#I have in fact done this on at LEAST 4 occasions

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

I’m Tweekposting. Again.

So this episode of Things That Have Absolutely Happened To Tweek Tweak That I Definitely Didn’t Pull From My Real Life:

A general headcanon I have for him is that he’s ambidextrous because he’s really scared of losing an arm and he HAS to be prepared just in case. He’ll be around someone who doesn’t know him well, and they notice him doing Tasks with both hands. So they’re like “dude are you right or left handed?” And Tweek goes to tell them that he’s equally bad with both hands, but he sucks at talking so he says “I’m anorexic”. That is NOT what he meant to say.

So he’s like “GAH I MEANT TO SAY AMBIDEXTROUS!!! IM AMBIDEXTROUS NOT ANOREXIC!” And the person he’s talking to is like oh my god has this guy ever interacted with a human ever

[helioscopepdx]

The Schweizer Guide to Spotting Tangents

A fantastic resource from friend-of-the-studio @schweizercomics, who wrote this guide back in 2011. Read on for a goldmine of information (and visual examples) about avoiding tangents in your work!

Comic art is, as a general rule, a line-based medium. I know, I know, there are plenty of artists whose work is painted, or who depict their subject in ink using solely light and shadow. But these folks are unquestioningly in the minority, as the history of printing technology originally dictated the use of line to depict form in the early days of comics. This became a stylistic expectation, and it’s an expectation that I enthusiastically embrace, as have many others. But using line to draw the world invites chances for that cardinal sin of composition: the tangent. 

A tangent is when two or more lines interact in a way that insinuates a relationship between them that the artist did not intend. It can create confusion on the part of the audience as to what it is that they’re looking at. It can cause the spatial depth that one attempts to cultivate through the use of planes to become flattened. Most of all, it creates a decidedly unwelcome aesthetic response: tangents are just plain ugly. There are a lot of different types of tangents, as least according to the way I define them. In order to make it easier on my students when giving critiques, I’ve categorized them and named them. This may have been done before, but I’ve not encountered it. My hope is that, by making this “spot-the-enemy” guide, fewer artists will fall into the tangent trap by knowing what to look for.   

1. The Long Line

The long line is when a line from one object runs directly into the line of another. This is the tangent that everybody knows. The one that’s easiest to spot, easiest to avoid.  For a lot of folks, this is the only thing meant when one refers to a “tangent.” Even in the work of the very best comic artists, a vigilant eye can find the occasional tangent.  Even when a cartoonist is constantly on the lookout, a tangent can slip through.  But, as each of strive to better ourselves and the quality of our work and our medium, 

2. The Parallel

The parallel tangent is when the containing lines of two objects run alongside each other.  This causes one of two negative outcomes.  Either one object becomes “lost,” as the other overpowers it (figure 1), or one object feels strangely contained by another (figure 2). This can be avoided by ensuring that any object that COULD run alongside another is angled at least 45 degrees from the first. The next two are REALLY tough to spot, and most artists have fallen victim to them before.   

3. The Corner

The corner tangent is when two lines in an object meet in a way intended by the artist, but another (accidental) line runs directly into the place where they meet.   

4. The Bump-Up

A bump-up tangent is when the containing line of one object “bumps up” against the containing line of another object.   When these two lines touch, it creates a bump-up tangent (and even when they don’t technically touch, if it’s close enough to raise eyebrows, they might as well).  The bump-up gives the impression of containment.  In figure 1, it seems as though her ponytail is physically unable to enter the space occupied by the pole.  In figure 2, it feels as though her elbow is unable to LEAVE that space.

Also, be careful not to let elements of the drawing bump up against your panel borders!  Either give them room to breathe or decisively crop them.   

5. The Directional

A directional tangent is basically just a long-line tangent that’s been broken by empty space.  Now, this one isn’t always bad – it can, on occasion, be used to draw the reader’s eye through the image on a specifically determined path.

6. The Panel-to-Panel

This one is exactly the same thing as the directional (in fact, I shouldn’t even classify it as its own thing), save that instead of empty space dividing a long-line it’s a panel gutter. My gutters are crazy wide, but with normal-sized gutters this can be a real problem.   One more thing… This ain’t a tangent, but it is a compositional no-no. 

Fake Panels

Comics generally have panel borders, so readers are used to having images contained by straight lines.  Some artists don’t allow gutters between their borders.  Though I believe that, as a rule, this can make it harder for new comics readers to follow the story (and new readers are always important), it’s done with enough regularity that we must expect the audience to feel comfortable with gutterless pages.  What does this mean?  It means that we can’t draw a straight line in any panel, either vertical or horizontal, without having some object overlap it.  If we do, readers may think that it is a panel border, incorrectly breaking one moment into two.

See how the overlap of the elbow causes there to be no question?

That's it for Lesson #1!

[dark-frosted-heart]

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 4/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. 

(—I didn’t expect this)

Alter!Keith: You don’t even look sleepy.

Emma: You’ll be surprised by how gutsy I can be.

Alter!Keith: So you’re saying you didn’t cry during the fight or when people were hurling insults?

Emma: Well…I wouldn’t say cry, but rather, I’ve gotten so angry I thought I’d explode.

Alter!Keith: Wish I did something about that. Would’ve been interesting to see you rage.

Moonlight dimly lit the room.

Prince Keith was sitting on my bed, staring down at me as I lay on my bed.

The way it felt like he was watching my every move made me so nervous, I wondered if he could hear my heart beating. 

Alter!Keith: … Sorry.

(...For what happened back at the estate, I’m guessing)

(I have a feeling he’s not used to apologizing)

The way he awkwardly looked away was so different from how cold he was toward the nobles. I felt some sort of adoration.

Emma: Just words?

Alter!Keith: Is there something you want?

Emma: I want you to sleep.

Alter!Keith: You’re still worried about these dark circles? Too bad I’m not feeling sleepy.

Emma: You might fall asleep if you just close your eyes.

Alter!Keith: I’m still not done dealing with those people, so there’ll be trouble if he comes to the front. …Well, causing trouble would be convenient for me.

Prince Keith snickered at that and I couldn’t sense his true intentions.

Suddenly, everything that happened today flashed before my eyes.

(Wicked Prince Keith didn’t have any obligation to put so much effort into taking over government affairs and work)

(The reason why he does what he does is for the sake of the nice Prince Keith)

(So much more than I could ever imagine…He only lives for the nice Prince Keith)

(Probably never for himself)

I tried to hold back the tears that started to well up as I continued to think about how he supported the nice Prince Keith all by himself, without anyone being aware.

(I’m frustrated by the fact that I can’t do anything to help, even when I’m right beside him)

(But I don’t want to keep being someone that can’t do anything)

Alter!Keith: Hm?

I sat up on the bed and turned toward him.

I then gently placed my hands over Prince Keith’s ears.

Alter!Keith: What are you doing?

Emma: Warming your ears can help you calm down and relax. There’s too many unpleasant feelings today and I want to make them go away. …Please let me at least do this.

(I want to help lift this burden, even if it’s just for now)

Alter!Keith: …

Prince Keith’s sigh melted into the dimly lit room.

Seeing the somewhat vulnerable look on his face after he released his pent- up emotions loosened the strings tightened around my heart.

Alter!Keith: That guy’s future fiancee sure is softhearted.

Emma: …How did you know?

Alter!Keith: You don’t look like the type to invite someone else to your room when you’re engaged.

A bony finger traced over the engagement ring on my finger that had two jade stones of different colors.

Alter!Keith: If you really are his fiancee in the future… Is that guy finally smiling?

(...This was what he wanted to ask back in the study)

Though he asked nonchalantly, there was an underlying desire in his voice.

Emma: …Yes, he’s smiling. So, so much. Every day, from morning to night, he’ll smile on various occasions. Whenever our eyes meet or we pass by each other, the smiles reach his eyes…Ah, when we made sweets the other day, I got so shy with how much he smiled. It was so cute… And before we sleep—mmph.

Alter!Keith: I didn’t tell you to gush about it.

(Hmm, I was doing that)

I nodded and he removed his hand from my mouth.

Alter!Keith: Well it sounds like he’s happy…else there’d be no point in me being around. … That guy came back.

(Ah…)

Emma: Even you smile just as much as him.

Alter!Keith: Huh…me?

Emma: Of course.

Alter!Keith: What…I didn’t disappear?

(Ah, I thought so)

~~ Flashback ~~

Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.

~~ End flashback ~~

(It’s been on his mind this whole time)

(The way he said it, he assumed he didn’t exist anymore in the future)

Since his very existence was supposed to be impossible, it’s only natural for him to think that way.

(But I don’t want him to assume that)

(I want Prince Keith of the past to know he has a future)

Emma: In the future, I’m engaged to both Prince Keiths. I love you both and you’re both more important to me than anything else.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: That’s why I don’t want you to think you’re someone that will disappear. I won’t let you think that. I want you to remember that the both of you will be loved by a stubborn, greedy woman.

When I loosely laced my fingers with his, he awkwardly responded back.

It looked like he believed me.

Emma: I’m still new to it, so there’s only so much I can do to help you. But I definitely will become a strong woman who can support you.

Alter!Keith: You’ve already done enough. Actually, I… Your words saved me.

The last time I saw Prince Keith, he looked childish and at peace.

--

(Mmm…I’m in…)

Instead of moonlight, it was sunlight that streamed into the room through the windows. I squinted at the brightness.

When I sat up and looked around, I found myself in Prince Keith’s room.

(Everything that just happened was all a dream)

(It was a pretty realistic dream…my heart still aches a bit)

Alter!Keith: Thought you weren’t in your own room. You were here instead.

Emma: Ah…Prince Keith.

(Oh yeah. I was waiting for him in his room as he finished his official duties)

Alter!Keith: …

(What’s wrong?)

When Prince Keith came into the room, he immediately made his way toward me and sat on the bed.

He awkwardly patted my head.

Alter!Keith: You look like you wanna cry.

Emma: Ah…Well, I was remembering the dream I had.

Alter!Keith: …That so. Then nothing happened to you.

Emma: Sorry for worrying you.

Alter!Keith: Not forgiven.

Emma: Eep!

After nipping my neck, he wrapped his arms around my waist.

The pain in my chest faded away as he patted my back, similar to the way one would when comforting a child.

(Back then and now, Prince Keith’s kindness never changed)

Emma: Um, so your official duties…?

Alter!Keith: I’m done with them.

Emma: You finished pretty early today.

Alter!Keith: More precisely, I put an end to it. Wanted to spend time with you. Since it’s your day off, there’s no point in my working that hard in the first place.

(You say that, but I know you do your job perfectly)

(...So you want to spend time with me?)

Emma: Mnn…

He tilted my chin and captured my lips with his.

It felt a surge of happiness with love from our repeated touches.

We stared at each other and when I kissed him, he pushed me down onto the bed.

(Wicked Prince Keith has things he wants to do for himself now)

(Use his time for himself, and not for the sake of someone else)

Warmth spread in my chest.

(I want this to keep being the norm for him)

With that wish, I hugged my lover tightly.

[cicerfics]

Q's 10 Favorite Jumpers, Rated and Reviewed By 007

With Rebuttals (and Revised Rebuttals) from the Quartermaster Himself

Gifted to @foxsoulcourt over on Station Pacific, just for being awesome!

Fits Q like a glove and the shade sets off Q's lovely winter complexion. 9/10.

Didn't this ridiculous business of seasonal color analysis go out when I was still in primary school? You're dating yourself, 007.

Well, somebody has to, since you wouldn't let me take you out for a drink last night.

...

Color less garish than usual, but fuzzy texture makes Q look like he's growing mold. Off-putting. At least, as off-putting as is possible for a man of Q's caliber. 6/10.

It's mohair, you heathen, not mold!

And stop talking about my 'caliber' if you

...

The color washes out your complexion. You ought to stick to darker shades, dear. Still, this one fits you snugly and the knit is thin enough that I can see your nipples when it's chilly in the server room. 8/10, it'd look even better on my bedroom floor.

You are no longer allowed in the server room when I'm in there, effective immediately, lest I file a complaint with Human Resources. Stop looking at my nipples. (And there's a phrase I never thought I'd have to use when addressing a colleague at Her Majesty's Secret Service.)

I live to defy expectations.

Color does marvelous things for Q's eyes but the squiggles give me vertigo. 5/10.

Get your eyes checked, old man, and stop blaming my jumpers for your vision difficulties!

Ranking has dropped to 4/10 due to Q's insolence. Be nicer to me, or I'll be the one to file a complaint with HR. Age discrimination is against regulations, my dear.

Stop calling me that

I don't really think you're that old

You do need reading glasses though

I never thought I'd see the day 007 cites regulations to me.

Why are there so many bars and blocks? Why isn't the jumper one harmonious shade of gray? Atrocious. 3/10.

It's comfortable

It reminds me of that time you

Don't lie, I've caught you looking at me when I was wearing th

It's considered artistic, 007, but of course you wouldn't know anything about that.

Grand old warship, Q. Nothing more.

Don't be ridiculous, of course you're more than

...

Reminds me of my grandfather. Deeply disturbing that I still want to shag Q even when he dresses like my grandfather. 2/10, will be reporting the quartermaster to Dr. Wilson for damaging my psyche.

You will do no such thing. That poor woman has enough to bear as it is. Overseeing your routine psych screenings is enough to warrant hazard pay.

I've caught you looking at me in this one too

You don't own this one, but you should. Let me buy it for you, darling. 10/10, would tug you into a broom cupboard during your lunch hour and undo the buttons with my teeth.

What is your obsession with Tom Ford

I don't see why

You say things like this but then you never follow throu

Why did you cancel our dinner the other nigh

I am not the sort of gentleman who permits himself to be despoiled in broom cupboards, thank you very much.

Puts me in mind of those odd little sailor suits posh people used to make their children wear. I think someone put me in one, once, ages ago. 1/10, you already look young enough to make me feel like a filthy old man, no need to make it worse.

I wouldn't mind if you were a bit 'filthier', actua

Well, if the shoe fits.

And you scold me about wasting money with damaged equipment and bloodied suits. Look at the price tag on this. Outrageous. 10/10, worth every penny, you're delectable in this one.

I only bought it to treat myself after

It was my birthday and i

You said you were taking me out for dinner for the occasion but then you

…Thank you.

I'd ask what I've done to deserve this torture, but I suppose I already know the answer to that. 0/10, I will have burned this one by the time you've read this list, and I apologize for nothing.

You know exactly what you've done, yes.

Three million pounds of my department funding for heaven's sake

Not to mention the fact that you canceled our dinner after I

And I hardly bought this to torture you. I don't buy my clothes with you in mind, 007. Don't be so arrogant.

And if that isn't an empty threat and you've actually broken into my flat and destroyed my personal property, I'll have your head.

My. How forward of you, Q. Well, I'll have to insist you take me out to dinner first. Then you can have whatever bits of me you like.

Don't be vulgar, you menace.

Not unless you're going to follow through on

You're the one who backed out of the dinn

Did you really burn it?

It was a threat to national security. Could sear a man's eyes right out of his skull. It had to go.

The cats agreed with me. They didn't put up any protest when I pilfered from your wardrobe.

For heaven's sake.

Then they're getting their least favorite flavor of tinned food for supper. And you're not getting dinner from me at all.

Now, I hope I'm not being punished for cancelling on you last week.

Of course I'm not

I don't see why you

You

...

You're being punished for wasting your day reviewing my jumpers rather than completing your overdue AARs. Please allow me to direct your attention to the rather large pile of paperwork with your name on it.

Sod the paperwork.

Q. I'm sorry I cancelled. You have no idea how sorry. But something came up.

I'm sure it did.

Something to do with the job.

...

Some internal business. Something had to be taken care of.

Somebody had to be taken care of.

...

Mallory told me not to discuss it with any of the department heads just yet. I handled it, but the job won't be declassified until tomorrow. Expect Tanner to call you and the others in for a meeting in the morning.

...Oh.

Well.

You should've told me sooner.

Q, I'm shocked! You're saying I should've gone against Mallory's direct orders and disclosed classified material to you against his will?

Of course that what I'm saying, you filthy hypocrite. You could've told me. I would've been discreet.

I know you would've been. That's not the point.

...

...Bond?

I'm trying to keep you out of trouble these days.

Trying not to be the man who ruins your career.

You've never

If that's how you feel then why

Even if you did, I'd

Rather unflattering that you assume I can't take care of myself.

I can, I'll have you know. And I never asked you to protect me. I can protect myself...and I can protect you in the bargain, thank you very much. I'm rather good at it, in fact.

Well, I can't argue with you there.

...

...?

Suppose we don't wait for tomorrow's meeting.

Suppose I take you out to dinner and tell you all about the whole sordid business tonight.

...You're planning on disclosing confidential intel in the middle of an Italian restaurant?!

Suppose we skip the restaurant.

Suppose I bring a couple of curries round to your flat and we talk about it there.

The flat you recently burglarized.

Let's not dwell on the past, dear.

Besides, I think the cats are warming up to me.

And I've got an overdue birthday present for you.

...Dare I ask what it is?

A replacement for the jumper I burned. A whole new ensemble, in fact.

Something much better than anything in your wardrobe. Much worthier of you. Something to show off those good looks of yours.

Will you let me give it to you this evening?

...Ah.

Well, I was going to ask what I should wear when you come over, since you have such strong opinions on the matter.

But if you're bringing a new outfit along, perhaps I shouldn't bother to put anything on at all?

Darling, I always said you were a genius.

19:00 tonight, your place. I'd say 'dress to impress', but I think your idea is best.

There's no improving on perfection, after all.

Do you really

I want you to

For God's sake, if you don't make good on your promises this time, I'll

19:00, then. I trust you know the address

Please try to be on time, 007.

For you, Q?

I'll be early.

[antiphilosophia]

Crowley's pre-fall name is BARAQIEL (THEORY)

THIS POST MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS OR RATHER CLUES FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 2 CONTENTS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION 🤍

Very well. Who doesn't love the Crowley is the Archangel Raphael theory (I am certainly of those people who do). During my first watch of Good Omens S2 I was even somehow almost confident that that was the case.

However, my second, more careful, viewing of this lovely (but equally heartbreaking) season made me change my mind, likely for good. In episode 4, Furfur's book "Demon's Guide To Angelic Beings Who Walk The Earth" shows us a name of a certain angel Baraqiel. (see photo below) Knowing Good Omens that can hardly be a coincidence.

Unfortunately, the very text is quite unreadable. One thing, other than the name, which is pretty clear is the subheading "Angel of the Sky" and since the episode 1 lets us take a look at how Crowley did indeed take part in creation of what is to be seen in the night sky, one can hardly find that entirely non-fitting. One other sentence I was (at least I think) able to read is "Often draped in red."

(On a different note but certainly worth noticing are scribbles that generally just roast Crowley – his suspiciousness, hair and name (though I am not absolutely sure of the latter) "His hair is bad!" Wow, Furfur really does hate Crowley.)

Then there is something written above the name of Baraqiel, unfortunately in none of the picture frames does it get a bit readable. I wonder though, couldn't it be "former"? Since it comes precisely after mention of Crowley to whom should one report on Aziraphale.

Crowley is very powerful. Dominion

A word that is not exactly readable but can be deduced from its placement (it is situated just as Aziraphale's "Principality") is Baraqiel's rank – Dominion Angel. It should be noted here that I very much lack proper knowledge of either Jewish or Christian mythology and I would hate to provide any incorrect claims. I therefore think it is better for me not to overly state things, even more so since everyone can look into it on their own and figure out what that might mean for our beloved demon. What I will say, however, is that they are (as I understand it) very powerful and, placed within the 2nd triad in the angel hierarchy, ranked higher than the Archangels. This would go well along with the emphasis that was in my opinion laid on Crowley's powers quite a lot this season.

