#pike's pick and mix

[morallyinept]

PART 2

Thank you so much to everyone's positive response on this! 🥰 I'm so glad you all thought it was a good idea, and one that you want to get on board with. So many of you too, which is great! I've had to split it in two parts as there was so many of you!

Marcus and I are stoked! 🤗

Below, you'll find the pairings...

Now, the pairings have been done as randomly as possible. I tried to pair with things you might have in common initially, but some profiles are empty or don't have much to give away, so in the end all names were put into a hat and I pulled pairs, so it's as unbiased as possible.

☝🏻This isn't about popularity or numbers, this is about making a new friend in the fandom. If you've been paired with someone you're already speaking with/getting to know, that's great! Continue that friendship.

If you happen to be paired with someone who you've attempted to get to know before and it hasn't panned out so well, why not give it another try?

I can't re-pair you, I'm afraid as we had even numbers, so I apologise in advance if you end up with someone who you haven't gotten on well with before. (Hopefully, that's not the case.) But you are always free to reach out to me - I love making new friends too!

And please bear in mind, I've tried my best - I'm not responsible for what you guys do and how you interact with one another. Please ensure you're respectful and kind and treat others how you would want to be treated.

And if you need some pointers on starting the conversation, you could try these:

Remember why we're here - Pedro! Have a chat about your favourite roles he's played, or films. Which character of his is your favourite and why? When did you first discover him? Why do you like being a fan of his?

Are you a writer/reader/both? Perhaps you can talk about your favourite fics you've written/read? Again, why did you like them? Same goes if you're an artist or creator of any kind.

Saying a simple hello, how are you? Can lead onto great things. Don't be afraid to say hello and strike up a conversation.

You got any pointers, Marcus?

I mean sure, yeah. That's a great question... personally yes, I like butter with my popcorn. 🍿 Looks like we have something in common, bud!

It's up to you about how much you want to give away about yourself. Stick to your boundaries. Natural friendship will progress how it should - naturally. And those boundaries will become lowered in time. Don't force it, and please, be respectful of one another's boundaries.

If it fizzles out after a few messages exchanged, that's okay. Please don't take it personally. We all have lives off of Tumblr, and it might take some people longer to reply, or they may be really shy. Try not to bombard them with messages.

☝🏻Remember you will only get out of this what you are willing to put in. Please be kind and respectful to one another.

Okay, Marcus, let's get to the pairings...

PAIRINGS:

Anyone that re-blogged or commented on the original post has been included, even if you signal boosted, unless you specifically stated you didn't want to participate. Hopefully I've not missed anyone. Some of you I am not able to tag so I have linked to your profile for your friend to find you. Please reach out to them when you're ready:

@pedroshotwifey & @vabeachazn

@survivingandenduring & @elvinaa

@bluestar22x & @pedgito

@suzdin & @beskarandblasters

@ohforficsake & @hyzer34

@bbiophiliaa & @papipascaaaal

@tuquoquebrute & @pastelnap

@grace46 & @pedropascal-whore

@i-own-loki & @whiskeynwriting

@darkheartgatita & @covetyou

@codryshrekps & @sweetercalypso

@studioghibelli & @thatredheadwriter

@the-blind-assassin-12 & @rose-with-few-thorns

@kissedbydragonfire & @planet-marz1

@oursisastrangefate & @perfectly-imperfect-me23

@chibimosa & @flightlessangelwings

Good luck and have fun getting to know one another! Marcus and I would love to hear from you guys about your new friendships too, so please feel free to get in contact and let us know how it's going! 🖤

#pike's pick and mix #pedro pascal #marcus pike #making friends

[fixomnia-scribble]

WOW.

Scientists found an amazingly well-preserved village from 3,000 years ago

Text below, in case article access dries up:

LONDON — A half-eaten bowl of porridge complete with wooden spoon, communal rubbish bins, and a decorative necklace made with amber and glass beads are just a handful of the extraordinarily well-preserved remnants of a late Bronze Age hamlet unearthed in eastern England that’s been dubbed “Britain’s Pompeii” and a “time capsule” into village life almost 3,000 years ago.

The findings from the site, excavated in 2015 to 2016, are now the subject of two reports, complete with previously unseen photos, published this week by University of Cambridge archaeologists, who said they cast light onto the “cosy domesticity” of ancient settlement life.

“It might be the best prehistoric settlement that we’ve found in Britain,” Mark Knight, the excavation director and a co-author of the reports, said in an interviewThursday. “We took the roofs off and inside was pretty much the contents,” he said. “It’s so comprehensive and so coherent.”

The reason for the rare preservation: disaster.

The settlement, thought to have originally consisted of several large roundhouses made of wood and constructed on stilts above a slow-moving river, was engulfed by a fire less than a year after being built.

During the blaze, the buildings and much of their contents collapsed into a muddy river below that “cushioned the scorched remains where they fell,” the university said of the findings. This combination of charring from the fire and waterlogging led to “exceptional preservation,” the researchers found.

“Because of the nature of the settlement, that it was burned down and its abandonment unplanned, everything was captured,” Knight added.

“As we excavated it, there was that feeling that we were picking over someone else’s tragedy,” he said of the eerie site in the swampy fenland of East Anglia. “I don’t think we could smell the fire but the amount of ash around us — it felt close.”

Researchers said they eventually unearthed four large wooden roundhouses and an entranceway structure, but the original settlement was probably “twice as big.”

The site at Must Farm dates to about 850 B.C., eight centuries before Romans came to Britain. Archaeologists have been shocked at “just how clear the picture is” of late Bronze Age life based on the level of detail uncovered, Knight said.

The findings also showed that the communities lived “a way of life that was more sophisticated than we could have imagined,” Duncan Wilson, head of Historic England, the public body responsible for preserving England’s historic environment, said in a statement.

The findings unearthed include a stack of spears, possibly for hunting or defense; a decorative necklace “with beads from as far away as Denmark and Iran”; clothes of fine flax linen; and a female adult skull rendered smooth, “perhaps a memento of a lost loved one,” the research found.

The inhabitants’ diet was also rich and varied, including boar, pike and bream, along with wheat and barley.

A pottery bowl with the finger marks of its maker in the clay was also unearthed, researchers said, still containing its final meal — “a wheat-grain porridge mixed with animal fats” — with a wooden spatula resting inside the bowl.

“It appears the occupants saved their meat juices to use as toppings for porridge,” project archaeologist Chris Wakefield said in the university’s news release. “Chemical analyses of the bowls and jars showed traces of honey along with ruminant meats such as deer, suggesting these ingredients were combined to create a form of prehistoric honey-glazed venison,” he added.

Skulls of dogs — probably kept as pets and to help with hunting — were also uncovered, and the dogs’ fossilized feces showed they fed on scraps from their owners’ meals, the research found.

The buildings, some connected by walkways, may have had up to 60 people living there all together, Knight said, along with animals.

Although no intact sets of human remains were found at the site, indicating that the inhabitants probably fled the fire safely, several sheep bones were found burned indoors. “Skeletal remains showed the lambs were three to six months old, suggesting the settlement was destroyed sometime in late summer or early autumn,” according to the university’s news release.

Ceramic and wooden vessels including tiny cups, bowls and large storage jars were also found. Some pots were even designed to nest, stacked inside one another, Knight said — evidence of an interest in aesthetics as well as practicality.

A lot of similar items were found replicated in each home, Knight added, painting the picture of completely independent homesteads for each family unit rather than distinct buildings for shared tasks — much like we live today.

Household inventories often included metal tools, loom weights, sickles for crop harvesting, axes and even handheld razors for cutting hair.

The roundhouses — one of which had almost 50 square meters (nearly 540 square feet) of floor space — had hearths and insulated straw and clay roofs. Some featured activity zones for cooking, sleeping and working akin to modern-day rooms.

The Must Farm settlement has produced the largest collection of everyday Bronze Age artifacts ever discovered in the United Kingdom, according to Historic England, which partly funded the 1.1 million pound ($1.4 million) excavation project.

The public body labeled the site a “time capsule,” including almost 200 wooden artifacts, over 150 fiber and textile items, 128 pottery vessels and more than 90 pieces of metalwork. Some items will go on display at the nearby Peterborough Museum next month.

Archaeologists never found a “smoking gun” cause for the fire, Knight said. Instead, they suspect it was either an attack from “outside forces,” which may explain why the inhabitants never returned to collect their possessions from the debris, or an accidental blaze that spread rapidly across the tightly nestled homes.

“Probably all that was left was the people and what they were wearing; everything else was left behind,” Knight said of the fire.

But the preservation has left a window for people to look back through in the future. “You could almost see and smell their world,” he said.

“The only thing that was missing was the inhabitants,” Knight added. “And yet … I think they were there — you certainly got glimpses.”

#archaeology #bronze age #UK archaeology #excavations

[pedropascalsx]

Kinktober - Day Four: Overstimulation.

Marcus Pike x F! Reader.

Summary: You challenge Marcus… and Marcus doesn’t back down from a challenge.

Word Count: 750

A/N: I’m so sorry this is a day late. I was too tired to finish it last night. I’m a little unsure about this one… but i hope you like it 🫣

Prompt from @absurdthirst’s list 💖

Each swirl of his tongue is deliciously devastating, pleasure mixed with pain as your thighs shake harder than ever before, but he shows no signs of letting up.

One of his hands holds you open as he strokes his cock feverishly with the other, he’s lost count how many times you’ve screamed and cursed his name from the amount of orgasms he’s pulled from you tonight.

But he won’t stop, not until that word falls from your lips or he feels that you can’t take anymore.

Your clit still tingles from your last orgasm, and you can feel that telltale sign of another building in your core. With a whimper of his name he doubles down on his efforts, letting go of his cock and sliding two fingers inside of you with ease.

“Marcus,” you moan, and he feels a shiver rip through your body, and you swear you can hear his cocky grin. “Please.”

He begins pumping his fingers slowly, just teasing that spot inside of you, before ramping up the pace. Thrusting them in and out as you curse his name, your body writhing and thrashing around in the most delicious way as the coil inside of you snaps and you clamp down so hard around his fingers that it almost hurts.

“Good girl,” he coos, lips still brushing against your clit, before he pulls out his fingers and spreads your slick down his shaft.

**

Marcus Pike; gentleman in the streets… absolute freak in the sheets. You had bought this on yourself, when you challenged him, despite knowing one thing about Marcus Pike… he doesn’t back down from a challenge.

**

He gives himself a few more languid strokes, and you look at the ring firmly wrapped around his cock and balls prolonging your night of pleasure.

“I want to touch you,” you murmur, as you manage to push yourself up on your elbows and reach out and take him in your hand.

“You can,” he says with a smirk, before reaching across the bed and picking up your vibrating wand, “You can stroke my cock while I keep this pressed against that pretty little clit.”

He chuckles at your loud groan, before shrugging his shoulders, “Unless you’re admitting defeat, sweetheart?”

“Slowest setting,” you hiss back, despite the fact your clit is pulsating with overstimulation, and you’re not convinced that you can cum again.

“Don’t forget who’s in charge here.” Marcus reminds you with a waggle of his brows. You mumble a quiet ‘yes sir’, as you stroke him slowly, before he places the wand against your clit.

The hiss you make as it touches your swollen bundle of nerves makes him stop for a few seconds to study your face, and once he’s comfortable that you’re okay and ready to go again, he switches it on… on the highest setting.

“Fuck, Marcus,” you groan, as your fingers squeeze tightly around his length, making his hips stutter.

“You know the safeword,” he simply coos. His spare hand reaches down to caress your tit, rolling your nipple in between his fingers before lightly slapping it, just to see the shock on your face and hear you whimper his name.

His name gets caught in your throat though, as your hips try to chase and rock away from the wand all at once, your pleasure receptors needing more even as your brain tells them no.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marcus chants, as your hand slips from his cock and grips at the bed sheets beneath you, whimpering as another orgasm threatens to devastate and delight you.

He presses the wand just a little harder against your clit as your hips go into overdrive, rocking against the toy before you're completely awash with white hot pleasure and fireworks are exploding behind your pretty eyes.

“Marcus,” you plead, as he works you through your high, his sweet nothings filling your ears before he gently pulls it away and captures your lips with his.

His cock twitches against your stomach as he gently nibbles on your bottom lip, letting you catch your breath for a few seconds.

You watch as he slowly pushes himself up and looks down at your pussy, and his tongue comes out to wet his lips.

“It’s going to be a long night, sweetheart,” he smirks, before pressing a kiss to your knee, “and I’m only just getting started.”

You whine his name whimpering as his tongue starts lapping at your clit again.

You never should have challenged Marcus Pike.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #marcus pike #marcus pike smut #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #CKT23 #marcus pike x ofc #my fanfiction #my fanfic

[nightfang22]

Get Angry

As a special treat for my friend @p34ch-tr33 who always pulls out my best work! Enjoy!

TW:Angst,smut insinuation,alcohol,18+

A tear runs down my cheek as I blow out the last candle on the cake. 20 candles nearly completely melted, wax mixed with icing, I sat alone in the dark as I waited for him. He should've been here 5 hours ago. Kenny promised this year would be different. He promised. I scroll through my Snapchat just looking at people's stories and watching dog videos. I clicked on Stan's story expecting to see cute photos of Sparky or videos with Wendy. What I saw broke my heart. Stan's story was filled with nothing but videos of a party at Kenny's house. I could see Wendy and Bebe taking shots and Cartman and Heidi making out. Butters was hitting on some poor drunk girl in the corner and Kyle was playing video games. Craig and Tweek were watching Jimmy break dance on a cardboard box in the middle of the room. I choked back a hard sob stuck in my throat but ultimately I failed. Then I remembered what my father told me when I was little: Don't cry, get mad. And when you get mad, get even. I picked myself up and brushed myself off, tossing the ruined cake in the garbage before fixing my makeup. I grabbed my keys and sped off in my car to Kenny's house.

