#besides Oscar Isaac of course.

[jokersfangirl84]

Frankie!!! Oh dear heavens. I'm writing a fic about him right now. He is so.......🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

PEDRO PASCAL as FRANKIE MORALES

TRIPLE FRONTIER (2019)

[rosesanddecay]

Oscar Isaac Characters Eating You Out

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Anselm Vogelweide, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia x afab!reader (Pronouns and descriptions aren’t used for the reader)

CW: SMUT (did you look at the title?), pet names, slight size difference, fingering, face riding, mention of periods, slapping, toys, anal, dub-con, sub and dom roles, squirting, overstim/crying, untranslated Spanish, and possibly some other things (All are just brief mentions)

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best. Not proofread or heavily edited.

(Lmk if you want more in the future)

Miguel O’Hara - Across the Spiderverse

Miguel is a tired man, always overworking himself with the Spider Society. All because he’s extremely thorough, never leaving something to be completed at a later date. Because of this, it’s not often he gets the chance to destress.

So, when it comes time to pleasure, he’s just as thorough. Miguel makes sure you feel just as much pleasure as he does.

Of course, because of his lack of free time, Miguel doesn’t care where or when it happens, he’s eating you out.

You’re in his office? Bend over.

You’re on your period? I guess he’s not beating the vampire allegations.

Pick a time or a place, he’s there, willing to thoroughly please you in whatever way he can.

Miguel is on his knees with your legs over his shoulders. His claws gently pricking at the soft of your thighs as he holds you still.

If you squirm too much, he is glaring at you from overtop your heat, pinning you in place with one of his massive hands.

His tongue runs laps in your cunt, teasing your clit and slurping you up. He’s eating you like a starved man, letting out small growls every now and again.

Miguel will refuse to touch himself until you’ve climaxed multiple times. He has the stamina to keep going for hours, and this is just a warm up for him. Besides, he’d rather see either of your pretty lips wrapped around his length over his hand.

When you’re a trembling, sopping mess underneath him, he’ll finally stop. His lower face is shiny as he licks his lips and hungrily smirks at you.

“Don’t think this is over, mi amor. This is just the beginning…”

Marc Spector / Steven Grant / Jake Lockley - Moon Knight

Marc wants you to feel as much pleasure as possible, because while he denies it, a part of him is a people pleaser. He always puts his partners above himself, including during intimate moments.

Marc is experienced and he will take the time to know what you like. Marc practically memorizes your body and what gets you riled up. But if he has the choice, he has you on your knees as he eats you out from behind.

Marc has you bent over as his tongue hits that perfect spot, causing you to tremble and moan in pleasure.

He loves seeing you grasp the sheets as you bury your face in your pillow, to him it’s a sign of validation, evidence that he’s making you feel good.

His hands grab at your thighs and ass as he goes to town. If he feels you try to pull away, he’ll swat your rear until you stay still.

When his mouth starts to ache, Marc will pull up and insert his fingers instead. He’ll move them in the way that has your toes curling and has muffled screams coming from your pillow.

Of course though, he finishes the job with his mouth back on you, drinking up every ounce you give him. He’ll lick his lips clean and kiss your cunt in praise.

“You did so good for me, darling…”

Steven is the most insecure of the boys. He never had the chance to date before, so he’s always worried about making you feel good. He especially worries when he hears how Marc talks about your guys' time together. Steven wants to make you feel just as good.

But Steven isn’t as affirmative as Marc or Jake.

Steven will keep you on your back, his hands feeling his favorite parts of your body. He loves to caress you.

Steven likes to be thorough but also to go slow. He wants you to feel every little moment he makes.

His tongue hits the spots you love, but it’s methodical, careful.

Steven pleasures you as though you could fall apart if he were to be too rough. But if you grind your hips or grab his hair, he’ll go a bit faster.

He lets you have control, his goal is to make you feel good, so why wouldn’t he listen to you?

