooftops. The times I had to pull Jesper away from the tables and we played card games alone in my room. Eating waffles and sharing secrets with Nina, telling tales about our time in Ravka. Exploding anything and everything when I was bored with Wylan. And most of all, Kaz.

Kaz was my closest friend, though neither of us would admit it. We spent so much time simply sitting in Kaz's office, me reading some random book and Kaz studying maps and plans for new jobs. We bickered and teased each other, but deep down I knew that I cared for him and would burn the world down if he was killed. He wasn't the same, of course, Dirtyhands never gets too attached to people, at the cost of hurting his heart- if he had one. Still, he kept me here with his Crows, my allegiance to him more than Per Haskell.

I knew that I belonged here in Ketterdam more than Ravka. Ravka was the country of Saints, Kerch the land of sinners. Ketterdam was home to the worst of the worst, the broken, bruised, and battered calling the city their own. Kaz was like me in the sense that we both belong here. We are both bastards in different senses, me by my lineage, Kaz by his actions. We are king and queen in a way, rulers of the world that is so devastatingly cruel, you have to become a monster to survive.

#grishaverse #bookworm center #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #my work #fanfic #dirtyhands and the bloodbender

[twigg96]

Steve Harrington HCs

With some Steddie HCs as well :3

Steve is the best big brother ever but he pulls the shittiest pranks on the kids. He is always 3 trends behind in the prank world so they always know what he’s about to do. Even El knows the Whoopie Cushion is hiding under the pillow for her to sit on most times. Dustin thinks it’s because Steve would never intentionally hurt them. Max thinks it’s because he’s too slow to realize times have changed. Robin is the only one that knows it’s because Steve gets all his “great ideas” from renting the old movies from the video store.

Steve would 100% become Tik Tok famous at any age. He’d master the all of the dances and become the biggest thirst trap on the platform. Only problem was. He was completely oblivious to it. He just liked to dance and his followers seemed to like it when he put in the extra effort to move his body a little more or take his shirt off. So he was more than happy to do as his new friends asked. Nancy, Jonathan, Robin and Hell even Argyle had warned him not to get to attached with the people sending him nice comments for what they wanted. But Steve insisted that his friends on the app liked him for who he really was. It helped a lot that Eddie was more than supportive of him and even appeared in a few of his Tik Toks. The lead singer danced along side his boyfriend (more so staring at the man than dancing but who was going to ever judge him).

One day during a discussion about what they wanted to grow up to be as children and how stupid their child selfs were, Robin had loudly proclaimed that she had wanted to become a “crayon tester”. Something her parents came up with to keep her busy on long car rides and in important public places to keep her happy and quiet as she was always talking to strangers about all their family business. Everyone thought it fit her quite well and if there was a real possibility of a job opening for a crayon tester at the Crayon factory she’d be a shoe in. Eddie laughed about becoming a veterinarian. Telling a long exaggerated story about how many animals he saved over the many years he spent living at his Uncle’s only to have Steve hold up two fingers knowing quite well from a proud Wayne himself that Eddie had saved a stray baby kitten and a nest of hatchlings once. However when everyone turned to Steve he stayed quiet. They poked and tried to pry it loose, even Nancy didn’t know what his child self wanted to be. “A lawyer like your parents?” Made the boy turn his nose up at Johnathan and scrunch his face in disgust. “And you’re supposed to be a journalist Byers?” He asked laughing to try and raise his own mood. But no matter how much he tried to change the subject his friends wouldn’t let up. So he relented. “An astronaut…” he muttered blushing and looking away in shame. “I wanted to be an astronaut. Mostly to get my parents to pay attention to me… because it seemed like when I watched the astronauts on TV with the Nanny’s… they all had a huge crowd of people cheering for them. Their whole family was so happy and I wanted that too. When I told my parents they just laughed and told me I needed to be smart to do that. I tried to get by on my grades but I just couldn’t get past the things my parents said… and my math wasn’t worth a damn so I’m freshman year I game up on that dream and started chasing sports. Figured if I couldn’t get into college for my brain I might for athletics and then… maybe mom and dad would be proud… ya know eventually.” Everyone stared at Steve their expressions ranging from heartbreak to rage at his neglectful parents. Steve wanted to take everything he said back but was swallowed in a huge bear hug instead.

