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#a post for the two people that might want this
hedgehog-moss · 3 days
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The blueberry tart moral quandary has been very fun to ponder! Thank you for sharing it with us. I think the real question, however, is what each of your animals would think about ordering two slices of tart under the circumstances
You're right, that IS the true question here. Let's situate this in a universe where blueberry tart is safe & delicious to eat for all animal species.
CHICKENS. The chickens would definitely want that second helping of tart because chickens live in a solipsistic moral universe and would hesitate to share tart even if it was their dying sister's last wish. However if you place two slices of tart on the ground for 2 chickens, they will immediately and violently start fighting each other over the same slice, thus giving you the opportunity to discreetly retrieve the first slice for yourself. Moreover, if a chicken manages to break off half of the slice and starts running like hell to go eat it elsewhere in peace, the other chicken will take off after her instead of eating the other half happily by herself. If they then break this half in two while fighting over it, they will resume fighting over that half of the half, allowing you to retrieve 3/4 of the second slice. And so on. This is Zeno's paradox applied to chickens and tart: the hens will spend the rest of eternity fighting over diminishing crumbs while you get almost all of the second slice back (albeit broken in increasingly minuscule halves.)
CATS. Not only would the cats want that second slice regardless of who else wants it, they would also sit & start grooming themselves on the rest of the pie with great serenity, rendering it inedible for anyone else. However, my original post established that the pies were under large bell jars. Two of my three cats are (to their everlasting torment) stymied by this sadistic human invention. If the bell jar is heavy enough that you can't push it off the table (a popular strategy), then Mascarille and Merricat will just circle it a few times, ram their faces into the glass, do a full body swipe against it in case this might open a secret door, and then walk away in frustration. Morille on the other hand is a cat possessed of extreme patience, diabolical intelligence and acute interest in forbidden food. She will get the tart no matter how long she has to lie in wait.
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DOG. Pandolf would not want a second slice or even a first one, if he is made to understand that this might make other people sad. The thing with Pandolf is, he can smell disappointment. His great big nose picks up on every particle of human disappointment in the air and they go straight to his heart. He is also too polite to even defend his bone from thieving chickens. There's no way he would claim any tart at all unless someone gave it to him and made it clear they would be happy for him to eat it. However Pandolf is very cute when he sits there with a lolling tongue, happy for others to have a good time, and there is also no way one or several persons wouldn't give him their slice of tart. He would definitely end up with tart.
LLAMAS. Pampelune is the matriarch and since her duties involve dying to protect her herd in case of predator attacks, she considers it her prerogative to eat first and as much as she damn pleases in compensation. She would get two slices. I believe Poldine would choose to have only one slice and kiss everyone in the restaurant on the cheek for good measure, and I also believe she would actually get zero tart. As shown in the salt video, Poldine understands her place in the pasture hierarchy (the one who eats last) and has to resort to subterfuge to get even 1 lick of salt while others are gorging themselves. She will be very dependent on other people's temperance and decency to get any tart (so, Pandolf is her best bet.) Meanwhile Pampérigouste is trying to figure out how to escape the restaurant undetected to go on an adventure while the sheeple are talking about tart. She will get one or two or three slices but only if they can facilitate her various stratagems (for example, to bribe a guard at the door.)
The FISH—do not have the cognitive abilities to worry about morals but more importantly, do not experience soul-deep desires in the way the birds and mammals in this list do. My fish live in a smooth and quiet world where the gods make food rain from the sky every day. In this luminescent existence of untroubled abundance their capacity for longing has atrophied. They do not understand what wanting tart means, let alone the complex philosophical agonies humans can put themselves through when faced with culinary conundrums.
DONKEY. Pirlouit's first instinct would be to claim all the tart he can eat and then some. However donkeys and fish sit at opposite ends of the philosophical spectrum; Pirlouit strikes me as an animal who would be interested in exploring the ethical ramifications of the issue, as an intellectual exercise. 70% of his life consists in quiet deep ponderings. I think Pirlouit could get distracted ruminating the blueberry tart quandary in light of the rich philosophical heritage of donkey civilisation, and arrive too late to get any tart by the time he determined whether one or two slices is the right answer. Kind of like that time he got distracted by his need for revenge and was late for breakfast and the llamas had already claimed the hay.
IN CONCLUSION.
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pocketramblr · 3 days
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Please!
AU where both Izuku and Bakugou are rejected from UA Hero Course.
And to make it juicy. The reason for the rejections is the suicide baiting incident being known by UA. While Bakugou is rejected for obvious reasons. Izuku is rejected for his ‘own safety’ and because they won’t trust his psyche went unscathed.
1- The thing about Bakugou is that he was not particularly well liked by his classmates at Aldera. Oh, he had friends, and no one was willing to stand up to him, but plenty of students had grudges about how he acted. They rolled their eyes when Bakugou went on a rant about being the only one who could make it to UA, or his lackeys hyped him up, but then they'd look away without a word when he caught them and glared. No one was going to say he wasn't powerful and couldn't do it, just like they weren't going to say Deku had any chance. Sometimes, capable people are also very annoying, and you just have to deal with that, so the kids did. And if a few were in a small group chat that would sneak pictures or videos to show the kids not in their class and complain, well, that's what the kids did. And then one day, one filmed the conversation after school, after Bakugou threw out the notebook, and posted it publicly, as well as in the chat.
2- nothing came of this. Izuku had either blocked or been blocked by a lot of his classmates online, and hadn't really bothered to look for most of them anyway, so neither he nor Bakugou are aware of the video. The sludge villain sort of happened an hour later, and that's what got the big media buzz- the news couldn't publish the names of the teens involved if they ever even had them, but locally, people at Aldera knew who the kids on tv were.
3- the next year, UA has its recommendation exams. Every student is meticulously background checked before even being accepted as an potential for the exam and interview. A couple weeks later, they have the standard exam. The background checks will happen after this- UA after all has a very prestigious image. Bakugou wasn't wrong that if he took his lackey's cigarette and UA found out, his chances would be gone. Unfortunately for him, the video was still online. Mostly forgotten about... Until it contained not one but two potential UA students.
4- Nedzu and the six hero course homeroom teachers are on the board of student admissions, but so are two others each from administration, public relations, the school board, and the heroics commission. The top fifty scorers are ruthlessly picked through. The video is watched. Some want to exclude Izuku, some Bakugou, some both. Nedzu would prefer to have them both enrolled in separate classes, but is outvoted. He doesn't warn the board this will mean All Might will not be staying on to teach - he really can't, without telling secrets, but he does warn All Might the next night, and gracefully accepts his resignation.
5- a week after the exams, acceptance and rejection letters are sent. These are simply written on paper. Apparently neither of them are a good fit for the school. No further reason is given. Bakugou spends one day in his room, quieter than ever, then rush applies to other schools. Shiketsu is supposed to be UA's equal. Perhaps their admissions process will be less rigid. Or perhaps his rise to number one is "supposed" to come from humble starts, and Aldera Middle School wasn't that, but some mid rank hero school is. Meanwhile, on the beach, All Might tells Izuku that he actually ended up with the most rescue points in the exam, and his score was high enough to place him in top ten... It was just the screenings afterwards that did it. Perhaps the school was concerned about his health, with him breaking nearly every limb. Or perhaps his incorrect quirk registration was a red flag- either way, it's things All Might blames himself for, Izuku is the one who passed the test, and with only a few hours of having OfA too. So All Might asks Izuku what he wants to do- try for another hero school nearby? Toshinori probably can't get a job there on short notice without being suspicious, but he'll work to train him every day after, and come up with some other excuse for why he's in the field less. Or, should he reach out to I-island? Toshinori's even willing to see about setting up a personal internship with himself or Gran Torino, though he really kinda hopes Izuku doesn't pick that one. Izuku bursts into tears and apologies, having only held them back this long out of shame, they hug, and Toshi tells Izuku to take his time deciding, it'll be all right, because Izuku is here and he has full faith in him, regardless of what UA admissions thinks.
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joelsgreys · 2 days
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a safe haven l ten
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.
word count: 5k
a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?
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“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”
Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.
“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”
“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”
He shakes his head in utter exasperation.
“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”
Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.
Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.
Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”
He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.
Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.
Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.
Exactly how far had Luke taken it?
Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?
Until you almost lost complete consciousness?
Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?
Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?
Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.
This shouldn’t have happened.
He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.
This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.
“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.
His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.
Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.
But can you honestly fault him for that?
How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?
Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.
And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.
He should have done something.
Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.
“Joel—”
“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.
Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.
“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”
With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”
“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.
“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”
“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.
Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.
His brother wouldn’t believe it.
“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”
“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.
Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.
Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”
“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.
“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”
Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.
“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”
Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”
He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”
She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”
“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”
He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.
“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”
He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”
“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”
“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”
Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”
“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.
“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”
“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”
“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”
Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”
Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.
“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”
He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”
She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”
“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”
Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 
“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”
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“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.
“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”
She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”
Moments later, you both hear the shower going.
“Little shit,” he grumbles.
You exhale an amused huff through your nose.
Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”
Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”
“Runnin’ you a bath.”
You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”
“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”
You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know.”
“I’m capable of washing myself—”
“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”
That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.
“But your hand—”
“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”
Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.
“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.
Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.
Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”
You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.
“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”
You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.
He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.
As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.
“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?
The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.
Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.
“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”
“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”
He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.
You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.
“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”
A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”
He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”
Home.
You’re home.
He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.
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It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.
He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.
“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.
“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”
“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”
You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”
“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”
“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”
Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”
Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.
“I—I’m not too sure.”
“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”
Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”
“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”
“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”
“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”
“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”
She disappears, closing the door behind her.
“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”
“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”
Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.
“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”
“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”
“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”
Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.
“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”
Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.
“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.
“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.
He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.
Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”
Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.
You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Joel? What’s the matter?”
“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.
“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.
Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”
“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”
Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.
You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.
Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.
Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”
“You’re going to build the crib?”
He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”
“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”
“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”
You fall silent.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”
He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”
His declaration comes with natural ease.
And so does yours.
“I love you too, Joel.”
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legalkimchi · 1 day
Text
Please learn more than just a Phrase.
I don't expect people to be subject matter experts on issues of global politics.
But false equivalency is rampant in online discourse regarding three major conflicts in the world today. I am using the word conflict in this post, however, when applicable, i will use other words to describe specifics. (Nuance folks... it's a thing)
So i start off with an assumption that most people don't understand the basics of most international events. As an american, i only know some of the stuff that is happening within my own nation. This is not an insult to you, dear reader. Rather, it is a position we all must realize we are in. You do not understand most world issues.
You just don't.
you aren't there. it isn't your life. you don't have the academic background.
I saw a post recently calling for "freedom for Palestine, Sudan, and Congo."
And it bothered me. Not because i am opposed to peace, (how is asking for ceasefire a bad thing?) but rather because i believe simplifying the conflicts with this wording showcases the ignorance of the differences.
Not all conflicts are the same.
In palestine, we have a convoluted mess where two groups claim a territory as home. getting into the in-depth story of this conflict takes time. Foundational elements of it take place thousands of years ago, but the conflict itself is only about 75 years old. So it is a long and short story. Currently, the sovereign state of Israel is engaging in a genocide in Gaza. Asking for freedom for palestinians makes sense. they live in an apartheid state and would like a state of their own. they wish to be free of occupation. you can argue with the details, be pro-israel, or whatever, but that is the basic ask of palestinians. (if you want to get into anti-semetic regional sentiment or the desire of certain groups to eradicate the israeli jewish population or Israel as a nation that's a different topic, not the point of what i'm talking about.)
In the Congo and Sudan, it is a different story.
Let's start with the Congo. First of all, Which Congo?
Let's please understand that there is the Republic of the Congo and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The Republic of the Congo is a former french colony. Then there is Democratic Republic of the Congo. Some of us might remember this country as Zaire.
the DRC is the congo we are talking about in the news. This was a former belgian colony and the atrocities committed by the belgians there rival any genocide in human history. i've seen estimates between 5 million and 20 million deaths. some estimates state the population of native congolese were cut in HALF. since the turbulent start of the country after their independence in 1960, the country knew relative peace until the 1990s. Then a mixture of a weak central government and the Rwandan Civil war (which had it's own genocide you may have heard about) spilled over into what was then Zaire. Zaire dissolved, and the DRC took it's place, But the wars have been raging off an on since then. earlier this year, more civil war violence erupted AGAIN. This displaced millions, AGAIN. while the DRC is a bit of an autocratic and repressive regime, the rebel groups are groups with ties with the Rwandan government and the other group with ties to Isis. It's awful all the way down.
Sudan has had an ongoing civil war for over 20 years. I remember this because i helped lead some anti-genocide protests regarding Darfur when i was in college 20 years ago. I've been following this conflict for nearly my entire adult life. you may have heard about this with regards to the Save Darfur coalition regarding the genocide in Darfur. Well, that genocide has continued (albeit with less intensity) for 20 years. the civil war lasted until 2021, but restarted in a different form in late 2023. the conflict is now between two different sides of the military government fighting each other.
It is an awful conflict full of awful leaders. Sudan's government suffered a revolution in 2019 from a dictator, only to have that government overthrown in a coup by the current dictator. The Sudanese military is supported by folks like Russia and North Korea. you might see that among the other countries that support sudan, bunch of communist countries, and you might think "hey, maybe al-Burhan is a leftist".
no... no he is not.
He is a military despot. He has no ties to any real ideology. He just runs sudan as a military dictator.
So who is opposing him?
The Rapid Support Forces. and you may be thinking "ok, so they are the good guys? trying to overthrow the dictator?"
No... They are the ones that instigated the Genocide in Darfur.
This is a situation is "no matter who wins, the people of Sudan lose."
So when folks claim these are all the same. Or wonder why folks talk about one and not the other.
there are reasons. These are very different conflicts. Please learn about them. It matters more than spouting some 4 word slogan calling for "freedom."
Find out what the people of these areas actually need. Learn more about what is happening. My description above is incomplete. I may even get some things wrong. I am trying to keep informed, but I am not an expert, nor do i live there. Raise voices from the region and find out if there are ways to help.
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Twst Dormleaders + Jamil Accidentally Call MC (Y/N) a Mudblood During an Argument
A/N: This is a Harry Potter AU. I would highly suggest reading the previous: “Twst boys and their Blood Status”, to really grasp the understanding of this concept because if you don’t you may or may not be confused. If you aren’t familiar with the term “Mudblood”, it’s a very offensive word that pure-blood wizards and half blood wizards (ironically enough) use against muggleborns. The meaning is “dirty blood”. Now I know I said in the previous post that most of the boys would never discriminate against blood status, and that’s true but sometimes people can say what they don’t mean, especially when they’re angry. Now I might make a part 2 of this post as redemption headcanons on how they apologize, idk. Now just to clarify MC (y/n) is not dating them but the boys do have a secret crush on them and they’re friends.
Riddle Rosehearts
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You two were arguing about how you are apparently getting “lazy” with your school work. But in your defense you weren’t being lazy because you had a lot on your plate, being prefect of Ramshackle and the “beast tamer”.
You two were in the Heartstabyl Lounge area studying because he wanted to help you
You kept picking up your phone every five minutes to answer texts from your friends or professors and Riddle was getting annoyed with you every passing minute.
“Prefect, don’t you know how rude it is to be on your phone when someone is speaking to you?” He says tapping his gloved fingers on the table with an annoyed expression.
“Hm?” You say while scrolling and not making eye contact.
Riddle rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to be paying attention. I’m helping you for a reason. On your last potions exam you received a 70%. That’s extremely disgraceful for not only just for a regular student, but also a prefect!”
You finally put your phone down and make eye contact with him. “Will you just relax? A 70% isn’t bad. It’s still passing, and besides that topic was so hard to learn. Will you just cut me some slack?”
Riddle sees red when you say a mere 70% “isn’t bad”. He stands up and begins to raise his voice while making eye contact with you. “You can’t be serious Y/n! You’re supposed to be setting an example! Why are you even a prefect if you can’t even have the motivation to work hard and have perseverance! And besides the topic wasn’t even difficult, it’s just you’re not even trying!”
You get angry and stand up to meet his eye level. “Not trying? NOT TRYING? You have no idea what my life is like everyday! To have an idiot headmaster to make you do his job for him, solve problems that aren’t even your fault and stop overblots without dying! Of course you would be inconsiderate of my situation and scold me! Listen just because your mother was hard on you with your academics, doesn’t mean you have to act that way with me!”
Riddle loses it
“YOU’RE RIGHT, I WOULDN’T EXPECT A MUDBLOOD LIKE YOU TO UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF SUCCEEDING IN COMPLEX WIZARD ACADEMICS!”
There was a pause
You stare at him for a long time without blinking
Riddle realizes what came out of his mouth, he knows that was he said was extremely below the belt. He clears his throat and averts his eyes.
Then his eyes widen with horror, a sight he was dreaded to see. Your eyes went red and glossy. Tears began to flow from your eyes.