For example: "A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could've performed," said Shax to Crowley, to which he replied: "How'd you know I didn't do it?" He didn't get an answer.

What I think (and I may be very wrong, obviously) is that a miracle of this vastness wouldn't have happened simply because of a regular angel and a regular demon did together half a miracle each. What is also worth noticing is that the tool with which Crowley created the Nebula is the same as the one he used to temporarily stop time at the end of season 1 right before Satan's arrival. So much to the size of his powers.

Baraqiel, lightning of God. Fallen angel

Finally, to Baraqiel himself. My lack of knowledge concerning this matter still stands and frankly I don't even know where to find valid information about angels and such on the internet. Baraqiel should, however, stand for "lightning of God" and is also regarded as the angel of lightning. In season 2 there are (as far as I remember) two occasions where Crowley is put in correlation with lightning. (1) His poor anger management issues in episode 1 and (2) his not at all better matchmaking in episode 3 ("I haven't done weather in ages"). Furthermore, Baraqiel is considered to be the one who taught astrology to people. Nevertheless, what points to Crowley and Baraqiel being one even more is that Baraqiel is indeed a fallen angel.

•

So... That is probably it. I usually tent to theorize about stuff in quiet, in fact, this is the first time I've used Tumblr for anything other than reading Neil Gaiman's posts. I didn't even think that I would actually post it but then I've searched on Twitter, TikTok and here on Tumblr if anyone else has already come up with this theory. The only post I could find (hopefully I haven't missed anything) was by @valaza_04 on Twitter (click here) where they refer to the same frame shot as I do here.

Now I know, we are still recovering from heartbreaking (but if you ask me, absolutely amazing) finale and the main thing currently on our minds is figuring out why would Aziraphale choose as he did and the many wonderful theories that come with it. However, considering the utterly virulent look that Metatron shot at Crowley before walking out of the bookshop with Aziraphale and also his "Well, [Crowley] always did want to go his own way. Always asking damn fool questions, too." makes me think that he absolutely does not care for Crowley and whichever angel he was before the Fall. And I reckon it won't remain unnoticed in season 3 and might even be really important (or that is just me wishing for more pre-fall Crowley scenes). Hence I decided that I will post this. And it doesn't matter if no one will see this in the end, it was quite fun to write. However, if there is someone who will read this all the way through, I hope they will accept my apology for the mistakes I have most possibly made (English is not my first language) and also for the ridiculous length this post has come to gather. It turns out, I am just as chatty of a writer as I am speaker.

Well maybe I will come around to write one more post about this theory, only with a proper research this time. Till then thank you and, please, support this season by streaming as much as you can so we can have season 3 of this masterpiece of a show. And be kind to those bringing it to us in your comments regarding the ending, even though it is very frustrating and heart-shattering, it is also maybe the best ending we could have hoped for with the prospects of season 3.

Thank you for letting me talk my heart out, Tumblr.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 9

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 17.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Surprises, vomiting, anxiety, spectacularly bad decision making, talking of children/pregnancy. Morning sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, consensual choking, light dom/sub play, rough sex. Summary: Your 30th birthday is not at all what you expected. Not at at all. Notes: Beloved darlings, please forgive any errors I might have missed. Ya girl has had another busy week, but at least the sickness has lifted!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

It’s been a perfect, magical day in Marcus’s opinion. Waking up with you and spending the entire day together hasn’t tamed the desire to be with you, it’s only fanned that desire. Now he gets to watch you get ready for the party, stopping by his apartment to pick up a suit, you had both decided that he would change here at the inn with you.

“So, is this place actually a pub or did my mother book something swanky and just lie through her teeth?” You ask, eyes gliding down his frame as you slip into your least worn little black dress for the party. It’s the one you always think is just a little too festive or too vintage, and it always gets swapped out for something more reasonable. Marcus had insisted you wear it when he heard you say ‘too’ anything.

He smirks slightly and debates on whether or not to tell you. “You have to be surprised, but yes.” He chuckles. “I think Round Robin counts as a pub.”

“It is not Round Robin.” It gets a laugh out of you, though, making you snort inelegantly as you struggle to zip your dress. “Their food doesn’t meet Dad’s approval. He’d never okay it.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we are actually going to Statesman.” He admits with a grin, moving over to zip up the back of your dress for you and kissing your shoulder when he’s done.

“Statesman…” In the second it takes you to search your memory for why that name sounds familiar, you light up. “Like The Statesman Club? I’ve always wanted to try that place!”

“Good.” He grins at you and picks up your necklace to help you put it on. “We will try all the fancy whiskeys we want.”

“Well now I just feel positively spoiled.” Partially from the choice of location, but also Marcus being such a gentleman.

“It is your birthday.” He reminds you, sliding the chain around your neck. “You should be spoiled.”

“And when it’s your birthday, you’ll be spoiled too,” you promise him, grinning at his reflection in the mirror.

“We can cross that bridge later.” His hands rest on your shoulders gently. “Tonight is about you.”

"Are you still okay with me telling everyone?" If he's not then you'll keep your soulmate status to yourself tonight, or for however long he wants to keep that particular fact private.

“Of course I am.” He stares at you in the mirror, unable to believe what a lucky bastard he is. “You never need to worry about that.”

"I just thought I should check." You beam at him, turning around in his arms to wrap your own around his neck and kiss him. "Seemed polite to me."

“Shout it from the rooftop and splash it in the Post.” He urges you. “I will happily agree and brag to everyone who asks.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you seriously consider doing just that but figure somebody at The Post will have a field day writing their own little editorial about it when it becomes public knowledge. "I love you, too."

“I love you.” He promises and bites his lip. “Do you want your birthday present now? Or at the party?”

"You didn't have to get me anything." There's no chance he would have listened to you if you had protested beforehand, but you still do. Just having him is gift enough.

He scoffs and lifts a brow, waiting for your real answer.

The burn in your cheeks is enough, and you grin again, unrepentantly. "Is there enough time to do it now?"

“Of course there is.” He promises and pulls out the gift he had put in his jacket pocket. It might be too much too soon, but he couldn’t resist.

The small jewelry box all tied up in ribbon in his hand is unmistakable, but you tilt your head slightly and look up at him curiously. "Really?" A book maybe, or flowers, or even something a little nerdy and sweet – all of those things you would have accepted easily. But jewelry is a very big gesture for a relationship that is so new.

“You said you also jump in quickly and I— well, it’s what I’m thinking.” Marcus hopes you don’t hate it.

You take the little box from him carefully and untie the carefully done ivory ribbon. The hinge of the box is tight, like it's barely been used, and when it snaps open in your fingers you gasp softly at the shining, shimmering ring inside. An eternity ring of sparkling heart-shaped stones set in white gold reflects the light in your room beautifully. "Marcus?"

“It’s a promise ring.” It seems like a childish thing at first, but he wanted you to know how serious he is. “The prelude for what is to come.”

And just like that, your heart swells for him all over again, and the surety that you made the right choice is ingrained in you. "I'll never take it off."

“If it fits.” He jokes, taking the box from you and plucking the ring out of its velvety crevice. “This is my promise to you, my soulmate.” He whispers as he takes your hand. “One day I will marry you. We will build a life together of mutual respect and love. We will be happy and I will always cherish you.”

"Am I allowed to promise you the same thing?" You watch in awe as the band slips easily onto your finger and you flex your fingers to see if it will shake free. When it doesn't, you beam at him all over again. "To promise to love and cherish you and be your partner while we build this relationship?"

“Absolutely.” He smiles softly and leans in to press his lips to yours gently. “Happy birthday, hummingbird.”

"We should go." Even whispering against his lips, you feel giddy and giggly in the moment. "Before I drag you back into bed and make you even more promises."

“Promises, promises.” He teases. “That is for tonight when we are both a little tipsy, very handsy, and more than a little in love with the idea of being together.”

The drive out to The Statesman Club goes easily and quickly, with Agent Bailey following behind you all the way. From the amount of cars in the parking lot it's obvious that your mother had Marcus bring you to the party after everyone had arrived – or if not then there are a huge amount of people coming tonight. "Seems like an awful lot of fuss," you hum, slipping your hand into Marcus's when he opens your door.

“You’re worth the fuss.” He reminds you, helping you out of the car and he can’t help but admire you. “I forgot to tell you that you look stunning.”

"That's just because I'm happy," you insist, tugging him toward the front of the building. "And because you look absolutely stunning yourself, so I'm just reflecting it back at you."

He chuckles, knowing that he could argue that but it’s your birthday and he can’t argue with the birthday girl. “Remember, you can’t butter me up anymore.” He jokes. “My bag is already at your place; I’m going home with you.”

"What if I'm just telling the truth?" It's like walking on Cloud 9 as you go hand-in-hand with him up to the front door. There's a desk inside with a woman in all black, and she smiles to see you coming – clearly expecting you but too professional to do more than smile.

Marcus gives his name as if he were the one setting the reservation, but they know where to guide you. “Good evening.” She moves from behind the desk to come out beside you. “My name is Ginger and I will be escorting you inside.”

"Thank you, Ginger." It's all very dramatic, you think, but you still follow the woman around a corner and past the main dining room, up a flight of stairs that is dimly lit to put focus on decades and decades of Statesman ads that ends in a set of double doors. This must be their private function room, because the moment she pushes open the doors, all hell breaks loose.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!” Is screamed at you in various pitches and volumes, making you jump slightly even if you had been anticipating it. Marcus laughs, drawing you into the circus of a room as your friends and family press close.

“This is what not overdoing it looks like, huh Mom?” You’re laughing, though, and hug her first out of everybody in the room. You know how impossible it is for her to get to do anything personal already so it’s doubly amazing that she not only put this together but managed to attend.

“Of course it is.” She hugs you fiercely and tears up slightly as she remembers the day you slipped into the world. “It’s small compared to the inauguration party.”

“Which inauguration party?” There were three official ones and then plenty of other unofficial, and you smirk at her even when you pull back. “I can’t believe this place let you book in. It must be crawling with Secret Service.”

“Just a few.” She snorts and shrugs. “I’m the President. It’s time I stop letting the office run my life.”

“Well, thank you.” That resolve won’t last because it can’t, but you’re glad that it is here for tonight.

Your father is next to swoop in for a hug, cooing over his baby being all grown up, and you groan playfully because he gets like this every single time one of you has a birthday. You, Alex, and June all get fussed over equally and it’s actually kind of sweet. Tonight, though, you reach back and take your soulmate’s hand. “You guys remember Marcus?” Of course they do, but you’re still going to be polite about it.

“Sir. Ma’am.” Marcus would offer his hand, but you are currently holding it. “Nice to see you again.”

"Very nice to see you again, Marcus." Having dispensed with Agent Pike except for formalities, the president smiles. "And very punctual. I like that."

“Timing was important tonight.” He agrees, squeezing your hand gently. “The birthday girl needed to be here for the party to really begin.”

"Then let's get this party started." The phrase sounds just as odd and stilted coming out of her mouth as she thought it would, but that doesn't matter. "Make sure you say hi to everyone, Birdie. And try whatever you want to drink. But I think you'll like both cocktails."

Marcus smiles and nods toward the private bar for the party, a fit cowboy with a mustache behind the counter with a toothy smile and a name tag with ‘Jack’ on it. “Shall we go get a drink before you mingle?”

"Absolutely." Whatever your parents have picked out is always good, and you want nothing more than to get the night started.

“What do you want to have?” Marcus asks as he reads the small, personalized cocktail menu that is being served exclusively tonight in addition to the regular drinks.

"The Sour Red sounds good." Cranberry and cherry in a whiskey sour sounds like a great way to start the night.

"It sounds great." A voice from beside you huffs, and you squeal with delight to see your best friend appear out of nowhere next to you. Sydney grins and envelops you into a gigantic hug, as Marcus smirks proudly behind you.

“You look amazing!” The soft, flowing maternity dress is the first of its kind you’ve seen her wear and it looks gorgeous on her, making her look like a work of art. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” She insists, shaking her head at you. “Juan said he’s going to treat you to lunch when he comes back, and he’s so sorry.”

“Absolute sap of a man,” you huff, laughing affectionately. Juan really does treat you like a little sister sometimes and it’s very sweet. “He doesn’t have to do that. But…if he really wants to…” you glance back at Marcus with a giddy smile. “Why don’t we plan a double date?”

“That sounds good.” Marcus nods. “What do you think, Sydney?” He’s willing to do whatever you want and having a night with the other couple would be nice.

“Oh, one hundred percent.” She’s already nodding, clutching her ginger ale in one hand and grinning to see the two of you together like this. “That will be awesome.”

“I’ll order the drinks so you ladies can talk?” Marcus orders, squeezing your hand when you nod and moving up to the bartender.

"I don't know if I said it enough, but you did the amazingly last night. The wedding was perfect." You hug her again, always mindful of your growing goddaughter between you. "I owe you."

“It was all thanks to you.” She reminds you with a soft hug. “Looks like you had a good evening after the wedding party left.”

"Maybe." The meager protest has your cheeks on fire immediately, and you bury your face in your hands. "He's...god, Syd, he's absolutely incredible."

“Really?” She lights up, happy that you are so enthralled with your soulmate. “So you had a really good night?”

"I need you to promise me that you're going to react in the most normal way you've ever reacted to anything in your life," you murmur, intentionally lowering your voice and glancing around furtively. "Most boring reaction ever. Promise?"

“Boring – absolutely.” She nods eagerly, aware you’re about to bust unless you spill whatever secret has you positively glowing. “He’s the best you’ve ever had? Hung like a horse?” She guesses playfully.

"Haven't actually had sex yet, but yes to the second." The smirk that breaks over your face is unapologetic, but you clear your throat, and intentionally reach out to hold your best friend's hand with the ring Marcus gifted you a mere hour ago glinting in the club's lighting. "Most normal and boring you've ever been," you remind her quietly.

Her frown when she feels something makes her look down and then her eyes bug out wide, making her look like a cartoon character for a brief moment. The smallest squeak comes out before she buttons up her lip and her entire body seems to vibrate in energy as her gaze darts back up to you.

"It's a promise ring." As quietly as you can when Sydney is practically buzzing out of control, you're still grinning from ear to ear. "I told you he's incredible."

“I can’t believe— okay, I can.” She huffs quietly and as discreetly as she can, she’s looking at the ring. “Honey, it’s beautiful.” She whispers softly, melting and giving Marcus Pike all the brownie points for romance.

"I don't know when he had time to get it," you admit, trying not to bring too much attention to the piece of jewelry and end up having to explain it to a whole room full of people. "We were together all day."

“He must have bought it the day he went golfing with Michael.” Sydney guessed with small, dreamy sigh. “They were talking about Michael’s buying a wedding day gift for Joyce. He was planning on jewelry.”

“That must have been it.” It’s even dreamier, then, in your mind. Because that truly was the very beginning of things.

“He’s got good taste.” She hums in approval. “This is the real deal.”

"It's the first time in my life that I've really felt like I'm on the same page as my partner," you gush to her, right before Marcus comes over with your drinks.

“One Sour Red for you.” Marcus hands you the drink. “And I ordered the Sweet Delight for me so we can also try it.” He has no problem sharing drinks with you.

The second cocktail on the specialties list was something like a cross between a sweet tea and a mint julep, and since you had fully intended on trying both, he seems to have read your mind. "Perfect." Him, the whole day, tonight, all of it.

“Great.” He holds up the Sweet Delight in a toast. “Happy birthday, hummingbird.” He smiles. “May your thirties be the beginning of the greatest adventures of your life.”

"I have a feeling they will be." You hold up your Sour Red and Sydney adds her ginger ale to the coast, making the three of you a very happy trio.

“Now, I don’t want to monopolize your night.” Marcus insists after taking a drink. “I can hold your purse, but you need to talk to people and if you want me to keep Sydney company, I’m good with that.”

"I'm going to use having to find you as an excuse to get out of saying hello when I start to burn out." It looks like your mother has assembled a few dozen people here tonight and you know you're going to need to take a break from all the chit chat at least a couple of times. "Thank you, love."

“Absolutely.” He smiles at you in reassurance. “Just lift your glass and I’ll come rescue you.”

“Okay.” Leaning up, you leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth and whisper an “I love you” before you scoot away.

Marcus watches you walk away with the look of a man completely besotted with his soulmate. “I love you too.” He murmurs after you.

“That didn’t take long at all.” Sydney grins, sipping her soda like she’s won the lottery.

“Too quick?” He glances back at your best friend and wonders if she worries about you jumping in too fast with him despite being your soulmate.

“Not for her.” She chuckles quietly. “Hell, even Juan and I knew within about two days that he was going to come back East with me after we met. It’s just…it’s nice to see someone moving her speed with her. Supporting her at light speed, ya know?”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” He promises Syd with a solemn vow.

“Oh, I know you’re not.” Her smile turns determined and icy. “Because if you do? Juan knows exactly how to make sure no one ever finds your body. And I think you value life too much to risk the wrath of her best friend and her siblings. Don’t underestimate little Junie.”

Marcus doesn’t scoff, nor does he chuckle and brush it off. He takes a sip of his drink and looks at your best friend squarely. “I won’t, and I never piss off the people who cook food.” He tells her. “They have ingenious ways for disposing of a body.”

“She’s been through a lot of shitty relationships.” Sydney confides. She’s glad to see Marcus taking this talk seriously. Sam had laughed and waved her off. “Listen to her, treat her well, and buy her flowers. That girl loves getting flowers.”

“What are her favorites?” He asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you want out of this relationship.

“Camellias, roses, gerber daisies…” Sydney grins. “I’ll text you a list.”

“Please do.” Marcus can do roses anytime, but he wants to give flowers that let you know that he’s just thinking about you. Ones that put a smile on your face. “And her favorite bath soaps and scents.”

“I’ll have a list of favorites and least favorites ready for you tomorrow,” she promises. “But I have a big one for you, first.”

“What’s that?” He knows Sydney likes him, thinks that he will be good for you, so it’s best that he stay on her good side.

"I've never seen her prouder to be out with a partner than she was with you at that State dinner," Sydney tells him honestly. "She gets skittish about the spotlight, but she collected every single paper that had a picture of the two of you. It's..." she smiles, actually, and her eyes find you in the crowd of family and friends around the room. "It's a kind of confidence that is new for her, but I think it's great."

Marcus follows her gaze and his own face softens and he takes on a slightly sappy smile. “I only want to support her and prop her up.” He promises your best friend earnestly. “Whatever she wants to do.”

"She has the career she wants. And now the right partner." Syd flashes a beaming grin. "Next up is the wedding and kids, Pike. I hope you're ready for a deluge of family fun."

“I’ve always wanted kids.” He admits quietly, pushing one hand into a pocket. Taking another sip and his eyes follow you around the room. “Don’t mind a wedding, but I’m more concerned about the life we build rather than the wedding we have.”

"She says she doesn't care about a wedding. That it's the marriage that counts. And she does mean it." More than anything, Sydney needs Marcus to know that this isn't any shallowness on your part, it's something she's observed. "But I see the way she moons over every single bride that comes through the inn. She wants someone to make a fuss over her without her having to ask for it. It's why she's been sighing over this birthday party like it's unnecessary but has been talking about it nonstop. Because she deserves to feel special, but she feels guilty asking for it."

“I want her to have exactly what she wants.” Marcus smiles at the idea. “The fairytale. The happily ever after.”

Nudging Marcus with her elbow, Sydney's cup of happiness is positively overflowing for you in this moment. "I have a good feeling about this."

“I hope so. Because I’m taking her to meet my folks in a few weeks.” He tells her with a grin.

Syd’s jaw drops on a disbelieving laugh. “You got her to take time off work?”

“Is that some kind of minor miracle?” He asks with a slightly proud smirk if it is. “I asked if she wanted to come and she agreed.”