During the first summer Steve and Eddie spent together, they worked in the same job. Well… they worked at the same place. They both worked at the small locally owned amusement park that opened a few years before just outside of Hawkins. Eddie and Corroded Coffin got their first real “long term gig” that promised to pay a low but even rate every Monday through Friday and Sunday with Saturdays off to do whatever or preform elsewhere for extra cash. A good amount of musically inclined people would come to the park after dark to listen to the performances so the offers to perform in bars, restaurants, clubs, and even as an opening act for one of Indiana’s better known Indie bands. Steve worked as a game attendant in a booth near the stage. His booth contained three separate games he had to man. The first was a water gun game where his “guests” had to aim jets of water at a clowns mouth and see who could get their buzzer to ring first. He found the water pressures on the first and third chairs were the highest and changed between the two to make it seem like it was random. He kept track of which chair won last to make sure the kids or people who looked like they needed cheering up would be sure to win. The second game was ring toss. That one was always rigged but had the best prizes in the whole park so he got a lot of traffic on that game. He noticed there were only around 17 bottles the rings would fit over at all ranging from small prize to large. Only one bottle would allow for a large prize however. He tried to discourage people from playing it when they had young kids who desperately wanted a prize and instead tried to encourage the other water game where prizes were almost guaranteed. The last game was a basket game. Shoot an easy one shot from like 6 feet away 3 times get a large prize. Easy right? Wrong. The hoops were rigged to have screws poking out the back to keep people from making baskets. He was instructed to tighten or loosen the screws so much based on the parks expected crowd capacity before he opened the game. He really hated cheating everyone so he was sure to tighten the screws just enough to allow for a few more baskets but keep his bosses from getting suspicious. Busy days like holidays it could get quite crowded and hectic. But on slow easy going days when Eddie and his crew showed up early to set up, Eddie would take a long walk with Steve on his lunch break to let him relax and let him know how loved he was and that all this was going to be worth it.

#stranger things #stranger things headcanons #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin stranger things #johnathan byers #nancy stranger things #argyle stranger things #first stranger things HC

[riddlemethisjeremy]

All of these stories take place on Effpedelia, a continent connected to earth through a wormhole that coalesced from the weight of the human imagination. Upon Effedelia, you can find every story humanity has ever told

A Game Of Kings: This story takes place in the "Feywildes", along the Elvish side of the continent. Jaylinn, a young Aelvish noble who grew up on the streets of Lux Portem, has to infiltrate the Aelvish court and stop the devastating war between the Aelvish and their Freiralf brethren. Now is the time to strike, as the crown of the kingdom has recently changed hands, and to one that some might still call a child at that! The mission is simple and straightforward enough, but Jaylinn makes one fatal mistake: They get attached.

This Is Home: Finnick Moreno has lived with his best friend, Tristin Quemadura, since he was Chosen by Tristin's step parent, Kip, and by extension, his clan. The two haven't spent a moment apart. So when Tristin gets accepted into the Borellian School of Mystical Arts, Finnick fights his way in as a part of the "Consortio Ferrum", Brotherhood of Steel. College takes quite a different turn when your students have the power to end the world.

The Blinding Lights: Fenelle is a Shifter. She's the first one in her family for generations, and the control she has over her abilities are insane, so much so that she manages to keep them a secret, allowing her to live a dangerous double life. Until one day, her dream comes to fruition, and she's picked up by a licensed producer to perform and produce her own music. How will she continue to juggle the different people she is trying to be?

Caught In The Jaws Of The Wolf: When the Gods of All Things suddenly cease the flow of power between the True Fae of Effpedelia and themselves, they dont even think to take responsibility for the actions the gods are punishing, instead blaming the Wilde Fae for their "savage and unnatural ways". In response to this perceived threat, the True Fae begin an all out massacre, desecrating the Wilde Fae population. Simon is a survivor of this genocide, left behind to raise his two younger siblings, and Myles was his best friend. Too bad, you can't really trust a friend who watched his people burn down your home.