Despite being focused on you, Steven won’t hesitate to make himself feel good too. Whether it’s with his hand or just humping at the mattress in front of him.

He definitely gets pussy drunk, babbling as dines on you.

“So pretty… so pretty…”

Jake, on the other hand, prefers to be a bit risky.

As much as he loves private moments with you (like the other boys), the thrill of getting caught makes it more exciting for him.

He’ll absolutely eat you out in his car or in an empty alleyway. All because you dressed up pretty for him or gave him that perfect smile of yours.

Jake likes to be quick but efficient with you, at least in public.

Jake sinks to his knees and pushes you against the brick wall. His hand stays on your stomach, making sure you don’t scramble from his grasp.

He’d start slow, intentionally making you panic about getting caught, but as he gets quicker, you become a moaning mess above him.

Jake will smirk as he makes quick work of you, making you finish quicker than you thought possible.

“Tan perfecta/o, mi vida… tan perfecta/o para mí…”

All of them love you so much, so sometimes after a hard day, they’ll each take turns making you feel good.

Steven most likely starts, being that he’s the most gentle. He’s a good warm up and he’s good for calming down without actually stopping. But with the other guys there too, he definitely is being a bit more aggressive to keep up.

Marc and Jake will take their turns, teasing and riling you up. Just between those two alone, your position is constantly changing, there’s no chance you’re getting sore from being stuck in one place.

Each of the boys will make sure you feel good, prioritizing you above all else. They even monitor each other through the many mirrors littered throughout the apartment. They just want their darling to feel good <3

Each will take their time, only stopping when you’re an overstimulated, crying mess.

Soft kisses and cuddling definitely ensue afterwards.

“Our beautiful darling…”

Basil Stitt - Lightningface

Basil, the pathetic, desperate, possessive loner. He will do anything for your attention. He will follow your every order. You don’t even have to touch him, he’ll cum just from eating you out. He loves you that much.

Basil is aggressive as he eats you out, desperate to make you finish. Because if you finish, you’ll stay, despite his scars.

He moans and whimpers more than you do as you pull him deeper into your cunt. His hands grapple at every curve of your body, desperate to make sure you’re real, that you want him.

Why would anyone want a monster like him? Even his own girlfriend cheated on him before his accident happened.

As he tastes you, he desperately chases your climax.

He needs you to feel good. He needs you.

When your legs tense around his head and you start praising him, he starts crying and finishes as well, his seed staining the floor below him.

His head falls against your inner thigh as his tears fall fast. He grabs at you harshly, his fear causing his chest to ache.

“Imsosorry… staywithmeplease…”

Anselm Vogelweide - Big Gold Brick

Anselm is a weirdo, a big horny weirdo, let’s get that out of the way.

Anselm will touch you and do whatever he wants whenever he wants. This kinky switch of a man will eat you out in any way possible, and it’s never simple.

Per his request, he lies tied up with you over him. His arms are completely restrained as he lets you control the situation.

Your glittering heat flutters as he blows on you, smirking at every little reaction you have. He loves your noises, especially when you’re loud.

Eventually you sit on his face, and groaning happily, he licks up into you.

Your hips rock back and forth on his face, his nose hitting your throbbing clit harshly. You’re breathing heavily as Anselm eats you up, his beard scratching the back of your legs as your hips move.

Despite being such an odd man, he absolutely knows what he’s doing, like�� he’s extremely talented with his tongue alone. With every squirm and noise you make, he’s watching you like a hawk.

Your high builds and comes crashing down quickly. But when you start to move off, he harshly demands you get back.

“We aren’t done yet, doll. If you don’t get back on, I’ll kill myself.”

Blue Jones - Sucker Punch

Blue doesn’t eat you out for your pleasure, no- it’s to prove a point.

He owns you, just like he owns all the people working for his club. And because he owns you, he has to make sure you know how good only he can make you.