“Y/n I-.” He was cut off by you swiftly packing your things and hastily leaving the room.
Riddle quietly curses himself. How stupid can he be? He made people cry before. But he’d never thought in a million years that he would make the person he secretly loved cry. Especially using….THAT word. He wants to make it up to you. But how?
Leona Kingscholar
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You were angry at the fact that Crowley made it YOUR responsibility to make sure that Leona was going to class on time and participate in his studies.
Not only that, but you were angry at the fact that you barely got to spend time with him due to his excessive sleeping schedule. At first, you didn’t mind helping Leona get to class on time or that he likes to sleep. But after a while, it became a chore to “babysit” the lazy lion.
You were on your way to the botanical gardens, Leona’s self claimed napping spot, to tell him he needs to be in class.
You found him
“Leona.” You gently shook him.
He shifts and turns to you with a half open glare.
He lightly growls. “Go away Herbivore. Can’t you see I’m napping?”
You roll your eyes. “Yes I can see that and you shouldn’t be. You are meant to be in class.”
He ignores you
You huff in frustration and gently kick his side. “Up. Now.”
Leona growls loudly this time and sits up.
“Don’t you have any idea of how much this situation affects me? What do you get out of sleeping all the time? I want to spend time with you and you’re not making any effort on your part.” You say while crossing your arms.
Leona rolls his eyes
“Tsk. You’re such a nuisance. Not everything is about you. Now run along and play with the other annoying first year brats.” He turns his head while shooing his hand dismissively.
Your eyes widen.
“Are you kidding me?! Do you know how much pressure I’m in? You are so selfish! You act like you’re the king of everything and don’t even give a damn about things around you! You’re being heartless!
“Just leave, you’re being an annoying mudblood but you don’t seem to be aware of that.”
“W-what?….” You say quietly and shocked staring at him.
“I said leave!” He says shifting back into his previous sleeping position turning away from you.
You look down and tears make their way fast down your cheeks.
“F-fine…I’ll go.” You say trying to sound like you weren’t crying but failed.
You turned on your heel and quickly made your way out of the botanical gardens without looking back.
When you left Leona instantly felt a weight on him….a feeling called guilt. He curses himself and shifts his laying position to him now laying on his back looking up. He couldn’t believe that he just disrespected the one he secretly fancied. He knows he���ll get a scolding from Ruggie later.
Azul Ashengrotto
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You and Azul were partnered for a potion project for Professor Crewel’s Alchemy class.
Many students didn’t like working with Azul due to his reputation, however, you were fine with working with him because you seen him from a different angle.
However with intelligence comes with a touch of arrogance.
Azul had a bad habit of being arrogant because of how intelligent he was. And just because you were friends with him, there was no exception.
You both were in one of the labs working on the potion
“Stop. Stop. Stop. You’re adding too much.” He says while blocking the top of the cauldron with his hands.
You look at him annoyed. He’s been doing this for the past 15 minutes. You were confident that you were following the instructions carefully.
“No I’m not.” “Yes you are.” “No.” “Yes.”
That went on for some time.
You were finally fed up
“Why are you so obnoxious, Azul? Why do you think you’re superior to me?” Azul rubs his temple annoyed. “That’s not the case. I’m just simply correcting you of your mistakes. That’s all prefect.” He says through his teeth.
“I barely make mistakes! I’m just as capable as you are when it comes to magic! Hell I’m just as skilled as you are!”
Azul then chuckles lowly.
“Why are you laughing?” You say with a hint of venom in your voice.
“Prefect, let’s not over-exaggerate and make unrealistic claims.” He says arrogantly as he mixes the potion.
“And what exactly are you implying?” He pauses and collects himself before he answers.
“Let’s just say you have a lot of room for improvement. Compared to you I am more gifted and boarder line perfect at my studies.”
You retaliated
“Well I can say the same for you.” He pauses and looks at you. “Oh? Do tell?”
“While you have intelligence you sure lack at physical education. Not exactly what I would call “perfect”. Azul’s eyebrow twitches when you mention the one subject in school he sucks at.
Physical education was a really touchy subject for Azul. He was constantly bullied because he was always in last place. He sucked at it when he was a kid, and he sucked at it now.
You smirk in satisfaction when you see his reaction and you continue to add ingredients to the cauldron.
“At least I’m not a headmaster’s lapdog!” He says in defense.
You stop what you’re doing and turn to him. “At least I’m not a scheming, lying sad excuse of a house warden who can’t let go of the past!”
“AT LEAST I’M NOT A FILTHY MUDBLOOD WHO DOESN’T BELONG HERE!”
You look at him with wide eyes.
Azul immediately realizes his mistake
“Y/n please I-.” He tries to walk over to you but you walk away. He hears faint noises of whimpers and sniffles coming from you. It was clear that you were crying. He sighs angry at himself
“Why did I do that?….now they’ll never love me back….”
Kalim Al Asim
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You two were hanging out in the Scarabia dorm lounge. Kalim had tea and snacks laid out and you both were talking for hours.
Kalim wanted to ask you questions about the world you came from
Some were easy to answer but some of them were on the touchy side. Such as “What were your parents like?” Or “Were you happy with your old self before you came here?” Etc.
You were slightly annoyed but didn’t say anything
Then suddenly Kalim asks
“Do you know why the mirror chose you? I mean after all your boarder line just a regular human with the exception of a little bit magical ancestry.”
This question made you set your teacup down. You didn’t know why. So many people asked you this question. You didn’t know why you were randomly taken away from a world you were content in. The more you thought about it, the less special you thought you were.
“I-I don’t know Kalim, can you please not ask me that again?”
Kalim looks at you surprised
“But why? It’s just a simple question.”
“No it’s not, just drop it okay?” You say averting your eyes
“Oh I should’ve known….mudblood’s tend to be really sensitive about their feelings.”
Now it’s to be mentioned that Kalim didn’t know what the word “mudblood” actually meant. All he knew was it was a term used to address muggle-borns. In fact he thought it was a new use of slang because he over heard some other pure-blood wizards use that term in class. He didn’t know that it would offend you.
You freeze and slowly meet his gaze
Kalim looks at you. “What?”
“Don’t you EVER call me that again!” And with that, you get up and angrily march your way out of the lounge passing Jamil on your way out.
Kalim looks at Jamil shocked. “Did I say something wrong?”
Jamil shakes his head disapprovingly while rubbing his temple and mumbles, “Why are you such an idiot?”
Jamil Viper
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You wanted Jamil to take a break. That’s all you wanted.
He was over-working himself because he felt obligated to. Even Kalim told him to take a break. But he simply wouldn’t accept it.
He wasn’t answering your texts and even calls, so you made your way to Scarabia
You searched for him everywhere until you caught sight of him making his way to his bedroom.
“Jamil!” I speed walked up to him and he meets your gaze with a tired and bored expression.
He exhales sharply. “What do you want Prefect. I’m quite busy.”
“That’s exactly why I need to talk to you. Why are you making yourself busy all the time? You haven’t been answering your phone.”
He rubs his temple annoyed. “And here I thought you needed something important……if you came here to waste my time, leave. I have no time for nonsense.”
He turns to enter his room but you grab his arm to stop him. “Why are you being like this. I just want to help-“
“Well you aren’t! So stop trying and leave! I don’t know why you would care about a servant like me!”
You were taken aback by his harsh response
“Is this what this is about?! I don’t care about your status!” You say. “I just want to spend time with you that’s all! You don’t have to be at Kalim’s side for every little thing!”
“WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT MY SITUATION AND HARD WORK, YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A MUDBLOOD!”
Pause
You let go of his arm and take a few steps back
“Wait hold on I-.” Jamil tries to say, but you left teary eyed.
Jamil curses under his breath and goes into his room. His sits down on his bed and reflects on what just happened while putting his hands through his hair.
“Now they’ll definitely choose Kalim over me now…”
Vil Schoenheit
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“Honestly Prefect, do you always leave looking like this?”
Vil has been scolding you for the past ten minutes because of the state of your messy attire.
You were rolling your eyes because of how dramatic he was being. After all, it was just your tie being undone and there were just a few strands of hair out of place.
“Stop being over-dramatic, Vil. It’s not a big deal.”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “It is VERY much a big deal. If you’re going to be a Prefect, you need to look your best. Your academics not only reflect your dorm and school but also how well kept you keep yourself!”
He begins to fix your hair and tie but you were being uncooperative and moved a lot.
“Stop moving!” “Get your hands off me!”
He stops and looks at you. “So you would rather look like a filthy potato and have me just leave you like this?”
“I want you stop acting like you’re my mother!” You say defensively.
“Well if you dressed yourself properly, I wouldn’t have to!” He retaliates.
“Do you take pride in being a stuck up person?!” You yell back.
“And do YOU take pride in being an unfashionable mudblood?” He says calmly while glaring down at you.
You look at him shocked with wide eyes
His glare softens and he clears his throat realizing his rude mistake.
“Prefect….listen…” Before he could finish you take off.
Rook , who was listening to the whole conversation, of course, seen you leaving and went up to Vil.
“That was a very unbeautiful thing to say, Roi de Poison. You have to apologize.”
Vil exhales sharply, “I know….i just wanted to help…I just wanted to show them how beautiful they are. But they won’t let me…”
Rook sighs, “By calling them the forbidden word?”
Vil’s gaze is down
“At this rate….they’ll never give me a chance…I have to make it up to them.”
Idia Shroud
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You wanted him to leave his room. It was a very unhealthy life style in your opinion.
You guys always spent time in his room all because he didn’t want to leave due to his anti-social lifestyle.
Well this time, you wanted to change things a bit
You went to Ignihyde dorm, and you made your way to his room. You knocked on the door and he answered it.
“H-Hey Prefect.”
“Why don’t we hang out outside today. It’s a great cloudy day out.”
He pauses before he answers
“W-why?”
“Well, it’s different and you could get out more- “No.” He cuts you off.
“No? But why?”
He rolls his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed Prefect, I don’t do well with….outside.”
You cross your arms. “Well it wouldn’t hurt to try. Come on.” You take his arm and lead him outside despite his protests.
You both make your way outside of the dorm and go into the main court yard of the school.
“See? Isn’t this better?” You say with a smile.
He shakes his head slowly while looking at the ground.
You both go sit down on a bench and begin talking.
“Hey Prefect!” You look up and see Ace and Deuce. “Hey!” You smile and wave them over.
Idia rolls his eyes in annoyance. He hated interacting with other people, not only that, he was annoyed at the fact that Ace and Deuce always was interrupting your guys’s hang out time. Whether if it was showing up in person or texting. He was always jealous of them. Couldn’t they go one day without talking to you?
“So whatcha guys doing?” Asked Ace.
“Well we are just sitting here and talking.” You replied with a smile. “May we join you?” Deuce asked.
“Sur- “No.” Idia interrupts you. You look at him confused. “Huh?” Ace says. Deuce speaks up. “So is that a yes or- “It’s a no.” Idia says passive aggressively.
Ace and Deuce look at you confused. “Well…okay…see you later y/n.” Ace says awkwardly and leaves with Deuce. After they leave, you turn to Idia and glare.
“What the hell was that? Why did you do that?”
“Why do YOU feel the need to be at their aid every moment of every day?” He replies hostile.
“What’s your problem? Are you still mad at the fact that I made you come outside?” “No….its not that!” “Then what is it?! You’re being extremely weird.” “And you’re being an inconsiderate mudblood!”
“No YOU’RE the one who’s-….wait…what?”
He pauses and averts his eye realizing what he said. “Um…”
Your blood boils as you stand up. “Fine, you can go back to your room. I’m sorry that a mudblood like me wasted your time.” You hastily leaves the area.
“Wait hold on-.” He was left with his own thoughts. “……Ortho is not gonna like this.” He says quietly to himself.
Malleus Draconia
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Malleus wanted to spend time with you so badly. However, your rigorous schedule wouldn’t allow it.
He would always try to make plans with you, like getting ice cream together, going on nightly walks, or even studying; but you always politely declined
The more times you canceled, the more annoyed and angry Malleus got.
Well he had enough and decided to confront you late at night. He got Silver to tell you to meet him at the court yard.
Once you got there, you were met with a very angry dragon fae.
“Oh Tsunotaro, did you need something?”
“I’m not liking the fact that you’re being so casual about this, Child of Man.”
You look at him confused, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about, you were completely oblivious towards his words.
“Have I done something wrong?”
He exhales so sharply in frustration that you could’ve sworn you seen smoke coming out of him. You know that he’s extremely upset.
“You always decline my plans with you. And yet you have the audacity to be so naive about it. Not to mention, I see you around those first years, you claim that you’re “busy” but you’re spending time with them….” He glares at you with his arms crossed. Then it finally hit you, was he jealous?
“Tsunotaro, listen-.”
“No, I believe that it is YOU who will listen, Child of Man. I go out of my way to make some time with you and this is how you repay me?”
You get defensive. “YOU have to make time??? I have to make time for so much! You have no idea what my life is like! I’m sorry that you’re so clingy to understand, but I have a life too. And besides I wouldn’t exactly call my time with Ace and Deuce “hanging out”, I would call it “babysitting”, because that’s exactly what I do everyday! Babysit! So I’m sorry if you’re so clingy and needy to the point where you can’t understand that I can’t babysit and entertain you too!”
He takes great offense to your words. Is that really what you see him as? A somebody to entertain for a while and drop them whenever you felt like it?
He glares at you. “Perhaps Sebek was correct….all of you mudbloods are the same.” He says lowly enough for you to hear him.
Your glare disappears and you stare at him in shock. “W-what?…”
He averts his eyes in shame when he sees your reaction. The idea sounded better in his head than out loud. He just wanted to hurt your feelings so that you could feel what he felt when you ditched him all those times….he was so tired of being alone.
“F-fine then….” You say teary eyed. “I should‘ve known a pure-blood wizard like you wouldn’t be caught dead with the likes of me.”
“Child of man….wait-.” You ran off back to your own dorm. Leaving him there.
He gazes down at the ground. “What have I done…..they’ll never love me….”
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Text
CLARA BOW // charles leclerc - pt. 4
charles leclerc x figureskater!reader
part 1 part 2 part 3
summary: you're an aspiring olympic gold medalist who just wants to compete and have fun. on the way there, a handsome monegasque f1 driver slides into your dms and changes the trajectory of your life.
note: pt. 4 bby! i'm so excited to finally get into the main part of this story with you guys! you have no idea of the devilry i have planned 😈
cassievilleneuve
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liked by y/n l/n, isabeau.levito, and 8,393 others
cassievilleneuve we weren't cool enough for the amex lounge 🥲
view all 134 comments...
carolinevilleneuve sleepy bears 🧸💙
y/n l/n at least my ass looks nice 🤷🏻‍♀️
cassievilleneuve speak for yourself i look like a potato 😭 thanks care
carolinevilleneuve anytime 😁
leclerclover43 y/n is so unserious i love her 😄 "at least my ass looks nice"
y/n l/n well it does, doesn't it?
leclerclover43 you're so right queen ofc it does 🤧
leclerclover43 also, any reason why you might be traveling?
y/n l/n 👀🤫
leclerclover43 oH
isabeau.levito vacation without me? 🥲
y/n l/n bby issy you have school!
isabeau.levito australia >>>>>>> school
isabeau.levito also, where did all these people come from? what did i miss?
carolinevilleneuve you missed the y/n x hot driver saga!? dm NOW
callsignice am i the only one wondering why y/n's going to australia literally like 4 days after the olympics ended? didn't she just get back home?
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y/n l/n
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 22,691 others
y/n l/n cassie's man crush treated us to... whatever that is 😄
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cassievilleneuve i do NOT have a crush!!
y/n l/n bro be so fr i know more about him than i know about my own crushes 😭
sainzismysign don't be shy y/n, tell us, who's your crush 👀
y/n l/n i don't kiss and tell 😝
charles_leclerc Whatever that is it looks like a lot of sugar 😳 can i have some?
y/n l/n i'd get you some, but i don't need your trainer up in my dms threatening me 😔
charles_leclerc Andrea's an angel, I promise 🙏🏻 no threats
pierregasly Andrea, an angel? LMAO
charles_leclerc Pierre, fermez-la!
emmalechair yeah pierre let our boy shoot his shot!
carolinevilleneuve ...where did this picture come from? i don't remember going to a restaurant?
y/n l/n neither did i 😄 the man crush sent it to me
carolinevilleneuve @cassievilleneuve YOU WENT ON A DATE!?
cassievilleneuve IT WASN'T A DATE
y/n l/n liar 😆
mclaren
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and 390,986 others
mclaren Live footage of @landonorris lying straight to our face after going on a date and consuming his weight in sugar.