Nyxle Boys: Daerick is meant to save the world. He was born to end the War of Elfkind, and bring peace to the Feywildes once and forever (or for a while anyways). The prophecy speaks it. And yet? Here he is getting high in the woods with his bestie Kore. He wished all he cared about was whether he'd still be too green to attend his lecture in the morning, but it was going to take a little more than that for him to avoid his destiny

Oops, I Did It Again: Warren is a human druid with a special affinity for fauna - so much so that he can't help but turn into a salamander sometimes - which makes his library meet-cute with heartthrob Robert all the more awkward. As circumstances shake Robert from his toxically unstable home and into the path of Warren the Wanderer, the pair struggle to find a place where they belong. On the way, they may even find who they really are.

I'mAre We The Hunted?: Josh, Hunter and Lukas were all raised by True Fae as hunters. They have learned to distinguish the Wilde Fae in their beast forms from the creatures they have mimicked, and to slaughter them without mercy. The Wilde Fae are savage and unnatural, after all. Except Lukas starts to question this. How different are they to the Wilde Fae? They have the same abilities, the same pointed ears and keen canine teeth. When he discovers the truth - that he and his unit are being used as a weapons against his own kind - Lukas is astonished. But what can he do; he is, after all, their weapon.

#Original Stories #original characters #Grouping the character tags with their titles for clarity #A Game Of Kings #Aldon #Dior #Wolfgang #Aeverdeen Hawkes #Jaylinn Hawkes #Zini #Rhysand Krowe #Beckett #James #This Is Home #Finnick Moreno #Tristin Quemadura #Millicent #Sophie #Kip #Bailey #Oliver Sharpe #Nathan Knowels #Jessica #The Blinding Lights #Fenelle #Demitri #Jason #Haven't really gone into this one too much tbh #Caught In The Jaws Of The Wolf #Simon

[chasingfictions]

tell us about ur willam pratt (human spike) thoughts all of them rn

OH HI BESTIE OKAY . let's go let's do this hiiiii <3

first of all. william pratt is specifically designed to make me insane bc i was very much a Bow Girl Victoriana Tween <333 girls who mained samantha among the american girl dolls rise up, our time is now <3

SECOND OF ALL . okay william as a total mama's boy is a given and i think probably one of the reasons he was really close with his mom is that either he didn't have a governess, as would have been typical for children of his station, or his mother just took on a lot more of the childrearing than would have been typical, so he just spent more time with her than with the governess. also part of that is the only child thing !! i really subscribe to the fanon that he did have a bunch of other siblings it's just that none of them survived to adulthood or even that far out of infancy tbh . and he never really missed that sense of camaraderie because he had his mother, who was his best friend . william and anne serving gilmoregirlsism . im not afraid to speak on it!!! anne bringing william with her to her social calls and her friends are like . bruh shouldn't he be at home with the governess :) why are you bringing your child places :) and she says No He Likes To Sit With the Ladies but she says it with this intonation:

that said i think if william DID have a governess he adored her and hid behind her skirts and really wanted her to like him BUT the governess was like, his mother is far too permissive with him, i have to enforce some sort of discipline on this child or he will become a menace. so she's very strict on him. he simultaneously has a massive childhood crush on her the way kids get on their babysitters and wants her to approve of him and but ALSO when she would be upset with him i think he would run to get mummy and be a little crybaby snitch about it . i know that in my gut .

i think william had a pretty no good very bad time at school . like this boy did not have friends and didnt interact much with other children. like when the family was in london for the summers and christmas he was just very close knit with them and didnt have other children to play with. and when they were at their countryside estate i think he played a little bit with the estate staff's children but in kind of like a , our mom said we have to play with this weirdo boy because his mom gives us the money we need to be alive :) and then he goes off to school for the first time and he is suddenly around Boys and spoiler alert The Boys Do Not Like Him . he is sensitive and weepy and gets in trouble and the teachers think he needs to toughen up and the other boys think he's lame because he can't play any games. the other boys are like have you SEEN crybaby william he cant even PLAY stick and hoop. Loser .