You were in the dressing room when he approached you, his eyes hungrily scanning your body.

Whether out of fear or attraction, you do everything he asks. So when he asks you to strip bare, you do exactly that.

With his head between your thighs, it’s hard to remember that this man could kill you without a second thought. He’s just too talented with his tongue.

Running a club has its perks, including having lots of practice in making others feel good. With all this practice, this man will do anything to make you squirt. He sees it as a sign of victory, that his toy likes him the best.

Your back is arching as Blue hits your sweet spot. Your hips lightly hump his face and nose, chasing your high. His hands grip your legs, letting you ride his face more and more.

You squirt all over his face, causing him to hum in approval.

When you finish, he licks a stripe through your arousal. Blue’s eyes meet yours.

“Bunny, do you act like such a desperate whore with all the clients?”

Poe Dameron - Star Wars

Lover of the sky, Poe is known for being quite flirty. With the constant travel, Poe has had his share of hookups and romantic partners.

Which is why, of course, Poe would do anything to make you feel as much pleasure as possible.

He’s cocky, sure, but when he brags about how loud he makes you scream, you know it’s the truth.

After a long day of travel, Poe is clinging to your cunt.

As his tongue runs laps through your folds, you tightly grip at his curls.

He’s already made you finish at least twice, and he’s desperate for another.

Your cunt is trembling from overstimulation, broken moans escaping your lips as you lazily try to pull him away.

With every faint tug of his hair, he pulls your body closer towards his mouth, not letting you escape.

His tongue circles your clit like a dehydrated man, wanting you to release and give every drop of yourself to him again and again.

When Poe gets you to release over his tongue once more, he doesn’t back off, speaking as he licks every drop.

“Just one more… Can you handle one more for me, baby?”

Nathan Bateman - Ex Machina

Nathan doesn’t eat you out normally, he much prefers using his fingers if he has to.

This man prefers making himself feel good above all else, he only tolerates making you feel good. Which is why he always makes you finish quickly or sometimes not at all, moving on to make sure he can get his pleasure from this exchange.

The only time he has eaten you out was when he walked in on you having a wet dream, mumbling his name as your legs spread under the blankets.

You wake up moaning loudly, Nathan tucked between your thighs, mouth to your aching core.

As he hits your sweet spot, you instinctively grab his head. His buzzed hair provides nothing to grip to as your hips sleepily grinds his face.

Everything feels extra sensitive and good, the lack of previous priority making you extra needy.

His beard provides a scratchy and satisfying feeling as his tongue laps up your soaked folds.

He doesn’t even acknowledge that you’ve awoken, now on a mission to make you finish on his mouth.

His hands grope at your waist and ass, gripping at all the soft flesh he can.

When you finish with trembling legs, he lifts his head, his beard glistening in your juices. His hand palms over his cock as he sits on his knees and stares down at you.

“Get up. It’s my turn.”

Duke Leto Atreides - Dune

Leto is a very busy man, but he does worship you when he gets the chance.

Constantly being needed by everyone, it feels nice to relax and give himself to the one person he wants to: you.

Sure, sometimes you’re under the table servicing him, but it’s not often he gets the chance to do the same for you.

He’s on his knees, worshiping your pussy like it is a divine god. Leto is praying to you with his tongue.

Leto is so focused on you, he can’t even acknowledge his own pleasure before he knows you’ve had some release.

He has to give his baby some extra care while he has the chance <3

His hands touch every inch that he can, worshiping all of you that he can.

Leto’s nose bumps your clit as he watches you like prey, he just loves your blissed out expression.

When you two make eye contact, he makes his assault that much more pleasurable. Whether that’s adding in his fingers or reaching deep into you with his tongue. Man loves his eye contact.

When you climax, he’s smiling and peppering kisses over your inner thighs.

“I still have time, shall we go for another?”

Prince John - Robin Hood (2010)

John is a man of pleasure, and he will devour you as long as he gets some in return. Just… never mention your ex or past relationships, he gets jealous.