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alllyyyssson ehem eXcUsE ME!? LANDO WENT ON A DATE!?
cecelewis ADMIN TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW
jazzyruiz admin rlly thought they could slip the "lando went on a date" at the beginning of the caption and we wouldn't notice 😭
landosleni my husband is cheating on me!?!?!
landonorris IT WASN'T A DATE
mclaren Sure it wasn't, buddy 😛
danielricciardo why you lying
neonorangepapaya LMAO dragggg him daniel!
y/n l/n ✓ 2m
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Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit Melbourne, Australia
"Are you sure this is even a good idea?" Y/N bit her lip nervously, letting the hometown hero - Daniel Ricciardo - drag her down the paddock.
"Bit too late for second thoughts now, isn't it?" Daniel quipped, nodding his head at a passing mechanic.
"I'm not having second thoughts, I just... he didn't even invite me here."
"Which is the whole point of a surprise," Daniel pointed out. He turned back to look at her briefly, "By the way, where's your friend?"
At that, Y/N giggled, "With Lando. Those two have been joined at the hip ever since he picked us up from the airport."
"So it was a date!" Daniel crowed triumphantly.
"Obviously!" Y/N snickered. "What else could it have been?"
"He was telling everyone you were there too after the McLaren admin made that post."
Y/N scoffed, "Now, that's a lie! I was dead asleep in our hotel room. Cassie snuck out and I didn't find out until I woke up and saw that Lando sent me that picture, saying she was in good hands."
"I'm not surprised. I wouldn't want to be caught dead on a date with Lando either." Daniel nodded, mock thoughtfully.
Y/N giggled again, "I don't think that's why she didn't tell me."
He hummed, but refrained from saying anything else as they reached the Ferrari garage, bustling as it was with mechanics, engineers, and strategists.
Y/N came to a full stop as he called out, "Oi! Frenchman! Over here!"
An accented voice yelled back, "I'm Monegasque!", as Charles Leclerc emerged from the sea of red, clad in his own scarlet racing gear.
"Same thing," Daniel grinned, but Charles' attention was no longer on him.
"Y/N?" He blurted out in shock.
Y/N lifted a hand nervously and waved, "Hi?"
Charles stood there, staring at her like he'd seen a ghost, until someone behind him shoved him forward and he snapped out of his reverie.
"Uh, hi! Hi!" He laughed, hovering in front of her uncertainly. "What are you doing here?"
"Lando and Daniel invited me," Y/N bit her lip, cheeks reddening. "They, um- we thought it might be a nice surprise."
He didn't say anything for a moment, but just as she was getting ready to backtrack, his face broke out into a beaming smile and he pulled her into a half-hug - an uncertain one, the kind you give someone if you know them, but you don't know them enough to give them a full hug.
"Welcome to Ferrari," he stated loudly as camera flashes went off, pictures and videos recording the moment that would go viral on Twitter and Instagram for the entirety of that day. "The best team on the grid!"
tag list: @1655clean, @norwayxo, @thecubanator2, @theendofthematerialgworl, @c-losur3, @lightdragonrayne
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wardenparker · 3 days
Text
Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 11
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 14.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Marcus Pike the Breeding Kink King, a dash of dirty talk, the tiniest whiff of roleplay, sexual activity in a public place, cum eating. False accusations of cheating, gossip rags being gossipy, descriptions of getting a tattoo (needle mention). Summary: The end of your trip to Texas comes with a few surprises, and a meeting with your mother goes far better than expected. But good things do not guarantee paradise forever. Notes: Hi my lovelies! I do apologize for the spotty posting timeline lately. My health has been inconsistent to say the very least and continues to be unpredictable. Thank you for bearing with me and always being so incredibly supportive. I'm certain that I missed fixing some errors in this chapter, but I blame the migraine I've have for the last 10 days. Enjoy this week's chapter!
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10
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The last night you and Marcus are in Texas comes after an afternoon-long barbecue that somehow manages to outdo every barbecue of every previous day. You're pretty sure that you've been nibbling constantly since sunrise but rather than being overwhelmed, you're just sorry that you're going to have to leave tomorrow and not see most of these people again for a long time.
The water in Marcus's hand is for you and he comes over to drop a kiss on your lips as he presses it into your hand. "Band is starting at seven." He tells you. "Do you want to shower beforehand?"
"Probably should." There's mischievousness in your agreement, though, and you tuck a smirk in the corner of your mouth as you take the water from him. "I saved my cutest top for tonight. To be the very best groupie I can be."
"Oh really?" He chuckles at how eager you have been to meet his old bandmates. "I like groupies." He smirks, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you close. "Really like them."
"Do you want to show me how much?" You ask, letting that smirk loose but keeping your voice very quiet even when you bat your eyelashes at him.
"I can do that while we shower." He groans wickedly, winking at you. "Unless you want to save that for after the show?"
"No need to save," you assure him easily, drinking down half of the glass of cold water he brought you and letting your grin grow wider. "There will be hours in between. We can do both."
"Insatiable." He grins back and you, wrinkling his nose slightly and proud about that fact. "I love it."
"C'mon." Grabbing his hand, you head for the house with a bitten back grin. Back inside and upstairs to his room – now appropriately defiled by the fact that you're in that Early Relationship Honeymoon Period and horny as hell – to add his childhood bathroom to the list of places you've fucked on this property.
Marcus smirks when there’s a number of suggestive whistles that ring out. Everyone here aware of how eager the two of you are and he gives a halfhearted wave before disappearing. You might be embarrassed if you cared at all, but his cousins have been nothing but welcoming and accepting. They all seem to share the opinion that Marcus has waited too long to meet his match and you are more than happy to be the one that they have welcomed as their cousin – or nephew or son's – perfect match.
“I love them all, but I need to get you alone.” Marcus huffs as he practically races over to the stairs.
"Alone, naked, and wet, I hope." You're on the stairs just ahead of him, the advantage of one or two steps meaning your ass is right in his face as you hustle up to the second floor.
"How wet you are depends on how good of a job I do turning you on." He can't help himself, reaching out and slapping your ass, something you love if your delighted giggle is anything to go by. "How wet are you?"
“Wet enough that if you even touch me over my clothes, I’m going to moan,” you admit, glancing back at him when you reach the top of the stairs.
"Promises, promises." Marcus reaches out and cups your pussy from behind, jumping up the last two steps to press close to you. "Fuck, I love you." He growls into your ear as he rubs your clit.
“Oh fuck—” Maybe it’s more of a whine than a groan but the arousal in your voice is unmistakable. Pressed between Marcus and the wall, your hips rock to get as much pressure and friction from his hand as absolutely possible. “I—I love you too, baby. Fuck.”
"Shower." He orders softly, pulling away from you reluctantly. He knows he can't fuck you in the hallway and his cock is already pressing against his shorts.
Since the discovery of your interest in a more submissive role sexually, you and Marcus have been enjoying playing with the dynamic. Soft orders for things that he knows will bring you both pleasure. Seeing how well you follow his instructions while he’s inside of you in any way. Right now you move with long strides to get to the shower as quickly as possible, already shedding your clothes along the way.
Smirking as he watches the rushed strip show, Marcus pulls his own shirt over his head. He's never had someone so enthusiastic for his touch and it's honestly its own kind of high. Plenty of women wanted him, but not with the hunger that you constantly display. He can only hope that it never changes. "So sexy." He huffs, unbuttoning his shorts to step out of them as he follows you.
“Oh yeah?” As soon as the water is on, you glance back over your shoulder and throw him the most tantalizing glance you can possibly summon. “Come and show me how much.”
“Fuck.” He hisses and immediately rushes forward to crowd into the shower with you, pressing kisses to your back as he folds in closer to you.
Marcus might be testing the waters with how dominant he’s comfortable being, but he still likes it when you show him how much you want him. When you hum at the feeling of his hands on your skin or moan deep in your throat at the perfect kiss. He even loves moments like these, when you whimper at the way his large hands spread over your body to hold you as close to him as you can possibly be without him being inside you.
“Love you.” He whispers into your skin, not wanting you to forget it in the two seconds since he has said it last.
“I love you, too.” Pressed into that little space together, you twist your head around to kiss him and then lean forward against the wall. There aren’t too many comfortable ways to fuck standing up under falling water, but having him press into you from behind is good no matter where you are.
His hands slide over your body and one sinks between your thighs. Immediately parting enough for his hands with a quickness than has him smiling. “You like when I finger you?” He teases. “Rub your sensitive little clit for you?”
“I like every way you touch me.” Your hips roll as if to prove it, searching for the right angle to get his thick fingers to sink inside of you.
“Greedy.” He chuckles softly. “That’s what you are.” He doesn’t pull his hand away, giving you what you want as two fingers slip inside you. “My greedy girl.”
“Can’t blame me for getting addicted.” You moan, forehead pressed against the tile, when his fingers scissor open inside you. “You feel so fucking good baby.”
“You feel better.” He groans quickly, working you open as the hot water rushes over you.
“Made just for you, baby.” If there was ever anyone you could truly feel that about, it’s Marcus. The way he seems to make you feel complete in ways you didn’t know you needed or even wanted is uncanny and beautiful. And the way he fills you to bursting is just as fantastic.
Marcus worships you with small kisses as his fingers move inside you, groaning in your ear about how good you feel. The thick length of him pressed against your ass. “Marcus—” His name is a whine and a prayer with every long stroke of his fingers. “Please, baby. Please fuck me.”
“I’m going to.” He promises, grinding against your ass as he continues to finger you. “Too bad you still have your birth control.” He moans in your ear. “Dreamed about you pregnant last night. Nice and round with my baby.”
“Fuck.” If anyone had suggested pregnancy or breeding or any of those fertility-related kinks to you before Marcus, you might have laughed them out of your bedroom. But in a few short weeks, you’ve got from wanting children but not looking forward to being pregnant — all the way to getting wet at the thought of starting to swell with Marcus’s baby. The impulse to promise you’ll stop taking it tomorrow is right on the tip of your tongue but you know it’s just a touch too soon. “Yeah?” You breathe instead. “You woke up hard to the thought of fucking me full of your baby?”
“Why do you think I was ravenous this morning?” He asks, chuckling at how he had woken you up. He had been a little embarrassed by the dream, so he hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but realized later that it was dumb to keep it from you. “When you’re ready, I’m going to be feral.”
“We need to start building that house now.” You insist, suddenly possessed of a whole new set of reasons to be eager for more privacy.
He chuckles as he nibbles on your shoulder, moving to the hollow of your neck. “Yeah? You want to paint a nursery right away baby?”
“We’re gonna have to if you keep growling about getting me pregnant.” Something which you apparently find far sexier than you anticipated, if the way your cunt throbs and pulses around his fingers is any indication.
"You love the idea." He challenges softly, humming against your pulse. "It's not my fault you're so perfect I can see the future we have in store."
“I love the idea so much I’m ready to say let’s just buy a house.” The throaty laugh you let out burns into a long moan when he curls his fingers inside you. “Need you, baby.”
"Never want you to say that I don't give you what you want." He pushes your feet apart, careful not to let you slip on the slick tile and pulls his fingers out of you to immediately replace them with his cock. A smooth transition planned to keep you from missing the fullness.
There is more freedom here, at least where volume is concerned, and when your moan bounces off the tile it is music to Marcus's ears. The utterly satisfying fullness of having him inside you is indescribable, even if you have tried to find the words several times talking to Syd. Sharp, powerful strokes will work you both up to your peak quickly, letting you enjoy the water that burns as hot as your skin as he pounds into you.
Marcus has learned that going harder is needed sometimes. It’s something that both of you enjoy and lose yourselves in, always making sure that you are still with him with filthy sweet praises in your ear. “My perfect princess.” He groans. “Taking me so well.”
It’s so much filthier coming from such a sweet, unassuming man like Marcus, and he presses you into the wall with a firmness that leaves absolutely no room for questioning. You are his. He is yours. And anything you moan to each other in the throes of passion is fair game. Filth, praise, and everything in between is welcome as your hips slap against your ass and your throat strangled around the endless cries of pleasure.
It’s never been this good. It’s cliched to even think it, but it’s true. He can barely even breathe when you are surrounding him. Drowning in you happily. “Fuck, I love you.” He promises. His hands squeeze and caress before sinking back between your thighs to rub your clit while he continues to fuck you at a frantic pace.
“Love you so — fuck! — so fucking much.” You practically claw at the wall of the shower when the calloused pads of his fingers find your swollen clit and press in on tight circles. Perfect little circles. “So close baby, so fucking close.”
“That’s it.” He groans. “Want you to cum. Want you to soak me. Need it.” He dips his hips lower and changes the angle that he shreds up inside you.
“Fuck—fuck—can’t wait until you’re fucking me full of your babies, oh god—” He’s already an expert at tearing you apart and putting you back together, and this time will be no exception. Your legs shake with it and your belly tightens, coiling at the base of your spine tightening as pleasure rips through you.
“That’s it, fuck, so good, Princess.” He hisses in pleasure. “Cum for me. Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock. I love it.” It only takes two or three more sharp snaps of his hips before you’re calling his name, sure that if anyone else is in the house right now they can definitely hear you but too overcome with pleasure and too full of him to care.
When you cum, it’s like your entire soul melt with his. Your heartbeats align and for a split second, Marcus can’t tell where you end and he begins. Perfectly fused together in ecstasy. As soon as you tighten around him, his thrusts ease, still moving but helping you float down from the precipice. “Good girl, fuck baby, you are so good to me.” He pants in your ear. “So good. Giving me everything, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, I can feel it.”
“Fill me up, baby.” Your legs may be rubber at this point but that sensation of his cum painting your inner walls is worth holding out for. It has you rocking your hips back even more than you need to ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm, hoping to bring him to his.
He loves when you say that. Groaning your name as his pace picks back up. The slap of his hips not quite as sharp, but insistent. “Gonna, fuck baby, gonna fill you up.” He moans in your ear. “Drip me all night.”
From the way his hips start to stutter you know he’s close, and you grind back against him with a low moan. “Gonna be dripping your cum while I meet all your friends.”
“Just the way I want you.” He groans, kissing your shoulder and moaning as he pushes deep, throbbing inside you as he fills you up.
There’s nothing but the sound of running water and panting breath for a minute or two as you both collect yourselves, arms wrapped around each other in the best way you can manage while he’s still inside you and you’re leaning on the shower wall. “I love you so fucking much.” You murmur, giggling softly at the giddy feeling still coursing through your veins.
“I love you too.” He whispers, smiling against your shoulder as the soft aftershocks continue to squeeze him as he softens inside you. “Addicted to everything about you.”
“Glad we agree about that.” It isn’t elegant but you twist around and manage to place a kiss on his jaw. “So…breeding kink, huh?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles sheepishly as he slowly pulls out of you. “Sorry. I know that took you by surprise.”
“Not in a bad way.” You promise him, fully turning around now, to put your arms around him before you both have to clean up. “Surprising but…potentially shared?”
“When it actually happens is still one hundred percent up to you.” He assures you, wanting you to know he would never pressure you, no matter how much he dreams about the future. “But shared, huh?”
“Surprise,” you tease, reaching for a washcloth.
“Every day is an adventure with you.” He chuckles and steals another kiss before he turns his attention to getting ready for tonight.
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You’re right on time despite taking an overlong shower, arriving at the club in downtown Dallas in time to see a group of his old friends gathered at the bar.
“Hey.” A carefree grin lights up his face, reunited with old friends and their spouses. The band is about to leave to get on stage so it’s quick backslaps and promises to catch up later after he introduces you proudly. They disappear and it seems like all the other crowd around you to all talk about Marcus.
It’s much the same as it was with his cousins. Quick questions about you — or the occasional “That’s why I recognize you!” — but mostly wanting to tell stories about young Marcus in the olden days, teasing their old friend and gauging your reaction to their stories to decide if you’re good enough for him. You don’t mind of course. Your friends would have done the same if they hadn’t already met Marcus before you got together.
“Hey now.” Marcus pouts and protests but it’s all in good fun. He’s enjoying the stories; taking him back down memory lane. He hugs you tighter to him as he laughs at a college age story, where he had imbibed a little too much and made a fool of himself.
“Everyone got drunk and dumb in college at least once, didn’t they?” You hug his side and grin at him while his friends tease and chatter. “And I’m sure you weren’t the only college student in the world to skateboard across campus in boxers and a cowboy hat. I’m just impressed you didn’t fall off the board more if you were drunk.”
“Hammered.” He confirms with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know if I would have felt anything that night.”
“All the better that you didn’t get hurt then,” you laugh with him, enjoying these glimpses into the Marcus of the past. “Though I think we should recreate the look. For posterity.”
“Bachelor party.” He grins, leaning in and kissing you on the nose. “One of those boring co-ed ones where the couple is disgusting and can’t be apart for even one night of debauchery.”
“Cause we’re gross in love.” The smile on your face is blinding, lighting you up from the inside out as you beam at him.
“Yes we are.” He agrees, unable to stop himself from kissing you again, as his friends groan playfully around you both.