ALSO i think it's relevant that in his "lessons" trauma monologue he says I Dropped My Board In The River And The Chalk All Ran. Sure to Be Caned. Should Have Seen That Coming. like he did NOT have a good time at school he did not he did NOT

i think he spends most of his time at school like, alone reading books and wandering the grounds looking for dandelions and clovers and probably because he Is Him gets really attached to like, the school nurse and whenever he gets injured trying to play cricket (which is a Lot. it happens A Lot. people think he's getting injured on purpose ? so he doesnt have to play anymore? but actually it's sadder and the truth is he Really is Trying. he's just So Bad) -- anyway whenever he gets injured he just goes and sits with the nurse and she tells him old stories and folktales and servants' gossip and he's like :))) this is the life :))))))

i think EVENTUALLY though he sort of . somewhat figures out how to function socially . like he makes some, if not friends, then at least Acquaintances . like i think it takes him his whole time at school to figure out how to do that but by the time he like . leaves eton and goes off to oxford or cambridge or wherever he's not actively getting bullied while he's in the room. people still talk shit about him but they're like, i don't know this isn't even fun anymore because he can't even tell . he studies classics and keeps trying to get his poems published and like, nobody will take his work which is saying something because he is a rich boy from a good family. like maybe he gets One poem published because like, an old friend of his dad's owns the magazine and tells the editor to throw him a bone, and he throws a huge luncheon to celebrate the publication and he is So Excited.

also obviously he is such a romantic but he Does Not Know How To Talk To Women Despite His Greatest Desire In Life From Day One Being To Talk To Women He Loves to Hang With Girlies . like i think during the marriage season he just gets really in his head and overthinks it and is really stupid and also gets like, really fixated on one eligible young lady per season and that young lady is NEVER interested in him she is ALWAYS out of his league and pre-betrothed . like i think cecily was the strongest love/infatuation of his human life but i also think she was the latest in a long line of like, william comes home from the latest ball and is like, Mother I Found The One I Found The Girl I'm Going To Marry and Isn't Miss Bradshaw Just Lovely??? and his mother already knows from her gossip over tea that miss bradshaw is soon to be engaged to colonel phillips but she also can't stand to bruise his lil self esteem so she's just like oh :))) that's so sweet dear i can't wait to meet her :))) you must bring her over to introduce to me for supper :)) can she play the pianoforte? meanwhile if he wasn't so myopic (see it's funny bc he's NOT myopic he's actually farsighted hehe) he'd be able to loosen his sights a little and actually court someone successfully who would see he is sweet and kind and nice :) but he is way too nervous and anxious and frazzled to

anyway at most of these balls he ends up reverting to his natural state and just chatting with the aunts and dowagers and chaperones and spinsters like . he simply wants to be shooting the shit with the old ladies and moms it is his natural state it is his personal brand of heroin . he is this meme but it's about gossiping with the old ladies

ALSO obviously he is a reader he is a brontes boy he is a byron boy he is a wilde boy he is a tennyson boy i KNOW he is . he is an austen boy and he kins marianne dashwood . he can talk to you about keats for fifty minutes straight . also obviously because he studied classics he is In It he is like excuse me do you have a minute to talk about sappho :))) do you have a minute to talk about how apuleius' the golden ass is a metaphor for the transformation of the soul :)) he said hello excuse me :))) also he LOVES the opera ,sdfds everyone is going to the opera to flirt and spy and gossip meanwhile he is wrenching the opera glasses out of the hand of the young lady his mama charitably set him up with like Excuse Me I Know Youre Using Those To See What's Up With the Couple In The Next Box But If I Don't Get a Closer Look At the Tears and Pain On That Tenor's Face I will Perish Look How He Emotes the Lyrics. Darling Are You Looking At How He Emotes . william said it's actually so much more beautiful if you speak the italian :)))) ALSO i KNOW that boy loves a penny dreadful but he gets scared when they're too creepyspookygothic :) he said excuse me small victorian child selling these penny dreadfuls on the street but can you inform me next time it is a pleasing pulpy love story? thank you so much :) can't bear so much dreadful death :) and the kid is like. sir, dreadful is in the name :)

ANYWAY THAT'S HUMAN SPIKE THAT'S MY BOY THAT'S MY BABY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH <33

#this is making me wanna write a victoriana spike fic SO BAD #ask #btvs meta

[button-kin-games]

Development Diary: Jude's World, Part 6

Last time I shared three problems I was having with my in-development solo, tarot-based TTRPG about a plucky preteen protagonist struggling to reunite their warring parents. This month let’s talk about how I solved those problems and discovered a bunch more in the process. Because hey, that’s play testing!