Ever since Kenny's dad got that oil rig job and is never home anymore, Kenny hasn't really been Kenny. We used to celebrate each other's birthdays together all the time when we were kids but he's missed the last couple of years. He always made it up to me in the end but this time he completely forgot and didn't invite me to his party! I'll show him. I pull into Kenny's driveway and get out of my car. I knock on the door but there's no answer. 'Maybe the music is too loud for them to hear anything else?' So I knock again but louder. Stan opens the door looking back over his shoulder laughing at something before turning his head to face me. His eyes widen in shock. "(Y/N), what are you doing here?" He has a glass in his hand that has a golden brown liquid in it. I relieve him of his glass and down it. 'Hm, Kenny's dad's Scotch from the fancy liquor cabinet.' "I just came to say hi to Kenny and to remind him of the date. You know, since he didn't invite me to his little shindig." I said through gritted teeth. Stan is just staring at me dumbfounded before saying, "What? Kenny told us you couldn't make it cause you were sick. Everyone was asking about you." I smile softly and hug him. That makes me feel a teensy bit better. "Thank you, Stan. Where's Kenny?" I ask, my voice now calm and soft. Stan steps aside to let me in and points over to his dad's recliner where Kenny is sat watching Kyle play Nintendo. I give Stan back the empty glass and march over to Kenny. I stand in front of him, blocking his view of Kyle's game. I see his eyes widen for but a moment before I kick him square in the junk. "KENNY MCCORMICK, YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND AND BIGGEST ASSHOLE I'VE EVER MET AND THAT SAYS SOMETHING CONSIDERING WE'VE KNOWN CARTMAN OUR WHOLE GODDAMN LIVES!" I scream at him in front of everyone. He's not wearing his parka so I have a full view of his face and just how red his cheeks are from embarrassment. The music suddenly stops and the whole room falls silent as everyone has their eyes on us. "NOT ONLY DO YOU THROW A PARTY AND TELL EVERYONE I'M SICK BUT YOU FORGET MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A MOTHERFUCKING ROW, YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT! I HOPE YOU GET TOSSED ONTO A PIKE YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU GUYS BUT I THINK THAT KENNY KABOBS SOUND PRETTY GODDAMN GOOD RIGHT ABOUT NOW!" And I kick him square in the junk one more time. Just for good measure, of course. "Okay everyone, let the party continue! It is my birthday, after all!" I slit my eyes in Kenny's direction when I say the word 'birthday'.

     The music starts up again and everyone goes back to partying like nothing even happened. I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a heavy drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I roll my eyes sighing. Spinning around, I say "Kenny, I'm not sorry for kicking you in the balls and I'm especially not sorry for crashing your party, either." But when I spin around I am not met with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. I am met with messy black hair peeking out of a cute blue hat. "I'm not sorry you did either of those things, too. He really deserved it." It's Craig. I look up at his rather tall frame. Craig has towered over me since we were little. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were Kenny." He fakes being wounded in the chest. "Ouch, (Y/N). That bad, huh?" I could only laugh at his cheesy joke and brush his arm as I reply, "Nah, you're way cuter." His cheeks turn bright pink and that's when I notice Kenny watching out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around Craig's neck and pull him in. We start to makeout and he has me pressed up against the wall. I break away only to pull him up the staircase to Kenny's bedroom. I open the door as Craig takes off his shirt. I turn to him as he pins me to the door, shutting it. He pulls my shirt off and unclasps my bra. He moves me to the bed and takes his hat off, placing it gently atop my head. Removing my skirt and undergarments, Craig kisses his way up my legs before he has me pinned beneath him. I never thought that my first time would be like this. As a revenge tactic with someone I didn't love. Especially not with Craig Tucker. He's leaning down to kiss me again when the door slams wide open. Kenny bursts through the door and pulls Craig off of me by the back of his head, slamming him into the wall. I jump up to my elbows. It appears that Craig is rendered unconscious. He's still breathing at least. I can see his chest moving rhythmically. I stare at Kenny as his head turns to me, his breathing hot and heavy. I can see why. He has a raging boner in his jeans. He pulls off his shirt and crawls on top of me. We make very intense and intimate eye contact for a few silent moments. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have forgotten." I clear my throat. "Or lied to everyone about you being sick. Can you please forgive me?" Kenny gives me his best puppy eyes, the ones that always got me to do whatever he wanted when we were little and even still to this day. "Okay, fine. I'll forgive you." He smiled at me softly kissing me on the lips. "You weren't really about to give away what's mine to Craig, right?" I shake my head while giggling. He chuckles. "Good. Now let me give you your birthday gift." He strips his bottoms and I flip him over. "Let me." I whisper. I get real close to his face before I whisper, "Nice try, asshole." I sit back up and slap him across the face. "You could never have me no matter how bad you want me, McCormick." I spit in his face as I got up, Craig's hat still atop my head. I saunter over to the door taking a final turn to look at Kenny. "You'd just die on me anyways, you fucking flip phone." Those were the last words I ever spoke to Kenny McCormick as I left him laying there confused and sexually frustrated with his cock out in a room with an unconscious Craig.

Word Count:1,358

#south park #kenny mccormick #kenny #kenny x reader #x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #craig tucker #craig tucker x reader #south park x reader #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle brovlovski x reader #butters stotch #butters stotch x reader #jimmy valmer #wendy testaburger #tweek tweak #heidi turner #bebe stevens #craig #eric #stan #kyle #butters #jimmy #wendy #tweek

[eris-snow]

2. 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭

Tags: anachronism, shoto x fem!reader, shenanigans, sweet shoto, confusion, confusion, confusion

The person he’s dancing with wears a smile. It’s pretty and kind, and Shoto can’t help but smile too.

“Do I know you?”

Shoto waits breathlessly for your response. Confirm it. Laugh at him. Tell him he’s right. Call him an idiot.

You look at him carefully, watching him like a cat.

“No.”

Shoto doesn’t know why he expected otherwise.

He nods, suddenly aware of how hot his face is. “Right.”

Feeling embarrassed, he walks down the stairs like it’s his walk of shame. Maybe he needs a brain surgeon together with that family therapist. Shoto knows that he’s not the best at picking up social cues, but something up there is obviously not working.

“But I’m flattered that you think so.”

Shoto whirls around, and finds you staring at him curiously. The electric air from before has vanished, but you don’t seem fazed at all as you power through the sparks of awkwardness like this was an average Tuesday.

Shoto may be able to bench-press a car and walk through fire, but the way you breeze through the tension with such leisure puts you in front of him by buildings.

“Exchange numbers?” You suggest, seeing his loss of words. He probably looked like a mess.

Please kill me now.

“Yeah.” He manages, fumbling with his phone. Man, why couldn’t he just say that?

The tension is so thick between the both of you he’s surprised something didn’t shatter.

You look at him with a smile, and Shoto swears he’s going through a cardiac arrest.

“What’s your name?”

He bites his lip, and tastes blood.

“Shoto. Shoto Todoroki.”

—

Shoto was, simply put, fucked.

His head was in a mess and was pounding as he clenched his phone tightly in his hands. On its screen was your number, and your profile picture of a blurred unglam of you. Shoto finds it charming.

What in Endevour’s name happened?

No, scratch that, his father was trying to atone, but Shoto had no qualms about stealing his credit cards and maxing them all out.

He’s done it before, and he’ll do it again.

Shoto grasps his shirt. His heart was only now slowing down, and he felt like he accidentally ingested Shinso’s triple shot Expresso heart attack. In case it wasn’t obvious, Shoto was freaking out. So much so that he almost burned down the dorms again because of his mini “emotion explosion” (He’s getting that trademarked).

It was as if his world was compressed to the size of a stress ball, and any more pressure would cause it to burst. It felt as if it was just you, him and the snow…

Shoto cradles his head in his hands.

What’s this feeling? Why does he feel like his heart is going to explode?

He thinks back to your expression, your eyes, rich with shock and…something else.

Shoto knows it. That you felt it too.

“Stop it.” He whispers. “Get a grip Shoto. Come on.”

He does not.

—

There’s a hand on his shoulder and the other in his own. There’s a glow from an oil lantern, and the rest of the scene is blurry with greens and whites. the marble under his feet squeaks as he dances. The person he’s dancing with wears a smile. It’s pretty and kind, and Shoto can’t help but smile too.

The atmosphere is soft, relaxed, comfortable. Everything is, from the way his steps coincide with the person he’s dancing with, all the way to how his hand is fitted on the mysterious maiden’s.

“Sho,” What a soothing voice.

The words slip out like butter. “Snowflake.”

It feels so right.

All but suddenly, the oil lamp is snuffed out, plunging them into pitch-black darkness.

His alarm clock blares, and Shoto rips his blanket off him as his eyes snap open.

The aching sensation of loss lingers at the back of his throat. Flashes of foggy dialogue linger at the back of his mind. There’s yelling, and there’s crying, all mixed into one glob that pierces the back of his mind like a pike.

Damn, that hurts like a bitch.

-

Shoto cracks his skull against his bedframe and dies.

Or so he wishes.

We should meet up and talk sometime.

Wanna study together?

It’s like he thinks he’s God or something.

He glances through your string of messages with a head stuffed into his pillow, all conversations cut by his ‘I got to go now.’ or ‘Maybe some other time.’

Shoto and you’ve texted. Texted a lot.

But that’s just it. Texting. Your whole chat is essentially a game of Trivia with dialogue ripped straight out from a ‘How to Make Friends’ question list.

He knows enough to find out about your birthday and Quirk, your favourite food, and if he squints, your favourite movie.

Seen each other? Not so much.

It’s not his fault that he has to hit the gym every day, or has twice the amount of assignments to make up for lost time, or has detention for setting the toaster on fire—

Okay maybe that was his fault.

He can’t do this. He tells himself. It’s not fair for you.

Even he knows that’s not something he shouldn’t do.

Shoto wants to see your face, hear your voice, go schizophrenic every time he sees you in the hall. Just, for a prolonged period (and not die.)

That’s why he is determined to schedule a study session with you today, at 2, and no matter how cluttered his schedule is, he will—

“You sure like to get lost in your head, don’t you?”

Shoto turns around and finds you leaning against a pillar. Your smile is dripping with amusement.

Shoto wipes the sweat off his forehead, eyebrows crinkling.

“Urgh, stop that. You really should work on your greetings, Mister I’m So HOT AND COOL—”

Shoto slams a hand on your mouth, hissing. “What is wrong with you? There are people—”

You lick his hand, making him recoil.

Your lips spread into a lazy grin, eyebrow cocked as if to say, do I look like I care?

“You should care,” Shoto replies seriously. “I do.”

“Well, I ain’t you, hero,” you respond. “And to answer your scrunched-up face, I was passing through. Wanted to see what you were up to.”

“The gym and alcoholism.” He says with a straight face.

You’re not fazed in the slightest. “Yeah, that makes sense. Heard about your family and everything. Really, sorry about that, by the way.”

Shoto shrugs. “Well, it’s getting better. Or, it will. Eventually.” Shoto rubs his hand on his sweats, making another round to the weights before he grabs another, heavier than the last. “Oh, right. Are you free this afternoon? My schedule’s clear for once, so I thought we could study together.”

Haha, liar. He had to pull strings to make time for you, but it is worth it when you nod and smile. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

He tries not to think too much about the dream.

When he thinks too hard, it gets even fuzzier. Everything felt so vivid. The warmth in his hand, the gaze on his face, god, he can still remember how much he loved it. He wishes to relive that dream.

He wishes for a lot of things.

Some of them, he can’t quite remember.

#Anachronism (shoto) #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #angst #mha shoto #shoto fluff #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #shoto x you #reincarnation #shoto reincarnation

[chaos-monkeyy]

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

This one is always so much fun 👀 thank you @chaniis-atlantis !! Did a mix of recent posted fics and WIPs I've been working on...

1. Get a Room (stargate)

Evan Lorne walked out of Cheyenne mountain, duffel bag in hand, and blinked up at the clear blue sky of his home planet with a smile.

2. Crash Landing (original work)

“This is callsign: Gremlin, I’m going down, repeat, I’m going down! Can anyone hear me? Need search and rescue, send help, I’m going d—”

3. Recreational Activities (original work)

Lounging in the shade of a large willow near the riverbank, Anth absently chewed on his bottom lip.

4. Strange Requests (cosmere)

In all the jobs you’ve taken over the millennia, this is definitely among the stranger requests.

5. Stealth, or a Lack Thereof (bg3)

Shapeshifting not being one of Gale’s many talents, the precise details involved in animal-human transformations were not something for which he had ever spared much depth of thought.

6. Just a Little Taste (bg3)

“Writing in your little book again, I see.”

7. Pike Wrecks Himself (star trek WIP working title)

“Captain! Gaming night is my pick this evening, you in? It’s gonna be a gooood one.”

8. Untitled cosmere AU WIP

Tien couldn’t sleep.

9. Untitled star trek WIP

“Damn it,” Una said with an irritated sigh from where she was lounging on the couch across the room.