“There’s nothing minor about it.” She cackles with absolute glee, knowing Juan will be just as thrilled as she is. “She hasn’t taken a vacation day in seven years. Not even for campaign events. You’ve just advised sainthood.”

“Jesus.” He whistles quietly and has a renewed admiration for your drive. “Then I’ll make sure that she relaxes and soaks up the sun while we are gone.” He grins. “Texas is the perfect place for it.”

“Perfect.” Syd grins, and holds up her glass to toast him. “Take care of our girl, Marcus. I know you will.”

“Of course I will.” Marcus watches as you discreetly lift your empty glass. “Op,” he grins back at her and lifts his own glass. “Duty calls.”

It's just a little later, while Marcus is deep into conversation with your father about something or other that you didn't quite catch, you're slowly sipping your second drink when the nearby door opens to admit a new arrival.

Sam Chase walks into the pub, straightening his jacket and smiling a bright smile at anyone who turns his way. Looking over the crowd and finding you as he scans and lifting a hand in a wave before moving towards you.

It's a surprise to see him, even if you did say that you wanted to stay friends, but you walk toward him with square shoulders and sure steps. More than ever, you know you made the right decision, and you're mature enough not to say a thing about it and just let things move forward. "Sam." When he moves forward to hug you, you let him just like you would let any other friend. "What a surprise. Are you feeling better?"

"I am." He wouldn't miss tonight for the world, not when he realized what he needed to do. He accepts the hug and squeezes you gently to him, admiring your perfume. He's missed that smell. "Happy birthday, Birdie." He uses your nickname so rarely, preferring your name, but tonight is about showing growth.

"Thank you." You're glad to not see a gift in his hands. It's almost a reprieve because you had feared he might do something overly intimate as a gesture if he did actually come. "There's some fun cocktails but the bar is open, and lots of food being passed around. I think cake is happening in just a little bit."

"That's good." He pulls back and smiles at you. "It's good to see you, I've missed talking to you."

"It's good to see you, too." Unfortunately you can't say you've missed him as much as he seems to have missed you, but the last few weeks have been so important for you. "I'm glad you came." At least that is true.

"I know you are making the rounds, so I will get a drink." Sam knows that he has to show that he is more accepting of your way of doing things and he takes your hand and squeezes it gently. "I will get a drink and then talk to you later?"

"That sounds like a good plan," you nod, motioning toward the bar. "I know you're not a whiskey guy, but they do have some nice wines stocked tonight. And champagne. Mom insisted."

"I'll see you soon." He promises, sure that the champagne is meant for the toasting of your birthday after the cake. You will be thrilled to drink it because of another celebration as well.

Alex and David are nearby and you gravitate toward them naturally, glad for some supportive faces in the sea of comfortable and uncomfortable acquaintances. Your mother had really gone all-out with the guest list.

Despite his own conversation, Marcus has kept an eye on you, frowning slightly when he sees Sam arrive. He’s not jealous, but he knows that it would be uncomfortable to you since you had broken up.

"Well that looked fun," your brother grumbles, putting an arm around your shoulders lazily when you pace over to him and his boyfriend. "Mm," you roll your eyes discreetly. "So fun. It's my own fault for saying I wanted to stay friends. I just thought...it's a very adult thing to do. And he didn't do anything wrong, really."

“He did everything wrong.” Alex snorts, rolling his eyes at you. “You just were so busy making it work you couldn’t see that.”

"You guys could have said something earlier, ya know." Still, you shrug and take a sip of your drink. "Not that it matters now."

“You were happy…ish.” Alex arches a brow at you. “Tell me you would have listened.” He challenges, knowing how stubborn you are.

"Listen to you?" Rolling your eyes dramatically for show, you wave a hand dismissively. "Of course not. Maybe David, but not you."

Both men laugh and David winks at you. “That’s my girl.” He teases.

"Everything will be fine." You're definitely reassuring yourself, not them, but that's okay. "Eat. Drink. Be merry. That's the name of the game tonight."

“Of course it is.” Alex leans in and presses his lips to your cheek. “Happy birthday sis.” He hums. “You look happy with your soulmate.”

“As happy as you are with yours.” For everything that Alex and David have gone through together, you know the light at the end of their tunnel is going to be so incredibly bright and wonderful. There isn’t a second of doubt in your mind. “He, um…he’s taking me to Texas in a couple of weeks. To meet his family.”

“Really?” Alex is surprised but he’s quickly grinning as he looks around to find Marcus watching you for a moment. Checking in on you from across the room. “Well slap my ass and call me a cowboy.”

"I'll leave that to David," you reply, snorting at the image. "But yes. Really. And I'm excited, so don't ruin it."

“You better wear a cowboy hat when you ride him.” Alex chuckles quietly and winks at you. “They say everything’s bigger in Texas.”

"I swear to god." Groaning with the ire that only a sister can truly feel, you stick your tongue out at your brother and make a face. "I'm walking away now, but you're ridiculous."

“You know I love you!” He cups one hand around his mouth to call out after you, laughing while his soulmate rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath about sibling relationships.

"Sweetheart," your mother grabs you in passing, seeing that you're headed for Marcus and not wanting to delay you too long. "Cake soon?"

"Sure, Mom." Pausing long enough to squeeze her hand, you nod to indicate you're willing to just go with the flow. The night will last however long it lasts and you're grateful for every second you get to spend with your friends. Thankfully, it seems like cake cutting won't be the very end of the night.

“How is my pretty party girl?” Marcus asks as you draw closer, pulling you to his side and swapping his full drink with your empty one. “You should try this Statesman Blackberry Reserve.” He urges you. “It’s probably the smoothest whiskey I’ve ever had in my life.”

"You trying to get me drunk, Pike?" You tease, accepting the glass and trying a sip – which earns a happy moan from you. "You're already coming home with me. You have stuff at my place."

“But you’re cute when you’re relaxed.” He jokes, smirking slightly considering that you’ve already had a conversation about drunk sex and somnophilia so you are both on the same page about what’s acceptable.

"You're always cute." Relaxed is a good word. You aren't drunk at all. Not even tipsy. But you are definitely relaxed. "Mom's going to have the cake brought out soon. Brace yourself for a deeply embarrassing speech of some kind."

Laughing quietly, he nods. “Of course. Would it not be a family birthday party if there wasn’t an embarrassing speech?”

"In this family?" You snort, barely managing to smother the sound as your mother's voice comes over a microphone so that the whole room can hear her. "Never. But that's my cue."

“Go knock them dead, hummingbird.” He whispers in encouragement and takes your drink from your hand so you can walk up beside her. It’s your night, your time to shine.

As Sydney has pointed out, the spotlight is not necessarily where you thrive. You do step up next to your mother, though, and wave awkwardly with a dopey smile on your face as she talks. The predicted speech is just as embarrassing as you thought it would be, but it’s easier to smile knowing Marcus is out there watching just a few feet away.

Now is the time. Sam watches as you demure to the crowd and duck your head in embarrassment as your mother finishes up your happy birthday speech. He straightens his tie and reaches into his pocket to pull out your gift before he edges towards the front of the room where you and your mother are standing.

Honestly if you had noticed, you might have said something. Or you might have at least looked at him questioningly. But you’re too busy avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes while people applaud a speech about you to realize that Sam has walked right up to where you and your mother are standing.

His entire relationship with you, he had watched you secretly moon over ‘grand gestures’. Sniffling during Hallmark moves or rom coms, smiling like a crazy woman when a proposal happens at your inn. This will be perfect. Your mother arches a brow when he asks for the microphone, but she hands it over anyway. “Good evening everyone, Birdie…” he begins, having carefully written out and rehearsed this speech several times. Preparing for it just as studiously as he would have a political debate.

“Sam…?” Anxiety rises like bile in the back of your throat, almost making you choke on the confusion. What in the hell?

Marcus frowns at the way that Sam turns and kneels in front of you. A collective gasp coming from the crowd pierces his heart and it’s compounded by the way you cover your mouth. Looking just like a scene from a romantic film. His gut churns and confusion and doubt makes the blood start pounding in his ears.

“Get up!” As soon as you can gather your own thoughts to get beyond shock and utter horror, you lurch forward to grab Sam and yank him up off his one stupid knee. “What the hell are you doing?” You hiss, well aware that all eyes are on you but having rocketed past giving a shit out of pure anger.

“I’m making up for my lack of spontaneity, giving you the grand gesture.” Sam smiles proudly and opens the box to show you the elaborate diamond ring that he had bought for you. “I love you, and I want to show you that I am here. You are more important than anything else.”

“Don’t do this.” Even if your voice is low, the shaking of your head is universal, and the few gasps over the opening of the jewelry box are minimally muffled when you reach out and snap the little box closed again immediately. “We broke up. Walk away and return the ring.” The urge to cry and flee is almost overwhelming but you have to make him stop.

“We had a fight, a foolish one.” Sam tells you beseechingly. “One I take complete blame for. But we are so good together. Don’t throw it away because I was too blinded by my pride.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” you tell him flatly, although you do feel bad that you clearly didn’t articulate well enough that the relationship is over and has been for two weeks now. “Please just walk away? I’m not taking you back. Tonight or ever, do you understand?” Even with your heart in your stomach, lurching there like a stone in acid, you can’t bring yourself to be cruel. You’re just desperate to be clear and get it through his head.

Sam frowns and looks around at the people who have started to go from excited to embarrassed for him. “Why?” He asks quietly. “This is what we talked about. What you wanted to plan for? Now you say no?”

“Plans changed. Maybe I changed, I don’t know.” You didn’t. And you know you didn’t. But it seems kinder to say that than to point out that your eyes are opened to how imbalanced your relationship was. “I found my person, Sam. I’m sorry that it isn’t you, but please don’t make this worse than it already is.”

“You’re really going to say no?” Sam looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “In front of all these people?” The microphone has been forgotten at his side, the conversation just between the two of you and he glances over to see Marcus Pike walking away in the crowd.

“I don’t even understand why you thought it was okay to ask.” It’s completely ruined the night rather than just being embarrassing, but one thing is obvious: Sam has turned out to be one of those men who won’t back down at the very worst of times. “No. Absolutely not. I’m with someone else and I love him. End of story.” Like the punctuation that ends a sentence, you hold up your hand to show him the ring Marcus put there just hours ago. “You should leave, Sam.”

He feels like he’s going to be sick. Unable to breathe in that second where a ring is produced and he knows if he doesn’t escape, find air, he might have a heart attack or something. It’s happening again. This time it’s even worse than before because it’s his soulmate. Marcus turns and pushes through the crowd. Hauling ass for the nearest exit as discreetly as he can while everyone else watches the romantic gesture ahead of them. Unable to hear anything but the tattoo of his heart beating out of his chest as he disappears out of the bar.

He doesn’t hear the next round of gasps inside as your birthday has turned into a farce. He doesn’t see Sam rage or crumble. He doesn’t stand and bear witness to you declaring your love for your soulmate in front of dozens of people. All he knows is that he has to get away, but he’s barely at the bottom of the stairs when you go barreling after him. “Marcus!” Thank god June saw him moving blindly through the crowd, she had pointed you in the right direction. “Marcus!”

It’s still crisp and cool when the sun goes down, hitting the doors and gasping like a drowning man when the frosty air hits him and after two gulps, he’s lurching for the bushes. He’s not so drunk he’s puking, he’s so emotional he can’t keep down the drinks and appetizers curdling on his stomach.

“Marcus, wait!” You have no idea what set of doors this is, but you saw him go through it, so you go too, almost twisting your ankle in the heels you’re wearing in the process. “Oh my god.” The second you see him, you’re moving again, reaching for his bent frame and trying to soothe him somehow. The best you can think of is cooing his name and rubbing your hand over his broad back gently.

Agent Bailey is hot on your heels, bursting through the door seconds later and on high alert. “I’m fine—” Marcus grunts, twisting away from you as he continues to empty his stomach. “’m fine.” He coughs and retches one more time before he can catch his breath. “Go back— I—I—” he pants out.

“You’re not fine.” In the three seconds you can think straight, you turn around to find Agent Bailey a few feet away. “Can you find us some water?” You ask her, not sure what’s caused Marcus to be so sick but sure that he’s going to feel worse if he can’t rinse his mouth.

It’s obvious that she’s uncomfortable leaving you, but after a second, she’s nodding and stepping away while speaking into her earpiece.

“It’s okay, baby…” Whether or not that’s true is yet to be determined, but Marcus is obviously in distress and you’re just trying to soothe him as best you can. “Was it something you drank? Or—or ate?” Or was it my ex-boyfriend ruining the entire fucking night for literally everyone?

Marcus closes his eyes, swallowing down another wave of bile and shakes his head. “No— I—” he can’t even articulate the rambling thoughts in his head right now. He feels like he’s lost again and yet you are standing in front of him. Are you here to give him the ring back?

“It’s okay, don’t talk until you’re ready.” While you still have one hand moving on his back, you just try to keep calm and hopefully help him calm down in the process. “Agent Bailey’s finding you some water and we can sit out here for as long as you need, okay?”

“Why—” he swallows and closes his eyes. “Why are you out here?” His voice is steadier, gaining control over his emotions again. “Your party is inside.”

"You are out here." The question makes no sense to you and you're probably looking at him like he has three heads, but at least that's an honest reaction. "Fuck the party. You're more important."

“No, I’m not.” Marcus opens his eyes, looking up at the stars and he has to know. “Did you say yes?”

A single beat of confusion bleeds away to absolutely seething disbelief and your hand stops moving on his back even though you don't step away. "How can you even think I—" And all at once it melts away as recognition dawns and the despair on his face becomes clear. Teresa. Teresa is why he's asking. Why he's afraid and why he's so anxious that he's throwing up in the bushes behind the building. "Marcus, no. Of course not. I didn't even let him ask the damn question. He's a self-centered moron who didn't take being broken up with well, and more importantly there is the fact that I love you."

“You were with him for a year.” Marcus reminds you, wanting so badly to believe you and yet it’s still just beyond his grasp.

"Lots of people are in relationships for longer than they should be," you reason, trying to keep his eyes even with the heartbreak that is obvious in them. "I love you, Marcus Pike. You're my soulmate, and I would trade every single second that I spent with Sam in a heartbeat if it meant getting to change all those memories to ones that include you."

“I’m sorry.” The apology is automatic, closing his eyes again and biting his lip. “This is— I shouldn’t have come out here. I shouldn’t have left your party.”

"You needed air, and you needed to clear your head." If you turn things around and put yourself in his shoes? You'd be losing it in the bushes, too. Thankfully, that is when Agent Bailey appears with a sealed bottle of water and she hands it off to you silently. "I'm sorry I ever said I wanted to stay friends with that man. Hopefully the fact that Secret Service escorted him off the grounds will get it through his head." Gently, though, you tip your head at Marcus and offer him a smile. "If not, I'm pretty sure that showing him your promise ring and loudly declaring how much I love you to about sixty people has probably done it."

“You did?” Marcus frowns slightly, confused as to when you managed to do that before rushing after him.

"I did." You nod slightly, one hand seeking his cheek to try to offer some kind of comforting touch. "And then I realized you weren't standing next to Sydney anymore, and I bolted after you."

“I—" he leans into the touch more than he realizes. “I can’t believe you did that.” He huffs softly.

"You said I could shout it from the rooftops." The reminder comes with a soft smile, as you see Marcus finally start to calm down a little and grapple with reality. "So I did."

“You have to be pretty pissed off at me.” He rationalizes. “All that talk and I’m puking my guts out when someone proposes to you on your birthday. In front of all your friends and family.”

"Baby, if one of your exes had shown up to your party and proposed, I assure you I also would have lost my shit. If not my dinner." Holding up the water bottle, you don't step away from him for a second. "We can stay out here as long as you need to, we can go back in, or we can go home. Whatever you need."

“You need to go back in.” Marcus tells you quietly. “You can’t just leave. All of those people are here for you.”

"I'm not leaving you." In the long run or the short, that sentence is the same.

“I’m not saying you leave me.” He looks at you again and reaches for the hand that isn’t on his back. “Let’s go back inside.”

"We'll sit and sip some water, and if your stomach is still turning we don't have to eat anything else." There is a more than minor chance that people will come up to you both for the rest of the night to want to talk about your soulmate status, but that can't be avoided.

He sighs softly. “You know why I was throwing up.” He challenges softly. “I was having a moment of extreme anxiety.”

"That doesn't mean you'll want to eat anything else, or that your stomach isn't still unsettled." Thankfully he wasn't panicked enough to drop your clutch, so he still has it in one hand and you take it from him carefully. "Here. I have mints and Tums stashed in here. Do you want one, the other, or both?"

He frowns slightly, unused to being fussed over unless it was his mother. “Both.” He decides. “I think.”

"We can do that." Mint Tums and Altoids are produced from your purse without further ceremony, and you wait until he steadies himself and chews his mints before you open your arms to offer him a hug.

He stares at you for a moment before he accepts the hug and pulls you close. “Are you okay, hummingbird?”

"I'm pissed at that idiot for upsetting you, but I'm okay." If he had said you should just go home, you would have gone with him in a heartbeat. Going back into that party sounds daunting at the very least. "What a fucking idiot. I'm just grateful I managed to catch you before you got too far."

“I just needed some air.” Marcus doesn’t know if he would have left, he hadn’t really been thinking— just reacting.

"If you get overwhelmed or anxious again, do you promise to tell me?" He takes your hand and a step or two toward the door at your side, but that doesn't mean he's totally ready to go in.

“I just—” he knows he owes you an explanation. “It felt like history was repeating itself. This time I was getting a front row seat.” He frowns slightly and looks down at the ring on your finger. “And the only thing that I could think of was how much worse it was because it was my soulmate.”

"You're absolutely entitled to have an anxious reaction to what just happened." With his hand in yours, you give it a squeeze and soothe your other hand over his arm. "Is there something I can do to reassure you? Or is this something that's just going to take time to work through?"

“It was just a flash in the pan thing.” Marcus assures you. “But I’ll talk to my therapist about it. So it doesn’t work into something between us.”

"Okay." He's working on himself, and honestly that might be one of the sexiest things about him. For now, though, you squeeze his hand again and head back into the building. "But if there is something I can do, or if I do something that I don't realize makes you anxious, will you tell me? I never want to make our time together stressful or triggering."

“I promise I will let you know.” He is thankful you understand why he freaked out, instead of just assuming he didn’t trust you. “I’m sorry that your birthday was…interrupted.”

"That is absolutely not your fault." It isn't. At all. And you would hate for him to feel that any of the blame is on his shoulders when it lies squarely with Sam. "Just...people are going to have questions. I did flash the ring, so we're going to have a lot of curiosity."

“I’m assuming this wasn’t the way you wanted to announce your soulmate status?” He asks wryly. “Why did Sam think he could win you over by proposing?”

"I think he thought that if he went for the grand gesture, I would just crumble." You sigh as you walk together, climbing the stairs slowly. "If not for you, I might have. I might have settled, instead of realizing that real love is something much more spectacular. Something worth holding out for."

“I’m glad you didn’t settle.” Marcus admits, looking over at you. “That wouldn’t be fair to you. Forget about me, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” At the top of the stairs you kiss his cheek and hold his hand a little tighter. “Now that I’ve met you, I could never forget about you.”

It’s a little surreal to be a priority, making Marcus flush a little more than he probably would, given that he had just doubted you and been proven spectacularly wrong. He’ll definitely call his therapist on Monday.

“Are you ready?” The doors are right in front of you, but you still check in with him first. “If you’re not, it’s okay. I’ll say good night and we’ll go home. Not questions asked.”

“No, I’m not going to ruin the rest of your night.” He shakes his head. “Let’s get a fresh drink.”