The first problem I had with my previous draft was that I didn’t feel that I knew enough about my protagonist to be invested in them before I started writing their journal. I decided to expand the relationship building mechanic I’d created to flesh out their parents’ love story — a tarot spread with questions tied to each position — to instead cover the history of the whole family unit. I swapped out some of the questions about Mika and Jamie (Jude’s parents) for some about Jude’s early childhood. I still might change a couple of the questions or rephrase them, but on my next play through I felt much more at home with Jude’s perspective and personality without losing too much of the attachment that I’d previously found myself developing towards their parents’ relationship. Which is good, since the latter is something we spend the game digging into.

The second problem I had was that I didn’t feel like there was enough “structure” around the storylines I had for Jude, which were intended to balance the Traps and provide Jude with perspective and character growth. This was related to a third problem I had, which was that storylines didn’t really connect with anything else mechanically in the game. As well as being harder and less fun to engage with than the Traps they were highly skippable.

I solved both of these by switching out the four-part storyline arcs I spent so long on in my first draft (sigh) for one-liner “Changes” tied to each major arcana in the standard tarot deck. Going through a Change gives Jude boost to a new stat: Teen. Mechanically a high Teen score will make Jude’s Traps more reliably successful. Narratively I think this makes sense. In theory the more you mature the better you understand the human heart. Changes range from moving schools to having your first crush, to attending your first protest. They’re a mixture of good and bad milestones intended to create drama that is focussed on Jude, rather than drama that’s all about their parents.

I’ve completed my fourth play test now and I’m really pleased with these alterations. I feel like some magic is starting to happen. Of course now there’s a new batch of things to think about.

Problem 1: Marking Scars can get heavy fast

When Jude sets up a Trap for their parents and it fails on a roll of the dice, we mark a Scar. Narratively this means that their parents leave the situation less pleased with each other than before and Jude discovers something concerning about their relationship. This is all good and intentional, but what Jude finds out is up to the player, and it can be tempting to go heavy right away.

In my last play through Jude ended up inviting one of their parents’ exes to a party in an attempt to make the other jealous (what can I say? The cards made me do it.) This backfired spectacularly and resulted in marking a Scar. I found myself written into a corner where it made most sense for Jude to discover a history of sexual jealousy, perhaps even adultery in their parents’ relationship. This was only the second Trap of the game and, if I’d played on, I still wonder how I could’ve squared this knowledge with Jude’s continued efforts to bring these two back together. This needs a little softening.

I want to try wrapping a heart to heart with one or both of Jude’s parents into these moments. Something to provide a little closure and context from those characters’ perspectives. I think this will be a good course correct for the tone and it’s in keeping with the tropes of the teen media this game draws a lot from.

Problem 2: Every single thing is high stakes

The Traps are dramatic. They’re balanced by big Changes in Jude’s life. Where’s the episode where Jude goes to the cinema with their friends? Where are the sleep overs? Heck, where’s the never ending boredom I remember from pre-teendom? I’m thinking of adding some kind of hijinks table for some in-between diary entries to round out all the drama.

Problem 3: So. Many. Prompts.

Every mechanic in this game — the Traps, the Changes, you name it — generates at least one prompt for a diary entry. Right now the prompt generation phase and the writing phase are a bit jumbled up. The flow of play isn’t right yet and I’m conscious that there’s currently a lot to hold in one’s head between diary entries. And if I, the person most intimately familiar with the rules of this game, am feeling that then I can only imagine the tangle a new player could get into. I need some kind of system to help players hold on to Jude’s various life events until they’re ready to write about them. The good news is I love organising things. The bad news is I’m stumped for the minute about how to go about this. I don’t want to get that structure wrong and add yet more complexity, but it definitely needs… something. The clouds will part at some point, I’m sure.