10. Untitled star wars WIP

“Congratulations on the promotion, Captain Thrawn,” Ba’kif said quietly, resting a hand lightly on Thrawn’s back as he leaned in, so as not to startle him.

-

Patterns... Patterns..... Hmm 🤔 I guess, I often tend to identify the POV character in the first line? I can't come up with anything else, the rest is all over the place here 😂

No pressure tags: @mirilyawrites @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @d--dandelions (yay I found you this time 🙈) @dedkake and as always, anyone else who sees it and wants to consider themselves tagged 💕

#tag games #multifandom

[malaismere]

2022 AO3 Stats - Vox Machina & Mighty Nein

(for previous stats check out my ao3 stats tag - most relevant are my end of c2 m9 ship stats)

Behold! The top ships! Marvel at the tangle of lines! These are in 3-month intervals to keep it at least somewhat legible, and I'm sorry to say that you'll probably need to really zoom in to make sense of it, so I can't do a full text description. I will point out where they break 200 fics, however - Perc'ahlia at the end of 2016, Widomauk in mid-2018 (following Molly's death), Shadowgast and Beaujester in early 2019 (with the Essek reveal), Beauyasha from October 2020 through June 2021 (canon, end of Campaign) and Shadowgast from April 2021 to end of 2022, and Laudna/Imogen from July to December 2022 (following Laudna's death).

Additionally: the only C1 ship to be in the top 5 ships while C2 aired was Perc'ahlia, and it only reached it occasionally; throughout C3 Shadowgast has yet to drop below 2, and both Perc'ahlia and Beauyasha have consistently been in the top 5.

Looking closer at each campaign below the cut!

These charts are also in 3-month intervals, to at least try and pretend they're legible. Initial work was done in 2020, so fics deleted before that aren't included, but fics deleted after that may be (depending on how big a time gap there was between posting and deleted). Because of that, these aren't 1:1 with what you'll see on ao3 today but are very close.

Vox Machina

Overall, the Top 10 ships are:

Perc'ahlia

Vaxleth

Vax/Gilmore

Perc'ildan

Pikelan

Vexleth

Keyleth/Vax/Gilmore

Zahra/Vex

Polymachina

Grog/Vax (tie)

Percy/Pike (tie)

Grog Strongjaw

So, the fewer the fics, the messier the chart. Grog doesn't really have a clear dominant ship. The two that stand out are Grog/Vax, which is prevelant from late 2016 to the end of C1, and Grog/Keyleth, which picks up steam and is the dominant post-C1 ship. Altoug, interestingly enough, Grog/Keyleth has fallen out of the way since end of 2020, leaving Grog/Vax to be dominant in 2022. The only other fic to get more than 2 fics is a single Grog/Pike peak in late 2016.

Keyleth

Vaxleth is the big boy here - spiking to 52 from July 2016 to March 2017 (yes, there were three 52s in a row) and 73 in January 2022 as Legend of Vox Machina came out. It was up and down but overall pretty consistent and has never not been Keyleth's top ship.

...althtough Vexleth comes close, only one fic shy in April-June 2022, reaching an all time high post LoVM. Other than that, its been the constant number two - Pikeleth beating it by 1 fic in April-Jun 2017 as the exception that proves the rule. Percleth and Pikeleth are strong during C1 but drop off after; Grogleth is the main pos-C1 but all of them fall to the side aftertheir late 2020 peak, with only Percleth seeing a very small LoVM resurgence.

Percival de Rolo

Perc'ahlia breaks the axis with 182, 256, and 138 fics from July 2016 - March 2017 and a 120 fic LoVM resurgence in early 2022. It had a later start than Vaxleth but quickly outshown it, and has been in and out but fairly constant during C2. The combo of C3 cameos & LoVM has kept it at it's C1 highs and that's only expected to continue once S2 drops.

Perc'ildan is the constant number 2, save for a small peak of Percy/Tary following his introduction in 2017 and Percy/Pike beating out with 5 fics to Perc'ildan and Percleth's 4 in late 2020; nothing else breaks 5,

Pike Trickfoot

So, during C1 things were a bit of a mix. Pikelan started strong, but Percy/Pike is the top in July-September 2016, and Pike/Vex and Pke/Keyleth for Femslash February 2017. However, Percy's the only one of these to really have much to show post-C1.

Pikelan is highest at the end of C1, and then is pretty constant. It did see a spike for LoVM, but not a very significant one.

Scanlan Shorthalt

Pikelan dominates and always has with a Vaxlan exception for the end of C1 / The Wish. Everything else is in the minor leagues - Vaxlan has a showing, the rest are only 1-2 fics and hard to interpret.

Vax'ildan

Vaxleth is the big boy here - spiking to 52 from July 2016 to March 2017 (yes, there were three 52s in a row) and 73 in January 2022 with LoVM. However, unlike Keyleth, Vax is way more even - Vaxmore beats out Vaxleth in late 2020, and Perc'ildan in April-June 2022. Vaxmore was prety constant, dropping only slightly post-C1; Perc'ildan had a mre significant drop, but then a more signficant LoVM resurgence.

Vax/Grog and Vax/Scanlan are pretty comparable; Vax/Scanlan peaks in late 2017 with the Vecna stuff, but Vax/Grog is the bigger ship post-C1. Both still only broke above 5 for the end of C1.

Vex'ahlia

Perc'ahlia breaks the axis with 182, 256, and 138 fics from July 2016 - March 2017 and a 120 fic LoVM resurgence in early 2022. Same as Percy, there's only one other ship of note - Vexleth, which hits a high following LoVM but never breaks 25.

Pike/Vex hits a Femslash February high in 2017, as does Zahra/Vex (which is at Vexleth levels for 2016) but everything else is dead quiet.

Taryon Darrington

Unsurprisingly, Tary's pretty quiet. Post-introduction there's a Percy/Tary high; after that, there are occasional Percy/Tary and Tary/Lawrence fics, but oly in the 1-2 range.

Mighty Nein

Overall the top 10 ships are

Shadowgast

Beauyasha

Widomauk

Widojest

Beaujester

Fjorester

Widofjord

Fjorclay

Clayleb

**Blumentrio**

Widobrave

Fjord

So, Widofjord started out the top ship, and stayed that way through early 2019 before slowly dropping to the wayside. Fjorclay took over after that and has one of the sharpest declines ever, currently sitting at like 2/year. Fjorester, always a top but secondary ship, bursts up to a 160 peak with the end of C2 and them being canon, falling back down to average levels albeit the top ship. Fjorester gets a small bump for the M9 Reunion.

Also notable: Fjolly starts strong but fades out following Molly's death; there's a peak in Avantika/Fjord during the pirate arc that trails off, and we have two Fjord/Nott peaks in late 2019 and early 2021 coinciding with peak Nott bullying Fjord moments.

Beauregard Lionett

Beauyasha is the top ship, with a peak of 343 in the end of C2. Beaujester takes over during 2019 following the Zuala reveal and Beau revealing her crush on Jester, but falls off during the Hiatus as Beauyasha become canon. The Ot3 is really the only secondary ship, aside from a tny peak of Beau/Keg after they fucked - there's no similar Beau/Reani peak.

Caleb Widogast

Widomauk dominates in 2018, htting a high with Molly's death, and then slowly but steadily declines after that. Widojest makes a valiiant attempt in 2019, and is pretty strong during tthe hiatus, but Shadowgast over takes, with its first peak in early 2020 with the Treason Reveal, and then a 677 fic peak for the end of C2 (the highest of Any Ship Ever).

Widofjord was the second ship but fell off after Essek's introduction; Clayleb was briefly popular in early 2019 but fell off as Fjorclay grew. Widobrave gets an alltime high with Veth getting her body back in early 2020, and is at simlar levels with Widofjord for the rest of C2, but falls off more sharply after. Blumentrio is similarly low but gets peaks in 2019 with the Scourger introduction and at the end of C2 with the Eiselcross arc, and has been pretty constant after.

Nott / Veth Brenatto

Nott/Yeza is the big ship with its high point following Yeza's introduction/rescue, and stays a pretty constant ship. Widobrave takes over with the ritual to get Veth's body back, and they're close for 2020 but Widobrave falls off faster, and doesn't get a resurgence with M9 Reunited as Nott/Yeza did.

Other than that....there's some Nott/Jester in late 2018, some Nott/Cad in early 2019 I think was just one person, and Fjord/Nott, which peaks in late 2019 and early 2021 with peak Nott Bullying Fjord moments. post C2, it is the only other Nott ship. Like. At all.

Jester Lavorre

Fjorester starts out at the top, but slowly declines through 2019 until the Eiselcross arc and end of C2-canon. Even then, it never its the highs Beaujester or Widojest do as they battle for dominance in 2019/2020. Both have fallen down to be closer to the levels seen by Jolly, Yashter, and the Beauyashter ot3.

Mollymauk Tealeaf

Widomauk. It exists. Widofjord used to exist. It doesn't, anymore. A few people wrote Jolly, and that's not really a thing. You can start to see people writing Molly/Essek. They're doing so because Shadowgast is popular, although the ot3 tag isn't super prevelant/comparable.

More seriously, you can see a peak following Lucien's return but it then drops off with no real end of C2 spike because...well, Kingsley. Hard to say whether it's hit a constant or if it'll continue to decline.

Yasha Nydoorin

Beauyasha had it's heyday in post-Hiatus C2. It's since dropped back to early levels, still far and away the top Yasha ship. Yashter & the Beauyashter ot3 are the only others that really compare, save a small Zuala peak after the backstory reveal that gets occasional fics. Even these have fallen to the wayside post-C2. Only Beauyasha remains.

Caduceus Clay

So, with Caduceus, he's the replacement for Widomauk in late 2018 to early 2019, before Fjorclay takes the stand, with a 120 fic peak during the 2020 hiatus. It then immediately falls down to nothing, as does the brief fling with Cadwulf, since Taliesin went on Talks and confirmed that Caduceus was Asexual. Since then...things have been pretty quiet, never getting a full 0 ship fics, but also never getting more than 5.

Kingsley Tealeaf

So, in the immediate post C2, we see some Caleb/Kingsley, comparable to Widomauk, with some Essek/Kingsley because ot3.

Fjord/Kingsley is perfectly hidden behind Jester/Kingsely, as their distribution is identical: because it's actually Fjord/Jester/Kingsley, which is actually the #2 ship.

#ao3 stats #cr stats #cr meta #vox machina #mighty nein #percahlia #vaxleth #shadowgast #beauyasha #widomauk #fjorester

[morallyinept]

PART 1

Thank you so much to everyone's positive response on this! 🥰 I'm so glad you all thought it was a good idea, and one that you want to get on board with. So many of you too, which is great! I've had to split it in two parts as there was so many of you!

Marcus and I are stoked! 🤗

Below, you'll find the pairings...

Now, the pairings have been done as randomly as possible. I tried to pair with things you might have in common initially, but some profiles are empty or don't have much to give away, so in the end all names were put into a hat and I pulled pairs, so it's as unbiased as possible.

☝🏻This isn't about popularity or numbers, this is about making a new friend in the fandom. If you've been paired with someone you're already speaking with/getting to know, that's great! Continue that friendship.

If you happen to be paired with someone who you've attempted to get to know before and it hasn't panned out so well, why not give it another try?

I can't re-pair you, I'm afraid, as we had even numbers, so I apologise in advance if you end up with someone who you haven't gotten on well with before. (Hopefully, that's not the case.) But you are always free to reach out to me - I love making new friends too!

And please bear in mind, I've tried my best - I'm not responsible for what you guys do and how you interact with one another. Please ensure you're respectful and kind and treat others how you would want to be treated.

And if you need some pointers on starting the conversation, you could try these:

Remember why we're here - Pedro! Have a chat about your favourite roles he's played, or films. Which character of his is your favourite and why? When did you first discover him? Why do you like being a fan of his?

Are you a writer/reader/both? Perhaps you can talk about your favourite fics you've written/read? Again, why did you like them? Same goes if you're an artist or creator of any kind.

Saying a simple hello, how are you? Can lead onto great things. Don't be afraid to say hello and strike up a conversation.

You got any pointers, Marcus?

I mean sure, yeah. That's a great question... personally yes, I like butter with my popcorn. 🍿 Looks like we have something in common, bud!

It's up to you about how much you want to give away about yourself. Stick to your boundaries. Natural friendship will progress how it should - naturally. And those boundaries will become lowered in time. Don't force it, and please, be respectful of one another's boundaries.

If it fizzles out after a few messages exchanged, that's okay. Please don't take it personally. We all have lives off of Tumblr, and it might take some people longer to reply, or they may be really shy. Try not to bombard them with messages.

☝🏻Remember you will only get out of this what you are willing to put in. Please be kind and respectful to one another.

Okay, Marcus, let's get to the pairings...

PAIRINGS:

Anyone that re-blogged or commented on the original post has been included, even if you signal boosted, unless you specifically stated you didn't want to participate. Hopefully I've not missed anyone. Some of you I am not able to tag so I have linked to your profile for your friend to find you. Please reach out to them when you're ready:

@chronically-ghosted & @schnarfer

@maggiemayhemnj & @bubble-pop-eclectic

@kittytiddywinks & @khindahra

@ineedcomfy & @toxic-seduction

@boliv-jenta & @sj66

@deathwife & @perotovar

@itsokbbygrl & @sawymredfox

@toointojoelmiller & @secretelephanttattoo

@jennaispunk & @beefrobeefcal

@qveerthe0ry & @prolix-yuy

@missredherring & @beecastle

@sp00kymulderr & @sydneyinacoma

@innerpersonunknown & @nerdieforpedro

@sin-djarin & @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain

@ishabull & @rhoorl

@katareyoudrilling & @i-love-movies

@myloveistoolittle & @javierpenaispunk

@grogusmum & @quicax3

@all-the-things-2020 & @ghostofaboy

@lizette50 & @nicolethered

Good luck and have fun getting to know one another! Marcus and I would love to hear from you guys about your new friendships too, so please feel free get in contact and let us know how it's going! 🖤

#pike's pick and mix #pedro pascal #marcus pike #making friends

[boliv-jenta]

Marcus Moreno x f!reader

Warnings: protected P in V sex. Talk of sex work.