“Yeah, yeah.” Marcus’s old college roommate huffs good naturedly and rolls his eyes. This is the guy Marcus had lived with before he moved off campus to live with Lara and he’s always known Marcus Pike to be exceptionally lucky in love. “Lucky bastard.”
“I am.” He agrees with a small nod. “I’m honestly surprised that you aren’t already engaged.” One of his closest college study partners snickers as she shoots you a grin. “He always was rushing into things headfirst.”
“Don’t think he didn’t give me a ring right away,” you joke, holding up the shimmering promise ring on your hand. “But we want to keep our heads on straight, so it’s a promise for now and an engagement a little bit into the future.”
“There’s the Marcus we know and love.” She giggles, taking your hand and admiring the ring. “Honey, it’s gorgeous.”
“Isn’t it?” The little heart-shaped diamonds wink and shine in the dim lighting of the club and you can’t help but smile proudly. “I told him he set a dangerous precedent with this one. If the promise ring is this beautiful then the engagement ring has to be, too.”
“Knowing Marcus, it’s perfectly designed to set with your promise ring.” She guesses, grinning wildly when he shuffles guiltily. “I knew it!” She throws her arm around his shoulder and smacks a playful kiss on his cheek. “Atta boy!”
“You did not buy it already!” You gasp in shock, giggling with unrestrained joy at the embarrassment and glee on his face.
“It’s safe.” He promises, shrugging slightly. “I didn’t want to risk them not having the perfect mate when I came back.”
“You’re incorrigibly sweet.” The idea that he’d gone so out of his way makes you melt on the spot, with warmth in your cheeks and a fluttering extra beat of your heart. “And I love you.”
His group of friends cheers when you kiss this time. For all the shit they give him, they are all thrill Marcus has found his sweet soulmate. Right then, the lights dim and everyone turns towards the stage. “Marcus Pike.” His eyes widen when the lead singer says his name. “Report to the stage. There is a bass waiting to be played.”
“Oh fuck yes!” When you squeal with absolute pure excitement you grab his side and practically cackle with glee. Even Agent Bailey is smirking in her plain clothes. “Go, baby! Go!”
“Oh my Gooooood.” Marcus groans as he’s practically shoved towards the stage and he shakes his head, pointing his finger at the band. “I hate you guys.” He moans, even as he shuffles closer, but they just grin.
“Best night ever!” You call back, grinning from ear to ear as you make your way to the front with his friends.
“This is going to be amazing.” Hooking her arm through yours, Stephanie grins at you. “Have you ever heard Marcus sing?”
“No.” And you pout about it for about two seconds before the glint returns to your eyes. “He always demurs and says he’s not that great but I know he’s being humble.”
Marcus shrugs out of his leather jacket and winds the strap of the bass around his neck and back to quickly strum a chord before adjusting the tension to his liking. “I’m going to hurt all of you.” He huffs, even if he’s grinning out at you.
“You fucking love us.” The lead singer, his old friend Leo, reminds him with a shit-eating grin.
Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs, not even able to deny it. “Which songs are we doing?” He asks instead.
“Set list is next to your pedal,” Leo tells him, grin only growing bolder when Marcus doesn’t deny anything. He knows his old friend misses playing. They’ve talked about it. Hence this silly little stunt. “Just like riding a bike, right Pike?”
He snorts and looks out at the crowd, his eyes automatically finding you and he smiles. “Yeah.” He scoffs. “If riding a bike means embarrassing the shit out of yourself in front of your soulmate.”
“It absolutely fucking does, dude.” Leo laughs, slapping Marcus on the back before he steps up to the mic to hype up the already excited crowd.
Marcus winks at you from the stage and looks at the lineup. Most of them are songs that they performed when he was in the band and quite a few that he knows Leo knows he knows. Apparently this wasn’t just a last minute deal. As Leo introduces the band, Marcus starts the bass chords for the first song.
It’s not the night you were planning — swaying to the music with Marcus with a cold beer in your hand while his friends played. This is infinitely better. Marcus is in his element up on that stage, showing off and playing to the crowd and making sure he finds your eyes every so often. Surrounded by friends and an enthusiastic audience, you could see Marcus enjoying many more nights like this. It makes you all the more glad that his friends decided to surprise him.
The crowd is a mix of older and younger people, the songs favorites and he enjoys the energy of the people singing along. Finally finished and sweating, in desperate need of a beer, he grins when you clap and yell.
"You are absolutely incredible." The second he hops down off the stage; you're practically jumping into his arms to give him a kiss. "And I never, ever want to hear anything about your singing voice again. That might be the sexiest singing ever."
He laughs, catching you easily and spinning you around. “Think you might be a little biased, Princess.” He teases, feeling euphoric and like he could do anything tonight.
"So?" The giggle that bubbles out of you is nothing short of adrenaline-infused joy. "I'm still right."
“Shit.” The laughter is infectious and he joins you. “I need a beer.” He admits, squeezing you close.
"Allow me." You insist, and when he makes a face you hold up a hand, still grinning. "Groupie's privilege."
“Groupie, huh?” He chuckles again and slides his hand down to your ass. “You have someone in mind?”
"Yeah," you poke his side and laugh, wiggling the fingers of your other hand in his face. "The one wearing the ring."
“Ring?” He glances at your hand and smirks. “That’s a pretty ring baby, but I could do better.” He flirts. “Dump that guy and run away with me. I’ve gotta sweet van and I know how to treat a lady.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"You think you can do better for me than my soulmate?" Batting your eyelashes back at him and half playing along, you tug Marcus toward the bar to get him his drink. "He's pretty amazing."
“I know I can.” He snorts, grinning at your playful banter. “You’ve never been with a musician baby.”
"Hmmm." An amused hum barely smothers your grin and laughter. "I have heard that bassists are experts with their fingering."
“Then you know.” He nods as you both slide up to the bar and Marcus orders a draft. He turns back to you. “My fingers are magic, baby.” He promises. “I can take you to the stars.”
It's too hard for you not to giggle at that, leaning into his side there at the bar. "I did know that already, though."
He breaks the character he was putting on and winks at you. “I was merely playing my favorite instrument.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Your pussy.”
"Marcus." Your tone is very false in its admonishment, and you're still grinning when you swat at his arm. "You can play her any time you like."
“Now?” He arches a brow in challenge.
You should have known he would jump on it, and you tilt your head at him with a wide-eyed expression. "I mean...not here but..." Glancing around the room proves that there is little cover to be found, and you bite your lip. "Bathroom?"
Marcus smirks and nods to the bartender when he sets his drink down. “Come on.” He takes your hand and drags you away, unable to even drink his beer in his haste to make you cum.
Practically able to feel the heaviness of Agent Bailey's eyes tracking you across the club, you can't bring yourself to care. Not when the promise of his hands on you is so close you can already feel it.
Normally, Marcus would never do this. Not now. But somehow, being with his own friends and playing, seems to have tapped into the wilder side he had exposed when he was younger. Not thinking like an FBI agent at this moment.
The club has two single-occupant bathrooms in a back hallway, and Marcus shoves open the door to the nearest one to tug you inside. "Holy shit." You're giggling again, bubbling over with it. "We're so lucky Agent Bailey trusts you."
“Amazing what a background check and a security clearance will get you.” He jokes as he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He knows he can’t be in here too long with you, it would be rude, but he has to touch you right now. You are just adoring him too much.
It's almost too bad you wore jeans tonight, but you had wanted to keep that feeling of fullness after the shower and truth be told the denim inseam still managed to give you a little stimulation on the way out here tonight. Now Marcus pops the top button open with eager fingers and you whimper softly, biting back the sound so no one in the hall outside hears you.
“Gotta be quiet, Princess.” He coos, smirking at your already lust blown eyes. “Can’t let anyone know you’re fucking a musician in a bathroom, can you?”
You’ve never done anything like this before and he knows that, but with wide eyes and the shivering desire to obey, you nod your head and bite back a needy whine. His hand slides down your panties, finding you slick with new desire and the remnants of his cum covering your lips. He groans your name in your ear and immediately pushes two fingers deep inside you.
It takes effort not to cry out. Not to whimper or moan or keen his name at the sharp, sweet intrusion of two thick fingers deep in your pussy. The vaguely taboo tint of doing something sexual in a public place only makes it better — a surprising feeling that you’ll have to bite for later — and you bury your face in the crook of Marcus’s neck, knowing that it will muffle the little bit of sound that you simply can’t swallow in your own throat. He doesn’t draw it out, doesn’t tease you. Just pumping his fingers deep and twisting his wrist to rub your clit as he tries to see how fast he can make you cum for him.
It’s like being sent up in a rocket, where all you can do is lean back against the sink in the little bathroom and hold on tight. He knows your body, knows how to make you see stars without breaking much of a sweat, and the adrenaline from playing on stage that’s still coursing through him keeps the pace of his fingers thrusting inside you at an almost punishing speed that feels amazing.
It’s like his playing a song with your body. The soft whimper echoing the timing of the beat of his fingers. Kissing along your neck as he pants against your skin. Already throbbing in his pants, but this is for you. “Good girl, baby. You’re so sweet for me.” He groans quietly.
There's not really much you're doing for him right now except keeping quiet and spreading your legs so he can dive inside you, but you'll fix that later. You'll lay him out on his bed and worship him for as long as he will let you. Right now your back arches and you have to let go of your white knuckle hold on the counter in order to tug him closer, pouring the moan that you want to let loose into a kiss instead.
He feels when you let go. Your moan muffled by your tongue as your walls soak his fingers in their pulsing grip. Feeling your heartbeat through the sensitive walls of your pussy. It’s so good and he loves that you are enjoying yourself as the bar music plays loudly.
"Fucking hell..." When you can finally breathe again you look up him with a hazy smile. "I'm gonna give you the best blow job of your life later on," you promise him with a grin.
He smirks as he pulls his wet fingers out of your fluttering cunt and holds them up to the dim light of the bathroom. They are shiny with your slick and he reaches out to your lips. “Open.” He orders.
That was not at all the response you were expecting, but somehow it far sexier because of that, and even though you've just cum you can feel your pussy fluttering at what he wants you to do. It only takes a second before you open your mouth, letting him put his fingers heavily on your tongue before you obediently clean them of any trace of your slick.
Marcus groans quietly, cock twitching in his pants and all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink to fuck you this time, but he can’t. You pop his fingers out of his mouth and he hisses at your innocent look. “Good girl.” His voice is raspy and dripping with lust.
"I feel like I should start calling you something." Leaning up, you steal a kiss and then rebutton your jeans so the two of you can wash up and go back out to his friends. "But I don't know if you wanted to be that kind of dom."
Marcus chuckles as he watches you in the mirror. “So you’re telling me you want a red room in our new house, hm?”
"I'm not gonna be mad about it if you want one," you answer innocently. "I just had the very intense urge to call you...'daddy' a second ago, but I didn't know if you'd like it. That's all."
Marcus has never been in a situation where someone would call him daddy so he has to think about it. “Only one way to find out.” He decides, patting you on the ass as you move out from the sink so he can wash his hands.
"I guess we'll give it a try later then." The air dryer in the bathroom is loud enough to drown out any other conversation, so you finish cleaning up and steal yet another kiss before dragging him back out into the club feeling like you're living on Cloud Nine.
Everyone in the group knows what happened when the two of you disappeared. At least to some degree. They might not believe that it was only an orgasm for you, but the grins are wide and Marcus snorts at the whistling and clapping from the guys. You brush it off with burning hot cheeks and a grin and go to get fresh drinks from the bar. Tonight has been pretty fucking perfect in every way you can think of. The best possible way to say goodbye for now to Texas, although you know you'll be back as often as you can be.
Marcus accepts this beer quickly, feeling parched and he winks at you before he takes a sip. “I think she might want me to find a band in D.C.” he teases.
"Oh, ya think?" Stephanie snorts, leaning into Leo's side when he comes over to join you at a high-top table.
"Actually..." Leo smirks, looking down at his soulmate before he glances up and around the group. "The guys know this already but...there was a big reason we were glad Pike showed up tonight." He tips his beer toward Marcus in salute. "Tonight was the last Dallas show we might ever play."
“Really?” Marcus frowns instantly, looking around to the group. “You guys are gonna stop playing?”
"We're moving in about a month." Leo announces. His arm winds around Stephanie proudly and he squeezes her tight to his side. "Steph got an amazing job at George Washington Hospital. So we're actually moving to DC."
“What?” Marcus sputters and starts beaming. “That’s great!”
"I'm really excited," she admits, smiling even bigger and brighter than Marcus is. "So maybe you won't have to find a new band after all."
“Well, we’d still have to find other members.” He look at the guys. “Until you come out to visit.”
"Maybe we'll all move East." Their drummer, Clark, jokes. He takes a sip of his whiskey and leans on the table. "Y'all know anyone that needs an electrician or a carpenter? I could be persuaded."
“We’re gonna be building a house.” Marcus snorts. “You’re hired.” He’s joking, because he would never make that decision without you, but it’s interesting to think about. Clark is the best damn carpenter he knows.
"Actually..." Tilting your head to look at Marcus beside you, you shrug your shoulders a little and have a sip of your drink. "There's some work that needs to get done at the inn, too. I've been putting it off because my electrician retired last year and finding a new guy is a pain."
His brows lift in surprise and Clark smirks. “Really, tell me about it.” He encourages.
"It's a historical property," you clarify right away, knowing that that scares some people off. Which is fine with you, really. If they aren't comfortable working on historical structures, you're not going to work with them anyway. "Of course things have been updated, but the structure is colonial so it does require a little bit of tender loving care."
“That’s awesome.” Clark snorts. “I love historic structures. Have you rewired the entire building or are you having to replace as you uncover issues?” He asks. “Code has changed so much since knob and tube. And that’s recent in a historic home, depending on how historic.”
"I've only owned the property for a few years, so we're having to play catch up from the previous owner." His enthusiasm is met with plenty of your own, and you look back at Marcus with a wide grin. "You just watch how fast I adopt all your friends. I was not exaggerating about that being what my family does."
Marcus laughs and leans back. “Adopt away, babe.” He encourages you. “You’ll get sick of them quickly.” He teases, laughing again when they all shoot him a finger.
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Two days after touching back down in DC, the early morning meeting that you have with your mother and the communications staffer whose job it is to wrangle all things concerning the First Kids means that you’re up and moving before Marcus. You’re essentially having breakfast at the White House, which is less cozy than having coffee and muffins with your soulmate, but this meeting is important. You really do have things to talk to your mother about.
The staffers show you to the less formal dining rooms in the apartment, a rare time the president allows business to be conducted here, but it’s important that you feel comfortable.
The family dining room in the White House residence is still beautiful, and honestly you prefer it to the larger state dining room. The smaller and more casual room makes it easier to convince yourself that it’s just a normal breakfast with your mother today. Agent Bailey blends into the background here, noticeably more relaxed when she is around other agents and not working solo. It’s a good morning for both of you, and you move to the sideboard in the room to make yourself a cup of coffee while you wait for your mother to come in.
The communications staffer comes in and greets you warmly, laying out folders by the plates. “Your mother should be here in a few minutes. She was just in a briefing.”
“How are you, Annette?” The senior staffer that’s joining you is a woman that you’ve known for years. She was also on your mother’s staff in Pennsylvania and she is a good friend of the family after so many years working side by side.
“I’m doing well, how about you?” She asks politely and gives you a warm smile. “Your mother told me about your soulmate, I’m so thrilled for you.”
“That’s so sweet of you, thank you.” There’s going to be a lot more talk about Marcus as this goes on if your mother and Annette accept your proposal, but for now you sip your coffee and smile. “The adjustment to DC hasn’t been too bad for you? Everything’s been okay?” A little small talk before your mother comes in and breakfast gets served is actually nice. With everyone being so busy you feel like there are people you haven’t gotten to talk to in ages.
“It’s always crazy, but we are adjusting well.” She smiles. “Brad isn’t too fond of the traffic, but who is?” She snorts. “I keep threatening to steal a diplomatic plate.” She jokes.
"I'll nab them for you," you promise her, sitting back with your coffee and smiling at the way your promise ring glints in the room's lighting. "They can't fire me from being First Daughter."
She laughs, knowing that you are completely joking but it would be funny to see the headlines. “I’ll expect one then.” She teases, picking up her own coffee to sip.
It takes a few more minutes before your mother comes in, but you and Annette sit and chat and pour second (or third, in your case) cups of coffee.
“I’m sorry, Birdie, Annette.” Your mother rushes over to drop a kiss on your head and throw her arms around her friend’s shoulders briefly. “That took longer than I expected.”
“Everything okay?” You’re wildly aware that there is plenty that your mother deals with that you do not have the security clearance to know about, but that isn’t what you’re asking. You’re asking if your mother herself is okay.
“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “But I wish that people would stop trying to impress me with long winded reports going over every minute detail.” She huffs with a laugh. “My favorite briefing is from DIA Agent York. He gives me the bare bones information and it’s over in less than five minutes.”