Marcus's stubbornness isn't something you want to start an argument about, but after tonight you're definitely going to take tomorrow very easy. "It's not the night any of us had planned, that's for damn sure."

“I would hope not.” He snorts and his hand squeezes yours again, now feeling guilty about leaving you while you dealt with Sam. “I’m sorry for not being there for you.”

"You don't need to be, but I appreciate that. He took all of us off guard." With a confirming nod from Marcus, you push the door to the event hall open and come face to face with a room full of guests who are all a flutter. Your mother still has the microphone in her hand but it seems to be off, and she makes her way toward you immediately with a deep frown etched in her features.

“Birdie.” She is almost sighing in relief when she spots you again. “You ran off, almost losing your detail.” She scolds quietly before she softens. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

"I needed some air." The gentle lie covers the fact that you actually went running after Marcus, but no one can blame you for having a big reaction to what happened. "That was insane."

The president gives a very unpresidential snort. “You think?” She huffs. “I cannot believe that man thought proposing after you broke up was a good idea. I mean, I know he had mentioned something when you were still together, but-“ Realizing who she is saying this in front of, she snaps her jaw closed and sends Marcus a polite smile. “Thank you for being with her.”

"It's not exactly how I was going to tell you about the promise ring," you admit, leaning in to Marcus's side when he offers your mother an agreeing nod. As though to say 'of course' without letting her know that it was actually you who was there for him.

“You seem overjoyed to wear it.” She observes, smiling slightly at the way you are leaning into the man beside you. Drawing comfort and offering it at the same time.

"I am." Without hesitation, and with great pride, in fact. "And I apologize in advance, but I'm going to miss a family dinner in a few weeks. Marcus is bringing me to Texas to meet his family."

“Really?” Her eyes widen slightly and shift over to Marcus as she reappraises him through a new lens. This has just change from potential to reality. “Well.” She smiles. “I am sure that they will love you.”

“We’ll make sure all the plans are approved by Agent Bailey, but…” Glancing up at Marcus beside you, your stomach flips and your hearts pounds. As off kilter as tonight has gone, he’s still standing here beside you. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t take your detail out to Texas.” Your mother considers, looking at Marcus to see what he thinks. “After all, you will be traveling with a federal agent.” She taps the microphone. “Would be bring your weapon and credential when you fly?” She asks him. Marcus nods immediately. “I always bring them.” He explains. “In case I get called out for a case. I don’t have to fly back to D.C.”

“We’ll be near the Dallas field office anyway,” you offer, having cruised around Marcus’s hometown on Google maps with him over a phone call when he was in London and noting the office as you went.

Your mother glances over at Agent Bailey and within seconds, the agent is joining the three of you. “What do you think, Agent Bailey?” She asks, wanting her professional opinion before she makes her decision.

“I would feel more comfortable if it was me, Ma’am.” Agent Bailey shifts in place, as if apologizing to you with her body language. “I’ll station at the field office and be on call. It’s a middle ground, if you will.”

“Birdie?” Your mother glances over at you to see what you think. “How does that sound?”

“That’s fine with me as long as long as it’s okay with Marcus.” You nod, appreciating your agent’s candor. “I trust Agent Bailey more than some strangers.”

“Whatever is needed for Birdie’s safety.” Marcus agrees. “Although, there’s plenty of room for you at the compound.” He tells Agent Bailey. “There’s no need for you to stay in Dallas. Please. Come stay with us.”

“We’ll coordinate with the Dallas office and make arrangements official.” Agent Bailey assures your small group. “Now…I believe there is a cake to be cut, ma’am?”

“Oh shit.” Marcus’s eyes widen when he realizes that you haven’t even had your cake. “Yeah, sweetheart, you need to have your birthday cake.”

“We got a little distracted from the point of the night, I think.” Still placing the blame for that squarely on one person’s shoulders, you offer your mother a smile anyway. “What do you say we get this party back on track?”

“Are you sure?” She glances back and forth between you and Marcus. “There will be a lot of questions.”

“I know there will be.” And you swallow, wondering if it will overwhelm Marcus and make him second guess choosing you. “But I would rather get ahead of the rumor mill.”

“Then perhaps you should announce your soulmate status.” She offers quietly. “People heard you talk about finding happiness, but they don’t know why you’ve moved on so quickly.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” you remind her, just as quietly but feeling a bit childish. That’s what freedom of affection is about. Your choice. “But I will anyway. Because I’m proud of him.”

“What you decide to do is up to you.” She agrees. “I should have had security stop Congressman Chase at the door.”

“Hindsight, Mom.” The best you can do is shrug. “I shouldn’t have said I wanted to stay friends. It’s done now.”

“Yes…” she huffs slightly, knowing that her opinion of the congressman just dropped considerably after his display tonight.

“Why don’t you give me that,” you motion to the microphone in her hand. “And I’ll talk…and you get the cake?”

“That is your decision, Birdie.” She hands you the microphone and Marcus frowns. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything.”

“I have to say something.” Taking the microphone from her, you offer Marcus a lopsided smile before you click on the power button. “Are you ready for this?”

“Whenever you are.” It’s still a theory in his mind, not tangible. You don’t have to declare this—him— it’s enough that you want to be with him.

“I love you.” It’s just a soft hum, but you squeeze his hand before you click the microphone on and raise it to your mouth. “I hope everyone enjoyed the floor show,” you joke, bringing people’s attention back to the front of the room.

Marcus would have let go of your hand, to give you the spotlight alone, but you don’t let go. Making him give a soft smile as everyone looks at you and consequentially, him.

"I didn't think it was going to be necessary to make an announcement out of this, but clearly the fact didn't get through some people's heads." Still trying for the joke, you take a look around the room. Family, friends, co-workers and family friends all surround you with attentive expressions. "It's been a little over a month now, since I met Marcus Pike." Squeezing his hand gently, you smile at the man beside you and exhale nervously. Stage fright be damned. He is more important than nerves. "And it gave me a lot to think about. How happy I was with the current state of my life and my relationship, or how I imaged my future. It became fairly clear to me that I didn't want to envision any future for myself that didn't have Marcus playing a starring role. Which makes sense..." Breathe. You can do it. Just breathe. "Considering he's my soulmate."

Marcus gives a small wave and a somewhat lopsided grin that he is completely unaware of how charming it is. Listening to the murmurs and gasps of surprise as he knows that he’s under increased scrutiny.

"I know I've always been outspoken about freedom of affection." There are more murmurs – agreement from your loved ones. "And this is what I'm choosing. I am choosing to love my soulmate, and to start building a future with him. Apparently that was a difficult reality for my ex-boyfriend to swallow, but I hope you'll all join me in having a slice of birthday cake and celebrating love and happiness until they kick us out of this place."

Marcus could not have said it better himself, so he doesn’t speak. He just lifts your joined hands and kisses the back of yours gently.

Clicking off the microphone again, you hand it off to one of the uniformed wait staff and turn around to find a rolling table with a sizeable two-tier cake on it. Your father is there with a smile on his face and the knife ready for you to pick up. One ceremonial cut into the cake gets a cheer from the crowd and then it's Alex's voice that starts everyone singing Happy Birthday just as loudly as possible.

Marcus is happy that the celebration has turned back towards you and not the proposal. Singing along with the chorus of the song, he grins when you duck your head slightly in embarrassment.

"Thank god that's over," you huff with a laugh, as the waiter rolls the cake away to slice it properly and people start to mill about again instead of just staring at you. Or worse, singing at you. There's a dab of frosting on your finger and you suck it into your mouth with curiosity before perking up immediately. "Mm, cream cheese frosting!"

“Cream cheese frosting is your favorite?” He asks curiously, smiling at your obvious delight.

"Cake is my favorite." The grin on your face doesn't even have a hint of irony to it. "But if you made me choose? Red velvet with cream cheese frosting is pretty much the top of the list."

“As it should be.” Marcus snorts and shoots you a grin. “But, have you ever had a chilled, key lime cake with cream cheese frosting on a hot Texas day?”

"Please tell me that's something your family does," you groan happily. "Because that sounds amazing."

“My aunt makes one every time I come home.” He promises. “I’ve already gotten the text from her asking if I would want her to make one. I always say yes, but she still asks.”

"Your aunt is now at the very top of my favorite people list." The grin on your face comes with burning cheeks, and you lean into Marcus's side with a sigh. "After you, of course."

“Until you taste my mom’s strawberry daiquiri pie.” He teases, leaning in and kissing your nose.

"Are we going to eat our way through this visit? Because I am completely ready for that." The small reprieve you've been given from the curiosity of your friends and family has apparently ended, and the first waiter with a tray of plates of cake comes out and Malachi saunters up to grab a slice right after you.

“You’ll work it off.” He promises with a grin at the concierge as he smirks with the cake in his hand. “Malachi, how are you this evening?” He asks with a slight chuckle. “A little drama filled, right?”

“More than a little.” Malachi deftly balances a small dessert plan with a glass of champagne in one hand, but his other reaches out to Marcus. “I guess we’ll be seeing you more around the inn?”

Marcus shakes the man’s hand, sensing that despite his aloof mannerisms, he cares deeply about you and the inn. “I hope that’s alright?”

"If she's happy, I'm happy." The younger man chuckles fondly. "Everybody wants their boss in a good mood, right?"

“Absolutely.” Marcus agrees with a grin. “I will try to stay out of your way and keep her in a good mood, what do you say?”

"Sounds like a very good plan." Malachi's eyes spell mischief, just like always, but he cares about you far too much to pretend he isn't genuinely over the moon for you to have finally found the right person to be with.

You huff playfully and Marcus turns his grin towards you. “I have to promise not to distract you from work too much.” He reminds you. “You have an inn to run.”

"Mal says he's happy now," you tease." But he's going to have to run the place for me while we're in Texas. That'll teach him."

“A lover’s getaway already?” His brow shoots up and his lips curl in the same direction. “And here I was thinking that you were taking this slow.”

"Family visit." Though it's technically a correction, it's only a small one. If anything, meeting your soulmate's family is even more important than just a little getaway. "We'll go over everything and I know you'll be just fine. But...yes. A getaway."

“Good.” Malachi sniffs. “You deserve to go somewhere other than Maryland.”

There are other people milling around, wanting to give their best wishes or simply curious to get a closer look at Marcus, and Malachi slips back off into the crowd with a wink and a smile. If this is the rest of the party, you reflect with a glance up at Marcus as you fork up a first bite of cake, that won't be so bad at all.

There are so many people who care about you. Some are just curious and he’s sure that there will be gossip reported on the night, but most everyone who comes up to you genuinely cares. He smiles and shakes hands. Listening to how they know you and saves the information for the next time he sees them. Never leaving your side until he needs to refresh your drink.

By the time the end of the night arrives, you're so grateful to slip away. The fact that you and Marcus have planned a lazy day for tomorrow is deeply necessary. Switching to nonalcoholic drinks after the toast with your cake means neither of you is drunk but you're definitely still tangled around each other after loading the trunk of Marcus's car with various boxes and bags (even though you insisted on no gifts). Good nights are said and Agent Bailey climbs into her car to follow you back to the inn as you and Marcus sigh at finally being alone again in his car.

“I don’t know if that’s the best possible outcome for your birthday, or the worst.” Marcus chuckles, reaching for your hand once he buckled his seatbelt. “Opinions, comments, concerns?”

"Aside from the bit in the middle that I would prefer to never think about again?" You glance up at him beside you and offer him a smile. "Everything else was perfect."

“He was desperate.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “I know why. You are amazing and he’s lost you.” He wonders what he would have done if you had chosen him, if it had been him in Sam’s shoes. He’s let everyone else go, but it’s different now. You are his soulmate.

“Nobody ever treated me like I was ‘amazing’ ,” you tell him honestly, sitting back in your seat when he starts his car up. “Or maybe that’s part of what being a soulmate is. A shared definition of how to treat someone well.”

He doesn’t like the idea that no one has treated you like you deserve, frowning slightly. “Well, the moment I don’t, you just correct me.”

“Same goes for you, you know.” Your hand works its way into his over the gear shift to stay tangled in him even while he drives.

“I don’t think you will be a problem, sweetheart.” He smiles as he glances over at you and then back at the road to the rearview mirror. “Agent Bailey staying again? Or is someone else taking over?”

"Agent Sisson should be at the inn when we get there." His grace and understanding in regards to your security detail is deeply appreciated. You really can't say how much. "It was nice of you to offer for her to stay on the compound when we go see your parents."

“There’s always people coming and going, family and friends. It will make her feel better and maybe she will enjoy herself too.” Marcus rationalizes. “There’s plenty of room. No need for a boring hotel.”

"It will be a nice change," you agree. The darkened streets of Washington DC are lit to blazing with artificial light but it's still fairly quiet for a Saturday night. "I feel bad that there aren't more places for her to hang out at my apartment."

“I would offer my apartment, the second bedroom is my office and across the entire living room from my bedroom.” Marcus chuckles.

"We'll have to split the difference sometimes. Use both places." Tilting your head, you flash him a cheeky grin as he drives. "Until we start building, of course."

“Honestly, whatever is easier for you.” Marcus isn’t about to sleep without you if he can manage it. “I do not mind your apartment at all.”

"We'll see what works best for us. I'm sure there will be days when it will be easier for you to be closer to the office or days when I need to be close to the inn just in case." His flexibility is such a boon, and you squeeze his hand gently. "As long as I get to sleep next to you, we'll make it work."

“That was my thoughts exactly.” Marcus chuckles quietly, amazed at how the two of you just fit together. He had always heard of it, been envious of it on a subconscious level, but now he’s basking in this newfound joy.

"I hope you already told your parents you're bringing me," you laugh softly. "Because I told a lot of people tonight."

“I’m sure there will be something about in a gossip column tomorrow.” He has accepted that, has no issue with it as long as he gets to have you. It’s a requirement of it, to be public. He’s got nothing to hide anyway. He’s used to it from his own childhood. “I’ve told them.” He promises.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me what your Dad does.” It’s an open question but a good one, especially where it keeps your mind from idling on the fact that at this time last night, Marcus was fingering you in your bathtub and promising to do more tonight.

His brow shoots up and he almost laughs, but you are asking the question seriously. “Oh, he’s retired now.” Marcus promises, grinning slightly.

“Oh?” That’s surprising, though you’re not sure why. Maybe just because you hadn’t been expecting it. “Is he much older than your mother? Or…I don’t know…military? They retire early sometimes, don’t they?”

He does chuckle now and he stops at the red light. “Birdie, my dad is Matthew Pike.” He wonders if you might not have heard of him during his active years in the MLB. “Nicknamed Stryker for the number of strikeouts he would average throwing a game.”

The silence in the car is deafening for the few seconds it takes your mind to catch up with what he’s saying and for your jaw to come up off the floor, but when you can finally think again the first thing out of your mouth is: “No fucking way!”

Marcus belly laughs this time, squeezing your hand and glancing over at you before the light changes and he starts to drive again. “Fucking way.” He promises.

“Wait…” Rolling back through all of the assorted baseball facts in your mind, you somehow manage to come up with just a few Matthew Pike tidbits and get excited all over again. “So you’re not originally from Texas then!” You exclaim, fully shifting into fan girl mode. “He was playing for the Cardinals when you were born, wasn’t he?”

“Cardinals and then he was with Montreal, the Yankees, then Texas.” Marcus nods, grinning at the sheer happiness in your voice.

“I always thought it would have been so cool to live all over like that when I was a kid.” At the time it had never occurred to you that things like having Sydney come with you would have been impossible, it just sounded neat. “That’s the absolute coolest bomb you ever could have dropped on me and I’m so jealous.”

Marcus laughs. “Well, after dad retired, he bought the land out in Texas – no, he already started buying it during his time with Texas – and we made it the ‘Pike compound’.” He snorts. “Kind of like the Kennedy Compound, but not on Cape Cod.”

“There is no room for a family compound in Philly.” The very idea of it makes you laugh, and you grin at him. “Well now I extra can’t wait to meet your parents.”

“Oh….its tradition, by the way.” Marcus tosses you a smirk. “We play at least one game of baseball when we are home.”

“No fucking way.” This time there is awe in your voice and your eyes are wide with giddy excitement. “You have the absolute coolest family, you know that, right?”

“You say that now.” He snorts, rolling his eyes. “You’ve never heard the trash talking the Pike family doles out when playing sports.”

“Don’t care,” you tell him with confidence. “It’s still awesome. Your family is awesome.”

“I think so.” He agrees, happy that his family tradition doesn’t seem weird or lame to you. It had started as a way for the cousins and brothers and sisters to play baseball with the famous MLB star and turned into a tradition that everyone could enjoy, even if they were watching from the seats.

“It’s going to be a blast.” The absolute confidence in your voice won’t hear of anything different. Texas is going to be a fantastic trip.

“They are going to love you.” He promises with a small laugh. “Expect a million questions though.”

“I’m fine with that,” you promise him steadily. “As long as your dad doesn’t mind me fangirling just a tiny bit.”

He smirks. “There’s been a change in his retirement, by the way.” He tells you. “He’s been signed to be the pitching coach for the Rangers. So you can pick his brain.”

“Ok, so fangirling a lot.” Both of you laugh, enjoying the easiness and eagerness of it.

“At least you know you won’t be roped into awkward conversations. You just mention something about baseball and it will become a family topic quick.” Marcus warns.

“Got it.” You hum. He takes the exit for Alexandria and you look over at his profile. “Speaking of which? You’re now invited to family dinners.”

“I am?” Marcus lifts a brow in surprise. “When did that happen?”

“Right before we left the party.” A bit of your lip comes with hoping he doesn’t feel intimidated by where those dinners are. “Mom said there’s no pressure, but you’re welcome.”

“I would be honored to attended….when I can.” Even though it’s an extreme honor, he still had commitments to his job that sometimes cannot be shifted. “I will promise that I’ll come to as many as I can.”

“Work always comes first.” Everyone in your family can understand and agree to that, which is something that helps you breathe more deeply. “David has a standing invitation, too. But his boss has him working Friday nights right now.”

“That’s not fun.” Marcus sends you a small smile. “I better brush up on my small talk.”

“Brush up on American history.” That’s your best advice, but you’re ecstatic he even wants to think about it. “The more obscure the better. When we run out of things to talk about, Mom starts quizzing us on the weird stuff.”

“Play online Jeopardy trivia.” Marcus snorts. “Got it.”

“You’ll knock ‘em dead, baby,” you hum with a laugh.

“You laugh, but mom love Jeopardy.” He huffs playfully. “She wanted to go on the celebrity edition when dad was invited. She was pissed that he turned it down.”

“Our mothers will have at least one thing to bond over, then.” The idea is sweet, actually, and you grin. “If we ever lose them, we’ll find them yelling answers at Jeopardy together.”

“I will be very intrigued to find out how they like each other.” Marcus admits as he turns into the driveway for the inn. “I think we will be in trouble.”

“Maybe.” It makes you smile, though, and you breathe a sigh of relief to be home again. “But I think it will be a good kind of trouble.”

The plans for the super special birthday sex had been unanimously voted against once you were back at the inn. Marcus wouldn’t have said a word, but you were the one to broach the subject and admitted that you just wanted to fall asleep in his arms, emotionally drained from the tumultuous events of the evening. He feels guilty, he really does, but he had also been relieved, although stirring now with you still asleep is a moment he can treasure.

Yesterday you had been the one to watch him fondly, tracing the sunlight on his features and letting you savor the sight of him beside you. The morning after your birthday is the opposite. Marcus watches you dream as the sun rises higher overhead. If you knew, you might be slightly embarrassed about the spot of drool on your pillow, but as it is you’re having dreams far too wonderful to care.

You sleep with your mouth open and it’s cute. Marcus smiles as he brushes his fingers over your skin gently, listening to soft sigh that comes from you as you curl further into him.