Summary: A new client finds her perfect match at one of the motel's Fantasy Weekends.

And It Just Keeps Getting Better

Part 2: It's Always the Quiet Ones.

The bass practically shook the walls of the reception hall.

"Someone go tell Omar to turn it down!" Pike calls as he joins the group outside.

"Tell him my hangover would thank him for it." Dieter adds, wincing as he rubs his temples.

"I have some oils that could soothe that, Princesa." Oberyn offers, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he looks at the permanently dishevelled man that he has taken quite a shine to.

"I'm good. Thanks." Dieter offers him a lop-sided smile of his own.

"Remember we need to circulate and talk to the guests. Not each other." Pike glanced at Oberyn's hand resting on Dieter's shoulder. "I'll have Omar turn the music down so we can actually hear them. Santos is serving food in an hour. That will give the guests time to choose from the other menu."

The Fantasy Weekend was always popular. It cost extra but guests were able to get to know the boys before they chose how they wanted to spend their weekend. Usually bookings were just made through Ezra. He would draw out every detail he needed to pair the person up with the perfect partner. Some were simple. A woman calls up looking for a cowboy, he books her in with Jack. A guy calls looking for the same thing, he gets Silva. Ezra enjoys the more complex ones. The one where he has to listen to what's being said between the words. The woman who insists she is not interested in romance and adamant that she just wants a rough, thrilling fuck. Ezra thinks the lady doth protest too much and sends her to Javier. They definitely gets her hard, satisfying fucking, there's no doubt about that. But a look from Javier's dark eyes that seem to magnify every emotion, shining with concern as he hands her a glass of water reminds her what she is missing out on. It's a cathartic realisation. It's okay to want something outside of the career she's worked so hard for.

Occasionally people ask what happens if they don't find their matches attractive. Ezra reassures them with a chuckle that they will. He's never had a customer who didn't fall for the charm of the boys.

"We have a couple of guests in the side room. Pike and I will tend to them." Moreno steps through the gathering of bodies. "You all know the drill. When Max has finished his introductions, go mingle. Javier and Din will keep an eye on everyone."

"Yes, boss." Jack tips his hat as Joel hides a smirk. Neither of them mind the Marcuses taking control of things, they just find their pathological need for organisation amusing.

Pike mutters a head count under his breath. "Wait, where's Dave?"

Frankie adjusts his cap and clears his throat. "He got a head start on things."

As if on cue Omar finally turned the music down. The sounds of ecstatic screaming came from above.

Dave York was like a predator, when the guests were herded in he would eye them up, looking for any weak ones to pick off. The timid little things were even more impressed by his prowess. That earned him a bigger tip, excellent word of mouth and repeat business. Plus it meant everything was on his terms, Dave hated to be dictated to. That was another reason he gave gatherings a miss. Once he lays his current client out for the night he might swing by to pick up someone who got off on the danger of him having someone else waiting for him. The wedding ring he wore fuelled the fantasy as he slipped his fingers into their panties to tease them before rapidly fucking them in a dark corner. Sending them on their way on shaking legs.

"Of course." Pike sighed.

"Here, at the Hotel de Deseo. We leave no wish unfulfilled!" Max finishes his intro with a flourish.

"Here we go." Joel yanks the doors open leaving those more comfortable with the attention to go in first. Of course, Oberyn and Dieter are first through. The crowd's gaze is mixed. Lust, approval and admiration cross their faces. Each of them give the men appraising glaces, up and down, before settling on the flower each man had pinned to their lapel, or sweater in Dieter's case. To aid the guests in their search for their perfect fantasy partner, each man wore a flower denoting their sexuality. Simple white blooms from the men that only slept with women. Green carnations for the men that only slept with men. Rainbow roses for everyone in between.

Silva and Gregor always elicited a few disappointed sighs from the women. The same goes for Joel, Pike and Moreno with the men.

Finally the pounding base was turned off. Every muscle in your body relaxed slightly, only for a moment. The nice woman, Mrs Lord, that showed you had given you a brief rundown of what to expect. After the dancing and mingling to loosen up. The men would enter and circulate, giving everyone time to work out who they'd like to spend the night with. From the cheering, you guessed that the men had entered. Suddenly you couldn't remember the courage that had brought you here. It was as if someone else called the number and made all the arrangements. Someone else picked a beautiful floral underwear set. Someone else delicately sprayed perfume over your decolletage, hoping that someone would get close enough to enjoy it. It wasn't an all together strange feeling to feel like someone else was controlling your body. Some days you felt like an imposter in it, just going through the motions of acting like a human being.

The door to the simply furnished side room you were sitting in opened. Kind brown eyes framed by thick black glasses meet yours as a smartly dressed man enters the room. He gives you a friendly smile as he edges closer giving you time to adjust to his presence.

"Hi, I thought there were two of you?" He glances around the small room as if he expects the other woman that was here to break out of the camouflage she's using to hide in the tiny room.

The owl-like motion makes you smile. "She got up the courage to go out there."

"But you're happy here…?" His question seems loaded as your fingers dig in the sofa cushions on either side of your thighs.

"Yeah, yes." A bubble of emotion bursts in your throat. "No. To be honest, I thought I could do this…I can't." Shaking your head, you hang it low.

"Can't do what? Sit on a sofa? That's all we're doing right now." The sofa dips on the other side under his weight. "There is absolutely no pressure to go any further with this. You can leave. We'll give you a refund of what you've paid so far. Since you have come all the way out here, maybe you could at least tell me what you're looking for."

"Sex." The word shoots out before you can stop it. You had an appreciation for honesty but that was blunt even for you. "I mean…"

Tiny laughter lines bloom on the man's face. He somehow manages to be even more attractive as he laughs at your candour. "It's okay. I appreciate your honesty. Sorry, forgive my bad manners. I'm Marcus. I'm here to help you find your perfect partner for the night, and the weekend if you'd like. I'm just going to ask you a few questions if that's okay?"

He flips over the clipboard on his lap.

"Yeah. Sure. Can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away. I'm here if you need anything at all."

"Are you one of the partners I could pick?"

When he nervously removes his glasses to clean them and you see his warm eyes properly, you're sure that he is the one. A relieved sigh leaves you when he answers. "Yes, I am."

Marcus diligently takes notes of everything you tell him. After Covid your company decided to have you work from home full time. In some ways it was a blessing. You didn't have to adjust to the world again. You could stay safe in your little bubble. Catering to your needs in a way the work environment just couldn't. The downside was that you met less people. There were less opportunities to find a partner organically. Dating apps and singles nights sounded like a nightmare. Plus you weren't sure if you wanted a relationship. A little human contact of the adult variety could probably keep you feeling fine for a while. That's when you'd heard about the motel. It sounded perfect. No messy social interaction. No second guessing people's intentions. Just a straightforward transactional exchange.

"It really is beautiful out here." Taking a lung full of fresh forest air, you relax as you look out across the lake.

"I thought you might like it. It's peaceful. I come out here to think."

"What do you think about? Sorry, is that too personal?"

"No. Just life I guess. I used to be in law enforcement. I retired for my daughter."

"You have a daughter?"

"Yeah, she lives with her mom. We divorced a couple of years back. I have her every other weekend. Sorry, maybe that was too personal." Marcus was always an open book with his clients when he felt that they needed to connect.

"No. I'm interested in what kind of man chooses to spend his weekends like this."

"A broke one if I'm honest. Some of the guys do it for fun. I got into it for the money but it does have its perks."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm walking on the beach with a beautiful woman on a gorgeous night. What could be better?" The air between you became awkward. "Sorry. That sounded cheesy even to me. Oh, look we're here."

At the perfect moment you arrive at the beach cabin. It looks like a small one bedroomed log cabin. Recently made by your guess.

"This is Joel's handiwork. Working with wood is his passion." Marcus steps aside to allow you to enter the cabin.

The 'one bedroom' description was very accurate. It was literally a bedroom. A large high bed sat in the middle. A door to the left of it and a nightstand stocked with condoms and lube to the right of it.

"So what do we do now? Do we just have sex?"

Marcus gave you an adorable shy smile. "If that's what you want. How would you like to…"

"I don't know. It's been a while. I'm assuming the part still fit in the same way but I'm nervous about feeling comfortable in my body and want to do..to you."

"You don't have to do anything to me. I'll take care of everything."

The bed was soft but not as soft as Marcus's hands on your hips. His thumbs stroked circles on your bare flesh. His head was currently under your skirt. With your concerns about being naked in front of him he'd simply worked about your dress. Slipping your panties off to give him access before licking you intimately. It was better than you remembered and far better than any toy you had bought to satisfy your urges. His tongue had dipped inside you a couple of times before teasing your clit with kitten licks. A soft whine emanates from you when he brings you to a subdued orgasm.

Embarrassment wells inside you as he emerges with your slick covering his face. He made you feel so good yet you barely made a sound. He must be used to woman who scream his name not repressed woman who are terrified to utter a moan in case their neighbours hear.

"Was that good? You seem a little tense."

Marcus observes.

"It was. Very good. I just…I'm a little uptight naturally I guess."

"I can understand that. A few of the guys here tease me for that. Is there anything I can do to help you with that? How can I put you at ease?"

"No one will come out here, will they?"

"No, the party is still going on. I've booked the room so there's no need for them to."

"Could we put that radio on?"

"Sure, anything in particular you want?"

"No, something soft and can you turn it up?"

Marcus picked a soft Spanish station. The light guitar melody filled the air as he returned to you.

"Do you want me to make love to you now?"

"Yes. Marcus? Where would you like me to touch you?"

"I'll let you know."

Marcus eaes his pants down just far enough to free his sizable erection. Seeing you flinch he makes sure to add a generous amount of lube over the condom.

"Here we go." He pushes inside you like you're made of tissue paper. A slow gentle slide like he's afraid to rip you in two until he's fully inside you.

A strangled gasp cuts from you.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. I just forgot how good that was."

"Hopefully, it will just get better."

When he sees you forget how to breathe with his first thrust. He takes your hands in his holding them on the bed. "Just breathe."

The warmth of him filling you up is incredible. None of your toys can replicate this either. Or his kisses on your shoulder. A moan drifts out of you as you give yourself over to him. Willing yourself to untense and let him give you the satisfaction you came for.

As your body welcomes him, he speeds up. "Oh, that's it. You're taking me so well."

As Marcus lifts off of you slightly he strikes a new angle inside you. "Oh! Marcus."

"My name sounds so beautiful from your lips. Say it again for me, please?" He pumps his hips at the same angle.

"Oh, Marcus! Marcus!" The volume of your voice startles you but he is making you want to scream his name. Anyone in ear shot be damned. Your legs come up around his waist. Shifting you slightly he sinks deeper.

"Oh, yes! God!" Your head is thrown back into the pillows. You're sure that you look possessed. Wild and feral but you can't seem to care as he pounds into you. "Marcus. Marcus. Marcus." All shame leaves you as he builds another orgasm deep inside you. This one almost takes your breath with its intensity and it hasn't even crested yet.

Suddenly it does. "Marcus. Oh, yes. Marcus. Yes!"

"Oh, oh. I'm gonna…ooooh." Marcus adds a few moans of his own as he fills the condom.

Deciding to end the night on a high, that is where your time at the motel ends. Marcus sees you out. A cab picks you up from the front desk.

As Marcus waves you off Dave appears from his room. "Drove one away already Pike? That's a new record." He calls as he descends the stairs.

Marcus usually tries to rise above the barbs but seeing you bloom for him has his pride high. "Was the last record held by you and your stunning people skills?" He snipes at Dave.

"If I send them away it's for medical attention. I just had another one pass out on me." Dave calmly lights a cigarette as Marcus's head whips up his room. "Relax, Boy Scout. She's fine. Kyle's given her the once over. She apparently hadn't squirted before."

Dave finished half his cigarette before stubbing it out against the and throwing it in the trash. "Anyway it means I get to pull a double shift. You coming?"

Max and his wife watch from the office as the two of them walk away.

Marcus takes a last longing look after your cab before heading back to the party.

"I'm surprised we've made it this long with all the testosterone in this place." She teased him.

"Mi Amor, with you handpicking these men, how could we go wrong?"

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x f!reader #maxwell lord #oberyn martell #joel miller #marcus pike #dieter bravo #it just keeps getting better

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (52)

part 52 of 55 | 1894 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

It’s been three days since Steve told Robin about the blackmail, and Eddie is a goddamn wreck. 

This is a mean place to leave off, but the next chapter goes up on Monday. In the meantime, enjoy your Friday the 13th. ❤️

52.

It’s been three days since Steve told Robin about the blackmail, and Eddie is a goddamn wreck. 

Spring Break had left him with plenty of physical damage—scars that start on his left cheek and continue down to his thighs, deepest near his middle where he’d almost been eviscerated, and on bad days he still has a trace of a limp. 