“Would he consider it a blessing or a curse to be out on the State dinner guest lists in appreciation for his speedy briefings?” You ask, practically snorting a laugh at breakfast is served.
“Knowing the kind of man he is, a curse.” She snorts, appreciating your joke but also because she would never willingly let a man like Dave York around her family unless he was protecting them.
“Well, it’s nice to know that the chaos around here is just normal chaos.” The smile you offer your mother is fully understanding. The inn is your own beautiful area of normalized chaos.
“Of course. Thank you for coming.” She acknowledges that her life, her career isn’t the center of her children’s lives and she doesn’t take for granted when they make time for it outside the normal Friday night dinners. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course, Mom.” An early morning meeting is a small sacrifice to make, especially when Marcus exhausted you last night trying out a sexy little card game you’d had stashed away since Syd’s bachelorette party a couple of years ago. It’s safe to say he liked the suggestions the game came up with. “There’s coffee, amazing food, and my favourite Mom, why wouldn’t I come? Although Marcus’s mother is pretty great. Solid second place in the Best Mom Ever competition.”
“I wanted to ask you how your week in Texas went.” She admits, pouring her own cup of coffee. It’s her third cup of the day so far, but she’s also been up since four.
“Honestly?” You pause when a staff member sets a plate of hot food in front of each of the three of you and a large platter of pastries and fruit in the center of the table. The chorus of Thank you’s is in unison. “It was fantastic. His parents are great, I got along pretty well with most of his cousins, and even met a bunch of his friends from college. It was…” you grin at The admission forming on your lips. “It was really wonderful. His parents are planning on coming up to visit us here this summer.”
“That’s wonderful.” Your mother lights up and she nods. “We will have to have a family dinner.” She suggests. “Here? Personal tour of the White House? Do you think that would be something they would enjoy? I know his father would probably enjoy a game while he’s here as well.”
“Marcus has season tickets to the Nationals so we’re definitely planning on seeing a game.” The omelets that have been set out in front of you are steaming and you dig in to your plate without hesitation. “I was going to ask you about a tour for them so thank you for jumping on that. And I know they would love to meet you guys. A family dinner would be really great.”
“Marcus is wonderful and I can guarantee that it’s a reflection of his parents.” Your mother hums. “And as your soulmate, I think it’s important that everyone meets and gets along.”
“I know his parents already said they wouldn’t be offended if you were too busy, but I do want you guys to meet.” Donna and Matthew Pike had sworn that they would completely understand if they didn’t see hide or hair of your parents during the trip, but that hadn’t sat well with you. Your parents have always made time for the important things in their kids’ lives no matter how busy they were.
“Absolutely not.” Your mother sounds offended by the idea. “There is no reason, barring a world catastrophe, where we should meet his parents at your engagement party or some other event. “No, if they want to have something low key, we don’t have to meet here. But I am eager to meet them.” She shoots you a grin. “Diplomacy can wait for one evening.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t pass up the chance to have dinner at the White House.” The grin you send your mother is beaming and appreciative. “That’s a bragging right not everyone gets. There will be plenty of informal meals in the future.”
“Then I will try to make sure that the chef makes something that will measure up to the amazing food Sydney will be plying them with.” If it wouldn’t hurt your business, your mother would have hired her to be the White House chef in a heartbeat.
“I will carry that compliment back to her on a silver platter.” Now that all three of you are eating — devouring — your breakfasts, you don’t mind getting into things. Of course your mother doesn’t have all day for this meeting, but you expect to be sitting here with Annette for at least a little while. “So, before I put my two cents in, what kind of social media and press presence were you thinking you might wrangle me into?” You’re curious, after all. Since Junie has a clear passion and Alex is handsome and personable, whatever route they chose for you was bound to be a little different.
“Well, I was hoping that we could show how small businesses are vital for our economy.” Your mother looks over at Annette who is nodding. “You are a small business owner and you work with others as well.”
“Okay.” You nod, mumbling the word as you finish a bite of food. “So highlighting the small businesses we work with? Making visible visits to other small businesses? That kind of thing?”
“I know that you utilize some of the local merchants for your supplies.” Your mother nods. “Maybe some clips of you with them? We can do a voice over with the message we want to sent.”
“I’ll compile a list of who we have good relationships with and you let me know who you want to have footage of?” It’s a big plug for the businesses that you do actual work with, so you can’t imagine any of them objecting. “Patronizing your local small businesses is a message I’m happy to get behind.”
“Corporations have garnered too much power in the country.” Your mother agrees. “We need to find a balance between them and a simpler time where everyone shopped local.”
“Alright, that’s easy enough.” Although you’re sure that other complications will arise in time, agreeing to this plan is at least something you’re glad to do. “Anything else?”
A look is exchanged between Annette and your mother. A pause that should be concerning. “It’s about…your soulmate.” She begins.
“What about him?” You frown instantly, not liking the tone that has been chosen for this thought.
“I was hoping that you might sit for an interview.” Annette is the one who voices it. “For the Love is Love legislation that your mother is trying to get passed.
“Oh!” The hesitation in their voices is nothing to do with Marcus, really, and you relax measurably. “Yes. We can definitely do that. And actually?” Looking between your mother and Annette, wondering what they’ll think of this idea coming from you of all people. “I think I can do you one bigger than that.”
“What do you have in mind, young lady?” Your mother almost smirks at the idea that you are suggesting something.
“I know I’m not the kid you expect this from.” The look on her face says that loud and clear and you completely understand why. “But Marcus and I talked it over, and we thought we would see what you thought about a First Family love story. From engagement to wedding to building a house.”
As a career politician, it’s been a rare time where your mother has been speechless, but she just gapes at you, her mouth slightly ajar in shock. “I— are you sure?”
"I mean we're not offering to have a White House photographer follow us around every second of every day, but we know that things are going to get said about us no matter what. Our family are public figures, and Marcus grew up with a father in the spotlight. We figured that getting ahead of the narrative and giving people honest glances into who we are was a hell of a lot better than people just speculating wildly."
“That is an amazingly gracious idea.” She can understand that you are going out on a huge limb and that is so appreciated. “Are you sure you would be comfortable with that scope?”
"We've talked through it," you tell her, knowing that it's probably unbelievable for her to hear this coming from you. "And I'm more confident when I have Marcus with me. I feel better able to handle the extra sets of eyes on my life. So...I thought it made sense not to waste that."
“I think that would be incredible.” She reaches out for your hand. “Only what you will give us though. No more.” Your father had reminded her right before leaving for her briefing that you are her daughter and probably the most private out of the three children. You don’t crave the spotlight at all.
"Marcus thought we could start with the engagement," you tell her, knowing that this is a big leap for you and trying not to be nervous about it. "But I think I should put something on my social media about him being my soulmate first. Maybe some photos from a date with a small announcement?"
“It will mitigate any issues that might spring up.” She doesn’t mention how there has been chatter about the congressman being unhappy about the demise of your relationship. That’s not your concern.
"Our favorite restaurant is family-owned, and we can pick something to do afterward that is still small business or community oriented." That shouldn't be too awfully hard, considering the DC area is always crawling with choices for things to do. You're spoiled for it, really.
“Whatever you think would be best.” She smiles at you. “While I would normally have one million ideas, I think it’s better if this is organically from you.”
“I know Marcus already has my engagement ring hidden away somewhere.” A fact which makes your cheeks burn and your smile turn a little dopey. “But I don’t know anything else as far as that goes. Is it okay if I give him your email so he can touch base with you, Annette?”
“Absolutely!” Annette agrees immediately, while your mother looks impressed that your soulmate has already bought your engagement ring. More importantly is your reaction to that information, you look dreamy eyed and she couldn’t be more happy for you. “I must applaud Marcus for thinking ahead.” Your mother hums, taking a small sip of her coffee to hide her smile.
“We’re both thinking ahead.” A fact which gives you no end of pleasure. The flight back from Dallas had been spent in dreams and future plans, cuddled together looking out the window and making up a list of big and small things you wanted for your future together. “We’re starting to plot out what we want for our house, too. That’s the timeline that’s going to take the longest.”
“Your house?” You had mentioned it before, but your mother ticks her head to the side curiously.
“We’re going to build,” you explain, reaching for a scone from the plate of pastries on the table. “Since the land that the inn is on is more than enough and I own all of it, we’re going to use a portion at the back of the acreage to build a house.”
“That sounds like an adventure.” She’s always known you enjoy doing things your way and it’s refreshing to see that apparently your soulmate understands how much of your being is invested in the inn.
“It’s going to feel like a mansion after sharing my apartment in the inn.” After a little discussion, Marcus had decided that he would rather share the smaller space with you while the house is being built and sublet his current place to Clark — ensuring that his friend can have the new start in DC that he wants. “But we’re excited. It’s a whole lot of planning and big steps forward all at once, and for once I really have a partner who’s on the same page as me.”
“That’s the most important thing.” She knows this from experience. There is absolutely no way she would be the current president if your father hadn’t been on the same page as her as far was what their lives might look like. It’s something she’s always wanted for all of you.
“So…I know it’s more than you were going to ask of me.” Which you appreciate. Your mother recognizing and honoring your boundaries is something she had to work on a lot when you were in your teens and twenties. You look at up her and crack a small, bashful grin. “But it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity for something as uplifting and positive as a White House wedding.”
“A White House wedding?” Your mother’s gasp is surprised, honestly believing you would never even entertain an idea like that. “Are you- you’re joking right? It’s not April Fools Day. That was days ago.”
“I am not joking.” Although you can definitely see why she would be shocked. This is not a decision that you made quickly or easily — or alone. “But I do have an ulterior motive,” you admit, wanting there to be full transparency. “I am hoping that a super-secure and publicly documented White House wedding is a trade off for letting us go on our honeymoon alone.”
She doesn’t even glance at Annette. “Absolutely.” Your mother immediately insists. “There is no way I would want any kind of publicity for your honeymoon. You don’t even have to negotiate for that.” It’s honestly alarming that you think she might want you to do something for her political career on your honeymoon.
“Oh, that isn’t what I meant,” you clarify immediately, seeing naked distress in your mother’s face when she’s normally so good at staying neutral. “I meant…without my Secret Service detail. Give Agent Bailey and Agent Sisson a few weeks off while we go overseas. Marcus is very well trained and definitely enough to keep just two of us safe.”
Her expression eases slightly, relieved that’s not what you are talking about and she nods. “I think that will be entirely appropriate.”
“I’m optimistic that we can make sure this works for everyone.” Sitting in your seat in the family dining room, you lean back with a little extra confidence — bolstered by the fact that you know Marcus is with you every step of the way, just like your family. “Make this happy, and exciting, and something to look forward to.”
“Whatever you want.” Your mother agrees. “Whenever you want.” She adds. “I don’t want you pushing up plans for us, sweetheart.”
“We said we wanted to get started on the house before we get engaged,” you tell your mother, though you have to appreciate her insistence here. Plenty of other parents would hack the timeline if they were in her shoes. “So it will depend on how quickly we start in on those plans.”
“And Marcus wants to stay at the inn while you build?” She asks, lifting a brow in surprise. While she has seen your little apartment and thinks that it’s darling, Sam had always insisted it was too small to share space for even more than a day.
“We talked it through and he feels like it’s more important for me to be close to the inn than for his commute to be shorter. He’s going to sublet his current place to a friend that wants to move up from Texas and then the friend can take over the lease when it comes up. We’ll have a little less space than we would if we stayed in his apartment, but we don’t mind close quarters.” A fact which you will not look bashful about right now…no not at all…
“That’s a very solid plan that you have laid out.” Annette compliments. “It seems like you and your soulmate have made a lot of plans.”
“Right now I’d call it our favorite hobby.” Second favorite, but you’re not talking about your sex life in front of your mother…
The president snorts and rolls her eyes as she reaches for another scoop of fruit. “Sure.”
“Anyway.” Forcibly getting the conversation back on track seems like a smart idea. “Annette is my point person, then?”
“Yes.” Your mother takes the hint with a small smile. “I reasoned you would be more comfortable with her than any of the new staff.”
“And I appreciate that.” You offer both your mother and Annette a grateful smile. “Especially since this is going to involve my soulmate, I’m very glad to have someone that I know and trust working with us.”
“I am eager to meet him.” She hadn’t been present at the state dinner, she had been sick, but from what she can tell she will like him.
“Why don’t you come by the inn and have dinner with us sometime in the next week or two?” You suggest, figuring that would be nicer than a formal sit up in an imposing setting. “Something casual for the first time you meet? So we can all relax a little.”
“That sounds perfect.” Annette knows the value of an informal meeting. It often creates a better mood for the entire interaction.
"Awesome." Having everything moving in a comfortable direction is as much as you could ask from this meeting, and it's nice to see your mother semi-relaxed at the start of a workday. "Well, I'm sure you have eighty-seven things to do today Mom, so I won't keep you."
She winces apologetically and looks at her watch. “I’m actually about three minutes late for a cabinet meeting.” She admits, standing up to move over and kiss your forehead again. “Are you and Marcus coming to dinner on Friday?”
"We'll be there with bells on," you promise her. "Go get to your meeting. I love you, and tell Dad I love him too."
“I will, sweetheart.” She promises. “Annette, I will see you later. Take your time finishing breakfast.”
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The unfortunate truth is that the dinner with Annette might be necessary sooner rather than later. Within a bare twenty-four hours of the White House Easter Egg Roll and the official photos that refer to Marcus Pike as your soulmate, the commentary on social media and in online tabloids begins.
Marcus frowns as he opens the new story. It’s not uncommon for articles to be inflammatory, he knows that from the state dinner, but this is all but calling you a cheating liar. “Fuck.” He growls, eyes narrowing on the wording from the ‘anonymous source’.
"What's wrong?" Your nose is stuck in the schedule for next week while dinner is in the oven and you sit with Marcus in the living room, but you glance up when he sounds unhappy.
Marcus sighs and turns his phone towards you so you can read the headline. “I hate to accuse anyone, but this fucking sounds like your favorite congressman ex.”
"Sounds more like your ex, if you ask me." Vanessa might look sweet and innocent, but she can be cutthroat and single-minded in her goals when she sets herself to it. Something she learned from her justice father. "Think they're getting their jollies going after us together?"
“Shit- you think?” He ended things on a good note with Vanessa. Actually, she broke up with him, why would she smear his name?
"I don't know what her motive would be besides trying to get under Sam, but I wouldn't be surprised by it." Leaning forward to read the beginning of the article on his phone, you still frown. "I knew somebody was going to try saying we cheated, but damn."
“We know the truth.” Marcus frowns as he rereads the article. “This seems to imply that we are lying about being soulmates.” He looks over to you with a small grin. “That’s proven easily enough.”
"Hmm." That does make you smile, and you look up at him from behind your laptop. "Are you thinking we should stage a little photo on my social media as a response?"
“Absolutely.” He’s not thrilled about the tattoo you both share, but it’s solid evidence of your connection. “Your reputation won’t even tarnish a little.”
"I'm sure I'll get some snide comments about the kind of tattoo we share, but that's on me." You shrug at the truth of it. "I definitely should have gotten it somewhere else."
He laughs and shrugs. “Doesn’t make a difference now.” He reminds you. “It’s on both of our skin, so it’s proof. You’ve had it for years and so have I. Should we post new pictures and old ones with the tattoos?”
"We can do a little album on my Instagram." The suggestion is a welcome one, but it does mean you push your laptop away and set it on the coffee table to snuggle a little closer to him. "You have old photos with the tattoo in them?"
“I do.” Marcus chuckles. “But….” He shrugs. “They were taken by my ex-wife. She’s not in them.” He assures you.
“That’s fine.” Frankly, if Lara gets involved in the conversation it will just reinforce the fact that Marcus has had your marks for a very long time. “I can bribe Agent Sisson to be our photographer for a photo that has both of us in it.”
“And how do we want to casually set up pictures of our lower backs?” He asks with a grin.
“There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing.” You tuck yourself into his side and grin. “This is answering a call out.”
“To address any unfounded and untrue rumors….” He captions with a snort. “Straightforward. I like it.”
"If we wanted to do this casually, I would just say we should go take some pool pictures." You glance up at him, seeing what he thinks of that. "Violating my mom's no bikini rule for a good cause."
“I like bikini’s.” He agrees immediately, his eyes darkening slightly with lust.
"Oh yeah?" The smirk on your face is nearly instant. "Like we should take a tropical vacation level of like?"
“Like you need to book one immediately.” He huffs. “Texas didn’t count as a vacation.”
"Of course it did!" The fact that he's getting all bent out of shape imagining you in a bikini when he sees you naked on a daily basis is adorably, quite frankly. "And you can't even claim it wasn't sexy. We nearly broke that bed."
“Of course we did.” He laughs. “It’s old and we are horny.” He teases, biting his lip as he pulls you close. “But in a bikini, it’s so much less clothing to take off you.”