He loves different positions and experimenting with you, as long as you’re both having fun or a good time, then he’s more than happy.

John, the whiny man, is begging into your cunt as you two eat each other up.

Your mouth is wrapped around his length as he laps up your warmth.

With each stroke of your tongue, he moves his in tandem. Every moan you gain from him, wonderfully rumbles your pussy.

His hands grasp and pull your ass cheeks, kneading the soft flesh.

John eats you like a starved man, because despite his regal status, you are by far the best meal he’s eaten.

At least that’s what he’d be saying if it weren’t the end to your guys night of pleasure, and John didn’t need an heir.

He probably isn’t the most thrilled to be eating his and your cum out of your pussy, but it's you, so he can’t complain.

Together, you finish and clean each other of every last drop, leaving both of you exhausted.

John pats his shoulder.

“Come, rest your head.”

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Triple Frontier

Santiago loves to tease you. No matter the situation or place, he will edge you until you’re crying.

He likes seeing you as a whimpering mess, begging for some relief.

You were just on the cusp of finishing when Santiago pulled away, watching as you begged him to let you cum.

He’d chuckle and hold your hands hostage, not letting you get the chance to finish what he started.

As you start to come down from your high, he’d go back in, licking and eating your cunt out.

As you squirm, chasing your release, he’d cage your legs in place with his arms and hands. You’re not allowed to escape him or his constant teasing.

When he finally lets you finish, you’re a trembling mess, your hole clutching at his tongue as he eats every last drop.

“You’re so cute like this… maybe I should go again?”

—————————————————

Thanks for reading!

Lmk if you want me to add more of his characters or do a different set of characters (like Genshin men for ex.)

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

[whumpsoda]

We Search For Stolen Personhood - H is for Home

Another piece for this month’s event Alphabet of Whump by @alphabetofwhump!! Also yes I will be posting these out of order because I can’t bring myself to care :]

Masterlist

cw: pet whumpee, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, mentions of past abuse, recovering whumpee

——————

Oscar studied him, the rescue now named Wesley, as he sat right before the sliding glass door to the backyard. It was halfway slid open, people constantly going in and out, but he didn’t budge from his spot. Neither did the man behind him, Graham, guarding him diligently as he always did.

Wesley inspected each and every inch visible of the relatively large backyard, a sea of healthy green adorned with a red painted porch and scattered about, deteriorating lawn chairs. The wind chimes decorating the trees sang with the faintest of a breeze, cicadas littering the trees and chirping behind the others’ chatter.

With long, slender fingers, he played with the hem of his shirt, a soft baby blue that Isaac had picked out for him after he’d panicked picking something himself. That was okay, though. That was expected.

Wesley liked to gaze out of anything he could, Oscar figured, to catch any glimpse possible of the actual outside world. He’d dropped some little hints about how he’d been treated during his time as a boxie, and the conclusion was that he hadn’t been allowed outside ever. Wether that meant from the house or just one particular room.

Now was the time to change that.

“Would you like to come on out?” The two’s eyes jerked to Oscar as he spoke, both staring with a mixture of piqued curiosity and suspicion. “Everyone’s waiting for us. It’s a real nice day.”

Wesley slunk an inch toward him, brows furrowing incredulously over his face. “…Out?” He muttered, jaw falling a smidge slack before he took another glance through the window with large, saucer shaped eyes.

“Yeah. You can, here. Go outside, I mean. I’d feel terrible keeping you cooped up with all these people all the time. Some fresh air’ll do you good.”

“B- but…,” picking at the skin of his fraying nail beds, he swallowed, hair brushing right over and concealing his eyes further. It was a plain mystery how he could even see with his bangs in his face all the time. “What if… is it not dangerous?”

“The backyard isn’t, I assure you. Definitely not our cozy old patio.”