There’s non-physical stuff too. Nightmares. He now has first hand experience with going to war against and being eaten alive by literal monsters, after all. And there’s Chrissy. . . . Always Chrissy. Those few but terrifying days had shattered his long-held beliefs in the difference between real life and fiction without any pause to let him pick up the pieces. What a mindfuck.

He still has nightmares, even with Steve in bed beside him; they both do. The comedown is easier together than alone, but it still happens. What surprises Eddie, though, is that his are about familiar things made horrifyingly unfamiliar. Running from the cops or angry jocks, for example, now supercharged with the cops pumping him full of lead and the jocks pummeling him to death, or coming at him with knives and stabbing out his entrails. Yeah, the bats and the blood and the fucking vines everywhere are in the mix too, but they’re horror movie props. They’re the spectators, the window dressing, even though every bullet or blow or knife feels like it has teeth.

Everything from Spring Break happened so fast, is the thing—even though the essence of it all is seared into his brain, his dreams never get the details quite right. All that Upside Down shit feels less real in the light of day, and like maybe he went crazy and imagined all of it. Sometimes the only way to make sure is to ask Steve, or Dustin, or any of his new monster hunting friends.

Worst by far, somehow, are the nightmares where those friends, the only people in this shitty town who had been right there in the trenches with him when public opinion screamed for his head on a pike, just . . . lose interest in him. Where they lose touch, slip through his fingers, and all he’s got to show from knowing them is a mangled torso and a tendency to jump at shadows. 

Lately, he’s been dreaming that Robin, the first fellow queer friend he’d knowingly made in this hellhole town, is the first to turn away from him, and he can’t even blame her.

“She’s making me sweat it out on purpose,” he groans, face-down on the floor in Jeff’s temporary room at his aunt’s house. It smells like dust and old cigarettes down there, but he figures it’s what he deserves. 

“Dude, you blackmailed her best friend,” Jeff points out. Unhelpfully, in Eddie’s opinion. “Not very well, but still. If someone pulled that shit on you I’d be out there slashing tires and egging their house.”

“You’re such a comfort,” Eddie mutters into the carpet. “I’m so glad I come to you with my problems.”

He can practically hear Jeff rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I am. She might be messing with you, but at least she’s not fucking with any of your shit. I know you consider the silent treatment to be the most hideous form of torture—”

Face still hidden, Eddie winces. Because Jeff’s not wrong, but Steve and Robin have been actually tortured for information by evil Russians and he’s a total wimp in comparison. 

“—But it could be a lot worse.”

It could be. He knows that. And Steve keeps assuring him that everything’s fine, that he talked it out with Robin and she’s calmed down by now. Eddie nods along but keeps gnawing his nails down to the quick anyway, because that’s with Steve. She’s fine with Steve, calm with Steve, and still her schedule has casually omitted running into Eddie in any way. As far as he’s concerned speaks for itself.

And it doesn’t help when he tells Jeff about telling Steve about telling Jeff—which, okay, fine, it sounds stupid when put like that—his best friend had rolled his eyes and said, “Really Ed? You only just now thought to mention it?”

One more thing for Robin to rip his head off over. And Steve probably won’t pick him over her, which makes Eddie want to crumble to dust. 

Well. He doesn’t think Steve should pick him over Robin. The actual ‘he picks me, he picks me not’ shit is something his guesses seesaw back and forth on all the time. 

The world hadn't stopped for the apocalypse, let alone Eddie nearly dying or Eddie freaking out. Thatcher Tire doesn’t want him back after the murder charges and the government payout won’t last forever, so he’s spent the entire day going from storefront to storefront in what passes for downtown Hawkins.

He knows that Steve is working at Family Video today, because he’d pried himself out of bed and Eddie’s starfish grip that morning for that very reason. He also knows that Robin isn’t on the schedule today, because he’s thought to ask before dozing back off for a few hours. So he feels no hesitation before sailing into the video rental store from the deserted parking lot and announcing with a flourish, “You are looking at Melvald’s newest stock boy, courtesy of one benevolent Joyce Byers!”

It comes out as a weird mix of triumphant and resigned, falling flat in the still air of Family Video. Because yeah, he has a job, but it came at the heels of a series of rejections and feels like a pity offer. Does it count as nepotism if it comes from the matriarch of their weird little unofficial monster-hunting family?

When his declaration goes unanswered, Eddie takes a moment to really take in his surroundings. He’d expected no one else to be in the store, and there isn’t; but it isn’t Steve behind the counter.

It’s Robin. 

The door has already closed behind him, cutting off the easiest escape route. He could open it again, but that would be going out of his way to run from danger, something he’s promised himself he won’t do anymore. And . . . Steve had sworn up and down to him that everything’s fine. 

The deliberately blank look on Robin’s face suggests that Steve was incorrect.

Eddie moves forward by sheer force of momentum, jamming his hands in his jeans pockets and clearing his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“Hello,” Robin replies, in a tone that implies that the rest of that sentence is ‘and welcome to Family Video, where the theater comes to your living room,’** or whatever corporate bullshit she and Steve might technically be required to say but never actually do. Eddie’s heard her customer service voice before, but never directed at him. He almost trips over his own feet hearing it now. 

“So. . . .” Eddie usually prides himself on knowing what to say, or at least being able to vamp for time and posture a lot until he figures it out. To have it happen with someone he knows well is absolutely excruciating. 

A tiny part of him worries that Steve had set him up for this, faked having work today or something to force this meeting and get it over with. But Steve wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“Is Steve around?” he asks finally, aware that the silence has been dragging and Robin, unusually, is making no attempt to put it out of its misery.

She narrows her eyes and jerks a thumb over one shoulder towards the door marked Employees Only. 

So, okay, Steve is probably on break and Eddie had just misremembered Robin’s schedule. That’s fine. That’s something, anyway. He can work with something. 

With a vague salute that he hopes to god comes across as inoffensive and casual, Eddie beelines for the break room. He’ll feel a little better with Steve at his back, or at least after he gets a chance to hiss “I told you so” and work some of the panicking out of his system.

The break room, however, is empty save for a flimsy card table, some shitty folding chairs, and a couch that's definitely seen better days. Eddie looks around, dumbfounded, and even ducks into the adjoining manager’s office to double check that Steve isn’t holed up in there for some reason. He hears the break room door swing open and shut again and darts out hopefully, but—

It’s Robin again. “Steve felt a migraine coming on a couple hours into his shift and called me to fill in for him,” she announces. “I just flipped the sign to closed. We, Eddie Munson, are going to have a talk.”

-

** I read the "Welcome to Family Video, where the theater comes tyo your living room" line in Cut and Changed and Rearranged by AidaRonan and could not get it out of my head, so it crept in here. And then I had to dig around until I found the fic it was from, because my memory for titles is like Swiss cheese. Anyway, great fic, highly recommend!

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington

[mdhwrites]

Which character stands out the most for you in Star Rail?

Meet Guinevere, though known nowadays as Guinaifen or Little Gui after her planet blew up and she moved to the Xianshou Loufu to be a street performer.

She is actually one of the characters I DON'T have leveled right now, though she's high on my priority list. This also means that she's caught my attention despite the fact that I'm not mechanically using her and she's also a four star so she's not one of the characters you have to go hard on trying to get ahold of. In fact, come 2.0, one of the events for that patch will include the chance to get a free Guinaifen (if you pick her over the other options available.)

No, this actually just comes down to the fact that she is a very VIVID character, even without reading her character story. In the game, she has had two major appearances. One was when she first came out and was given a small introduction in the Pokemon parody event where she introduced herself as an outworlder living on the kiiiind of racist Xianshou Loufu as a street performer which would not be an easy job to put it mildly. Little Gui is her online handle/her performance handle and her performances include, not kidding or over exaggerating: Slurping Noodles While Doing a Handstand Brushing Teeth While Whistling Smashing Boulder on Chest (She even has a special equip that literally shows and talks about her doing this with her bestie) Blocking Pike with Neck Swallowing Sword to Stomach CATCHING BULLET WITH HANDS

AGAIN. NOT A JOKE. AND THAT'S NOT EVEN A FULL LIST.

And mind you, with this being a space fantasy, live streaming exists and yes, Little Gui is a streamer. What sort?

That sort. Also, meet Sushang, her best friend. They are maybe the only two female friends in this game, along with their HuoHuo, who I do not go "AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES!" But yeah, she's a bit loud, she's trying really hard and she's just got so much energy.

But... This is where we get into why she is actually interesting. See, when this cutscene happens... She's in a slump. See, the majority of her content effectively revolves around her being an outsider of the Loufu, where she lives now. Her first big hit series was actually doing food reviews and detailing the best dining spots and delicacies on the ship. She's not been doing those lately though. In fact, she hasn't been streaming as much either.

Also, if you question her as she wants to go to the haunted garden, she will actually drop the act. Her VA, English one since I don't play with Japanese voices, is actually INCREDIBLE here because you can genuinely tell the shift in just her voice to be a little deeper and little more relaxed as she stops trying to hype things up. Little Gui is NOT Guinaifen after all. It's just her stage name.

Mind you, she also isn't entirely a liar either. She is passionate and excitable, she has the right energy to do this sort of work, but the game doesn't try to pretend that she's cranked up to eleven at all times. She's just a human being trying to make it in this world. I haven't seen many streamer characters admittedly but I genuinely love how real she feels as a performer like this while staying a person.

Part of her standing out admittedly is helped by being a part of literally the best content on the planet she's a part of. Fyxestroll Garden is a great expansion with a nice story that eventually starts mixing the science and fantasy sides really well as Guinaifen helps lead the Ghost Hunting Squad! She deals with the social media side of it to keep rumors down and keep the rest of the Loufu from understanding quite what is going on while her, Sushang and the little girl with paw eyes from the trailer, Huohuo.

The trio are all helpless scaredy cats. Little Gui is the bravest of all of them and as you saw in the video, that isn't saying much. But through the events, she had to confront her old fans, show us how she works and be just a lot of fun. It also makes sure that you always remember her as part of this trio, giving her people to bounce off of and add to her cheer and charm.

And that's despite the fact that her PLANET IS FUCKING GONE. Yeah, the biggest antagonistic force of the universe literally destroyed her home planet. She can never go back and it's REALLY easy not to properly realize this because it comes up in a TEXT MESSAGE and from her character stories which you only get if you level her up. It's admittedly MUCH more explicit in her character story page, I'm reading them now on the wiki, but you only get those parts of her if you actually use her. Here is her singing of it as a part of a folk song, which is another talent she uses for her performances. I was truly from that outworld court named Camelot, and has my siblings altogether a dozen lot. Our days were peaceful and joyous to boot, but who'd thought that the Ruin Author made trouble all afoot. Parents fought back the invaders and arms they took, yet the Legion broke the nation's back. Powerless Dad stood. Elder brother led us siblings wandering without a root, to an IPC mining planet covered in dark soot. Eke out a living with meager scraps we undertook, homeless and meal-less often was our wont. My brother a timid man, doing back-breaking work. To piracy he was forced, interstellar raider forsook. Commercial shipments he only waylaid, homes he never burnt. They sing he was a hero among bandits, distributing his loot. He led hundreds of poor souls in a desperate force, terrible to look. Fallen wayward in the eyes of the law, just so we get enough food.

...Have Little Gui juggling to rinse that out a bit.

(This is one of her two idles and I love it.)

But the fact that this backstory isn't the core of her character, it is instead how she has decided to rise from the ashes that's important, is part of what I love about her character. If you just want to treat her as a fun performer, that's okay! If you want to see her as another pair of lesbians with ShangShang, the game allows for that too. But there's just... A lot. A lot of potential while still have a fleshed out and realized person behind it. It's part of why of all the characters I'd love to next see get a 5 star upgraded version (we've gotten one already), I'd LOVE to see Princess/Queen Guinaifen someday who manages to bring her old home and new together into something even better.

If she never does though, I won't complain either. Not when I'm already a fan of Little Gui and SMASHED that subscribe button.

And just to finish this off: She is currently considered the third best Damage over Time, DoT, character in the game (there are six if we count Black Swan who comes out in five days) and the best of the four star DoT characters. Her kit is actually REALLY strong, even mimicking one of the best parts of a 5 star DoT character in retriggering a certain type of DoT. Not only that but she debuffs the enemy to make them take more damage from anything the more times they get burned, her style of DoT. She also has just an absolutely amazing ult animation even though I can't tell you why these small dogs, called Ditings, are related with her so much.

(I wasn't able to find gifs for this that would actually work for either this or her idle, hence the videos.)

So yeah, if she's caught your eye too, she's actually really good and super viable as a sub-DPS/debuffer. It's something I will always keep pointing out because the 4 stars in this game are genuinely strong and Guinaifen is no different. I just unfortunately took a while to realize and have also been using so many resources on upgrading other characters.

But yeah, I could keep going but she herself would tell me to leave the audience wanting more. So leave another ask if you want to hear what I think you could do non-canonically with her or the like, or just to hear thoughts on other characters like the rest of the ghost hunting squad themselves. For now, she still stands tall as one of my favorites in the game and honestly, probably my favorite character from her planet, even if it isn't her original home. The Loufu desperately needed a laugh though and this firecracker is just what the doctor ordered.