In your dreams, he’s already curled around you. Which probably accounts for the soft moan you breathe deep inside your sleep.

“Sweetheart?” Marcus nuzzles his nose against your cheek and smiles when your brow furrows gently.

The sound of his voice in the waking world pulls you out of it, and even though you hum softly in protest of waking up, you shift to snuggle closer to him in bed.

He hums softly, running his hand up and down your back. “You can still sleep, I just want to know if I can touch you.”

“Mmmmm.” Stretching like a contented kitten, you manage to crack one eye open and smile at him sleepily. “I wanna be awake for that, though.”

“You could always wake up to it.” He chuckles and leans in to steal a kiss.

The warm blanket of his affection is far more powerful than the comforter covering both of you, and you’re simultaneously annoyed that he’ll have to strip you out of your nightgown and lazily eager to see if he just doesn’t bother. Moaning softly against his lips, you shift ever closer. “I’m yours.”

You are his. His heart stutters and he hums against your lips. Moving the kiss down your jaw, he shuffles his hips down to start sliding down under the sheets.

There’s a surreal quality to it, like you’re still dreaming even when you know you aren’t. But the morning glow settling over everything is so much better than your dreams had been. It’s like you’re floating on a cloud, and the only thing anchoring you to the ground or any kind of reality is just Marcus.

Your nightgown is between you, but he doesn’t view it as hinderance. Too busy nuzzling you through it as he kisses down your chest and pulls down the collar of the gown over one breast.

The bowing arch of your back into his touch is so natural that you barely notice that you’re chasing his mouth rather than his hands. It’s just your body singing insistently for more when he’s barely getting started.

You respond so easily to him, your warm skin heating up even more as he mouths and kisses the skin around your breast until he finally latches on to your nipple lazily, grabbing against your sweet smelling skin. Your breathy sigh is pitched up, and the leisurely curl of your arms around his shoulders holds him in close to you to encourage him to explore any and all parts of you. Sensitive nipples have always been a boon as far as arousal goes, but Marcus’s magic tongue is nothing to discount.

Listening to your sweet sighs is something he can do forever. Licking and sucking gently, combined with the a sometimes sharp nip of his teeth, builds a tension that vibrates beneath the surface of your body.

Your fingers comb through his hair as you drift on a cloud that keeps you somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Every atom in your body is fully aware and aroused but the sweet dream of this morning makes it still feel like a dream. Holding him close to your chest as he explores to his heart’s content has you squeezing your thighs together already, the buzzing arousal feeling thick and sticky at the apex of your thighs.

"So sweet, perfect." Marcus praises softly between suckles. His hands sliding under your gown to stroke your hip. "You taste perfect, my love."

The happy buzz vibrating right under your skin makes you giggle at that as you squirm underneath him. “And you haven’t even tasted the best part yet.”

“Hmmmm, I’m going to get there.” Marcus promises. “This isn’t a race. I could spend alllll day discovering your body with my tongue and hands before I even use my cock.”

A moan of agreement parts your lips and you end up grinning as he mouths at your skin, nipping and licking everywhere he pleases. “The flea market will still be there next weekend.”

“Maybe we should get out of bed then.” He pauses, head under the sheet and waits for you to squirm. “Right? We can’t miss the flea market.”

“Are you serious?” He’s probably not, but you still lift the sheet to look him in the eyes. If he actually wants to stop, then of course you will. But you have a feel he’s just being a tease again.

He smirks, and looks up at you innocently while sticking his tongue out to trace around your areola. "What do you think?" He hums.

“I’m not going to pressuring you into anything,” you qualify, although he basically has you whining. “But I am gonna have to take care of myself in the shower if you want to stop.”

"That would be a horrible precedent to set in our first weekend together." Marcus flicks his tongue over your aching nipple and then hums when you gasp out as his teeth scrap over it. "Don't you think? We've already postponed this too many times."

It’s almost too much to bear, the way he teases with words and touches and kisses all at once, but you manage to huff at him. “If I drown you when you get down there, it’s only because I’ve been thinking about this every waking second for weeks.”

“Worth it.” He promises with a grin. “It had been so hard not to jerk off thinking about you while I was in London. Especially knowing you were all soft, wet and sweet smelling from your baths with me.”

“Do you know how many times I almost got myself off in those damn baths?” Your soft groan is almost agonized. “I should have. Just moaned into the phone and let you know how badly I want you.”

“Fuck.” His cock twitches against the bed, trapped there as he continues to work his way down. “I wouldn’t have minded.” He admits. “Listening to your orgasm and imagining how you look.” He bites his lip. “You look gorgeous.”

“Would’ve been worth it.” He kisses further down your torso and you hum in approval. “Can’t wait to see how wrecked you look when you cum in me.”

“I had a screening while I was in London.” Marcus admits quietly. “After Vanessa broke up with me. I always do after a relationship ends. Just in case.”

“I do too.” A little bit of a sheepish laugh follows. “Turns out it’s really easy to get good healthcare when your Mom is President.”

Marcus chuckles against your belly button before kissing it. “I bet.” He hums. “No one needs a leaked doctor office visit where the First Princess has an STI.”

“I only like that nickname because it came from the night with you,” you confess, fingers running through his short fair fondly. “I hope you know that.”

“So how about I just call you Princess?” Marcus’s voice drops about two octaves and he smirks at you wickedly.

“As long as I’m your princess.” Although, your sigh immediately gives away what that tone in his voice fires to you.

“Is there any other kind of Princess you would be?” He sends you a wink as he trails his tongue over your hip.

“Not anymore.” Your head falls back on your pillow in relief at that fact, and you fling off the sheet to get to watch him. “Not now that I have you.”

Pleasure races down his spine and he shuffles slightly lower. “I am yours.”

“Glad we—” The moan that cuts off your thought when you feel Marcus’s breath at the apex of your open thighs is deep and curls up from your toes. “Agree.”

He chuckles and doesn’t hesitate to use his fingers to spread your lips apart and he coos as he gets the first good look at your weeping sex. “So pretty.” He praises before he decides the best way to taste you is to slowly drag his tongue along your soaked slit.

“Oh fuck.” Even when you were expecting it, the delicate touch has your eyelids fluttering shut and your chest heaving. Your curse sounds like the most beautiful praise to his ears, moaning at that and the silky, tangy taste of your cunt. Letting his tongue slowly flick along your folds and go where the natural curves of your lips take him. “Never going out again,” you vow, letting a breathy whine vibrate on your tongue.

Marcus chuckles into your folds, keeping pressure on the most sensitive parts of you as he explores. He’s meticulous. Once he’s set himself to the task of learning you, absolutely nothing can or will possibly drag him away. The more you squirm, the firmer his hold becomes. But the more you pant and moan and coo his name into the morning light? Marcus is eager.

The sheet being pulled away allows him to watch you. Enjoying the way you writhe and squirm under his touch. Humming against your skin as you whimper his name prettily.

There's no possible explanation beyond Marcus having a three-foot-long tongue, because the way he feels like he's everywhere at once is the most beautiful kind of overwhelming. There's a solid chance he's just been licking into you and sucking at your clit for hours from how boneless you are, but the first tightening of the knotted arousal at the bottom of your spine heralding the first orgasm of the day reminds you just how quickly he's actually gotten here. You only feel like you've been on this cloud of ecstasy for forever.

Marcus feels your thighs starts to tense around his head. Tightening his grip of your hips as he continues to overwhelm you gently.

“Baby—” Breathless gasps begin to take over as your whole body seems to tighten in response to the mounting pleasure. “I’m so—fuck, I’m so close—”

He doesn’t dare pull away, not wanting to give you a seconds break from the flick of his tongue. Groaning into you and coaxing you to cum for him.

Marcus’s name is a chant on your lips as you fall apart, tipping off the peak of the mountain of pleasure and swan diving down into the swimming ecstasy that Marcus is drawing out of you with lips and teeth and hands.

Your breathless cry of his name is followed by the most gorgeous sight he’s ever seen. Your back arches, eyes closed, one hand tangled into his hair and the other gripping the sheets. It’s beautiful and erotic, a pure work of live art that is priceless to him.

For a few seconds after it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, and then you sink back into the mattress with a sigh. You still have one hand in his hair and it rubs gently, begging him to climb up your body so you can kiss him.

It takes a few minutes, Marcus liking to be thorough when he is working a woman down from her high. Kissing the swollen skin gently before his mouth starts a slow journey back up to yours. By the time he gets up to your lips you’re practically whining for that kiss, happily letting him sink down on top of you when he gets there. His body covers yours perfect, fitting into every grove like he was made for you – because he was. His lips molding to yours in a soft yet sensuous kiss that consumes both of you in the growing morning light.

The valley between your thighs is the perfect place for him to rest, and you cradle him against your body as easily as if you were welcoming him home. What they say about intimacy between soulmates seems to be abundantly clear to you in this moment — it really is the deepest feeling of connection you’ve ever had.

Marcus revels in the feel, sliding his tongue against yours and he pushes his arms under yours to hold you close. It’s almost lazy, the way you sink against each other, but Marcus’s cock trapped between your bodies isn’t going to let either of you get distracted from the wonderful the track that you’re on.

His knuckles brush your cheek and when he finally pulls away, he’s grinning at you. “Good morning.”

"Cheeky," you hum at him, although you're grinning too. "Making me cum that hard and then acting all cute and innocent."

“That was hard?” He tilts his head and smirks slightly, teasing you. “I thought that was a good place to start.”

"Marcus Reid Pike." Eyeing him with a skeptical huff, you ruffle his hair again and end up laughing. "I'm all for that. Just give me a second to recover."

He laughs, coming back down to smother you in affectionate kisses to hear you squeal. “No recovery time!” He commands playfully.

"Such a demanding lover!" You faux-scold, laughing and clinging to him as you squeal and squirm in his arms. Marcus laughs like an evil villain and rocks his hips, grinding his cock against your mound.

"Fuck." It earns him a whimper from your lips, your whole body lighting up all over again at the contact.The playfulness ebbs away and is replaced by a moment of silent desire passing through both of you. Leaning in again, his lips press against yours once more. When you shift this time, your feet are flat on the bed and your knees end up bracketing his hips, encouraging him closer and letting him rest in the cradle of your thighs.

“Ready for more?” He hums, ducking his head to kiss your pulse. “I thought my little Hummingbird needed to recover?”

"I have reconsidered," you inform him, with the air of someone making a very serious and important political decision. "And instead insist on more."

“Ahhhh.” He pops his head up and makes a very loft expression appear on his own face as his hips tilt back and the head of his cock catches on your slick entrance. “A wise choice.” He rasps out, pushing forward to start breaking you open. “Princess.”

Your own noise is best described as a whine, somewhere in between a sharp gasp and a plaintive begging for as much as he's willing to give you. Your legs find their way up higher on his hips to invite him to bury himself in your heat, and even though you were just kissing him seconds ago, you swear he's managed to find a way to loom over you with the perfect expression of desire on his face.

You are exquisite, perfect. Marcus can’t even find enough words to describe how the moment he slides into you wraps around his heart and imprints into his soul. The same soul that is fused with yours. He’s always heard that you feel so much deeper with your soulmate and he’s happy to learn that it’s true.

For a few long seconds, the two of you are content to adjust to each other. No sharp, awkward movements. No wiggling or shifting. The angle is already perfect and Marcus is fully seated inside your body without a single moment of hesitation or difficulty. There’s just a feeling of coming home that you’re basking in until he starts to move.

Starting slow is the only way to do this. Not because he’s afraid of hurting you, but because he doesn’t want to leave you. Feeling like he just stay buried inside your honeyed walls and be perfectly content. The first time he draws his hips back, a low groan falls from his lips. Your real name following that.

There are octaves of difference in your responses. Where Marcus’s groan comes from somewhere deep in his soul, your high whine of pleasure is its own ethereal sound. Once those sounds break free, it seems like a release cord has been pulled — and every pleasurable sound, pure of encouragement, and moan of praise is sure to come tumbling out after it.

It’s never been like this. Never reached into his body and tugged at his soul like this. He should feel guilty but he can’t. Not when every slow thrust is met with an eagerness that shows your own enthusiasm.

Each thrust from Marcus comes with a lift or a roll of your hips, meeting him at the center of the movement to create an exquisite rhythm between the two of you. It's the ebb and flow of the ocean between your bodies as the pace increases and the warmth of the sun heats your skin even further.

It’s beautiful, but he can tell that it’s not enough. Your fingernails dig into his skin, only to release a second later as if you are afraid of marking him. Your body asking for more than the gentle lovemaking. “Let me-“ Marcus kisses you again. “Do you want to try a different position?”

With his cock buried to the hilt inside you like it is, he could probably suggest murder and you'd agree with breathless enthusiasm. "Anything," you nod emphatically and soothe the light fingernail marks you accidentally left on his shoulder.

“Let me know if you don’t like something, Princess.” Marcus murmurs seriously. “This is about both of us.”

"I promise." Right now all you care about is that he doesn't leave the heat of your little cocoon for too long, but you're willing to try just about anything once.

Marcus pulls back and he tries to shift without pulling out of you. Almost succeeding, but smirking slightly when you whimper as his cock falls out. Pushing his legs under your hips, he lifts your left leg onto his shoulder and shimmy’s closer.

There's no thrusting in this position, but as Marcus slides inside you again he leans back the intensity of just grinding against each other makes you moan out and reach to grip Marcus's ankle by your head. He loves how deep he feels, how your walls simply flutter around him. “So good baby.” Marcus groans. “How does it feel?”

"So good baby." Echoing him with a whimper, the hand of yours that isn't clinging to him is somewhere between fisting the sheets and exploring your own body while his hips grind into yours. "You like watching me writhe, gorgeous?"

“Yes.” The word falls like a prayer from his lips, breathless as he watches you. His heart galloping like he’s running a marathon and he can only hope that it’s half as good for you.

"You wanna see me touch myself?" The angle is perfect for it. For him to watch you on your back as he rolls his hips against yours and makes both of you shudder in response. Your free hand squeezes mercilessly at one of your tits, pawing it and twisting the nipple with enough force to make you moan sharply.

“Show me what you like.” Marcus growls out the order, his cock pulsing violently inside your walls as his body responds to the idea.

Anchoring yourself to him was like clinging to life when he first slid inside you in this position, but now you can take your hand away and put it to much better use rubbing decisive, tight circles around your clit to give Marcus a gorgeous show of you indulging in your own body at the same time he fucks you.

His eyes keep roaming. Taking in your hand squeezing and manipulating your breast, the tight circles you rub around your clit. All finding it to be the sexiest thing he’s ever seen as his cock grinds into you. The end of the shaft the only part of it he can see.

Watching Marcus practically salivate over the sight of you is worth not being able to kiss him in this position. Every time he lifts his hips his cock scrubs against your g-spot and your back arches just a little bit more, rocketing you straight toward the second orgasm of the morning.

“That how you like it baby?” Marcus groans when you clench down around him, providing the perfect pressure. “What else do you like? Tell me. Want to give it to you.”

“Want you to — oh fuck — fucking wreck me.” What started out as beautiful, slow, sensual lovemaking has quickly picked up speed and intensity. Like something inside the two of you just released out of nowhere. “Claim me.”

“Fuck” Marcus growls from the very pit of his stomach and he manages to push to his knees by folding them under and looming over you. “You want it rough?”

Simply knowing the man is broad doesn’t do justice to the way he looms over you now. There is power in his strength and yet a deep confidence that he would never, never hurt you. You know Marcus can be gentle and sensual — but you also want to see what it’s like when he’s rough. “Absolutely.”

Your leg is up on his shoulder so when he lunges forward, it’s pressed back to your body. Trapped between the two of you and pinning your hand so you can’t move it from your clit. His hand slaps the side of your thigh sharply and he replaces the hand on your tit with his own, the next thrust more of a sharp snap of his hips.

Permission seems to be all he needed, having no issue taking charge or throwing some power into his thrusts. It pushes you up the bed and has you moaning out all over again. If you had neighbors, they would definitely be complaining. Instead, you just make a mental note to get an extra treat for your agents in apology for how much of this they’re going to start hearing.

“Tell me what else you want.” He demands through gritted teeth and he slides one hand up to rest on the hollow of your throat. He doesn’t squeeze. “This?”

The whimper he earns from you with that suggestion is almost pitiable, but having one of your favorite things to watch in porn that you've never tried before just offered to you – it makes you impossibly wetter and that impending orgasm come even closer. "I – fuck – please?" You beg, knowing you sound pitiful but not caring in the least.

“Hold onto my hand Princess.” Marcus orders roughly. “Squeeze twice quickly if you need me to stop.” He knows that it’s hard to talk sometimes and he wants you to be safe. If this is the kind of experience you want sometimes, you will need to discuss safe words and other safety precautions. Later.

It's possibly the most obedient you've ever been in your life and you put your hand over his wrist and squeeze it twice quickly to show him that you understand. "Like that. I love you, baby."

“I love you too.” He grunts, snapping his hips forward as he squeezes your windpipe for the first time. It’s not hard, but it’s firm enough to cut your air intake in half.

If he was worried even for a second that this might be going out on a limb or that you agreed to it just because you thought it would please him, that worry slides away instantly. As soon as he squeezes, your eyes rolls back in pleasure and your cunt squeezes his cock tight, flooding him with another rush of arousal.

“Holy shit, holy shit. You like that?” He groans, squeezing a little harder. “Yeah you do.” He hisses. “Open your mouth for me, Princess.”

You really fucking do like it, and the instinct for obedience it seems to ingrain in you has you opening your mouth immediately.

It’s a testament to his core training that he can take his other hand off the bed. Holding himself up as he presses his thumb to your tongue and hooks your jaw open even more as he continues to pound into you. “Suck.” He growls.

It might be the single sexiest thing you've ever seen. The way he practically blocks out the sun with the bulk of him and narrows down your entire world to only him feels incredible. Just swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking it deeper into your mouth has you all the way to the edge of pleasure; but it's when Marcus growls again that you completely lose control, cumming so hard you feel like the world has gone white at the edges.

His blood pressure shoots through the roof and he’s pretty sure that you’ve just soaked the bed underneath you in the most intense orgasm he’s ever witnessed. Panting out your name as he continues to rock into you at an unhinged pace to intensify the pleasure.

If you could you’d beg him to join you. Moan praise and encouragements and tell him with complete honesty how incredibly well he’s fucking you. But being at his mercy like this means your best option is putting all your focus into lavishing the digit in your mouth in attention and bearing down on his cock in earnest any time he’s inside you.

“Fuck baby, fuck baby.” Marcus can’t keep up the growling when he feels like shouting at how hard you are squeezing him. “Gonna cum, gonna – fuck, fill up that little pussy.” He hisses, his hips stutter for a few thrusts before he is burying himself deep.

You practically have to catch him when he falls over the edge after you, just making sure that he doesn’t collapse in such a way that your heads knock together or he accidentally puts too much weight toward the one side of the bed you’ve ended up closer to. You let go of his wrist when his grip on your throat loosens, letting him slump into your body and wrapping that arm around his shoulders to hold him close as he rides out his orgasm.

It’s the most intense feeling Marcus has ever felt in his life. Bigger than any rush of adrenaline or dose of serotonin. For one heart stopping moment, he’s almost afraid that he’s had a heart attack. Body shaking with pleasure as he pours himself into you completely. It’s as if your bodies, as well as your souls, merge.

You dust soft kisses on his cheeks and along his jaw, reveling in the feeling of being completely full of him while he catches his breath.

“How are you feeling?” When he can think, Marcus pulls back to start checking in with you. His hand softening in its touch and he caresses your throat gently. He hadn’t been too rough, but he likes to make a fuss, especially when sex takes a turn like it did this morning.