"You wouldn't even have to take it off." He's getting ideas and you turn your face up to smirk at him, fully encouraging those ideas to take form. "Just shove it aside. Nothing else needed."
“Fuck.” He hisses, clenching his jaw and imagining fucking you on a beach somewhere.
"Gonna keep that imagine in the spank bank, babe?" You can't help but tease him a little, knowing that you would be reacting exactly the same way if it was Marcus teasing you. But you started it this time so you get to tease.
“Fuck yes, I am.” He snorts. “We would get arrested. But it would be worth it.”
"There's a private beach where we could get away with it somewhere." Leaning up to press a kiss to Marcus's cheek, you're still grinning. "Good to know it's on the fantasy list, though."
“Very high up there.” Marcus admits with no shame. Just the freedom to explore these ideas with you is amazing, even if they are never acted on.
"I think..." The only thing that keeps you from shifting into his lap is the kitchen timer going off from the oven. Instead of climbing on to him you just climb off the couch to get to the baked pasta you put together right before Marcus got home from work. "That maybe we should do half the honeymoon in Paris and the other half on the Riviera? Get some swimsuit time in?"
“I like the way you think.” Marcus chuckles quietly, nodding. “How long are we talking? A few days in each place? A week?”
"A week each?" You pull him up from the couch to come to the kitchen with you. There's still a table to set and wine to pour, and all that good stuff. "Two weeks in France sounds like magic."
“I agree.” He grins and grabs the bottle of wine you had set out. It’s become a routine to have a glass with dinner and he enjoys the selection the inn has, although it annoys you that he insists on paying you for the wine.
"A big, beautiful wedding. Two weeks in Paris. A lovely house for us to move into." Every time you think through the plans you're starting to make for the future, they sound better and better.
“That sounds perfect to me.” Marcus admits, smiling softly at the idea. “Have you thought about the style ideas I sent you?”
"I was showing your Pinterest board to Syd on our lunch today." The collection of Dutch Colonial, Queen Anne, Georgian, and Federal style houses that Marcus had put together to share with you is full of so many ideas that you had lost track of time in the kitchen and was almost late to interview a new member of the housekeeping staff. "She likes the Queen Anne style Victorians, of course."
“Of course she does.” Marcus grins as he lifts a brow. “Which one of those were you most interested in?” He doesn’t really mind what architectural style your home is in, as long as you are happy with the result.
Having decided that the edge of the property where you planned to build was far enough from the inn and her out buildings that you didn’t need to be loyal to the colonial structures, you have a little more freedom to choose what you build. “I think I like the Georgian houses you sent me best,” you tell him, setting down two plates of baked pasta in the table at your customary seats. “It complements the colonial style without being obsessive about matching, and it’s not overly complicated.”
“That’s a good choice, and it still fits with the overall theme of the property.” Marcus agrees. “However…one thing I think is a must in our new house.”
“What’s that?” The two of you settle down and pick up your forks, comfortable in the relative quiet of the apartment while Agent Bailey takes one of her occasional walks around the grounds.
“We have to have an elevator in our house.” He’s gotten used to the elevator at the inn and can’t imagine living without one now.
“Non-negotiable?” You tease, knowing that on the nights he goes to the gym after work he groans his way into the apartment on principle. “Noted. You will have your elevator.”
“Thank God.” He dramatically moans and tosses his head back. “Getting older sucks. You’ll see.” He teases about the age gap, but it’s only seven years. “Heartburn is about to start.”
“I was more thinking of our kids,” you admit quietly, poking your fork into a big bite of sausage and zucchini and pasta together. “What if one of them needs the house to be accessible?”
“That thought had crossed my mind.” Marcus agrees. “But we will pray that all our children will be healthy, prepare in case they are not.”
“No matter what, they’ll be cared for and loved.” That, at least, you can both guarantee.
“Plus it will be easier when someone undoubtably breaks a leg.” Marcus snorts, laughing slightly. “It seemed like it was a contest in my family who would break a bone first every year.”
“Kids are gonna be clumsy,” you joke, pointing your fork at him in teasing accusation. “Got it.”
“But they will make up for it with good looks and charm.” He grins back at you and winks.
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First Princess Cheating Scandal is the headline splashed across the tabloid on the magazine rack, and your hand twitches before reaching for it. This is the bullshit you absolutely hate about being in the public eye, and now that they’ve started coming for Marcus you hate it even more. The article inside claims that you faked your matching marks — including your scars, which is possible but extremely far fetched — and that you’ve been sleeping together since at least the night of the State dinner.
With another one of those dinners on the horizon and the weariness in your bones over now spending multiple weeks of time on this stupid non-issue, you pay for the magazine and continue on to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building with it shoved in your purse. Agent Bailey’s advice had been to let it roll off your shoulders because people are always going to gossip, but as much as you’d like to do that it’s possible this might affect your mother’s image. Or your business. Your previously fully booked inn has had multiple cancelled reservations since this whole thing started.
So you walk on, with the little treats you made in a container in your purse and Marcus’s favorite midafternoon coffee order from the shop around the corner to surprise him at the office.
Marcus is pouring over a case when you knock on his office door. He doesn’t keep it closed, preferring to let his team come to him whenever. To feel like they can. Looking up, he sees you and immediately smiles. “Birdie.” He almost said Princess, but since the beginning of this entire ‘scandal’ non-scandal thing, it’s kind of soured the nickname. Immediately abandoning the file, he stands up and rushes around to give you a kiss. “This is a welcomed surprise.”
“I did a little baking with Syd this afternoon and the results were so good that I couldn’t wait to share.” The kiss is a comforting balm, even if it’s short, and you hold up the cup in your left hand. “And I brought your coffee.”
He groans in appreciation, of both the baked goods and the caffeine. “I was just about to get another cup from the break room, but this is better. His hand slides around your back and he rubs it soothingly, seeing the pinch of upset around your eyes but he wants you to talk to him naturally. “Want to come inside? Share it with me?”
You nod and step inside, your own cup from the coffeeshop clutched in your other hand. It’s herbal tea, though. Caffeine didn’t seem like a good idea when you’re already anxious. “Agent Bailey is in the bullpen, I hope you don’t mind.” Now that you’re in a relationship with a well-trained and fully competent federal agent, your Secret Service detail tends to be a bit more relaxed about giving you space.
“Not at all.” Marcus insists, guiding you over to the little couch in his office. “Rodriguez will show her where the donuts are.” He snickers.
“So…” he sits down beside you and you pull a small container of Madeleines out of your oversized purse to offer to him, but the magazine is sitting just underneath and it makes your eyebrows pinch together all over again. “We walked past a news stand on the way here and…saw a new headline.”
“Oh no.” Marcus sighs, he takes the container but sets them aside to give you his full attention. “Bad?”
“Not great.” With a resigned sigh, you pull the magazine out of your bag and hand it over for Marcus to inspect. Under the headline is the now-famous shot of the two of you dancing together and the article inside includes a paparazzi shot of the two of you grocery shopping alongside one torn from your social media of a date night.
He winces at the headline and huffs, opens it, flipping to the article and skimming it. “I want to really get this ‘anonymous source’ into a fucking interrogation room.” He growls, growing more and more upset at the outright lies that are being insinuated. “But it’s fucking hard to be sleeping with you when security from Vanessa’s building has me showing up on a timestamped tape.”
“Agent Bailey was less than thrilled with the accusation that she would lie about anything out of loyalty. You might have to fight her for that interrogation.” Shaking your head as he puts down the magazine, you’re craving his warmth and security enough that you lean in on the couch beside him. “I had an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” you admit quietly.
“What is it?” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, wanting to protect you from all this. He feels guilty, like you would be better off if your connection hadn’t been acted on.
“It’s….a little dramatic.” You can admit that, too. Although at this point you feel like a dramatic response isn’t uncalled for.
It might be necessary, in Marcus’s opinion. He nods and hums while waiting for you to continue.
“How would you feel about having another tattoo?” The question is posed carefully, quietly, but you had been considering it all the way over and bandied it back and forth with Agent Bailey during your walk. While extreme, it would certainly put all doubts to rest to share a video of you getting a new tattoo and having it appear just seconds after being finished, fully formed on Marcus’s skin.
“No gang or face tattoos.” Marcus jokes, shrugging slightly. “I’ve got no problem if you want to get a tattoo, sweetheart.” He decides. “But I don’t want you to do that simply to prove that we are soulmates. We don’t owe anyone anything.”
“I know it’s not owed.” That thought had never even crossed your mind, actually. “But I want this put to rest and something small that we decide on together would be a nice mark to share under almost any circumstance.” Shrugging a little, you take a sip of your tea and sit back. “It’s just a thought. Obviously I’m not going to just go off and do this on my own. That’s the opposite of the point of it.”
“No, I’m not opposed to it.” Marcus protests softly. “I just want to make sure it’s not from a place of insecurity.”
“Even if we weren’t soulmates, I would think it was sweet to have matching tattoos,” you tell him honestly, savoring the quiet comfort of the moment when your mind was chaotic just a half hour ago.
“What kind are you thinking of?” He asks softly, smiling as you lean against him. He enjoys the warmth of moment. The quiet comfort of you with him.
“I haven’t come up with anything brilliant.” Or even anything original. You had mostly been waiting to talk to him about it. “But something small, that’s reasonably discreet? Behind the ear or on the ankle or something like that? Even the wrist, so you could cover it with your watch when you want. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
“What about a little flower?” Marcus offers. “Behind the ear. I can cover that with my hair if I need to, and it can be your favorite bloom.”
“That sounds completely adorable.” The smile you have for him is beaming, feeling the way your heart bursts at his absolute acceptance and support. The love that radiates off him even in something as simple as knowing how much you love flowers.
“I thought you would like that.” He admits, tapping just behind your ear. “And you are so sensitive when I kiss right here. Especially when I’m inside you.”
“That’s mostly because you’re inside me.” Even though your cheeks burn with it and you slide down a little against his side, you’re still beaming at him. “If we’re going for things that enhance sensitivity then maybe I’ll have to look into piercings,” you tease.
“Don’t tease.” He pouts, twitching under the proper suit. “I can’t think about those kinds of things and be expected to work.”
“Oh, would you like if I had secret piercings?” You raise one eyebrow in interest, surprised to hear such an enthusiastic response to the passing idea.
“Piercings are hot.” Marcus would never deny that. “If you wanted to get some, I would support you completely. Enthusiastically.” He teases with a grin.
You hum at him, intrigued enough by the thought to actually heavily consider it, just imagining his face seeing them and how eager he would be to play with them. “That would be a very personal gift for my soulmate.”
Yes it would be. Marcus hums, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. “Personal is good.” He agrees, “but don’t feel like that’s something I have to have. If you want it, that’s one thing.”
"It's something to think about." It's no secret to him that you like things that mark you as his – your soulmate marks, of course, but your promise ring and occasionally wearing a piece of his clothing as well. Piercings might be something only he would see, but that just makes it all the more meaningful.
“Hmmmmmm.” He chuckles and nods his head. “It is. But I don’t think you came all the way down here to just fill my head with dirty thoughts.”
"I came down to surprise you with coffee and tell you that I love you." When he cocks his head slightly, you end up grinning. "I might have a little date night planned for you tonight. The caffeine has ulterior motives."
"Oh really?" He perks up, smiling slightly as he looks over at you in utter surprise. "So I need to make sure I'm home on time tonight?"
"Actually?" His delight is gratifying, and you squeeze his arm gently at your waist. "I'm taking you right from here. Our night is in the city."
"Kidnapping me, hmmm?" He grins widens and he bites his lip. "What does Agent Bailey think of such activities?"
"Oh, she helped me plan it." And she seemed to have fun with it, too, which made the little diversion even better. "Even made our dinner reservation for us."
"Wow." Marcus makes an impressed face. "That was a plot twist I didn't expect." he laughs. "Am I allowed to know any details or just show up and look pretty?"
"Just be your handsome self when I come back at five to pick you up." You stretch up to kiss his cheek, glad that he seems to be looking forward to tonight and hadn't been looking forward to just going home. "I'm going to scoot home, finish some paperwork, and get all dolled up for you."
"Bring me back an outfit?" Marcus asks, turning pleading eyes on you. "It can be another suit, I just want to freshen up too. Look my best."
"I'll bring something devastating but understated." That isn't hard considering Marcus's wardrobe is extremely well curated, but you still like to pay him the compliment as you pull yourself back to standing. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, babe."
He can’t help but grin a little more, your compliment making his shoulders lift confidently. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours in the office where there’s privacy, although he will walk you to the elevator.
"I love you." That is for the privacy of his office too, but only because it comes with such a doe-eyed look from you that it's nearly obscene.
“I love you too, Hummingbird.” He promises, the same sappy look in his eyes as he turns to guide you out of the office. His hand rests on your lower back, over the tattoo.
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Unfortunately, no date night photos or other positive presence on your social media is enough to combat the now growing accusation and rumors surrounding your soulmate status. It's only two weeks after first presenting the idea to Marcus that you're both sitting in a tattoo studio with the artist that did a beautiful flower tattoo for Sydney's sister AnnaLeigh.
Marcus had asked Juan to come and film the entire thing, so it couldn’t be said that it was spliced together. Although he was sure that comment was coming. Some people couldn’t be pleased no matter what, they didn’t want to believe there was an innocent reason for them being together.
The simple design would not take long to ink into your skin, and the artist helped Juan set up two chairs so that both you and Marcus could be in the shot to capture the instant the finished tattoo appears on Marcus’s skin. The entire video would be shared on your social media, audio included, so you had had to work up the nerve to even just chat with Marcus on camera. Sharing another mark with him isn’t stressful at all, it’s letting the public so deeply into your personal life that is.
“I like the design.” Marcus sits down on the other side of you and takes your hand. “You should have let me do the tattoo this time.” He jokes. “I don’t know what it feels like.”
“We can switch if you want to?” You’re nervous, and he knows it. Not for getting the tattoo, but from everything that has been going on.
“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Whatever you want to do.” Marcus wouldn’t take this experience from you if you want it.
“It’s small,” the artist assures you, seeing anxiety in her clients. “And behind the ear doesn’t hurt very much for most people. I had one woman nearly fall asleep on the table because she liked the humming and the soft vibrations.”
Marcus can handle a little bit of pain. You know that. A tattoo is nothing compared to broken limbs or the incident when he was undercover and was shot — which had sent you in a flurry of cooing and coddling for about three days when he first told you about it. Tattooing is the kind of pain that some people find pleasurable, so you squeeze his hand and nod. “Why don’t you give it a shot? You might decide you like it and we’ll end up here all over again.”
“Is that alright with you?” Marcus asks the tattoo artist, knowing they might not appreciate a change of clientele.
“Fine with me.” She nods as she sets up her tray. “I have both of your information on file and believe it or not this happens a lot. Soulmates come in with a design they’ve chosen but they’ll change their mind at the last minute about which one of them will actually being sitting for it.”
Marcus chuckles and turns you both so he can sit down in the chair. “We’ll both be wearing it anyway.” He agrees. “So I don’t mind experiencing it.”
“I’ve never been shot but I guarantee it hurts less.” You move to let him sit in the artist’s chair and situate yourself by his side.
Marcus chuckles as the tattoo artists eyes widen. “I’m a federal agent.” He explains quietly. “It was just a flesh wound, but she thinks it’s impressive.”
“It is impressive!” And you’re just going to keep telling him so over and over until he caves, but right now you just throw a pout at him to make him laugh.
Marcus gives you the laugh and turns his head to the side, staring at you. “Still not as impressive as you are beautiful.” He murmurs softly, although the video picks it up.
“I love you, too.” The bashfulness in it is only because you weren’t expecting that kind of compliment right now — as the artist about to permanently ink Marcus’s skin is making sure she has everything she needs on her tray. You lean into his side and tip back your head, nothing but pure love in your eyes right before they slip shut at the brief press of your lips to his.
Marcus hums, an automatic sound that comes out of him when you kiss him. Excited that you are as free with your kisses as he is, it’s liberating to indulge whenever the urge strikes you. When you pull back, he grins. “Now I’m ready.”
"Go ahead and lean forward." Sitting down on her stool, the artist beckons Juan over with the camera for the best angle to watch the action and still have you in the shot. "And here goes nothing."
The first touch of the needle nearly makes Marcus jump. He barely resists the urge and then laughs quietly, trying not to move too much. “This is kind of ticklish.” He admits.
"Then it already hurts less than the one I got," you tease, glad that the experience isn't painful for him. Watching him giggle about it and knowing it's being filmed is downright endearing.
“I’m sorry.” Marcus apologizes, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. “I wish your experience was better.” He snorts after he says it. “Maybe not, or I might be covered in ink.”
"It wasn't bad, but it was definitely more than a tickle." The grin you shoot him, though, is knowing. "If you end up liking this so much tonight, we might be covered in ink because of you instead."