======+++++======

As a note: I don't know if I'd say she's my favorite character. She's up there and almost certainly is top three or five but she's got some stiff competition. She is probably the person I want to see developed further the most though which is why I chose to talk about her for this blog.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#Honkai Star Rail #guinaifen #hsr #star rail

[shiroi---kumo]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Somehow they keep getting lucky enough to not get themselves thrown out of the last few villages on sight. Somehow they haven't been met with harsh glares or pitchforks while the local populace chants about the White Devil and The Great Destroyer and how they would be better off if either one of them ended up with their head on pike. (Or both - the fearful never seemed to be picky)

Somehow, despite their appearance as a very blinding body of white and a tall tower of black, they have managed to just blend in to the every day hustle and bustle of this small town. Are they too far out? Not every corner of Wonderland could know the name Lord Makenshi and even if they did - that doesn't mean they knew what he looked like.

His Excellency had only let his leash extend so far out after all and he's only been off the chain for a little more than a year now. There are places in this mismatched world that even he hasn't been to.

So he can't say he knows much about this town or it's people. They seem to be just as mismatched at Wonderland itself is. There are those with horns and those with fox like ears and those with ears that look like bears. There some people with hooves and some with long tails that extend out far behind them.

Perhaps it's because of this, that he has found himself in a place where for the first time in a while, he doesn't have a multitude of eyes staring at the seven horns upon the crown of his head. Though, even if there are other beings with horns here - he's never seen any with quite as many as he has.

It's nice however to be able to shop in peace. To slowly browse through the wares of their bazaar without wondering when he'll need to run next all because someone recognized one of them from those damnable wanted posters.

Gaudium really had it out for them, didn't they?

Jade eyes are scrolling over the items of a local fruit stand when his ears perk and he can't help but notice the sudden building tune in the air. There is a beat in the background of this town's bustle and he can feel it's rhythm starting to make it's way from his horns into the rest of his form.

It's harm to resist. He can hear strings and chimes. He can hear the sounds of some sort of woodwind coming into the mix but once the hand drums join the party, the prince finds himself swaying his hips ever so slightly with the tempo as he hums.

And it continues to infect his form as they walk. Pulling away from the stand he was perusing only to venture deeper into town to find an inn, yet before the Misterican is even away the cadence of his steps has picked up a very noticeable rhythm.

The swaying of his form far more noticeable than it has been before and how long it's been since he's heard such an infectious tune. Oh what kind of wizardry is this? It's an unfair but effective way to trap any Misterican because the heartbeat of the cosmos is spoken through song and those with mist forged souls struggle to resist it's call.

Even as his twin soul walks next to him, the prince is finding himself getting lost in those vibrations further and further the deeper they walk into town and the closer the beat becomes. It's almost as if his body has become entranced as he moves.

Shifting his hips and timing his steps. Hands have raised to snap fingers along with the song. It's been so long since he's heard any form of music like this and it makes his body itch with the urge to make some of his own. Fingers tingling with the desire to play those drums himself and he half wonders if the locals that own them would be so kind as to allow him to do so.

He doesn't have it in him to ask, he's too caught up in the display keeping time to the beat. Each step sat down with intention while the swordsman continues to hum right along as if he's heard this tune a million times before instead of hearing it for the first time today. He can't remember when his ears were filled with such melody.

It's alright if he enjoys himself a little right now, isn't it? Sure there are eyes on them now but it is hardly because of who they are as it usually would be but instead because the cloud of white is holding himself so well to the rhythm.

The inn has to be around here somewhere.... though he doesn't really mind if it takes them a little longer to find it.

||| Perhaps @kazeofthemagun should be looking for them - the prince seems to be in a world all his own....

#v; cloudy rhythm #kazeofthemagun #at your side forever i shall be || kazeofthemagun #tw; long post

[wardenparker]

Starting Over - Chapter 10

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Recently arrived in Texas and only slightly removed from his divorce, Marcus finds himself smitten with the women at the housewares store that is helping him furnish his new Austin condo. It becomes a more complicated situation than he could have expected, but Marcus has never been one to shy away from a challenge when love is on the line. ✨This fic takes place *before* the events of The Mentalist.✨  

Rating: Mature Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this fic will include divorce, past abusive relationships, deceased mothers, father issues/family trauma, unplanned pregnancy.* Cursing and food mentions, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader, argument/fighting, serious drama and angst ahead. Summary: Returning from your vacation is a rude awakening, as Amanda has taken a giant new leap toward being even more horrible. Notes: With just a few chapters left, we are really hitting high gear as far as drama goes!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

Austin traffic really isn’t that bad, although Marcus drums his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. Eager to be home and wishing that he could recapture a few of the blissful moments of this weekend with you. A TV is in the back of his car, bought so he can set it up on that gorgeous dresser you helped him pick out, so the two of you can watch Netflix on a bigger screen than your laptop. Maybe curl up with some Thai or tacos, whatever you and the baby were craving with the bedroom door firmly locked, and Amanda banished to the other side.

This weekend was everything he imagined and more. Both of you had hated coming back, just because it meant that you weren’t in that little inn or just wrapped up in the three of you. More names on the list for the baby, and more ideas for that nursery to be when an unwanted guest vacated the room. It was perfect, and like all perfect vacations, he now had the post vacation blues. Ready to get home and see your beautiful face and caress your stomach.

The sound of crying from upstairs the second Marcus steps into the house is not good. Amanda isn’t home, thank god, but you definitely are and that is definitely the sound of you being inconsolably upset in your room. Forgetting about the TV instantly, Marcus is upstairs and through the doorway faster than a speeding bullet just to find you curled up in the corner of the bed you share, sobbing into a pile of tissues. You don’t seem to be physically hurt at all, but this would be one hell of a mood swing if it happened all on its own.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Even though you don’t physically seem hurt, he can’t help but stroke your cheek, checking your body for anything that might give him a clue as to why you are sobbing as he is pulling you into his arms. “Shhhhhhshhhhhh it’s okay.” He murmurs softly.

“I had one safe space!” You sob openly, unafraid of being judged by Marcus for overreacting when you know damn well that this is a perfectly reasonable reaction for what happened today. His arms are your only safe place now - the only place she can’t hurt you. “And she fucking stole it in three goddamn days!”

He is completely confused, but he knows who she is. “What happened baby?” His mind races. Had they fired you? It doesn’t seem likely, since you had just told him the other day how short staffed you were, and you were one of the most competent they had. But he also knows that Amanda is a talented actress and a liar.

“Do you wanna know where she is right now?” When your eyes flick up to his they’re full of anger and betrayal, a mix he’s never seen from you. Not even the day Amanda showed up on his doorstep.

Nodding, his stomach rolls with the possibilities but he knows if he understands what the problem is, he can try to fix it.

“She went out and got a job.” The words come out through gritted teeth. You’re so angry you could spit fire, if only you didn’t feel so hopeless. “At Crate & Barrel.”

“Fuck.” Releasing a heavy sigh, Marcus closes his eyes and pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry.” He strokes your arm, trying to soothe you. He knows it’s on purpose, there’s no way that it’s a coincidence.

“She must have heard me telling you about being short staffed before we left on Thursday.” Fingers digging into his arms, you tug as close to him as possible and just let the tears fall. You love your job, and even the company, and after so many years working for them it feels like a complete betrayal. “And they fucking love her.”

“She’s good at hiding the rot underneath.” He reminds you softly, letting you cry. As much as he hates to see you in tears, he knows you need to let it out. “I’m sorry baby. I’ll talk to her. I promise I’ll try to fix this.”

“She’s not going to quit.” When she had cornered you in the empty break room halfway through a mild panic attack, she had even told you as much. “She told me p-point blank.” When was the last time you cried like this? Maybe when your mother died? That was the last time you felt truly hopeless. “She’s going to be a goddamn model employee until either I’ve quit, or you’ve signed over the trust.”

“Fucking bitch.” Marcus hisses under his breath. He’s fucking tired of his ex-wife trying to ruin his life all over some money. “I’ll – I’ll call the lawyers.” He promises. “This is harassment and malicious intent at this point.”

“What did they say?” He had met with them today; you remember being hopeful when the day started.

His sigh is a bit defeated. “She’s refusing to sign anything. We have to go to court.” He shakes his head at the utter gall of the woman. “They are trying to get it on the court calendar as quickly as possible.”

“Fuck.” A silent sob wracks through you making you shake a little in his arms as you cling to him. “She doesn’t stand a chance in court, right? Please tell me she’s not going to win…” The money is nothing at this point. Neither you nor Marcus actually wants it, but that just isn’t the point. The point is that Amanda has done everything but outright attack you to get it and at this point you wouldn’t even put that past her. The point is that you’re now so angry that you want her to walk away from this attempt to ruin your lives with a broken spirit and an empty wallet after wasting everything she has on lawyers.

“No, she’s not.” Although Marcus can’t be one hundred percent sure. There was always the chance of having the wrong judge in the wrong mood to believe Amanda. “It’s just going to take more time, is all.”

“This is so fucked.” You mumble, wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms as you steadily avoid his gaze. “I’m sorry, baby. This isn’t what you needed to come home to.”

“You didn’t need to find out that your one space had been violated.” Marcus closes his eyes and sighs again, hesitant to bring up the idea, but he knows he needs to. “If you want to go back next door— I won’t be mad.” He murmurs softly. “I’ll understand. You deserve to have some space from her.”

“No.” There’s absolutely no way you’re going to give Amanda even a molecule of victory, and running you out of your own home would be a hell of a lot more than a molecule. “She doesn’t get to win in any way. I’m not going backward.” It does, though, make you look up at him. “What if I went back over there even for a single week and you missed the baby kicking for the first time? I couldn’t live with myself.”

God, he loves you. Marcus hugs you just a bit tighter. “Okay, but— let me know when you need a break. We’ll get a fucking hotel room if we have to. Just for a night.”

“We could go see my dad soon?” It’s the happiest thing you can think of right now - going back up to New York to tell your dad he’s going to be a grandfather - and if that’s the positive thing you have to look forward to then you’ll cling to it with both hands. “Nothing was out of place after this weekend, so I don’t think she’s going to try property damage if we go out of town again.”

“Let me know when you can get a few days off and I’ll make it happen.” He promises, kissing the top of your head.

“I’ll call him tomorrow while she’s at work.” You nod a little and sigh. “She’s training for the next few days, so at least I can assign someone else to do that. But…if she decides to complain about me to our store manager, I just don’t have the loyalty built up with this new guy that I had with the manager that hired me. It’s…baby, it’s scary. I don’t want anything to happen to my job.”

“Do you want me to have a talk with them?” It’s a long shot, but there’s the chance that the badge he carries will assist in giving him credibility beyond your fiancé.

“I don’t think it would do any good.” The way she manipulates, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already woven a sob story for your coworkers. “But if she gets bad, I might take you up on it anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” He never expected this. Amanda hated working retail and had made that very clear when they were dating. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Combing your fingers through his hair in the most soothing motion you can manage, you resettle in his arms and try to steady your breathing. “None of this is your fault. She’s evil.”

The entire situation makes him feel impotent. Like he is unable to support you or protect you because of the chokehold Amanda has on the entire situation. “Since she’s out of the house, do you want me to cook dinner?” He asks softly, wanting to make you feel better. “Throw away some of the gross shit she’s bought?”

The clock on the wall reads six o’clock and you nod slightly, feeling guilty that you felt too terrible when you got home to have anything ready for him. It’s not like he expects it, but he always lights up a little extra when he feels taken care of. Loved. “She’s closing tonight…we have a couple of hours until she comes back.”

“Good.” Marcus kisses your temple again and starts to pull himself away, wiping at a few tears that haven’t dried yet. “We will be able to enjoy more than one room in our house tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll get scheduled for all closing shifts so we can have a couple of hours to ourselves from time to time.” Letting him out of your sight isn’t an option. Marcus is your anchor, and you force yourself to sit up in bed and try to shake off the unease so you can go downstairs with him.

He chuckles and holds his hand out to help you up. “We can only hope.” He shoots you a grin. “Hopefully she gets the worst shifts.”

“Maybe she’ll just be terrible at the job and not make it past her probation period.” Does it make you awful to hope that that will be the case? You really can’t tell.

“Or she’ll immediately remember why she hated retail and quit.” He doesn’t understand why she would want a retail job other than to torment you, she had worked on an office for years. Unless she had burned her bridges in her profession.

“We can only hope.” Down the stairs and into the kitchen, Marcus grabs an oversized trash bag and opens the cupboards, starting to pull out the things that Amanda accumulated over the weekend that make you sick. “Do we still have spaghetti in there?” You ask Marcus, moving to the freezer to see if the bag of meatballs you bought last week is still there or if she got rid of them in a purge of things you enjoy.

“The jars are here and unopened.” Marcus grunts, pulling out a jar of your favorite sauce and holds it up happily. “Spaghetti and some garlic bread?”

You groan in delight when you discover the bag of meatballs is still hidden in the bottom corner of the freezer and pull them out to inspect. No tears in the bag, no evidence of Amanda tampering. “Looks like we have a full dinner.”

“Perfect.” Marcus dumps the shrimp chips into the trash bad and curls his lip when he pulls out the tin of sardines. “She hates this shit.” He turns and smirks at you as he throws it away. “But I guess that just means her insecurity is even more than her hatred of mustard packed sardines.”

Even the phrase ‘mustard packed sardines’ makes you gag, and you grimace heavily as you situate yourself on a stool at the kitchen island. Your phone in your pocket buzzes and you brace yourself for a work call, but are pleasantly surprised when the caller ID screen shows your favourite photo of you and your dad from his birthday a few years ago. You had managed to talk him into one of those stupid cone-shaped paper birthday hats and the cake you had baked him sits on the table in front of you. “Look at that. Serendipity.” You hum, waving the phone at Marcus before you swipe it open. “Hi Dad.”