“Fantastic.” You admit with only a hint of sheepishness in the way you smile at him and your hands caress his back and shoulders. “You?”

“Amazing.” He assures you softly. “Anything you didn’t quite like? Wanted more of?”

“I didn’t want to stop in the middle and ask how you felt about biting or scratching,” you admit. It feels silly to say since he paused to check in with you about getting rough, but you’re being honest. “And…I think we should talk about safe words?”

“We should.” Marcus agrees. “Expectations and needs are important to address as well.”

“I didn’t anticipate rough morning sex the first time,” you giggle, brushing sweat-matted hair from his forehead. “My mistake.”

“That was okay, right?” His soft brown eyes turned worried as he wonders if he overstepped for the first time you were together.

“Baby.” The worry on his face has you reaching for his immediately and pressing kisses to his lips. “It was amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life.”

“Okay.” He sighs in relief. “I just didn’t want to overstep our first time.”

“Not at all.” A kiss on the bridge of his nose punctuates the promise. “As long as you enjoyed it, too. Sex should be about both of our pleasure.”

“I enjoyed myself.” Marcus admits with an embarrassed grin. “I enjoy getting a little rougher or darker depending on how my partner feels about it.”

“It’s not an every time thing,” you agree, enjoying the way Marcus almost blushes over admitting his pleasure, “but when you’re in the mood it’s so much fun.”

“I can completely agree.” He hums as he shifts to move off of you.

“Do you still want to go to the flea market today?” You’re up for anything. As long as you get to spend the day with him, everything is golden.

“What do you want?” He asks softly, cupping your cheek. “Your birthday was emotional and I just want to give you a day to enjoy.”

"I just want you. As cheesy as that sounds." Reaching up to peck a kiss on his lips, you shift off the bed along with him despite still-wobbly legs. "Let's take a shower and head to the flea market just like we planned. If something else strikes our fancy then we'll switch gears when we think of it?"

“That sounds like a perfect day to me.” Marcus quickly follows you, holding onto your waist as you go into the bathroom. “Shower together?”

"Absolutely." Naked Marcus is rapidly becoming one of your favorite versions of him, and you fully plan on pampering him in the shower in thanks for fucking you senseless. Seems like a fair trade in your mind.

He hums in approval and moves towards the shower stall to turn on the water while you take care of your after sex business. “Do I need to leave for you to use the bathroom?” He asks, aware that it might not be something you like to do— peeing in front of a partner.

"Not on my account." While some girls might be squeamish about that, you're not one of them. "If you can be inside me, you can stand to be in the room while I pee. That's my feeling, anyway."

“Sound logic to me.” He can’t argue with it. “Especially since one day I’ll be in a delivery room as you give birth to our children.”

"And you need to be okay with bodily functions way before that day comes." Hearing him be on the same page as you is both an enormous relief and absolutely thrilling at the same time and you flash him a grin. "Can I...tell you about the dream I had last night? Without you thinking I'm an absolute crazy person?"

“You can tell me anything, always.” He promises, returning your grin easily and reaching for the towels that are neatly folded on a shelf. “I want us to share anything and everything. For us to be more than just soulmates. Friends too.”

"To be fair, we were friends for a whole month before anything happened," you remind him. The shower is already starting to steam the bathroom mirror but you instinctively wash your hands after you finish on the toilet. "We were f-w-y. Friends with yearning."

“Lots of yearning.” Marcus can agree and he opens the door to let you step into the shower. “Tell me about your dream, Princess.”

"It was about us." Stepping under the hot water with him right behind you, you sigh and lean back under the hot spray. "We had..." A small laugh escapes you and you shake your head. "We had four kids, a big, beautiful Golden Retriever, and we were living in a beautiful little house that looked like a converted barn. It was the most beautiful little domestic vision and I almost didn't want to wake up, except I knew that you were there for real right next to me."

“Four kids, huh?” He grins as he wraps his arms around you and slides his hands up to cup your breasts. “These will be off limits for a long time then.”

"Your fault for telling me twins run in your family," you huff at him, though you arch into his touch immediately. "It got in my subconscious."

“I kind of like the idea of four.” He admits, whispering into your ear. “Two for each of us to corral.” He jokes. “We’ll need a big bed for Sunday morning snuggles when they are young.”

"California king and great big blankets for them to cuddle under." The image is a sweet one, and it conjures up lazy morning and plenty of giggling kiddos in your mind. "And the dog, to cap it all off. Because you know the dog will corral them and be their favourite playmate."

“Absolutely.” Marcus agrees, chuckling himself. “And shedding everywhere, getting muddy with them. Shrieking when he flings water all over them after a bath.”

You both laugh as you start to wash up, reaching for soap and for washcloths and maneuvering around each other in the shower that was definitely not built for two. "So thank you for a beautiful dream and a beautiful wake up."

“It was absolutely my pleasure.” Marcus puffs proudly. “Every single second of it.”

______

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Stars Align: Part 5

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Eventual Smut, Violence, Alcohol, Sexual Themes, Hidden Feelings, Swearing, Cheating, Established Relationship.

-- Part 4 Here --

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18+ Only

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Past:

You and Bradley didn't speak for a few days after your conversation at the beach, but you felt your cold shoulder beginning to fade when Bradley showed up at your door with a bunch of daisies in his hand, which he thrust at you as soon as you opened the door.

''What are these for?'' you asked.

''For whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry.'' he said genuinely, and it broke your heart that you'd made him think he'd actually done something wrong.

''It wasn't you, Bradley, I'm sorry for the way I acted.'' You apologised softly.

Bradley grinned and softly punched your shoulder, ''Besties again?''

You chuckled, ''Never stopped, Bradshaw.''

Things went mostly back to normal after that, with Bradley still spending most of his time with you. There was the odd occasion Michelle would call Bradley and ask to meet up, where he'd disappear for a while, only to reappear at your house the next day as if he never left.

Bradley didn't say much about Michelle around you, obviously sensing your dislike for her, but it became more and more obvious that they were getting closer and closer to doing the deed, when Carole let slip one night that Bradley had a romantic date planned for her.

You wanted to be sick at the thought, but instead you smiled at her and mumbled 'That's nice, hope you two have a good time.' as Bradley blushed a bright shade of crimson, you both going back to the lovely dinner Carole had cooked for you.

''So, what's this date you've told me nothing about?'' you chuckled as Bradley walked you home that evening, the cool air wafting his poofy dark hair over his eyes. He smoothed his hair back and chuckled awkwardly.

''It's nothing, just dinner. A picnic actually, up on the hill.''

''Are you gonna... you know?''

''Gosh I dunno, Birdy, what's with the interrogation?'' he flushed.

You were both quiet for a moment, until you neared your front lawn and looked up at him, ''For what its worth, I don't think she's right for you. I think you can do better, Rooster.''

Bradley was about to speak, when your dad walked outside.

''Ah, I'm glad you're both here. Can you two come inside for a second, we need to talk.'' your dad said sombrely, and you could see your mother in the hallway, her eyebrows creased.

''What is it, dad?'' you asked as you walked towards him.

''Just come inside.''

__________________________

Present:

Your most important things were packed in a suitcase, the rest still in your apartment. You'd signed a year lease so you thought at the very least if things panned out, you could use it as a storage unit until things were set up in California.

The plane landed and your stomach was in knots. You hadn't told Bradley you were coming yet, and as you left the airport and got in a cab, you suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.

It was too late to turn back when you decided it was, in fact, a very bad idea, because you were already pulling up outside of Bradleys bungalow. You took a deep breath as you paid the driver, and you swallowed down the nerves as you took your suitcase out of the trunk. You thought you were going to vomit as you walked up to the front door and knocked.

You waited for what felt like an agonisingly long time, but when the door finally swung open, you knew you'd made the right decision.

''Birdy?'' Bradley breathed in disbelief, his hands cupping his mouth as his eyes scanned your face.

''Hope that invitation is still valid.'' you joked sheepishly.

Bradley lunged forwards and swept you up in his big burly arms, you dangled helplessly like a doll in an overly early childs hands, and you chuckled as he buried his face in your neck.

When he finally put you down, you grinned up at him, and noticed his Adams Apple bobbing, he was trying not to cry.

''Oh, you big softie.'' you punched his shoulder and he chuckled, rubbing his eyes.

''I just can't believe you're here. I didn't think you'd come.''

''Well, are you gonna make me live out here on the porch or can I come in?'' you teased.

''Right! Come in, I have a room for you.'' Bradley stepped to the side and grabbed your suitcase. He gave you a quick tour of the little bungalow that you thought seemed too small for a man of his stature, and lastly to the bedroom he'd prepared, just in case you came.

''Wow, Brad, I thought you said you didn't think I was coming?'' you breathed. The room was already set up, pink floral duvet covers and fluffy pillows awaited you, a poster of your favourite boy band in school, and the canvas you'd painted with Bradley stood pride and centre on the wall.

''I know, but I hoped.'' he said simply.

You looked up at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to your height. You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and then wrapped your arms around his neck.

''Thank you.'' you whispered as you hugged him.

''Anything for my lil Bird.''

It took a while for you to let go, but when you did Bradley left you to unpack and relax for a while.

You walked around your room and smiled, it was simple and mostly empty, but it had a sense of home that your apartment in New York didn't have.

You sat on the bed and breathed in the smell of sea air wafting in through your windows.

Once you'd unpacked and changed into a more summery dress, you met Bradley in the lounge, the sound of a football match roaring through the speakers. Bradley turned the tv off as you walked in, smiling at you.

''California suits you.'' he grinned.

You swished your dress from side to side, ''Yeah, I think so too.'' you winked.

''How do you feel about meeting some of my friends?'' Bradley asked, as he stood and met you at the centre of the room. He stood over you, tauntingly close, the smell of his cologne teasing your nostrils.

''You mean that blond guy, Jake?'' you scrunched up your nose.

''There are others, I promise.'' he chuckled, cupping your face in both of his huge hands. He stared down at you so intently, for a moment you forgot where you were.

''Why are you looking at me like I'm not real?'' you breathed out a soft, awkward laugh.

''Because I'm scared you're not and I'm gonna wake up without you.'' he said earnestly. Your heart thudded against your chest as his face grew closer, his eyes dipping to your lips.

Knock Knock Knock

Bradleys front door suddenly interrupted you, and you both stepped back, looking at each other for a moment, before Bradley went to answer it.

''I may have texted the group that you're here, I think they took that as an invitation to come and meet you.'' he said apologetically. You laughed as he opened the door and 5 people walked in.

''Hello again little lady.'' Jake, the only one you recognised, grinned at you, toothpick between his teeth.

''Hi, Jake.'' you smiled politely back.

Bradley introduced you to the others as they filtered in, each toting various drinks and bags of snacks.

''This is Nat, Bob, Reuben, and Javy. You'll meet Mickey at some point but he's on his honeymoon at the moment.''

You said hello to everyone, and Nat pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you a lot of Gabby, and you suddenly remembered you needed to give her a call later.

''It's so great to finally meet you, Rooster has been talking about you for years!'' Nat laughed.

''Great to meet you too! Years, huh?'' you shot Bradley a quizzical glance, and he just rolled his eyes.

You all filtered out into the little back yard, where Jake and Javy fired up the grill as everyone got to know you, drinks at hand and before long laughter filling the little yard.

Bradley made his way over to where you and Bob were talking, slinking an arm casually over your shoulder as he took a swig of beer. He joined in the conversation and didn't notice as someone new walked out the back door.

Bob noticed first, and tapped Bradley on the shoulder, his eyes shooting over to the new comer to alert Bradley.

''Hi all!'' she chirped, ''The door was open, hope you don't mind if I join?''

Bradley groaned, moving his arm off of your shoulder as he turned to face her.

''Hey, Alice. Sorry I was gonna call you.'' he said awkwardly as he walked over to the leggy blond.

''Alice, this is my best friend, Y/N.'' He said introducing you with a grin.

And then half heartedly and with a sheepish look, he turned to look at you, ''Y/N, this is Alice... my girlfriend.''

__________________________________

Past:

“What do you mean? Why can’t you just do that job here?” You demanded.

You were sitting in your living room across from your parents, Bradley was next to you with his face in his hands.

“There isn’t a position here for me, Y/N. This job is going to sort out so much debt for us-“ your mom nudged your dad and shook her head to stop him from talking.

“Are we having money problems?” You asked softly.

Bradley lifted his head and looked around with furrowed eyebrows.

Your dad sighed, looked at your mom and she took over, “We’re fine, but we are struggling. This job is our only choice. I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s going to be difficult, but Bradley can come visit whenever and you can stay with them during summer vacation.”

Your parents left you shell shocked in your living room with Bradley, who just looked at you with wide, watery eyes.

“Well, I guess that’s it then…” you mumbled.

“No, it can’t be. I haven’t planned for a life without you, what am I supposed to do when you’re gone?” Bradley suddenly exploded, standing to his feet so quickly it startled you.

He began to pace, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna be stuck with Michelle as my only source of company.” He ranted.

“Isn’t that what you want?” You asked softly.

Bradley looked at you like you’d just asked the most stupid question ever, “No! God no! She’s boring, and stuck up, and rude, when I’m with her all I can think about is getting out.”

“Then why are you with her?” You shook your head in exasperation.

“Because… you don’t get it, Birdy. I’m the only one in my grade that hasn’t… you know. I needed someone experienced who I could do it with.” He groaned, sitting back down and putting his hands over his face.

“Brad, why didn’t you tell me that’s the only reason? If you’re gonna lose your… you know, it should be with someone you actually care about.” You said gently, placing a hand on the top of his arm. He lowered his hands and looked at you for a while.

Bradley sighed, “The only person in this whole damn town I care about is you.”

You were about to respond when your brother walked into the room and wailed dramatically.

“Have you heard the news? Our lives are over!”

—————————————

Present:

“Girlfriend? Oh, hi, nice to meet you.” Your voice was small and shaky, and you had to clear your throat.

Bob noticed the awkward tension and was the first one to realise what was happening.

“Oh my god! Bradley talks about you non stop! So nice to finally meet you, girl!” Alice squealed, hugging you.

Bob cleared his throat, “Y/N, do you mind helping me grab some of the food from the kitchen?” Bob asked, looking you in the eye and giving you a signal.

You nodded and excused yourself, and as soon as you were in the kitchen, you let out a long shaky breath, tears prickling your eyes. You had just made a horrible mistake coming here.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bob asked, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“Yep. I just… I need to call someone. Excuse me.” You rushed off to your bedroom and closed the door, pressing your back up against it as you breathed through the sudden panic.

You found your phone on the nightstand and dialled Gabby’s number.

As soon as she answered, you began to sob uncontrollably.

“Y/N! What’s going on, can you breathe for me please?” She called over the phone.

You attempted to pull in a few short breaths until you were calm enough to speak.

“I’m such an idiot!” You cried.

“Why? What’s happening? You scared me when you left this morning.”

“I… I went to California. Bradley asked me to, so I did, I thought he wanted me here because he felt the same.” You sniffled.

There was a brief silence on the other end, “He doesn’t?” She sounded surprised.

“He has a girlfriend, Gabs, one he never told me about.”

“Ohhh, fuck. Have you met her?”

“Yeah, just now. I was so blindsided I must have come across as rude. I can’t believe I thought Bradley and I had any future, or that he loved me the way I love him. I’ve loved him for what feels like my whole life, Gabs, when am I going to realise I can’t have him?” You wept.

Suddenly the door creaked, and you turned around suddenly to face Bradley, who stood in the doorway with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyebrows furrowed, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill over.

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “Gabby I have to go.” You hung up and dropped your phone on the bed.

“Brad-“

He held up a hand to shush you, and edged into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t speak.” He said as he crossed the room. He stood over you and a large hand came up to thread through your hair and cup your cheek.

A tear dropped down your face as you looked up at him, your lip quivering.

“Did you mean what you just said?” Bradley whispered, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest against yours, your lips inches apart, his warm breath on your skin.

“Yes.” you croaked out. And that’s all you needed to say, because Bradley’s lips came crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. The room spun as your eyes widened, and then gradually fluttered shut.

His other hand cradled the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into your lips.

The tears fell faster now as your heart felt as if it was exploding, the fireworks inside you turning your skin alight. You grabbed a fistful of Bradley’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the feeling you’d waited decades for was finally washing over you, better than you'd ever imagined, buckling your knees from underneath you.

Bradley’s hand moved from the back of your head to your lower back and he pulled you into him, holding you up, and still it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, desperate for more, hungry for more, but your conscious suddenly rocked through you like a bolt of lightning and you pushed against Bradley’s chest. You broke away from him with a gasp as you fought for breath. Your hand moved up to your chest to soothe the thrumming inside as you panted.

Bradley looked at you with a confused, longing expression, fighting for his own breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bradley demanded, his face flushed and lips beautifully swollen.

You bit your lip and shook your head before you breathed a laugh, “Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes, Birdy, it would have made all the difference.” He nodded, hands on his hips as he contemplated your words.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend before I flew out here?” You asked him sadly.

“I… I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He looked at his feet.

You shook your head again as you sighed, “I’ve loved you since that stupid moustache began to grow, Brad. In fact I think I loved you the second you saved me on my first day of school.” You breathed.

Bradley’s eyes shot up to meet yours, his bottom lip wobbled as he nodded, “Yeah, that’s about the same time I fell in love with you, too, Birdy.”

You opened your mouth to speak but a sharp knock rasped against your bedroom door and you jumped. The door opened and Bob poked his head through.

“Uhm… you guys should probably come outside.”

—————————————

-- Part 6 Here --

Taglist now open 💛 please let me know if you'd like to be added!

@dizzybee03

@lucyjenniferx

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 ao3 (Complete)

Eddie has a telephone voice, which Dustin finds absolutely hysterical. As the pizza place answers, his whole register switches into something a little smoother, over-pronouncing each word, and Dustin watches him with undisguised glee.

Eddie must read his thoughts because while their order is repeated back to him, he blushes, covers the receiver and mouths, “Oh, fuck off.”

When he hangs up, he playfully cuffs Dustin on the back of the head. “Do you mind? I was putting on the performance of a lifetime there.”

“What performance?” comes Steve’s voice, and Dustin turns to see him leaning against the counter, Tews following at his heels.

“That I’m a polite young man, of course,” Eddie says with a toothy smile.

Steve whistles, all faux impressed. “The Academy will be in touch, man.” He dodges Eddie’s attempt to trip him up, smirking—then yawns a bit into his palm. “Henderson, your cat’s like a sleeping pill or something.”

Dustin scoops up Tews, rocks him until he wriggles out of his arms. “Why can’t you be cute like that with me? You just claw at all my clothes, you little shit.”

“Dustin!” Eddie gasps, “don’t use such language around the baby.”

“Yeah, dude,” Steve snickers. “Don’t wanna offend Mr Polite Young Man’s delicate sensibilities.”

Eddie whacks him with the take-out menu.

Their back-and-forth hardly stops all throughout dinner. Eddie makes it look easy, Dustin thinks: how he delivers each quip so there’s never a lingering silence, yet still spaces them out so that Steve has more time to retort back.

And because Eddie keeps talking engagingly, Steve clears his plate without seeming to realise it; and Dustin feels himself calm at the sight of his eyes gradually brightening.

It’s not the only sight he takes note of.

Eddie is sitting close to Steve, their shoulders touching—and whenever he wants the box of pizza passed to him, or more soda, he just taps Steve’s arm in question, all while carrying on the conversation. Maybe before, Dustin wouldn’t think anything of it, but now he considers how Eddie had sat on the couch with Steve, his hand in his hair, how he’s been there for him the whole day; and a silent little lightbulb goes off in Dustin’s brain.

Because it goes both ways.