He thought it over for a moment, cocking his head as he inspected the others through the glass. Florence, Otis and Edith prepared the barbecue, Agnes and Isaac sitting together on the lawn, while Joey sat beside her radio. All that was missing were the two newest rescues.

Pushing himself to his feet he stood, prompting Graham to follow, Wesley intertwining their hands before reaching out his other to Oscar. “Will you… go with us? Please?”

One hand was a reach of trust, no matter how little. Wesley trusted him, or at the very least was at the beginning of it, and Oscar allowed the sensations of blossoming warmth in his chest to bloom across his face. “Of course.”

Stepping through the door and onto the wooden patio, Oscar gestured for the younger man to follow. Instead Wesley simply stood, unmoving, his gaze flickering from the floor to him. “It’s alright. You really don’t have to if you aren’t ready just yet.”

He shook his head, huffing with a look of watered down frustration. “But, um, I want to. I really, really want to. Please. Please.” He insisted, still stuck in place.

“Alright then. Take your time, okay? No rush.”

Wesley stayed in his spot, carefully debating his options with a look of intense focus as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Thought was scrawled over his features, and so was fear as his breath picked up pace. Gently, Oscar began circular motions with his thumb, and the rescue’s grip relaxed, if only for a second.

Swallowing, gulping down thick saliva tainted with acidity, he made up his mind, ever so slowly placing one foot to the porch.

Then, another followed. His clutch on Oscar’s hand was deepening, growing tighter as he gasped.

Gaping in awe of all that was around him, the trees, the people, the sun, the sky, the birds, the everything, he giggled softly in excitement as was hidden by a trained smile. He was radiating, almost as if he were to explode with the mass of shining joy locked inside of him.

Even so, he nudged Oscar closer.

“Hey, guys!” Isaac called from the grass, waving her hands high. Agnes sat beside her, supplying a smaller wave as she curled her hands through the bunches of green below her.

“Would you like to sit with them?” Oscar invited, pointing to the two on the lawn.

Wesley parted his lips as if to answer, but turned back to Graham before any sound could escape. Softly whispering into his ear, the two went back and forth for a long moment, before Graham sunk to his knees over the wood. Wesley pecked him quick on the forehead, and his gruff exterior melted to mush. “Yes! Yes, please.”

Allowing Oscar to pull him along to the others, he hid not-so-discreetly behind him, using the older man as a sort of shield. All the while he gawked at the world around him, digesting everything little thing he possibly could.

Wesley peaked out around him as they made their way over so very, very slowly, catching notice of something tucked in Isaac’s lap. “That’s a football.” Plainly he stated, allowing more of himself to be revealed.

“Oh. Yeah. I just grabbed it.” She threw it up lightly, turning it around in her hands as she brightened. “You wanna play?”

“Yes. Please.” Wiggling his toes in the grass, he made a point to stare at the ground asking, “Will you play?”

With one knuckle and a grin, Oscar adjusted his glasses. “I’d love to.”

Isaac tossed Wesley the ball, her and Agnes making their way to the other side of the yard. He turned it around in his hands as they departed, lips pursed as his fingers grazed over each and every little ridge or bump.

“Ready!” Agnes called, interrupting the run of his mind, readying himself to make a throw.

Watching Wesley with keen eyes, seeing just how he positioned himself, how he held the ball, Oscar found it was all exactly correct and practiced without any instruction at all. Like it was ingrained, etched in his mind and flooded back throughout him as soon as he came in contact with it. There was no doubt about it.

Eyes wide and jaw falling slack, Isaac stumbled by a step as the ball slid directly into her grasp with ease.

“Woah!” Oscar exclaimed, adjusting his cap and exchanging a look with the younger man beside him. “You’ve got some arm!”

“Yeah!” Isaac agreed, throwing Wesley a grin and a thumbs up as she tossed the ball back. “Throw it again, Wes!”