Marcus feels a bit nervous as you greet your dad. In that way that he felt when he broke his mother’s rules or defied the guardian’s curfew after she had died. He knows he’s done nothing wrong, but the man who had loved you from before birth might claim otherwise and he doesn’t want to cause issues between the two of you.

“Been a little while since I heard from you, honey,” your dad’s voice has that same rough quality to it that it always has, from a lifetime spent yelling at animals and farmhands and his own rambunctious kid. “I thought I’d give you a call.”

“I was going to call you tomorrow, actually. But this is perfect.” The beaming smile and thumbs up you aim Marcus’s way are sincere, and you reach to give his hand a squeeze when he looks nervous. “I was wondering if you had some time for me to come visit soon? I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Someone, huh?” There’s the distinct raspy sound associated with scratching stubble that Marcus is very familiar with, and he wonders if the older man is rubbing his cheek or his chin as he talks into the phone. “What kind of someone are we talkin’ about?”

“His name is Marcus.” You fully expect your dad to be a little skeptical, but there is also no doubt in your mind that he’ll end up loving the man you’re going to marry. It’s just a matter of getting them in the same place to meet. “We’ve been together a few months now.”

“And you’re wanting to bring him home to meet me, huh?” The notion isn’t lost on him, you’ve never brought anyone home since you’ve left, before or after Eric.

There's a smile etched in your voice, and you aim a reassuring wink at Marcus. "I figured you might want to meet the man I'm going to marry." The baby news can wait until you're there in person, but you don't want your father mistaking what you're doing in bringing Marcus home. You're not asking for permission; you're asking them to give each other a chance.

“Marry?” The shock in his voice is clear. “I— are you sure?”

"Yeah, Dad." You have to hold in a little laugh, but you're beaming across the kitchen island at Marcus. "I'm sure. He asked me this weekend and I said yes."

If he’s upset that he wasn’t asked for permission, he doesn’t voice it. “Come up whenever you want.” His voice is just slightly rougher. “I’ll be proud to meet him.”

"You're going to like him." Although you can all but straight-out guarantee it, you know that tone of his. There's disapproval below the surface, and you want to nip it in the bud as fast as you can. "I'm going to take him to see Mom while we're there. Just...he lost his mother, too. So he understands how hard it is. He's a good man, Dad."

There’s a slight pause, shifting on your father’s end as he absorbs that new information. “Alright.” He says after a moment. “Let me know when you’re coming up and I’ll make sure there are fresh sheets on the bed.”

“Thank you.” You practically sigh in relief, giving Marcus another thumbs up in the kitchen. “Can I call you tomorrow to let you know? I just have to see when I can get a few days out of work.”

“That sounds good, honey.” He shuffles again. “I should go, need to check on some things before dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you.” The expression of victory on your face is a tad obvious when you stuff your phone back in your pocket, but you don’t care. “He said whenever we want to come up, just let him know.” You tell Marcus. “And that he’d put fresh sheets on the bed. Which is basically my Dad’s equivalent of rolling out the red carpet.”

“Fresh sheets huh?” Marcus can’t help but grin at that bit of knowledge. Obviously the basic niceties of hosting could be overlooked if your father didn’t like someone.

“He might give us a little shit about not asking his permission first, but I have a feeling the baby bump will make all that sass melt away on sight.” By the time you manage to get up there you’ll definitely be showing, and the look on your father’s face when he sees you is going to be priceless. “He’s going to be so excited.”

“I hope so.” He bites his lip and sends you a smile. “Since the baby’s coming whether he likes it or not.”

“He’ll be over the moon.” You can promise Marcus that much. “The only thing he wants more than me to come home to the farm is grandbabies.”

Marcus smiles. “Well, I’m glad I can at least give him grandbabies.” He murmurs, leaning over and kissing you after tying off the trash bag. “I’ll go throw this away and start on that spaghetti you want.”

“You don’t have to wait on me, baby. I can get dinner started.” The idea that he exists to serve you just because you’re carrying his baby has never sat well with you, even when it’s a joke that Naomi sometimes tosses around now. You can certainly get off your stool and make dinner yourself, just like you would have if today hadn’t included several separate sob sessions.

Marcus pouts slightly but he doesn’t ever want to curb your independence. Instead he nods, “I’ll take this out and then I’ll make you a cup of your herbal tea.” Another find at inn were several flavors of teas you enjoyed. Marcus had to bring some back of course.

“Thank you, baby.” A kiss in gratitude as he passes you, and you start getting the evening meal together on the stove. After having to watch your back at work all day it’s actually freeing to just move around your own kitchen a little, and you exhale slowly but surely - reminding yourself that this is not forever. She will be gone soon enough, and you and Marcus and the Pike-ette can begin your lives together in earnest. As a family. Not a haunted or traumatized one.

The trash bin is up front and Marcus groans as he sees a familiar car pull up. “Fuck.” He hisses, hurrying back into the house. “Heads up, she’s back.” He tells you as he comes back into the kitchen. “Maybe she got fired already.”

“We’re not that lucky.” You roll your eyes, remind yourself to breathe, and steel yourself for whatever might come. Sometimes sales associates were sent home early when things were especially slow, but considering it was her first day that was suspect. “It’s okay, love. We’re just going to cook and eat our dinner like reasonable humans. Even despite the inevitable interruptions.”

“I know.” Still, he comes over and gives you a reassuring hug from behind and kisses your neck. “I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you, too.” There is no hesitation in your voice, and you’re certainly not quiet, making sure to add too so that when Amanda walks in the door and hears you, she knows that Marcus has said it first.

Snorting to herself, Amanda rolls her eyes when she hears the sweet sentiment. Of course you would try to play up wherever feelings you think he has for you. “Darling I’m home.” She calls out as she clicks her way into the kitchen wearing a pair of heels that didn’t belong on a retail floor.

“I’m going to focus on dinner.” You tell Marcus softly, because you know if you don’t put your mind elsewhere, you’re going to use your shit on Amanda.

Marcus nods, shifting to where he is facing the doorway as Amanda sails through with a smug smirk on her face. He frowns. “Already fired?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or did you do the right thing and quit?”

“Don’t be silly.” Amanda reaches out to touch Marcus’s arm as she laughs off the idea. Does she despise retail and every inch of that horrible store? Of course. But she hates you far, far more. And if putting up with retail is what it takes to get rid of you, she’ll do it. “I love it there!” She hums brightly. “Everyone’s so welcoming.”

He doesn’t snatch his arm back, but he does quickly move away from her touch, “I want you to quit.” He tells her directly, tired of beating around the bush and how it’s affecting you. “Today.”

“But sweetheart,” she puts on her best look of innocence, placing one hand to her chest like she’s somehow shocked that he would ever suggest it. “However will I adjust to our new life here if I don’t find fulfilling work and make new friends?”

“Go back to Portland.” Marcus tells her for the thousandth time. “And talk to your lawyers. They aren’t happy you keep misrepresenting the facts.” He hadn’t missed the heavy sighs during the meeting.

“I’ll happily go back to Portland when you’re ready to come with me.” Getting him away from you has been nearly impossible since you moved in, and it’s making it a lot harder to convince him that you’re digging for gold when you keep being so disgustingly sincere all the damn time. At least she could have a good laugh over your so-called engagement ring. Sapphires? And so small, too. He didn’t even have the dedication to buy you a diamond, so at least she knew she was getting somewhere. Just not fast enough.

“I am staying here.” Marcus breathes out slowly, like he is explaining yet again. Losing his patience as you studiously try to ignore her with your back to the stove. “With my fiancée and our child. Give up, Amanda. We are over. Forever.”

The screaming frustration in her mind never makes it to her face, or the way she shakes her head in utter sympathy. “Til death do us part, darling, remember?” She bats her eyelashes for good measure, knowing that he always got off a little extra on the whole innocence thing. “It will all be ‘forgive and forget’ when you’re ready to come home to your wife.”

“If you will sign the damn papers you won’t be my wife anymore!” Marcus hisses, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t get it. You cheated on me and you expect me to just come back to you? What kind of doormat do you think I am?”

“It’s not your fault that you’ve been confused by her,” Amanda insists, laying a hand on his shoulder. Truth be told? She hates this whole fucking charade. He’s maybe a Seven on his best days and she’s a goddamn Twelve, and she shouldn’t have to pander to someone so below her. But that damn trust and everything in his bank account makes him a Ten, so the suffering will be worth it as long as she wins. “She’s a manipulator and a con artist, leading you astray just like she tried to do with me.”

Marcus just stares at her for a second before he shakes his head, disgusted that he ever was enamored with someone so…conniving. “Get your hand off of me.” Marcus tells her, speaking slowly and clearly. “I’ve told you I don’t want you touching me.”

“You’re stressed, honey.” Amanda continues smiling, reminding herself not to lose her shit and flip out no matter how aggravated she feels. Whatever long con you’re playing to get Marcus’s money, you’re using tears and the pregnancy. She doesn’t have that luxury. “Why don’t we order some dinner and sit down together? Reminisce?”

“No.” Marcus’s eye starts twitching, understanding why the lawyers were begging Marcus to relent on the trust. If they were dealing with half of this, he would be just as desperate. “We, as in my fiancée and I, are cooking dinner.” He tells her. “You can order whatever you want.” He had specifically started making sure that leftovers were marked for lunches. He isn’t feeding her too. Staying here was already enough. Too much, really.

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea, sweetheart?” Realistically, Amanda is well aware that Marcus is going to sit down and eat peasant food with his little hussy and then disappear into their lock room with her to do whatever it is that they do which obviously isn’t intimate in any way. But this is not about winning the battle. It’s about sewing the doubt that wins the war. “Eating what she cooks for you, I mean? It’s just…I saw her flirt with customers today, honey. I saw it with my own eyes. And you’ve already been hurt so much.”

His heart clenches, not for the fear of what you would do to him. He’s very aware of how you feel and that your heart is his, just like his is yours. No, his heart hurts because a woman he had loved was trying to use the way she had hurt him against you now. He hears your angry inhale and it pisses him off even more. “Get out, Amanda.” He growls, watching her set down some god-awful smelling cup she had in her hand.

“Now, honey.” Her head tilts ever so slightly, surprised to get anger from him instead of hurt. “What would the lawyers say if you kicked me out of our home?”

“My home.” He corrects, nodding towards you. “Her home. Not your home.” He is fucking done with today, done with her. She made you cry and feel vulnerable, and he’ll be damned if he is going to let it continue. “Go out to dinner. All your food has been thrown away.”

“Oh,” she tuts, annoyed at more money she really doesn’t have going down the toilet in his attempts to defend you. “What a pity. I’ll have to do some shopping tomorrow, I guess. After work, of course.”

“You’re not bringing any more of that shit in the house.” He points a finger at her, his brows pulled down. “I know what you’re doing and it is fucking ending now.”

“I’m providing sustenance for my husband.” She contends, trying to keep her voice from raising. Marcus so rarely gets actually angry that this is quite a sight to see.

“Sustenance.” Marcus sneers the word and rolls his eyes. “I don’t eat fucking sardines packed in mustard and you know it.” One camping trip early on in their relationship proved that when he had had too much to drink and ate a tin of them. It hadn’t been pretty, and he doesn’t touch sardines at all unless they were in Caesar dressing. “It’s all a bitchy move to make her sick.”

“I couldn’t possibly keep up with all her mood swings and cravings or supposed cravings.” Every once in a while, just to rile him up, she likes to insinuate that you’re lying about your pregnancy. Just to see how he’ll react. And tonight it’s anger, which is much more fun than when he mopes. That flash of testosterone in anger is fairly sexy, as far as Amanda is concerned. “She seems perfectly fine when you’re not home to perform for.”

God, it’s so rare that Marcus loses his temper. He doesn’t like it - doesn’t like the man he is in those few moments. However, in this moment, he doesn’t care when he’s pushed to his limit by the insults, the innuendo, the vileness and the fucking stress of the drama she is forcing the two of you to play out. His hand is around the cup, some specialty cup with the logo of the company on the front, hurling it and the contents towards the wall before he’s even processed he’s reached for it. “Get out of my goddamn house!” He bellows, face furious and chest heaving as the cup hits the edge of the counters and shatters, splattering the drink everywhere.

“Marcus!” Amanda’s reaction is more flustered than upset or shocked, almost like she enjoyed making him mad. From the doorway to the kitchen, though, you can smell whatever heavily pineapple-and-something-vile drink she had in that cup and you know in your (currently swirling) gut that it was destined to go all over you before the night was over. Marcus yelling isn’t something you think you’ve ever seen before, and you’re frozen in the doorway for longer than you’re proud of by the shock.

“If you preferred to spend tonight alone, all you had to do was say so.” Amanda hums, knowing she never would have let him get away with saying something like that to her. To his wife. No, instead she takes out her phone and quickly snaps a photo of his beet red face and her destroyed cup as evidence of his anger and tucks it away again with an almost pleased arrogance. “You’ll regret getting angry,” she tells him point blank before heading upstairs to her room.

“Son of a bitch!” Marcus sighs, shoving a hand through his hair again and turning towards you, filled with instant shame when he sees you wide eyed. “Fuck, I’m sorry baby.” He rushes out, raising his hands up and showing you he’s calmed down.

“It’s…it’s her.” You won’t necessarily say it’s okay because you don’t know if she can use that against him somehow in court once the camera footage is entered into evidence, but you offer him a place in your arms and rub his back gently. “She wanted a rise out of you, and she got it. I’m sorry, love.”