The girls Steve has dated wouldn’t do this—have never done this, at least as far as Dustin can tell, remembering flashes of dates he’d seen on the rare occasions Steve wasn’t driving him places, at the cinema or diner, or…

He gets the feeling that Steve has always been subtly holding some parts of himself back with them. He doesn’t do that with Eddie. He lets him in.  Dustin watches as Eddie tidies the counter, gently nudging Steve out of the way with his hip. It’s like finally solving a puzzle: now Dustin knows which way to look, he can’t believe how he didn’t notice it before.

Instead of saying anything, he busies himself with finding fresh blankets for Steve. As he shakes them out, it occurs to him that this is kind of what Steve must do for him every time he stays over—the difference being that he’s over often enough to have a set of pyjamas waiting for him in the guest room. Steve even ironed them once, which Dustin had teased him relentlessly for, but secretly found it… nice.

As it nears 10pm, Steve suddenly jolts from where he’s sitting on the couch, dislodging Tews from his lap again.

“Sorry, baby,” Steve says distractedly, gives Tews an apologetic pat. Dustin notices the little pinch of stress around his eyes again, and doesn’t mention the fact that Eddie’s already got him calling his cat ‘baby’, too.

“What’s up?” Eddie says. He’s lounging on the floor, has a few of Dustin’s comics spread out in front of him.

“I told Robin I was gonna pick her up, I forgot. Shit, she’ll be closing soon.”

“On it,” Eddie says, almost singsong. In one move, he leaps to his feet and retrieves the keys to his van. “Back quicker than you can say—”

“Jack Robinson,” Dustin finishes; Eddie says it a lot, probably picked it up from his uncle.

Eddie winks at him, turns to Steve and gives a dimpled little smile before leaving.

Steve looks off into the distance, still frowning.

After making sure Tews has safely moved over to his food bowl, Dustin jumps onto the couch, blankets and all.

“Oof,” Steve huffs, “you trying to crush me?” But though he acts like he’s going to shove Dustin off, he never once does.

They poke at each other, complaining about bony elbows and freezing feet. As Dustin adjusts the blankets, he shifts so that Steve’s the one on the inside of the couch. Steve has never mentioned anything, but Dustin’s suspected for a little while that he likes to sleep with his back against a surface; probably makes him feel less exposed.

Now that Eddie isn’t here, Dustin can’t stop his mind from wandering back to Steve, sitting alone in the junkyard. To the thought of him waking up in an empty house, terrified out of his mind.

“You know you can… like, stay over whenever, right?” Dustin says.

Steve has said pretty much the same to him, but Dustin knows there’s a bit of a difference: that maybe Steve finds it easier to offer than take something for himself.

He feels Steve shrug next to him.

“Uh, you sure? Don’t wanna cramp your style, little man.” His voice goes into his parody of a middle-aged suburban dad, and Dustin has a sudden clarity about what his aim is: to make Dustin scoff and roll his eyes at him, and forget about the offer.

But he doesn’t take the bait.

He leans briefly into Steve’s shoulder and says, “You know I’d be fine with it, right? Like, Mike and Nancy, they hang out all the time even if they don’t act like it, just barge into each other’s rooms. Same thing with Lucas and Erica. Like, sure, they annoy each other sometimes, but that kinda comes with the deal.”

“Oh,” Steve says softly, and Dustin glances to the side; he doesn’t know what it is that he’s said, but Steve looks deeply touched. “Thanks, Dustin. Really. Thanks.” Dustin takes a deep breath. Gathers his courage. “I get them, too.”

“Huh?”

Dustin sighs, turns a little into Steve’s side. “Nightmares,” he mumbles.

“Oh,” Steve says again, and he wraps an arm around Dustin. “Oh, bud, I’m sorry. You… you wanna talk about it?”

Dustin pauses. Nods.

Steve squeezes his shoulders. “I know what happened with… with Eddie was awful, man, it’s my fault you went through all that shit alone—”

“No,” Dustin interrupts, because making Steve feel guilty isn’t remotely his aim. “They’re not… they’re not only about Eddie.” He closes his eyes; he’s not told this to anyone. “Sometimes they’re about you. Losing you.”

Silence.

“Sometimes the bats get you, too. Or…” And it’s stupid that what he says next makes him falter—compared to the previous dreams, it’s hardly anything, no blood or gore, but…

“Or you’re—I can see you, and I-I can’t tell which one of us is in The Upside Down, but you… you can’t hear me.”

“Hey.” Steve gently prods Dustin in the cheek, holds his gaze. “I’d always hear you. You never have to doubt that, got it? I’ll always come find you.”

Dustin nods again—for a moment, doesn’t trust himself to speak. He wiggles a little closer, sniffs.

Steve pulls him into a proper hug. “I’m sorry, I just—fuck, I get so scared sometimes, Dustin. I don’t—” He swallows. “I know I don’t say it, but, God, I love you so damn much. I don’t want a-anything to happen to you.”

Dustin returns the hug. Pulls back and makes sure Steve is looking him in the eye when he says, deadpan, “Steve. I hate to break it to you, but so much has happened to me.”

Steve snorts. “You know what I—ugh, you’re the worst.”

Dustin pauses. “But if something ever did happen,” he says carefully, tries to measure his tone to show he doesn’t mean anything Upside Down-related, not anymore, “then we’d be okay, in the end, I swear. You’ve got me, I’ve got you, right?”

Steve exhales. Nods a little jerkily. “Right.”

And what the hell, Dustin figures he might as well say it now—it’s too important to just remain an unsaid, sort of mutually understood thing.

“Steve? I love you, too.”

It takes a second, and then Dustin feels Steve start to shake. This time, the tears aren’t hidden; he just… lets them be.

“Aw, goddamn it,” Steve laughs wetly, “why’d you have to go and say that?”

“You started it,” Dustin says.

“Shut up,” Steve says, lips trembling a bit as he smiles.

Dustin gives him time, just waits in the quiet until Steve’s breathing comes out steady again.

“J,” Steve says eventually.

“Jaws,” Dustin says.

“Oh, boo. Predictable, Henderson.”

“V.”

“…Damn it, all I can think of is Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

“That doesn’t start with V, dumbass.”

Steve lets out a long yawn, like it’s crept up on him. “I know, butthead.”

They go on like that, throwing out letters and movie titles like it’s a tennis match. Gradually, it takes longer and longer for Steve to reply, his voice growing mumbly until it trails off entirely; and Dustin feels him go slack and heavy with sleep.

He looks up at the ceiling, hears the front door softly open and close. Tews is in the hallway, greeting Eddie with a more vocal miaow, and Dustin laughs quietly as he hears Eddie croon, “Oh, baby, hello, aren’t you just the best, huh?”

When he enters the living room, Eddie spots that Steve’s fallen asleep immediately. His expression softens, and then he smiles, looks at Dustin and says, “You’re gonna get a crick in your neck if you keep laying all stiff like that.”

“Was worried I’d wake him up.”

“Nah, you won’t. Here, I’ll help.”

And Eddie very carefully manages to tilt Steve further against the back of the couch, giving Dustin just enough room to move away from the embrace so he can stretch out properly.

Eddie is about to head back to his spot on the floor, where he’s placed a sleeping bag from the van, when Steve makes a tiny, vague noise of distress.

Dustin and Eddie both freeze.

“M’gotta…” Steve sighs, face twitching. His eyes remain closed. “Car keys, where… they need… have to…”

“Shh. Hey, Steve, you’re okay.” Eddie reaches across, strokes Steve’s hair. “You’re… you’re just dreaming, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s it, go back to sleep. You’re at Dustin’s remember? Everyone’s safe.”

“Dustin,” Steve echoes faintly. “Safe…”

Eddie waits until Steve has settled back into a deep, hopefully dreamless sleep, then draws back his hand.

Dustin turns, watches him unzip the sleeping bag and lie down.

“Do you love him?” he asks.

Eddie stares up at him. Then: “Yeah,” he says simply.

“Good,” Dustin says.

Eddie’s mouth parts slightly. He blinks. “That’s it?” he whispers.

Dustin blinks back at him. “I mean, yeah? Should I… um, have said something else?”

Eddie exhales a laugh, smiles. “No, you’re good. That was… great.”

A moment of comfortable silence.

“Hey, Dustin.” Eddie lowers his voice further, even though Steve’s out for the count. “He, uh. He doesn’t know, okay? Not… not yet.”

“I kinda think he does, though,” Dustin says, then pulls back the blanket so he can raise one hand in acknowledgment. “But, like, I’m not gonna tell him. Swear on my mom.”

Eddie laughs again, and he somehow makes it sound thoughtful. “We’ll get there, man.”

And Dustin knows Eddie isn’t just referring to him and Steve, dancing around the beginning of something great.

Dustin thinks of Steve waking up and checking the news for car wrecks. Of the nightmares, shared between them all.

We’ll get there.

“You can come round whenever, too, obviously,” Dustin says. “Like, we could make it a thing? Saturdays or something, mom won’t mind. All three of us.”

Eddie’s expression goes soft again, his eyes overly bright. It kind of reminds Dustin of how his mom sometimes looks at him on the first day of school, or Christmas morning.

“What?”

Eddie smiles. “Nothing.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “Just… wish more people were as kind as you, Dustin Henderson.”

Dustin looks down at him, pride and affection welling in his chest. He can feel Steve’s light snores ruffling his hair, and he shuts his eyes, knows that two of the people he loves most in the world are on either side of him.

We’ll be okay. We’ll get there.

[lucyandherlunacy]

before i start episode 5 of minecraft story mode i thought i'd put my serious first impressions of the "wither storm arc" here

first the positives: surprisingly, i find it really entertaining how everyone talks. the little pg curse words forced into every conversation, like 'crap' and 'hell' etc.? absolute time capsule. it works for me because i can 100% believe that these are people who live in a minecraft server in the 2010s. the wither storm was an excellent threat for the first 4 episodes. genuinely one of the best monster-villains i've seen in a video game. the conflict surrounding its creation and how it spiralled out of hand mean that it can motivate meaningful character tension despite being a monster, and the way it works is honestly really cool. a regenerating, nigh-unkillable mass of destruction that drags everything around it to its death and only multiplies once it's seemingly dead for good? plus the wither sickness and amnesia it spreads and the fate of the people who get absorbed into it? love it. genuinely threatening and spooky the arc had me invested to the point that i wasn't willing to really make any kind of 'evil/mean for the hell of it' decisions in my playthrough. it felt really nice playing jesse as someone who is just earnestly a nice and caring person who tries her best and keeps her gang together. it helps that the voice actress playing femjesse sounds absolutely heavenly she killed it in this role honestly i liked jesse's character a lot more than i expected too! their inexperienced and kinda bumbling yet optimistic outlook compared to say, the kind of stoic hardened adventurer you see in petra was really fun. combined with me missing a qte or two on occasion i definitely bought into jesse as this unlikely hero that came from nothing soren, ivor, lukas and olivia were the standout characters to me in that order. idk what else to really say they're great. i liked the rest of the cast well enough even if i thought some of them were slightly underdeveloped or just didn't appeal to me personally, the former of which i'll get into in the next section. reuben the pig i can't really speak on since i have a personal bad experience with his name that made me wince every time it was said. he was cute i guess ----------------------------------------------------------------- a few criticisms: i did redstonia, and idk if this an issue unique to that area but i found it to be too short. i just kept thinking there would be more to this society or at least more buildup to meeting ellegaard. most of what you see is just people's attempts to win her favor. i especially would've liked to see more of it since it ends up getting destroyed there was only really one time that the character drama felt forced to me, and that was the start of episode 3 where lukas tries to pull the amulet off you and petra scolds you for not saving axel and reuben. it was all uphill from there but that was the only moment i really was like "yeah this is shoehorned lol" mobs are handled kind of weirdly in this game. it's a nitpick at best and not something super serious but i guess it's weird to see zombies and skeletons just kind of being treated as a given in a populous world of various humans. i dunno, i just felt that not taking advantage of the fact that half the generic monsters are the undead or even really mentioning it was a weird move i kind of wish we just had one more episode in this arc. certain moments like ellegaard's death didn't hit as hard as they should have just because i hadn't spent enough time with her to get attached. and generally i think characters like axel and petra could've done with just a little more time in the spotlight for their characters to grow. i think they needed the kind of treatment olivia got in her moment with jesse in the farlands. even having done redstonia over axel's path it really wasn't long enough to add to her character the way that moment did for me ------------------------------------------------------------------ regardless, i genuinely really liked my experience with this game despite all the silly moments. if anything they enhance the experience for me and i can't wait to play more :)

[yuseirra]

I've been jotting down notes here like a madman, but no matter how much I think about it, I don't think Ai's boyfriend would have tried "to scare her" by sending Ryosuke..

Looking at how Kamiki behaves, he’s the type who takes responsibility for things even when it’s not his fault, and it really wears him down.

I mean, the things Ai brought up when she left to him were incredibly cruel...(she didn't blame him, just stated the facts but that alone would have broke him) The incident related to Taiki was something terrible, something for which a mere 11-year-old kid could have no responsibility; he was just a one-sided victim. Yet, when Kamiki brings it up when talking to Aqua, he talks about it as if it was something he had done, saying things like "what I did," and justifies Ai leaving as if it were natural. When someone "accepts" and "agrees with" things to this extreme degree, the possibility of aggressive outbursts is very low. If this guy showed aggression, it should have been MUCH sooner, he couldn't even do anything at Airi, he couldn't say anything when Ai left. He just... stands there with wide eyes all speechless. No sense of anger or active actions of rebuttals.

His personality seems to be one where, when something happens, he doesn’t lash out at others but instead torments himself. He blames himself for everything, thinking, "Oh, it's my fault that things turned out this way," and he’s terrible at self-protection (he’s similar to Aqua in this way, but his low self-esteem makes it even worse). He should have been angry at Ai’s words, but he couldn’t even do that.

This kind of reaction aligns with how he couldn’t say a word in chapter 155. From his perspective, he’s been believing Ai’s lie for over a decade, and then the next thing he says is that he’s going to do something for Ai. His ways of actions are consistent. If he’s still like this after 15 years, then he’s either always been like this, or it’s just his nature, or at least when it comes to things related to Ai (although it seems like this is how he is overall).

It’s not impossible that he "exploded after holding it in for so long," but what happened before Ai died wasn’t enough to provoke someone’s breaking point like that... If it’s true that she only contacted him after four years, well, it’s possible that this character, given his nature, might have been excited, surprised, and desperate, only to be rejected again, leading him to feel miserable and sorrowful. But then he might have thought, "Of course, Ai wouldn’t want to meet someone like me again; that’s only natural," and convinced himself of that. (If someone dumps him, he’s more likely to accept it rather than obsess over it. Think about it, he didn't do anything for 4 years;; and Ai's a celebrity, he could've tried to approach her on many occasions but the protagonist twins have no idea of the dad) Based on what he says, this interpretation makes more sense. I think he could've been just incredibly sad. But then something went wrong, Ai died, and now he’s completely out of his mind, thinking it’s his fault. I honestly don't understand why you'd try to harm someone who'd be willing to show your kids whom you share with them. Is he that crazy and broken? That sort of reaction is very different from how he used to be, and personalities don't change that drastically. Maybe he grew insane after the influence of the black star or whatever, but from how well the characters are written in this manga, I think there should have been signs if he were to be the type to take that sort of toxic action. Kamiki mostly just seemed.. timid and helpless, in his past.

He believes he was never loved by the person they loved deeply, but he also says he's willing to sacrifice their life for them while being so, that’s actually quite a miserable state of mind, isn’t it? Even in such a state, it seems like Kamiki was constantly doing something for Ai. Since he thought Ai didn’t like him, he probably disregarded himself entirely and went off the rails... with a mindset of "I don’t care if I die."

That’s why I think statements from this character like "It’s my fault" or "I did it" are not very reliable to believe at face value. It seems like he’s saying these things because he wants to blame himself, or maybe he can’t forgive himself, so he talks like that. I could be wrong, but at least when it comes to Yura, I think there’s a high chance that he’s less responsible than he thinks and that there’s about a 50% chance that he didn’t even kill anyone; the more I try to examine his character, I feel like he’s not someone who would originally harm others.

Maybe he really did nothing at all... If that’s the case, someone should save this guy. The only explanation I could think of, for having Ai say "help Kamiki" would be this. If it were to be any other way, and Ai was his victim, then the story is just so harsh on Ai, even if she loves him, Kamiki would have to pay for what he's done, not "helped". Well, his life has been pretty miserable. I don’t know what he’s been up to while the main characters grew up and after he broke up with Ai and looking at him all dressed up in a suit and holding champagne, he might have lived his life doing everything he wanted and enjoying it, but I think he’d have definitely been mentally devastated since Ai’s death. He’s probably extremely depressed, to the extent that it's surprising he’s still alive. It can’t be otherwise. I bet he really doesn't care about himself all so much.., the songs imply that very strongly.

This could sound like I'm trying to defend myself for shipping them but really.. I don't think Hikaru tried to scare Ai using Ryosuke in the first place. It just doesn't line up with his personality and what his behaviors used to be like. My drawings are actually drawn on the baseline that he lied about to be hated by Aqua and to get avenged by him (at that point of the story, he still believed that Ai and Aqua both wanted to get revenge on him and he decided to go along with it) but I know, I can be wrong. And there's probably a pretty low chance of this being touched again, but it's been so confusing for me... If he turns out to be like that, then it is what it is, I guess.

What he did, if what he claimed to do is what's happened in truth, is unforgivable. It shouldn't be redeemable, although he did have his own troubles. But with how the stories are lined up, Ai's confession of love comes AFTER he makes such a claim, and she wants to help him. Would the writer really try to justify or stand with a guy who tried to scare her ex by sending a guy with a knife?; and make Ai say those kinds of things? For her to wish not just herself, but to work with her own children -the protagonists- to help a guy like that? That'd be so cruel. I wouldn't be able to support that so wholeheartedly. I'd want to see him get some proper scolding at least, as a minimum but Aqua just let him go after having him see a video. It makes me wrap my head a lot... it's not handled really well if that's what the story really is.

And why send a pretty bouquet, out of all things when you're trying to "make someone feel the same despair"? Couldn't that have been just a well-meant gift? I mean he sent one to Akane and he's held one at a funeral, and those didn't turn out to have ill intent from what's been shown so far. How did this guy even meet Ryosuke in the first place?

I wrote a theory about what could've happened earlier, and in short, I think Nino being Ryosuke's accomplice on this (and her having introduced Ryosuke to Kamiki) would make more sense than this guy. Nino could have had many opportunities to encounter Ryosuke, but I can't really picture exactly how and for what reason Kamiki would've met this guy and formed a long-term alliance of some sort if he's never really wanted to harm Ai.

So yeah.. I'll just draw them lots before things clear up more(maybe it never will and I'm just overthinking things but I'm really curious just how Ryosuke got into contact with this guy; stuff's confusing) and I'll kick Kamiki's butt if he's really done that sort of thing. Idk; his reactions in 155 were even milder than how I first anticipated it to be...he has very low levels of aggression if I've interpreted it right.

It's so fun to think about these things, perhaps I'm a person who will be scammed really easily since I believe in people's goodwill but, it will allow me to draw some things for the time being.

[ask-squidbeaks-agents]

Staring at Four and Kay and rotating them in my mind

Got any 4K bits you haven't had a good chance to share yet that I could ask for?

They are one of *the* ships of all time

// Oh I mean they may be my own characters that I'm obsessed with but I wouldn't call them that... they're just my silly idiots lol- But I do! Mainly stuff I haven't had the chance to draw or write yet- I still find it a little crazy how much some people like these two- Anyway here's a ship chart I've done for them- I've done it for 3/8 and my idol ships but- not important rn lol

// Everything under here is going to be rambles cause I'm a loser who's obsessed with their own characters lol

// I haven't shown much of their dynamic outside Four teasing Kay but generally Kay's pretty normal around Four, he just gets flustered from her teasing and what not. In fact Kay also likes to kinda tease Four- in a very friend like way for instance holding something she wants above her head till she says please.