He stole a look for approval to Oscar, before eagerly he nodded his head in anticipation. “Okay! Okay!” He readied himself for another throw, one nearly identical and just as perfect as the last, spinning swift spirals as it made it’s way through the air.

Oscar’s expression was lit with joy and a good bit of surprise, instinctively ruffling his rough hand through Wesley’s mop of hair. “Damn! You’re awesome, kid!”

He blushed, hard, covering his face with his hands as he chuckled, bubbly and high pitched, even letting out a little bit of a snort. Surprised at that he covered his mouth, cowering back. “That- I’m sorry-,”

“You’re all good.” Oscar reassured. “You’ve got a nice laugh. No need to be ashamed of it.”

Shaking his head, he ran his hands shakily down the skin of his arms. “Sir doesn’t like it. It’s ugly.”

Forced to hold back so many things to say that rose to mind, so many words to express his disgust with every sir, ma’am, master or mistress that was ever spoken of, Oscar shifted his hands to his hips. “Well I like it. A lot. And I think that should mean a hell of a lot more than his opinion, because it’s wrong.” The words came out sounding a bit weaker than they did in his head, but he stuck with them anyways.

Wesley was silent at that, catching the ball for the last time, before flopping to the ground.

“You good?” He positioned himself sort of like one would making a snow angel, placing the football to lie on top of his belly.

Sighing, letting all of the air out of his lungs, he let himself focus on the setting sky, a mixture of reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks. Almost looking like a painting. “Yes. I just… sort of realized where I am. I don’t know.”

Oscar plopped to the ground beside him, shrugging off his hat to better see the view. “Taking it all in?”

“Yes, sir”

“Oscar.”

He hesitated. “Yes, Oscar.”

Silence swallowed them whole for a beat, except for not really because noise danced all around them. Out of the corner of his eye he kept his sight sat on Wesley, contemplating the way he let his eyes flutter to a close, limbs dipped into the Earth as if someone were to come along and pry him from it.

He shifted back to the sky long enough to miss Wesley’s face twisting in a contortion of pain as a wince slipped out, and only returned once he was sat criss cross and holding his head in one hand. Though, he noticed how his eyes were glazed over with a glossy sort of finish. “Home.” He mumbled, loud enough for Oscar to catch but quiet enough for him to mistake.

“Hm?”

Hanging his head, he trailed his nail around in the dirt. “I don’t know. That’s just what this feels like.” He paused. “But it hurts when I think that. Here,” he pointed to his chest, then his head, “and here.”

“Home.” He parroted, the smallest of a quiver crawling it’s way over his lip, forcing Oscar to hide it with a smile. “This can be home. If you want it to be.”

Bringing his knees to his chest he shoved his head between his legs, mumbling something Oscar wished he’d picked up. “I hope so.”

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[jake-g-lockley]

The Sun, Sky and Beyond (Moon Knight x reader): Valentine’s Day Special

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY BABIES <3 There’s nothing in this world greater than love and so may love find you in every aspect of your lives! Here’s a little day with the moon boys xxx

Word Count: 2.4k of fluff

You squint at the light that hit your eyes as you woke up to the sound of birds twittering outside your flat. You could smell the sunlight as it warmed the sheets, creating a comforting little bubble around you. You stretched your arm out only to find the space beside you empty. You hum and turn over onto the boys’ side, twisting your neck so that you could inhale their sweet familiar scent, grinning to yourself. The corner of the bed dipped slightly and your smile deepened, as their presence wrapped you in their embrace without them even laying a finger on you.

“Pst, baby, wake up.” Steven’s British drawl met your ears and greeted your brain with a shot of dopamine. 

You stretched your arm towards him and beckoned him to join you. You feel the mattress move around you as he crawls over you and gently lays on top of you, the heaviness of his full body weight cracking and popping your sleepy joints. You groaned and laughed as Steven traced your neck with his nose, peppering tiny kisses in its wake. 