“Only areas that can be respectfully covered.” He teases you, sending you a wink as the artist continues to carefully work behind his ear.
"Sounds like a plan," you toss him a smirk in return and the set of you grow quiet after another round of low laughter, so the only sound in the room becomes the resilient buzz of the artist's needle.
Marcus could probably fall asleep if the noise didn’t vibrate in his head. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. “After this, we will have to go get that cream to keep it clean.”
"We can get a Tattoo Goo kit before we leave the shop." His hand is in yours and you squeeze it reassuringly. "It's going to be tender for a bit, but it won't take too long to heal."
“I’m sure you will be completely cuddly as I heal.” He snickers quietly.
"I think having a cuddly girlfriend is mandatory for the healing process," you tell him seriously. At this point you've completely forgotten Juan is here for any other reason besides moral support. Forgotten about the phone in his hands being a camera and the fact that this video will become public for the world to see. This is just a moment between you and your soulmate. And a sweet one, at that.
“You should have seen me when the scar from your appendix showed up.” He snorts. “I was upset that my soulmate was hurt.”
“We were kids.” Sure he’s older than you, but you were so young when you had appendicitis. “Did it really worry you that much?”
“Yeah.” Marcus admits, not ashamed of that in the least. “Not knowing what happened, I kept imagining horrible things. Waited for other scars to possibly show up for at least a week.”
“If you had scarred from your broken leg or when you hurt your shoulder, I probably would have felt the same way.” It’s less of an admission from you and more of a confirmation, telling him in no uncertain terms how much you have always cared about his well-being. “Which is still your gunshot wound is such a big deal.” One of your fingers digs into his arm playfully. “That scared the crap out of me.”
“Well, now if I get shot, you can baby me right away.” He teases. “And tell the plastic surgeon to make the scar invisible.”
"I don't mind wearing your scars." The thought comes out quieter than you mean for it to, holding Marcus's hand tightly in yours. "I'm proud of you. And proud to wear your marks, no matter how many of them there are."
“Hopefully not too many more.” He hopes, smiling at you. “But I’m proud to wear your marks too, Hummingbird.”
The session doesn’t last too much longer. Marcus has a high pain tolerance but the tattoo mainly just tickles him, making him grin and laugh as he chats with you and with the artist for the last few minutes. When she pronounces him done and stands back, there is a moment of silence before the permanence of the piece takes hold on him and transfers instantly to your skin.
A sharp intake of breath at the momentary pain is how you know it has happened, and you glance over at Marcus — and Juan with your phone — just absolutely beaming with happiness. “Does it look as good on me as it does on him?”
Marcus inspects the area, forgetting the camera is even on and recording. He leans in and presses a kiss to the tattoo. “It looks even better, Princess.” He promises with a smile.
______
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aurae-rori · 2 days
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DR RATIO ANALYSIS PT 3 BUT IT'S JUST GAY
Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, you've done part one, and part two, so why do we need a part three?" The answer is because of two things - one. I made a deal with the Tumblr Peoples that if one of my posts hit more than 50 likes I would do this analysis. Two. Mihoyo is making this shit canon. I CAN'T MAKE THIS UP. So, let's delve into my usual disclaimer, as we might have some new people joining us for the first time with my insanity.
I have been researching psychology personally for about six years, so although I am not a professional (crawling my way there through the education system. I will be one, one day.) I do have some experience with analyzing homosexuals. Psychology hours, my children. They don't call me "chronically cooking" for nothing. Maybe I should change my url to that...
NOW THAT MY LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, LET'S GET INTO THIS! It's time to deconstruct these homosexuals like a modern airplane, because they might as well be taking off with how canon they are.
"It can't be canon," they say, but then Mihoyo DOES PAID SPONSORSHIPS WITH THESE FUCKERS BEING GAY. We've all seen the paid partnership edit. We've all seen the video where Aventurine has the audio of "nice rack" as he talks to Dr. Ratio. PAID SPONSORSHIPS. Now, if that piece of evidence isn't enough for you - let's dive into their actual relationship, which is just a HOMOSEXUAL MESS. I will be focusing more on how Dr. Ratio sees this guy as this is a Dr. Ratio analysis™, but hey, the crumbs.. we eat 'em all. Amen.
Let's start off (I say as I write this part three days later) about how people are like, 'Aven is Ratio's favourite idiot' WRONG. Ratio does NOT consider Aventurine to be an idiot and knows that he is smart and capable in his own right. While Ratio is book smart, Aven is extremely street smart and holds his own very well. Ratio does not consider Aventurine to be an idiot as he takes off his plaster head around him and actually indulges in his whims around him. This is a blatant showcase of fondness because although he is emotionally constipated and can't be affectionate through words without sounding semi-backhanded because he's never had true affection in his life, he showcases his love through actions rather than words. He's just bad at showing love, okay? But he does love Aven. Or like him, to some extent, if you don't want to see them as romantic, which is fine. However, no matter what you label their bond as, it's obvious that they care for one another.
Also, the fucking ZEST FEST that was 'keeping up with Star Rail'. He says, "wait a minute - MUTUAL?" which indicates that he has respect for Aventurine in the first place. He LITERALLY TOLD US that he respects Aventurine and he was commenting on Aventurine's playstyle & everything.. also, at the end, he was here because 'I appreciate this show's dedication to knowledge' - his TONE. Kudos to the VA because that was not convincing at all. Bro was NOT here for the knowledge, bro was here to be GAY!!! Also his little own bathtub couch. We all know Aven bought it for him. Trust, I am John Hoyoverse.
"The Charming Audacity" HUH? BRO? Okay this is hilarious to me because this is the first time that we ever really see them interact with one another, and we get absolutely bitchslapped in the fact that Dr. Ratio calls this guy's audacity 'charming'. That's GAY. That's HOMOSEXUAL.
Also, comparing him to a peacock.. a very beautiful bird.... Must I say more?
Now, the part that I really want to focus on is the part where he gives the Doctor's Note to Aventurine. This shit is important. And I agree with the people who are like - Acheron helped him. Because she did. She was a big part of it and she helped Aventurine get back on his feet in the void. Dr. Ratio is not his only reason to live, but the note, showing that someone will stay by his side? Showing that someone truly cares for him? Someone who's waiting for him when he get back? This bond that he has with Dr. Ratio isn't fake. He already has a starting point to get back to - an anchor to return to. Dr. Ratio is his anchor. Whenever he goes off to do crazy shit, Veritas Ratio will be there when he returns. Because Ratio is loyal. Ratio cares. He cared enough to almost jeopardize their plan to make sure that Aventurine was going to be okay. He cares so damn much about Aventurine that he decided that this man's emotional state after the fake betrayal was more important than all of fucking Penacony.
If you want an example of "I would let the world burn for you," it's Ratio. He's a romantic not in the traditional sense, but he cares and loves Aventurine so damn much it makes my heart hurt. "Do stay alive," he says, knowing that Aventurine struggles with living. Those three words mean the whole fucking world to someone who struggles with suicidal ideation and suicidal thoughts. Someone wants you to live. Someone wants you to stay. Someone wants you by their side.
Dr. Ratio cares. Let me say that again - he cares. He banters with Aventurine, tries to create an environment where Aventurine can feel a little bit more comfortable with the two of them, even in a place as dangerous as Penacony. He will put his own life on the line for Aventurine.
He cares. He cares so damn much. I hate gay people. They make me VIOLENTLY homophobic.
Dr. Ratio after expressing his care indirectly and complimenting Aventurine indirectly: Did I do it?
Aventurine, who has caught none of the hints:
Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
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pomefioredove · 2 days
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Heyyy! Can u do Jamil, riddle & whoever else you choose X party girl!reader? Someone who loves music, dancing, clubs and stuff like that? They might still be a good student or it might affect their studies, you choose. Thank youuu (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~
anyone else I choose you say?? ooh
summary: reacting to an extroverted party-prone reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, jamil, idia additional info: platonic or romantic, pretty short, reader is not specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral (using "party girl" as a loose term)
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Riddle Rosehearts
honestly?
doesn't matter if your grades are affected or not
he is NOT a fan
Riddle has spent his whole life devoting all of his free time to his studies
(whether he wanted to or not)
seeing you squander yours on things he finds useless and irritating is a little frustrating for him
what, are the unbirthday parties not good enough for you?
he would scoff at the very thought
a dark room full of sweaty strangers and deafening music is hardly a party to him
(it doesn't match the rulebook criteria, anyway)
it's a high point of conflict between the both of you for the longest time
but maybe... just maybe
if you're able to impress him with your grades
even with all the time you spend out
he'll come around to accepting the idea
don't try to take him out with you, though
he takes curfew very seriously
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Jamil Viper
he's maybe
a little
tiny bit
jealous
not that he'd ever admit that...
even with all the parties Kalim both throws and attends
hearing you going out on your own and enjoying yourself with no sense of duty is frustrating, to say the least
why do you get to shirk all responsibility and run wild?
listening to you describe your escapades in clubbing and partying just makes him turn up his nose at you
at first he just says it's immature and irresponsible
think of your studies!
think of your grades!
think of all those who rely on you!
and then it just becomes overwhelmingly apparent that he wishes he had that same sense of freedom, too
(as good as he is at concealing his true motives, you can just tell)
if you catch on and ask him to go out with you, he'll say no
obviously. he has things to do.
but maybe... if you're able to steal him away for an evening and throw him a little event of his own
he'll relax a little
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Idia Shroud
number one he's scared of you
number two he's scared of you
a super extroverted party person getting near him is like a boss battle
in the virtual world he could take it on no problem
but this is real life
so he just freezes up and tries to hide behind the nearest piece of furniture every time you're in the room
you'll never convince him to go out with you
that's just a given
but maybe once he gets a little less intimidated by you, he'll throw a party for you
in his own way
(he programs it)
in all honesty, it is pretty neat
even if you're technically the only people there and everyone else is just CGI rendering and it's on a computer screen
but, hey, he remembered all your favorite music!
congratulations on bringing him out of his shell
kinda
while this is a small victory for him, it's a victory nonetheless
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barbwritesstuff · 2 days
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A copy/paste of a post I made on the CS forum in regards to Thicker Than:
-------------
I’m just popping back to post a quick update about my plan/process going forward.
My current plan is to continue drafting this story as it is. Once I have first draft, then I’ll go back and fix some of the issues that have been brought up here.
Top of the list:
*Fix confusing navigation in chapters 3-4.
*Add more opportunities to interact with allies in non romantic contexts. (Perhaps in groups so people don’t worry about losing romance routes but can still spend time and get to know various characters).
*Add more choice and variation to the trial scene (plus a potential aquital for vampires loyal to the Night Court).
I hope that’s okay. I think it’ll be easier to edit once I have the whole thing more or less together. That way I’m not going back and forth quite as much and it’ll be easier to know exactly where any jumps/skips need to go.
The latter half of Chapter Ten is very romance focused. Chapter Eleven is going to be very big and busy (depending on the playthrough) and I may end up splitting it into two, but I’m not sure yet. The game is already starting to fork towards the various endings (of which there will be five with variations in each). Some will be more involved than others, but I want to try and make them all rewarding in their own way.
I know it feels like choices that were made in part two are a little redundant, but I’m hoping later chapters might change some minds.
The tribute choice is still one of the biggest in the game (and whether or not it was actually paid) and the outcomes and consequences of that will start to come out more soon.
Not all consequences will be good. Again, I hope that’s okay.
I’m also hoping it’s not too frustrating waiting a little longer for the above mentioned fixes.
Thank you everyone for your honest feedback. This game is much more complicated than my last and it’s been a steep learning curve all the way (I’m never doing timeskips ever again 😅). But, with your help, I’m hoping the final product will be a really fun. 💙
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purgemarchlockdown · 3 days
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Yoh know, I was planning on doing this at the end of the week. Just to really make sure the month long break was month long and to confirm I really did want to return, but damn the state of the tag in the last month or two is so sad and I have a hunch as to why.
So, hi again Milgramblr! I’m Nott! I’m an enjoyer of analysis and a believer that it’s a collaborative experience where people with various opinions and come together and discuss topics!
“Nott why are you saying this, statistically speaking, we already knew this about you?” Oh cause I experienced harrasement and outright got lied to multiple times lol.
I’m just saying it because I might as well, it’s pretty obvious something happened. I don’t like saying names publically, especially when I don’t plan on ever talking about this afterwards unless they engage which…well their blocked so I hope not. But I’m using this as a jumping off point for the actual topic of discussion.
Again, part of my enjoyment of analysis comes from collaboration, and as much as I love sending giant walls of texts to friends I enjoy seeing discussion from people I don’t know too well or maybe even not at all.
I think it’s important to create spaces in which analysis without fear of being executed in the middle of town square. It’s good to have more people working togehter in good faith to enjoy something, obviously, and the only real way of doing so is to…let people’s analysis be shared and discussed.
So! I’m turning my return post into a CALL FOR ANALYSIS YEAH! I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR A MONTH! TELL ME YOUR COOL OPINIONS EITHER HERE OR IN MY ASKBOX! I am holding my paws out like furry Oliver Twist going “Please, may I please have more analysis.” The intermission is the perfect time to discuss the information we have been provided!
On stuff I’ve been mulling over: I’ve been doing my usual narrative analysis and uh…attempting to write the monster theory analysis and then Not. Plus some other fun stuff you might see soon from me! Hope you enjoy what I got thought up!
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yesimwriting · 3 days
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we need more felix and lovie content i miss themmm
i miss them too,, i have so many drafts and half finished fics with them but i've had so little energy/time to actually finish any of them bc of finals
but i'm pretty caught up with school rn (by tuesday i'll be on summer break!!) so here's a bit of an i'm-sorry-for-being-absent drabble :)
The nail of your thumb drags against the edge of the page, finally getting the glue to fully adhere to the page.
You press your back against the wood surface of your desk chair to admire your handiwork. The background of your latest scrapbook page has come together just the way you wanted it to. You pick up the book carefully before turning your body.
"Lex," you beam.
Felix doesn't sit up fully, but he does lift his head. The arm holding up his copy of the latest Harry Potter relaxing. "Oh," he mumbles it in that way that reminds you of one of the things you like best about him. He has this talent for giving attention. Where other people would just be polite without a second thought, Felix takes the time to really look before commending.
He pushes himself up in a way that awkwardly squishes your pillow. "That's good." Felix straightens, legs crossing beneath him. "That's really good, Lovie." His thumb tucks itself between the pages of his book, a make shift bookmark. "The edges, the paper..."
"Thank you." Another thing you love about Felix is the fact that you can always tell he means his praise. You turn forward, setting your scrapbook back onto your desk. "You should make one."
The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a version of a smile that's so soft you almost miss it. "Yeah?" You nod. Felix's smile shifts into something more assured. "Maybe tomorrow night."
You try to picture Felix spending a Saturday night in either your room or his, cutting up scraps of paper and gluing them down instead of at a bar or some party. The thought makes your feel warm in that way that's so exclusively Felix. It also feels blurry, intangible in its unlikeliness.
As happy as it'd make you, tonight was already surprising enough. It's not like Felix goes out every night, and this isn't the first time the two of you have stayed in on a Friday, but nights like these are rare. You can't picture two of these in a row.
"Tomorrow?" You pull your legs out from under your desk, entire body angling itself to the side so that it's easier to look at him. "Tomorrow's Saturday."
He lets out a partial laugh. "And you're dying for a rager?"
"No," you mumble, dragging out the vowel sound in an attempt to sound more sarcastic. "But you like going out." You lean forward, resting your chin against the chair's back. "And it's not like I hate going out, especially with you..." You trail off, eyes shifting away from Felix and towards the bed post closest to you. "And I don't want to be the reason you don't do things you like."
For a beat, the only sound is the low, rhythmic tapping of Felix's pointer finger against the spine of his book. "I like a lot of things."
You lift your head. "I know."
"I like doing things with you."
The warmth comes back with a vengeance. You tap your thumb against the side of your seat for the sake of doing something. "Me too."
Felix shifts, extending one leg to make himself more comfortable. "Good." He's so quiet for a second, you almost think that might be the end of the conversation. You're about to go back to picking out the pictures to finish off the page you'd been working on when he starts again, "So you don't need to worry about me resenting you."
Your eyes narrow. "I didn't say anything about you resenting me." Your chin lifts slightly, an attempt at displaying your indignation. "Why are you saying it like that was an option?"
He grins, dropping himself back onto your pillow. "No reason."
You roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He's the one that came over to your room without being asked to. "Sure."
"What?" His tone implies nothing but perfect innocence. He picks up his book, opening it as if he's done nothing wrong. "Y'should come over here before the resentment sets in and I lose all interest."
You let out a loud sigh, but move to stand regardless. "Yeah, that feels like a real possibility."
When you don't move, Felix glances away from his book. "You're not gonna come over here?" He looks up at you, a hint of a pout playing at his expression. "I was kidding."