“I shouldn’t have….” Marcus sighs again and shakes his head. “Let me clean up that mess and I’ll finish dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod a little, holding him tight until he lets go first. The length of a hug should always be determined by the person who needs it most, or so you’ve come to believe. “Everything’s going to be okay, love.” You murmur, kissing his cheek softly. “It’ll be you, me, and the Pike-ettes forever.”

“I’m sorry.” Marcus leans back and gives you a serious look. “I hope you know I would never hurt you. I’ve never hurt Amanda. Never laid a hand on her.”

“Of course I know that.” That had never even been a thought in your mind. Even now, as angry and hurt and frustrated as he is, what did he do? He raised his voice and broke a cup. That might be considered escalating behavior for some, but for your Marcus? That is the escalation. It’s as bad as you’ve ever seen and you’ve seen him under the worst stress of his life, aside from losing his mother. “You’re not violent or prone to outbursts, or anything like that. I know that.”

“That’s all that matters to me.” He sighs in relief, his shoulders slumping under the weight of that being lifted.

“I can clean that up if you need to sit and clear your head.” It’s a small offer to make, even if the smell is making your stomach heave. The sacrifice is minimal if it means Marcus will feel better. Clearly today hasn’t been easy on either of you.

“No.” Marcus shakes his head. “It smells horrible to me; I know you won’t agree with it.”

“What the hell did she put in it?” You can’t help the way your nose wrinkles as you back off from the concoction. “Vinegar and death?”

Marcus gives a small chuckle and bobbles his head. “I think so. But who knows.” The front door opens and closes and Marcus sighs. “Thank fuck, she decided to actually listen.”

“You think she’s actually gone for the night?” If so, you hate to think where she’s gone. Sure, there’s plenty of hotels in the city, but what if she’s already made friends with someone at work? Found an ally who isn’t aware that more than three quarters of the things that come out of her mouth are lies? Work will be worse than hell if she starts turning your coworkers against you.

“No.” Marcus grabs the roll of paper towels and the disinfectant to start cleaning up around the broken cup. “She doesn’t want me happy and everything she said was to target that. She’s showing her hand.”

“Outlasting her is the dream at this point.” You roll your eyes, knowing it will never happen. Amanda is a kind of greedy that only existed in legends before her. “Let’s have dinner and then we can watch a movie in bed? I think I’ve got my nightstand configured perfectly for my laptop by now.”

Marcus grins as he looks up at you from down on the floor. “Yeah— uh, about that.” He huffs. “I may have bought a smart tv for our bedroom. So we can actually watch tv in bed and not on your laptop.”

“Baaaabe.” The pout you aim at him is soft – grateful instead of chastising. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” He gives a small shrug and a smile. “I thought about taking the TV out of the living room but was half afraid she would try to come into the room and lay between us to watch TV.”

“Well, it will come in extra handy when your giant baby has me on bedrest.” You roll your eyes at him playfully as he drops the used paper towels and broken bits of travel cup into the garbage. “I’ll be watching rerun after rerun of Say Yes to the Dress and weeping over how beautiful all the brides look.”

“Soon enough you will be saying yes to the dress and crying about how beautiful you look.” Marcus wipes down the wall and floor one last time and puts the supplies away to wash his hands.

“Naomi wants to take me shopping this weekend now that we’re officially engaged.” In fact, your best friend has been completely insistent about it. And since you no longer had the lack of a ring as an excuse to put it off, you had agreed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she wants to take flight to New York just to go to Kleinfeld’s.”

“If that’s what you want to do.” Marcus nods with a smile. “Any time away will be good for you.” He knows how draining having Amanda around is for you and he’ll encourage a girls’ weekend if it helps you.

“Honey, no.” You shake your head adamantly while you pop the tray of garlic bread in the oven. “I am not flying to New York to look at wedding dresses, that’s insane. There are plenty of dress shops in Austin.”

Rolling his eyes, he walks over and drops a kiss on your shoulder, hand sliding over your stomach. “Only doing it once, so you should have the dress you want. Maybe something one of our girls will want to wear when they get married.”

“How dare you use our unborn daughters against me.” It’s not even a real pout, or a real protest, and you smile at him indulgently. “I’ll have a look at their website if it will make both of you happy.”

He snickers and leans in to drop a kiss in your lips. “Imagine how much worse it will be when we are holding said daughters.”

“You’re going to be wrapped around their little fingers, so it will be up to me to be the realistic one.” But even that makes you grin, knowing you’ll be just as over the moon about each of your babies as he will be. “Or at least I’ll have to try my hardest.”

“We will just have to balance spoiling them with making them understand respect and manners.” Marcus winks at you. “I think we will be pretty good at it.”

“I hope so.” With a shrug, you lean into Marcus’s side and place a kiss on his lips. “Do you want to bring the new TV in when you take the trash out and we can set it up tonight? Dinner will be ready in just a couple of minutes.”

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus sends you a mischievous look. “I’m going to sign out of all the streaming channels on the living room TV and change the passwords.” He chuckles.

A flash of pettiness flashes in the amusement on your face, and you nod in support of his plan. “We should move the DVD player, too. See how long she lasts before she can’t watch her Grey’s Anatomy and Sex and the City box sets.” If any small inconvenience is enough to drive her a little crazy, you’ll do it. At this point she more than deserves it.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri

Starting Over: @spideysimpossiblegirl @inspiringmelodrama @pedrilf @thevoiceinyourheadx @goodgriefitsawildworld @badassbaker @rebel-fanfare @canadianmaebe @amneris21 @kulicny @nagassia @bruxasolta @elfwriter1088 @mrsparknuts @graciexmarvel @maryfanson  @what-iwish-you-knew​ @karlawithacapitalk​

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #The Mentalist #Mentalist fanfic #tw divorce #tw unplanned pregnancy #pregnant reader #tw deceased parent #tw adultery #mentioned not shown

[avacynthia]

Why did you pick up this muse?

Ever since I started indie RPing in 2020, I have always tended to find myself writing minor canon muses (Clair, Jupiter), muses who are 'sillier' (Barry, Marlon), or OCs that occupy minor roles within the Pokeverse.

I did this because I love expanding on minor character lore, and I love giving my thread partners the spotlight and support to shine and build out their arcs. But, deep down, I was also scared to play any bigger roles. For some reason, I felt like I wasn't 'worthy' of playing these larger roles, even though I wanted to (The pandemic, mixed with academia's impostor syndrome, did not help there. I was just...hanging in there, clinging onto my writing.)

Fast forward to last year, and something just...clicked in my life. Maybe it was finally therapy. Maybe it was routinely dragging my ass to the gym. But I started saying 'why not?' and 'why worry?' and yes to infinitely more things. Playing tabletop games? Yes. Slowly opening up to more people and being more spontaneous? Yes. Embracing my strengths and doing what I want creatively? Yes.

So, enter Cynthia. When I finally picked her up as a muse, there was no hesitation--it just felt like a no-brainer. Why not? She's always been my favorite champion, and now I finally feel confident enough to write her here, and it's been a total blast. I feel like my minor characters are thriving too--see Bruno, and lately Pike Queen Lucy--but Cynthia feels like a culmination of a journey to me, inside and outside of RP. In many ways, she feels like my 'final' muse, if that makes sense. I can't wait to keep playing her and others, and I can't wait to see what's next for me. ❤️

#ooc #(got a bit emotional reflecting and writing this ngl. thanks gio. you always come in clutch with these 😊) #(dont know where im headed next. but for right now? its all good)

[foli-vora]

Here we go! It's here! I'm freaking out.

It's such a huge thing for me because, to be honest, I didn't think I'd get 500 followers, let alone fucking 3 thousand... so I'm a little like... what the actual fuck. LMAO. Very thankful for you. All of you.

So let's get fluffy. Angsty. Horny. Whatever you want, I'm gonna try my best!

Requests are open!

♥ Pick a prompt!

Pick from any of the prompts on this list. One, two, four - idm! Or think of your own!

♥ Pick a mood!

What are we lookin' for, babes? You want sweet, tooth rotting fluff? You want me to rip your heart out? You want your pelvis turned to dust? You want to pick and mix? Just let me know!

♥ Pick a character!

I've added a list of the characters I write for below! Pick your fancy and send it on through!

And please specify reader! I want to ensure it's properly tagged and labelled for others.

They'll range in length - it'll all depend on the mood and what strikes. I don't have a closing date in mind, I guess I'll just see how we go! Please keep in mind I am a whole ass person over here with my hands full of life so patience will be appreciated. I'm super excited for this!

Love Foli xo

Pedro fandom:

Frankie Morales; Dave York; Javier Pena; Pero Tovar; Marcus Pike; Din Djarin; Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels; Ezra

Marvel:

Matt Murdock; Frank Castle; Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley

DC:

Rick Flag

Triple Frontier:

Benny Miller; Will Miller

Top Gun:

Rooster

#foli's 3k #boosts are appreciated #and rewarded with a soft kiss to the forehead #we're gonna ignore the few left i still need to do on my 1k ok?? #don't shame me #my mind literally refuses to cooperate with me every time i open them #it's pissing me off BELIEVE ME #i didn't want to tag anyone because i don't want to bother anyone LMAO

[mariacallous]

Some see gefilte fish as a delicacy, others as something too disgusting to contemplate. Either way, it would probably appear on most people’s short list of classic Ashkenazi foods. For good reason. It’s been part of the Eastern European Jewish diet for hundreds of years.

The funny thing is that gefilte fish didn’t start out as a Jewish food. The first mention of gefuelten hechden (stuffed pike) comes from a 700-year-old, non-Jewish, German cookbook. In it, poached and mashed fish was flavored with herbs and seeds, stuffed back into the fish skin from which it came, and roasted. It was a popular dish for Catholics during Lent, when eating meat was forbidden.

By the Middle Ages, that Catholic dish had migrated into the Jewish kitchen under the moniker gefilte (stuffed) fish. The rabbis considered fish to be the perfect food to kick off a Sabbath or holiday meal, since fish symbolize the coming of the Messiah and fertility. Plus, for the Jewish communities in Germany and Eastern Europe, it was easy to gain access to the fresh, sweet fish that is ground to make the dish. They were surrounded by well-stocked rivers, streams, and lakes.

Gefilte fish even satisfied some religious commandments. It is prohibited to light a fire and begin cooking on the Sabbath and most holidays. Gefilte fish, happily, can be made in advance of the Sabbath day, chilled, and eaten cold. There is also an injunction against picking bones from flesh on the Sabbath, as one might do when eating fish. With gefilte fish, you get the fish without the bones.

The downside of gefilte fish is that it takes a lot of time to prepare. That pain, though, is offset with economic gain: You need a relatively small amount of fish to feed many. Before the ground fish is cooked, it is mixed with seasonings, egg, and either bread or matzah meal to bind it and stretch the fish a little further. In poor families, the family cook might ask the fishmonger for just the fish head, skin, and bones. The skin would be stuffed with bread and other fillers, the bones and head would flavor the broth.

Given how time consuming it was to grind the fish and then return it to the skin, a new kind of stuffed fish eventually emerged — one that wasn’t stuffed at all. The name remained; the method changed. Fish was shaped into patties and poached in a seasoned fish broth.

Over time, gefilte fish became synonymous with the shtetl and with Sabbath and holiday meals. There were many permutations to the dish, some of which signaled where you were from. German Jews made it out of pike. Polish Jews used carp and/or whitefish. British Jews used saltwater fish like cod or haddock. Jews from southern Poland and northern Ukraine served a sweetened fish, since sugar beets were plentiful there. Lithuanian gefilte fish was heavy on the pepper. The Jews of Russia and Belarus put beets in their poaching liquid for a pink-tinged fish and broth.

As the Eastern European Jews left their shtetls, they brought their cuisine with them. Many of us have heard stories of fresh carp swimming in bathtubs on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. They were purchased from the fishmonger early in the week and left to frolic in the tub before their home sacrifice. Thursday’s fresh carp became Friday night’s first course. And it heralded the start of the Passover seder, too.

Over time, gefilte fish lost some of its appeal. Did you really want a carp in your bathtub waiting for its end? Did you really want your home reeking of the malodorous scent of fish? For some, preparing it was a triumph of old school cuisine. Others were happy to move on.

And that’s when some enterprising Jewish businessmen moved in to fill the gefilte fish void.

Shortly before the Second World War, Sidney Leibner, the son of a fish store owner, began selling ready-made gefilte fish under the name Mother’s Fish Products —first canned, and later in glass bottles. Mother’s was joined by Manischewitz, Mrs. Adler’s, Rokeach, and others. Old World met New in mass-produced jars of gefilte fish.

The bottled stuff was just palatable, but in the late 1970s, consumers were offered the chance to make their own, fresh gefilte fish without the fuss, muss, and odor: frozen loaves of ready-made gefilte fish swam in to save the day. All you had to do was boil water with carrots, onions, and celery, then pop in the frozen loaf.

As many of us have begun to look back to our roots, the food of the shtetl has made a comeback in recent years. Millennials Jeffrey Yoskowitz and Liz Alpern are leading the way with “their mission to reimagine Eastern European cuisine.” Their cookbook, “The Gefilte Manifesto,” is filled with old-world recipes including herbed gefilte fish, baked terrines of fish, and poached gefilte “quenelles,” as well as the original deal: Old World Stuffed Gefilte Fish.

As author Stephen King once wrote, “Sooner or later, everything old is new again.” As it is with life, so it is with gefilte fish.