So, there you have it. Things to work on for play test five. After which my ambition is to start showing the game to more people. Games can only grow so much confined inside one skull. Like trees. Or goldfish. Help me nourish a mighty koi! If you’re interested in being a play tester go ahead and contact me through any of my socials or by email at [email protected].

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg #ttrpg dev #ttrpg stuff

[agentmothmanstrikesagain]

A very generously large gift basket is brought in for Dib. There’s snacks, a hand held gaming console and several games, all set among an array of flowers, including pink and purple hibiscus, red roses, and tulips. A note is attached written in deep magenta ink.

“I am going to find the people who did this to you and tear them into microscopic pieces before launching them into the nearest star. I am glad you are home safe. I will come visit you as soon as I can if it’s alright with Her Highness. I wish you a gentle recovery. Do not push yourself I will know. - Tallest Zim.”

Dib wasn’t particularly taken aback by the flowers. It wasn’t unusual to receive them from friends or family during rough times, especially when bedridden in a hospital. However the choice of flowers themselves were what first caught him off guard. Had this been intentional? 

Dib wasn’t an expert but he had a rough understanding of flowers and their symbolism, having spent plenty of time agonizing over thousands of choices with Midge when she and Dek had decided to renew their wedding vows and have a get together with everyone. Good lord… that had been forever ago hadn’t it?

Dib shook his head, trying to get back to his original train of thought. Clearly whoever had sent these flowers must not have thought the symbolism through, although Dib understood perfectly well that not everyone was obsessively and poetically well versed in the symbolic meaning of everything they could lay their eyes on. 

The hibiscus when given to a pets generally meant that someone was trying to say “I think you’re perfect.” Not only did this beautiful arrangement of flowers have hibiscuses, but there were two different colors of them…. Dib would have to look the separate color meanings up later…

Then there were of course the bright red roses. Those were incredibly obvious… Passion, love, romance…. Dib cleared his throat loudly and looked away from the roses and onto the tulips, which came in a variety of multiple colors. Loyalty… hope… royalty? True love?!? Someone clearly had their cornflakes twisted when they’d sent this…. Right??? But then… the hibiscus always had been his favorite…

Dib shook his head and sighed quietly. He needed to stop over analyzing… it was mentally exhausting him. He began to peruse the snacks in the basket and simply just enjoy the brightly colored flowers and their beautiful scent when he found the note tucked away between them all. He opened it, quickly and nervously glancing around to ensure he was alone, still wary of tricks and illusions, before he began to read.

Oh dear…. “Signed Tallest Zim” Dib mouthed the words, still unable to make a sound. 

Well…. Dib wasn’t fucking stupid. He knew Salvis when he saw it. Or maybe… maybe he was just reading too much into all this. After all, the Tallest was just a friend.. it wasn’t like they’d hung out hundreds of times… it wasn’t like Dib had cried into his arms before after finally letting go of the hope that he’d ever see his Zim again… it wasn’t like Tallest Zim was the first person to be there for him to snap him out of it when he’d gotten turned into a vicious werewolf for a week straight…. 

Dib promptly stuffed the note in his mouth in a flustered panic and fucking ate it, despite the texture and taste of paper being absolutely nut-fuck awful. He quickly bottled up every thought he’d just had neatly compartmentalized it all, and shoved it aaaaaaallll the way back in the very dankest and darkest little corners of his mind where he could never touch them again. 

But wait… he couldn’t leave his Tallest Zim without a response, that’d be so incredibly rude, and Dib didn’t want to be an ass…. But his brain was running at a million miles per hour right now, what the fuck could he even say??? After two hours of internalized mental agonizing, Dib simply and quickly scrawled “Come see me.” On a piece of paper with a hastily drawn doodle of Nebula wearing sunglasses and doing little finger guns. “Signed… Dib” he mouthed as he wrote it out at the bottom of the page. 

Yes. Truly this was an appropriate response. He’d have to ask Midge to send it in a little blue envelope for him later…. 

#[the return] #[heart palpitations] #((That’s what I’m calling his interactions with Tallest Zim)) #((Notice how he’s been completely distracted from his trauma and missing legs… mmmmmm good soup))