Kay and Four met about- 4 years prior to this blog or 2 years prior to Splat3, I am attempting to write out this first meeting so once it's done it'll be posted here and maybe on AO3 (however I'm a slow writer- might take... some time lol)

Four has saved Kay's butt on multiple occasions however there was one specific time where she full on saved him from getting shot, it was during this case- Kay had been lured out for getting too close to solving it, Four had tailed him and from the shadows using a charger prevented the assailant from shooting Kay. While there are many reasons he loves Four this was the moment he realised.

The moment Four realised she loved Kay- he was helping her with a mission, and while Four jumped over the fence no problem, Kay's suspenders (that he doesn't wear properly) got caught on said fence causing him to fall and land himself upside down against the fence. Of course Four found it hilarious and it was just this kind of "Oh I love this idiot" moment.

The reason Four, who is much more confident in her feelings then Kay is, hasn't confessed is because 1. she finds him getting flustered cute. 2. she wants him to actually have the confidence in their relationship and 3. she won't admit it but she's actually scared of ruining their relationship- she worries that she isn't actually good enough (which is the same reason Kay won't confess, that and while he knows Four likes him as a friend he doesn't think her feelings are actually anymore than that)

The pair share a few interests, they have similar tastes in music- Four loves it when Kay shares his music, it might not always be her taste but it makes him happy so it makes her happy- they also both like video games- Four's more into RPG or action games akin to like Sonic or Persona whereas Kay is more into puzzles and horror like Resident Evil.

They understand and respect each others boundaries but ironically they are also the except to the rule like in Fours case- Four hates physical contact and others being in her personal space to which Kay then goes out of his way to not be too close to Four but Four actually likes being next to him but she also does very much appreciate the fact Kay understands that boundary.

OH- There's this one little story idea I had for them- something silly not really agent related- Four gets herself caught out in the rain, luckily she's slightly more water resistant but Kay runs into a very soaked Four. Obviously he's extremely worried for her despite her waving off his concerns but eventually he convinces her to at least get indoors and get dried. Four points out his place is closer and they should go there to which he reluctantly agrees. Once arriving Kay instructs Four to stay by the door while he grabs her a towel which he gently throws upon her head once returning. Four being Four then starts to a bit too roughly dry her head to which Kay promptly stops her- reminding her that she's still in very melty state and she'll hurt herself doing it like that. Kay points her to the bathroom where she can go dry herself and get changed (into one of his old t-shirt/shorts) Four complies and returns shortly after dried and with her soggy agent gear which she hands to Kay who throws it into the dryer. He says it wont take long but Four points out its really late, she might as well just- crash at his place for the night- she'll just sleep on his couch. Kay is- a bit taken a back at the suggestion but realises she's right by the time her gear will be dried it'll be super late. So he agrees, reluctantly, to which Four wastes no time in running to his living room and checking through all the games he has (cause she wants to play some) She finds that he's got a game she has been dying to play and begs him to let her try it, obviously he lets her (seeing her face when he agreed was- way too adorable for him) Kay sits and watches Four play for a bit before ending up asleep on the couch next to her, when Four realises this she turns off the game before just- leaning her head against his shoulder for a bit before falling sleep herself.

Kay definitely plays rank in his free time, he's tried to convince Four to join but every time she refuses- at first he thinks it's because she's too high a rank for him (He's like A-) but he learns it's actually because she too low a rank to join which major surprise considering the feats he's seen her do. When he finds out he actually offers to help teach her which she initially refuses, pointing out how her whole family are S/X rank and none of them have been able to teach her. Kay understands but does point out that he doesn't play like her family, they're strict and pro, taking rank very seriously where as he's just- a causal player and is much more loose about playing the games and that might be the approach she needs. Four is yet to actually agree to train with him (more out of embarrassment for herself) but she has started to consider taking up his offer.

[whilomm]

hey listen guys I know its hard to hear but you dont have to say Trump Cheated to point out the problems w this election

Yeah theres tons of votes being thrown out, but that doesnt mean the trump campaign was doing shady backroom deals or anything, it means that this country has places where its set up so that its way too easy to throw votes out for tiny reasons, and its been set up like that for a while. this isnt a new issue Caused By Trump Personally this is existing problem. yes, if you voted by mail or anything, make sure your vote went through and cure it if needed cause those could have massive effects downballot, but dont conspiracize about it, its just your average everyday voter suppression in this bitch of a country.

ideally they would give voters more time to cure ballots for legit issues (like signature mismatch, which yeah if u wanna prevent vote theft on mail ins It Is Important) and notify them better (especially in an age where No One Answers Their Phone) but they make the windows tiny because This Country Sucks. the conspiracy is that "wow, america sucks". very surprising, i know.

meanwhile the bomb threats. suspicious as hell, yes. needs to be investigated, yes. but also they could have come from some random ass maga cunt. I don't know how to tell yall this but some right wing fuckers do in fact love doing a terrorism independently on occasion, no conspiracy needed. now, if it comes out the threats can be directly connected to the campaign somehow? yeah, THEN its direct election interference, and we have to have a whole nother conversation, but realize it could just as easily be some random asshole doing it.

also "the dems lost 15 million votes" theyre still counting. they probably lost votes still, yeah, but you have to wait for them to finish counting to see how many. some of the states still counting like california lean heavy dem so like, the gaps gonna lower at least a bit probs. looking now its more like 10 mil gap. dunno how much thatll change, but neither do you yet. shut up with the numbers til you actually Have The Numbers. the full postmortem cant come til you actually have the body all here to dissect.

unfortunately yall i think half of american voters are just fucking stupid ass cunts who are easily swayed by shit like "egg prices" and "gas prices", and the dems massively failed every step of the way on that front (biden didnt do enough to combat price gouging when it happened, biden still decided to run knowing how fucking unpopular he was with everyone from rightwingers to checked the fuck out normies to leftists and despite barely being able to string a sentence together and then waiting until so fucking late in the race to finally drop out, the dems usual noncommital ass messaging and refusal to take strong stances on shit bit them in the ass once again...)

no, chances are from how its looking right now, trump won, no conspiracy needed. Some of its the rabid maga crowd yeah, but also some of its probs the normie ass checked out average levels of misogyny people who dont even realize their "feelings" about how trump just seems like a "stronger leader" are 100% "he is man therefore strong", some of its people who genuinely fucking vote based on shit like name recognition and had to google "did joe biden drop out". the average american is unfortunately oftentimes a fucking idiot who doesnt pay attention to goddamn anything beyond how their personal finances were these past 4 years, and dems didnt do enough to energize the voting base of people who actually do pay some attention to get them over that gap.

They couldnt get the checked out normies, they didnt even bother with the people who pay attention, and they massively goddamn fucked up.

Theres no one single thing to blame here, the whole thing is a massive messy shit stew. a million things that could have been done, including shit that should have been done over a decade ago by the dems when they really had power, but this country fucking sucks so.

[talentforlying]

thinking about john's multitude of short-lived, often quickly-abandoned apartments for some reason, so a couple details:

although you might expect to find a very wizard-y interior to any place he's currently living at — you know, grimoires, skulls, dust, clutter, etc. — his flats actually tend to be fairly spartan in terms of decor; they've even been accused of looking modern, here and there. he just moves too frequently to really settle in & accrue Things, and has so often had to simply up & leave everything he currently owned behind (with very little chance of getting any of it back) that he no longer attaches much meaning to household objects.

besides the consistent presence of at least one bookshelf with at least 12 books on it, and a sad sprig of garden sage that miraculously hasn't died yet, the one exception to his lack of personal touch is his extensive collection of records + tapes, all of which he has repeatedly & methodically tracked down and bought / bid / traded / stolen / threatened for / blackmailed for / simply taken back whenever an enterprising landlord or new tenant left him the opportunity to do so. his record player itself has never needed to be taken back, since it has always mysteriously vanished from whatever flat he's leaving and mysteriously appeared wherever he's staying; it's convenient like that. his 10th anniversary walkman, however, frequently goes missing, only to turn up again later in a place he KNOWS he checked when he's least expecting it.

lack of home decor isn't to say he doesn't own much, mind: the bulk of his personal possessions — assorted occult paraphernalia, blackmail documentation, miscellaneous crap from his mucous membrane days, and anything he is able to take with him from past flats — are usually stored off-site, in a secure location that can't easily be tied back to him. this guy's been accused of being a satanic killer on multiple occasions, he knows better than to keep all the real shit out where anyone can just swan in and see it.

currently, this storage location (which i lovingly call occult shit central) is an abandoned inner london storefront + adjoining flat that was formerly his old friend ray monde's shop and home, called brick-a-brac antiques. it's decidedly cozier than the last place, (in that there are chairs, plural,) and has fewer bear traps laid out in anticipation of unlucky thieves; in fact, if a person were to visit without already knowing where constantine actually lives, it'd be easy to mistake it as his expectedly-wizardy flat. it's not an ideal location for an occult shit central, too close to the heart of the city and too close to people to avoid drumming up suspicion should constantine attempt any sort of ritual inside, but until chas finally quits ducking the paperwork and signs over his storage lot (which he may or may not be dragging his feet on out of pure resentment for having to do it at all) ray's place is the best option there is.

constantine's previous (and future) storage location was a lock-up in streatham that chas had been letting him use (see: all but surrendered to him entirely) since he got out of ravenscar, but after constantine's sister died, john decided he was done with magic and, in a spontaneous fit of rage, burnt the place down with everything but a few necessities still inside. he regretted this later, when he inevitably returned to the occult scene after just over a year away, and spent a lot of time calling in favors / hypnotizing arson inspectors to try and put together an inventory of everything he'd lost.

in the nearly 20 years since the fire, he's managed to replace or find substitutes for about 2/3 of what he had (occult-wise), and gather enough fresh dirt / do enough favors / orchestrate enough compromising situations to accumulate a little over 1/4 of the political / interpersonal power he once maintained. ( the lack of success in the latter being, in part, because people now in power aren't as familiar with his name & reputation as they once were; in part because people just don't believe in magic as much as they used to, or were otherwise bought by hell / heaven / other parties a LONG time ago; and in part because he's come to absolutely fucking despise most politicians / people in power more than he is willing to work with them, or more than he is able to plausibly believe they won't try to drop him at the first opportunity. )

you would be hard-pressed to find a landlady/landlord that speaks kindly of this man. if he wasn't kicked out for suspicious smells / disturbing noises / sudden infestations / suspected satanic activity, then it's likely that he abruptly up and disappeared in the middle of the night, with no warning and no rent. (on a few occasions, this vanishing act also coincided conspicuously with a gruesome death on the premises, sometimes of the landlady/landlord themselves, although no one's ever been able to prove anything.) frankly it's . . . magic, that people still rent to him.

due to these aforementioned bad ends, he's incredibly lucky if he gets enough time or leeway to take any sort of furniture with him from one place to the next. however, there is one incredibly comfy, wing-backed, sapphire-blue armchair that's miraculously managed to survive every move in the last ten or so years without being reported stolen — even though it has survived every move because it has, in fact, been stolen in the dead of night nearly every single time, by john and at least one of his buddies.

[pixiemage]

I haven't seen anyone else talking about this yet, so I'm sharing a little lore bit I found on a wall outside the Glamrock Salon during my last Ruin livestream. I was doing a Bonnie% run (basically the wet floor bot glitch forced me to restart the game from scratch and speedwalk my way through deactivating all the bots in one go askjdnbajkf) and when I got to the end of the Salon section of the game, I happened to look up with the Vanny mask on and found this on the wall by the bathrooms, right before you loop through the Salon again to get into the Foxy flume ride:

"Gone for a while. Money for food on counter. Emergency contacts on fridge."

Now, this is a level that is very Cassie-focused from the get-go. We already know Roxy is Cassie's favorite, and as the level progresses we are treated to peeks into Cassie's backstory prior to the events of the game. We see her getting her makeup done with Roxy, we see the sad aftermath of her failed birthday, we see Gregory comforting her afterward, and we then see the Missing posters with Gregory's face on them. So we can only assume this sticky note is also specifically related to Cassie's story.

We don't know much about Cassie's dad, but the game does go out of its way to mention him on multiple occasions. We know he is/was an employee at the Pizzaplex. We know he was a technician of some kind. He has a Fazwrench, he "never told Cassie what happened to Bonnie" (implying he would have known that insider information), and we also see mention of Cassie enjoying the Foxy flume ride despite the fact that it closed before it was ever open to the public.

(Granted, that last one is up for debate, because half of it was a flavor text at the bottom of the pause menu, which isn't always reliable as Cassie voice. I also can't really see someone allowing a child to be a ride tester when said ride was later closed before its open due to "safety concerns"...but then again, this is Fazbear Entertainment.)

We know Bonnie is her dad's favorite, and we know he collected the lunchboxes from the old show, meaning he's been a Fazbear fan for years.

(I also love the theory implying that Cassie's dad could be one of Michael Afton's old friends we see in the FNaF 4 crying child cutscenes, because he has the same hair, skin tone, and shirt color as Cassie and is wearing a Bonnie mask to boot...but that's not a theory for this post.)

But the one thing I always wondered was, if Cassie does have a dad back home who cares about her, then why wouldn't she ask for his help in saving Gregory? Or at the very least, why would he have just let her sneak off by herself in the middle of the day when she can't be more then 10-12 year old at best? And then I found this note...

"Gone for a while. Money for food on counter. Emergency contacts on fridge."

I think Dad isn't home right now. I think he's been gone "for a while" and Cassie has been alone. It's possible that this mystery, where he's gone, is attached to the Pizzaplex too, or at least Fazbear Ent., because this franchise never has disconnected characters be mentioned in passing so pointedly like this without it being secretly significant. Though there's not much of a foundation to build a theory on for that one just yet.

But the note and its implications ALSO echo the story that Candy Cadet tells us in the basement of the 'Plex. A single parent and their child live together in their home while a monster is locked away in a basement. The parent leaves the kid home, the monster lures said kid to the basement by mimicking a familiar voice, and then the kid unlocks the door and sets it free. It's not 1-for-1 because obviously it's not Cassie's dad that the monster at the Pizzaplex chose to mimic, but it's a definite parallel that can't be ignored.

I can't help but wonder where Steel Wool plans to go with this in the next installment, since the cliffhanger they left us on can only mean that the story isn't over yet. It's like they say...it always comes back.

[Reblog edit with additional theorizing about Cassie’s dad can be found HERE]

[grey-gazania]

20 questions for fic writers

Yoinked from the lovely @sallysavestheday and @melestasflight!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 65, though one is a compilation of unrelated short pieces.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 199,601

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Tolkien, though I have a few older bits and bobs from other fandoms hanging around.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? In terms of kudos, my various Kidnap Fam stories are overwhelmingly my most popular:

A Stitch in Time (Elrond's life as seen by a quilt)

And They Looked Up and Saw a Star (Early-days Kidnap Fam WIP)

Root and All (Kidnap Fam feat. Maedhros, Elrond, and botany)

Speak No Evil (Kidnap Fam feat. Orkish lessons)

Little Drop of Poison (Kidnap Fam feat. injured Maedhros and healer Elrond)

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to respond to them all, but sometimes my responses are very late, especially if the comment comes when I'm having a depressive episode or a chronic illness flare-up.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Leaving aside unfinished multichaps that will have angsty endings but haven't gotten there yet, it's probably either The Hearts of the Eldar (the Third Kinslaying and all that it entails) or Pain Unbearable (Maedhros' death).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Half Past Ten in the Rose Garden (Caranthir/Caranthir's Wife engagement rom-com). Still debating whether I should add another chapter or wrap it where it is.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Only ever on fics featuring Fingon's wife. Some people get real heated about those.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I don't, nor do I read it. It's very much Not My Thing. I think the closest I've come is The Bed We Share (Fingon/Fingon's Wife, Fingon/Maedhros), which does have a sex scene, but it's not particularly detailed.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? No, though I do enjoy reading them on occasion. I'm going to take this opportunity to recommend Evidence by Camwyn on FF.N, which is the single most delightful crossover I've ever read. (Silmarillion/Discworld)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! A kind reader translated Root and All into Russian, where it seems to have been moderately well-received, at least from what I can tell using Google Translate.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope. I suppose I'd be willing to give it a shot, but I do have Very Strong characterization opinions that might make it difficult.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Maedhros/Fingon! Though Elrond/Celebrian and Caranthir/Caranthir's Wife are close seconds, and Glorfindel/Erestor and Legolas/Gimli are very old and longstanding favorites as well.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Things ain't lookin' good for The Longest Journey I Have Known (Fingon's wife and Celebrian travel to Valinor). I am Extremely Stuck.

16. What are your writing strengths? Worldbuilding, character dynamics, and description.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? PLOT. God, I am so bad at come up with interesting plots. Also probably pacing, I need to improve in that respect.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I do it rarely -- in fact I think Maps might be the only Silmarillion story where I've done it. I included a Quenya translation of part of a Yiddish folk song, and in that case I had help from the Lizard Council, and particularly from the esteemed and dearly missed Darth Fingon, who looked over my translation and corrected a few errors.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Star Wars, back in, uh, 1999, I think? I've been doing this for a good 25 years.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Girl, that's like asking a mother to choose her favorite child! But if I absolutely must pick, it's probably The Flight of Birds, which features Elrond, newly arrived on Balar, dealing with his conflicted feelings about his mother.

Tagging @thelordofgifs, @vidumavi, @cuarthol, @swanhild, @leucisticpuffin, @emyn-arnens, @polutrope, @welcomingdisaster, @zealouswerewolfcollector, @that-angry-noldo, @thescrapwitch, @spiritofwhitefire, @swanmaids, @hhimring, @elfscribe, and anyone else who wants to share -- @ me and say I tagged you!

[megaawkwardhuman]

ok so now that memo is human and isn't in the right head space to be a vampire atm what do we do now?

welp a common fan idea I see being passed around is making memo a witch (if he can never get properly prep himself to become a vampire)

I mean memo has direct ties to witches all the way back in season 2 and if nandermo get together memo will have a good supply of supplies if you know what I mean

now I'm really REALLY down with this idea (I'd love for him to be a vamp buuuuut I wouldn't be mad if he ended up becoming a witch ya know?) but there's like one big thing that makes this thing seem not at all possible is the fact that this show ain't known for bringing up things that happen in past episodes/minor characters much

don't get me wrong half of the reason I love this show is that bat shit crazy things happen/are implied/are said and then just never get brought up again (that kinda shit is my jam)

buuuut in order for the whole thing to work guillermo is going to need witches and the witches from the episode of the same name have never been brought up since that episode

so that's it then? there's no chance it'll happen? here's my little take

well 1 we all thought evie wasn't going to show up ever again and she was in this season

plus this show is very unpredictable and they might just show up one day so jot that down

2 and the whole reason why I'm making this post people tend to forget one tiny little thing

THE GUIDE KNOWS MAGIC

and this isn't a one and done thing no no no

she's used it in seasons 4 and 5 and they were used in big ways (well at least as big as a b plot)

and the guide herself likes memo enough to spare him from being trapped in season 5 episode 9

so here's what I'm pitching:

the way (or at least a way) you become a witch in wwdits canon is through reading and learning from books

books that the guide canonically have, have read, and on the rare occasion use

books she could share with memo!

so in season 6 I think we should see the guide and guillermo interact and talk to each other more

maybe after a bit have the guide slowly but surely teach him some magic (maybe guillermo asks her out of curiosity? maybe she's using it as an excuse to talk to him more? idk idk)

and after a bit if guillermo likes it have him borrow books from her and become a full on witch!