You cross your arms, fighting against a smile. "I just stood up." That's not enough to convince him to stop looking at you like that. You take a few steps forward with a sigh that's more out of habit than anything else. "You are so dramatic."
You sit on your bed, crossing your legs beneath you. Felix shifts onto his side. His freehand finds your knee. "You cried because of this book."
Eyes narrowing, you lean forward to get a better sense of how far into the book he's gotten. "Wait a few chapters."
Felix snaps his head in your direction, "Lovie. You said you wouldn't--" Your sentence runs into his, "I didn't--I didn't spoil it."
He frowns, watching you skeptically. "That was mean."
"You started it." You're aware that you sound like a little kid, but you can't help it. With a sigh, you give up, laying down. He's taking up most of your bed, but you're far from uncomfortable. "Fine. I'm sorry."
With little warning, Felix leans forward and presses a kiss against your temple. "Want me to read to you?"
You're used to Felix's random displays of affection, but every once in awhile something will take you by so much surprise you feel it more than you should. You blink. "Yeah," you mumble, hoping that your voice comes out even, "Sounds nice."
Felix shifts onto his back, one hand finding your arm and the other holding his book.
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taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy
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aurumacadicus · 3 days
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i'm not sure if tumblr is lying to me or not about when you responded to my ask but i only just got the notification for it, so. if you're still doing the 1-161 stony ficlet challenge, can i request 123 if that one hasn't also been taken? ps i'm really loving the ones you've posted so far, they're great! <3
Thanks! It's been a lot of fun!
--
Steve grit his teeth as Tony carefully, casually prodded his thigh with the toe of his left foot again. They were fighting, and he couldn't tell if this was an olive branch or a deliberate attempt to make him lose his cool.
They didn't fight often. They argued a lot, of course. He and Tony both had very strong personalities, and they also had very strong opinions. More difficult still, Steve was from a different time, and while he'd made great strides in acclimating himself to the time (and while Tony had been very patient as he learned) some things he said and believed still had them butting heads sometimes.
Tony prodded his thigh again, and Steve sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He would not give Tony the satisfaction of reacting.
"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," Tony finally declared, prodding him again.
"We are fighting and I'm still mad at you," Steve answered curtly, looking back down at his book. He figured that was attention enough, with the mood he was in and their fight still hovering at the edges of their conversations.
The ball of Tony's foot stayed pressed to his thigh a moment longer before he slowly drew it back. "Oh. Sorry."
Steve slanted his gaze over at that, brows furrowing together at the tone of Tony's voice. It was the one he used when he knew he'd misstepped but didn't understand why. He looked genuinely upset before his emotional shutters came back down as he returned his gaze to his tablet. He pulled his feet in closer, tucking himself tighter into the corner of the couch.
Steve watched him, considering, then carefully asked, "We... are still fighting, aren't we?"
"Of course. Obviously," Tony scoffed, prodding at his screen a little harder than he usually might.
Steve waited a beat, but Tony didn't plow on like he usually did when he was angry. He'd had no problem shouting for hours yesterday, but Steve had no doubt he'd come up with new things to shout if he was still very upset. He cast around his mind for what Tony's sudden change in heart and remembered, frowning, that Colonel Rhodes had huffed out a frustrated, 'well, his parents never apologized to each other, at least not in front of him, so he thinks fights just stop eventually and you carry on as usual.'
Tony must have just been... ready for things to carry on as usual. Steve set his book in his lap and sighed again, tipping his head against the back of the couch. He'd been the second one to sit down on the couch. Tony must have thought that was an olive branch. And maybe it had been, he realized, turning to look at Tony again. Maybe, unconsciously, he'd been ready to end the fight, too. But not like Tony wanted, where they simply stopped talking about it and returned to life as normal.
"I'm sorry," Steve said, because he was. His ma always said it took two people to fight, after all.
Tony prodded at his tablet a couple more times, then turned his head a little, peering at him out of the corner of his eye. "...For what?" he finally asked, skeptical.
"For fighting," Steve answered simply. He'd learned early on that if he said too much, Tony would have more to read into.
Tony turned his head away, then looked back at him, eyes narrowed. "...I'm... sorry... too," he finally said, slowly, like he was waiting for Steve to spring some sort of trap after each word.
It hurt a little, Steve could admit to himself. But luckily, he'd learned that it wasn't his own shortcomings as a boyfriend that caused Tony to be suspicious of something he thought was a good thing; the lists of people who had hurt Tony in the past were all available online, after all. Not necessarily under that label, but Steve was pretty good at reading between the lines.
And it was a step in the right direction, Steve figured. Acknowledging their wrongs to each other was certainly better than just letting them go unsaid. They could have a discussion about it later, when the hurt wasn't so fresh and they had time to decompress.
Until then, Steve reached out to grab Tony's ankle and drag his leg back out, and Tony squawked as he was pulled across the cushions. "C'mere."
"Brute!" Tony howled, trying to claw his way back across the couch, but Steve's grip on his leg was immovable. "Stop fucking dragging me everywhere you want me, you neanderthal, I--"
"You what?" Steve asked, flipping him easily, and immediately dug his thumbs into Tony's arch, exactly where he knew Tony got sorest. Tony let out a moan, and Steve knew he had won, at least for the moment.
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Note
Hİİİİ YET ANOTHER ANON
Can I ask about Creepypasta ages headcanons in your main AU??
THANK YOU FROM NOW <333
HIIIIIIII NEW ANON, YOU'RE SO SWEET<3333
Okay thank you so much for asking, you guys are literally spoiling me, like I'm having a little heart attack whenever someone asks me something.
I don't want this post just be numbers so I'll give a random fact about main characters' most important birthday day and something about non-human characters, hope you don't mind. It's mostly angst and I'm so sorry about that.
YOU'RE WELCOME AND I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT<333
I know most of the ages sound ridiculous but it's really hard to attach them all together :(
Characters' Ages And Facts About Main Characters' Most Important Birthday
Au's ships: TicciWork, NinaKate, MaryJane and Bloody Angel(probably should've said this earlier)
Current year: 2014
Main characters
-Jeff The Killer: 20
Jeff got burned at the age of 15, at his most important birthday. His parents were seeing a therapist while Liu was still in prison, and his therapist made a suggestion to Jeff's parents to organize a birthday party for cheering Jeff up. Jeff can never forget the day he was burned alive because his whole life was shaped by it. That's why he hates his own birthday and attacks if anyone tries to celebrate besides Liu.
- Clockwork: 20
Clockwork's most important birthday is the 18th age. Because that was the first year she wasn't on her own. Jeff, Toby, Nina were close friends of Clockwork at the time and each had their own small-scale celebration. For the first time, Clockwork didn't hate her own birthday. That's how she got into the habit of celebrating other people's birthdays, if she felt good about something stupid like that, the people who cared about her might also deserve to feel good in a stupid way, or something like that.
- Hoodie: 25
According to Brian, the most important birthday is the one he celebrated at the age of 10. His family had taken him to see a theater as a gift, and little Brian was so impressed that he was literally obsessed with theater performances and musicals after that show. Even though 10-year-old Brian is the reason why he is where he is right now, Hoodie never blames him for following his dream.
- Masky: 26
His most important birthday is the 20th, when he started working under Slenderman's orders. The year he realized that his life would be like this and that he would have to spend more than he hoped in this job, that fighting would only cause him to die sooner. Obviously, he didn't care about himself, he'd rather die than live this way, but he didn't want to leave Brian alone.
- Ticci Toby: 19
15th birthday. The last year he celebrated with Lyra and his mother since he was a proxy at the age of 16, he celebrated rest of his birthdays as a proxy. Toby doesn't remember all of his memories, and although most of the time his memories are more like pieces, he knows that two women named Lyra and Connie are worth worlds to him. And every time the fragments of that birthday come in front of him, he feels nothing but happiness.
-Eyeless Jack: 21
↺Actually, if he was still alive, he would have been 34. Because he was 21 when he died during the ritual in 1980.
The most important birthday is the year he received the letter of admission to medical school at the age of 18. He had received this a letter a few days ago, and he and his family had thrown a big party to celebrate it. Although he spent his 19th birthday, his first year of studying med, with his family, the most important thing for him is his 18th age.
-Jane The Killer: 22
21, when Mary proposed to her on her birthday. Jane was in a very emotionally repressed state after all her trauma, and Mary could no longer control her feelings for her. While Jane and her lover Mary were sitting in a fashionable restaurant, Mary proposed to Jane. And when there was a lot of opposition because the age group was generally old due to the cost of the restaurant, Jane kissed her on the lips so as not to discourage Mary. The best birthday of her life.
-X-Virus: 17
7th age. That year, he had gone to the zoo on a school trip and celebrated his birthday with the animals there instead of people. This is the biggest proof that he prefer animals' existence to humans. Of course, he might have been happier if a monkey hadn't stolen his food, but little Cody wasn't mad at the monkey then. And when the monkey saw that Cody was upset later, he gave him some of his food anyway.
-Nina The Killer: 19
16th birthday. She and Jeff hadn't made up yet and it was a day when she was really hurt emotionally by him. Her close friend Kate, who saw this, tried to kill Jeff. Although Nina could hardly stop her, Kate was convinced later and they went to hang out at Kate's special place together. Kate was a really special friend to Nina, and she liked that she knew that Kate opened herself up so much. And when Kate dropped her home in the evening, she found Toby and Clockwork were clumsily trying to celebrate her birthday, she cried because of cuteness.
-Kate The Chaser: 20
The first year she spent with Nina as a lover, 20th age. They had become lovers a few months ago, and unlike other proxies, Kate did not remember anything about her past, so she had no memories to miss. Nina had known her since she found Jeff at the age of 15 and was after him. They became close friends when Kate was 17 and Nina was 16, and they started dating when Nina was 19 and Kate was 20. Their relationship began when Kate took pity on Nina and helped her, and Nina helped her during difficult times where Kate tried to expertize in proxy work. The year they became lovers, Nina organized a special day just for the two of them, knowing that she wouldn't want a big party, and Kate's favorite moment was when they watched the sunset with one head phone.
Main supporting characters
-Homicidal Liu: 18
-Sally: 13
↺If she was still alive, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1972.
-Ben Drowned: 12
↺If he had continued to live, he would have been 32 years old. He died in 1994.
- Puppeteer: 23
↺ If his heart was still beating, he would have been 37 years old. He died in 2000.
-Zero: 24
-Nurse Ann: 27
↺If her heart had been alive, she would have been 33 years old. She died in 2008.
-Bloody Painter: 17
-Judge Angels: 17
-Mary Vaughn: 22
Supporting characters
-Lulu: 16
-Laughing Jack: 214
↺He was produced in 1800.
-Nightmare Ally: 15
↺If she was still human, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1974.
- Kagekao: 29
↺If he was still a human, he would have been 34 years old. He died in 2009.
-Rouge: 32
-Jason The Toymaker: 134
↺He was produced in 1880.
-Laughing Jill: 114
↺She was produced in 1900.
Background characters
-Slenderman: 2500+(?)
↺It is not known exactly when he was born, some say that there are drawings of him even in ancient Egypt.
- Emra: 25
↺If she was still alive, she would have been 37 years old. She died in 2002.
-Dr. Smiley: 33
-Cat Hunter: 30
-Zalgo: ?
↺It is estimated that his existence endured back even before the earliest times of humanity.
-Weeping Forest: 16
↺If she had not undergone this change, she would have been 56 years old. She died in 1974.
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whipcracknumber5 · 2 days
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Ok walk with me on a “no but seriously imagine it” type rant
Ok so with the 🧡 from the wad post we are all collectively losing our minds right? Right. People are talking about the rest of the rainbow of hearts
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
We already have the red heart from Phil’s birthday post from 2023 ❤️
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Now one could say that the red heart is the more romantically used one, or you could say that it’s just basic use one. Who can say.
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Now with the release of WAD on YouTube we get the orange heart 🧡
I feel like this one is more special than the red heat tho, it’s more personalized. Orange is the color of his show and arguably his new branding.
Now this is where we start cooking! Those are the first two colors of the rainbow in order I might add we have Roygbiv your know her you love her
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
So what might we get with the rest of the rainbow what and when can we expect the yellow heart and so on. While I am a June/ October phedding truther I don’t believe we will get anything of the sorts this year, think of the length of time the two hearts are placed, Perhaps we get two more hearts this year.
We could get a yellow heart on dans birthday posted by Phil obvi maybe saying how he’s such a ray of sunshine /s
💛☀️🎂
And then the 10 year anniversary of dapg is coming up on September 12, I would imagine they do something for that let’s say they do a green heart for that one for the sims being one of their main series on the channel, plumbobs the symbol of the sims commonly being green.
💚
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That would continue the trend of the colors being in order. But what are the gaming channels main colors??? Purple and blue. As seen by the dapg icon and the border around the face cam in the videos.
💙💜
As much as I want to get a full set in order I think the blue and purple are more likely for the gaming channel then green.
So that leaves us with the green heart, who is associated with green? Who’s iconic bedspread and thus branding was blue and green for YEARS? Who dyed an insane about of things green when Dan was gone? That’s right everyone’s favorite princess Phil Lester!
And what would be the next signifcant date (excluding 10/19) up next? Phil’s birthday in January. Bringing us right back to the first post with the red heart, Phil’s birthday post. So I would say we could expect something big June 2025. Being pride month and the month they started talking they could pull something on us that would make us lose our minds entirely.
Anyway that’s my whole rant just on the fact that we got
🧡
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kakiastro · 1 day
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Marriage in Astrology
Because we all have manifested a marriage like there’s😅
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Hey y’all! I wanted to talk about this topic because this is a popular question in astrology. So I’m going to show you where in your chart that YOU can look for to help you get the answers.
See, a lot of people just look at one section when it’s a lot more complexed than that. There’s a lot of variables to look at. It’s like reading a story, the more chapters you read, the more you start understanding the book. It’s best too look at one placement at a time then look over your own life and start connecting the dots.
If you’re still confused after this post, schedule a reading, I’m doing them 25$ for my spring sale!
Venus + Libra + 7h
Venus rules over the partner + your idea of marriage. When I say the idea of marriage, I mean YOUR personal beliefs regarding it. Everyone has different points of view regarding marriage depending on cultural or religious beliefs. Keep in mind, marriage for the longest was seen as a business contract and still is in many cultures. What are the odds that Venus also rules over contracts 😅it’s all based on the type of partner you will attract or subconsciously attracted to.
Look at your Venus to see what kind of partner you’re attracted too.
Venus rules over the sign of Libra and rules the 7h. The 7h (area in life) can show you how you view marriage overall, not just your own but the people in your life. The ruler of your 7h can indicate how you’ll meet.
For example: Taurus 7h. You believe marriages should be grounded and stable, you might believe in a generational home that can be passed down, physical connection, listening, familial roots is strong. These people are not spontaneous, planning and taking their time. You may know lots of people with Taurus placements that talk a lot about marriage or they’re ideal of it. Ruler in the 11h. May meet their spouse randomly, when they’re pursuing their dreams or through mutual friends group
The 7h is ruled by Libra so look at the house Libra rules in your chart to see more details of the partner!
Pluto + Scorpio + 8h
It’s so wild that Pluto and Scorpio is not talked about enough when it literally rules what goes on inside the marriage. Venus + Libra rules over the idea and the partner we want but Pluto is the type of marriage you’re going to have. No one knows what goes on inside of anyone’s marriage regardless on what they publicly share to the public.
Pluto rules over intimacy and exchange. It also rules over shared resources. Shared resources isn’t always financials, it’s anything you share with someone. Marriage is a very private affair which Pluto rules over. Now Pluto is a generational planet so many people have you Pluto placement, however, the house it’s in can show you Your personal chapter and how it Pluto plays out for you. This is why everyone in your generation sort of have a similar theme with marriage but everyone has a different story. Everyone is sitting on the same bus but everyone is getting off at different stop. You feel me?
The 8h is ruled by Scorpio as well so this house where you really look and see the energy of the marriage of someone. You can get a glimpse of what kind of marriage you’re going to have. This house also rules over divorce as well while Venus rules over breaking of contracts. That’s what marriage is at the end of the day. You are committing and sign a legal document saying you will spend your life with this person.
The house Scorpio rules, is where you are really private so you may not feel comfortable with discussing your marriage at all.
For example:: if you have a Scorpio 4h, you’re family may not know nothing about your marriage but one or two things😅
Asteroid Juno
So asteroid Juno is connected to marriage and the marriage partner. I’ve been studying Juno for a while now and the more I research, I believe it shows how devoted we are to the marriage and to our partner. Juno rules over our devotion.
For example: Juno Aries. This person would fight for their partner and marriage if they genuinely believe in it. It can also manifest as easily giving up if the flame is completely burnt out . One thing for sure these people will bring the passion and fire to the marriage.
Keep in mind, these are just placements. This isn’t including the aspects to these placements which influence your chart as well.
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