“Let’s stay here forever, please?” you mumble as you run your hands through his unruly hair that was feathery soft and fluffy with sleep. 

“I’d love that … but we have plans, love.” Steven whispered between kisses. 

“We can still carry out ‘plans’ in bed, angel” you grinned as Steven slowly lifted his head from your neck. 

“Now listen to me you little devil, don’t you dare tempt me with your tricks!” He feigned shock. “I’m left with no choice, I’ll have to banish the devil with my own hands.”

You gasped as one of Steven’s hands collected yours at the wrist and pinned it above your head before digging his fingers into your side. Steven knew all of your sweet spots and his skilled fingers tickled away, making you yelp and scream like a hyena. One of his legs pinned yours down, immobilizing you and you had to admit defeat before you peed yourself. 

“OKAY, I’LL LISTEN!” you squealed when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

Steven let go and brought his hands up to your face, brushing your hair away from your eyes with a smile.

“That’s my good girl. When we get back, we’ll most definitely listen to your plans, okay?” Steven smirked cheekily before giving you one last kiss and pulling you up with him.

“I do have a question for you though.” He says as he pulls you to the edge of the bed and kneels down on both knees in front of you.You raise your eyebrows to prompt him to continue. He reaches out and you think he's going to tuck your hair behind your ear but he pulls out three roses leaving you bewildered.

“Will you, my love, be our valentine?” Steven says, wiggling his eyebrows.

There was a pregnant pause as you stared at Steven. In that few seconds, you had a quaint realization that you were the luckiest human on the planet. Not many people are blessed with a loving partner, but you? You were blessed, not with one, but with three. Your heart ran itself on overdrive as it tried to pump blood cells into your brain for you to answer Steven’s question. 

“Of course,” you breathed. “Of course I’ll be your valentine, all three of you.”

You were blushing and you swear Steven could feel your cheeks burning from where he knelt when he gave you a big toothy grin. You hid your face in your hands and felt like a schoolgirl for a second. 

“Oh no, darling, what’s wrong?” Steven says, gently prying your hands from your face. 

It’s not like you forgot it was Valentine’s Day, it’s just that today was the first time anyone had asked you to be their Valentine. After a whirlwind few months of dating your best friend, happiness you felt had infatuated you to the point that the idea of Valentine’s Day had totally slipped from your mind. 

“It’s my first Valentine’s Day.” you whisper with a small smile. 

“Oh!” Steven exclaimed. 

“You scared me a little, but I think you may have forgotten that it’s our first Valentine’s Day too, if it makes you feel any better.” He said soothingly, as he caressed your cheek with his fingers.

You nod and watch as he stood up and scooped you up into his arms, making you giggle. 

“We promise to make it count.” he said firmly as he carried you to the bathroom.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You come out of the bathroom a few minutes later to find a long, billowing sleeved lilac maxi dress that had a long slit up the front lying on the bed. You gaped at it for a while before you noticed the shade and smirked. Scanning the room for any sign of your boys, you sneaked into your secret compartment in the closet and pulled out a lacy lilac lingerie set that you had been saving, saying your goodbyes to it before putting it on. You quickly run through your hair and make up while Steven hopped in the shower. 

Once you applied your kohl, Marc stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. Your eyes widen slightly to take his physique from the reflection of the mirror as he walks towards you. 

“Stop checking me out, you perv!” He tutted before giving you a downward smile as you rolled your eyes. 

He slung his arms around you and before you realized, he brought his hands to the back of your neck and with a click, left a beautiful white gold chain with a stone pendant. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart. A little gift to add to your otherworldly appearance.” He smiled before kissing the top of your head and smoothing out your curls.

You stared open mouthed at the chain, your fingers grazing the flat oval stone. The stone was a peculiar color and you didn’t recognise it. On one side your initials were carved with a tiny intricate sun beside it. 

“Marc, baby, this is lovely- why are you smiling like that?” You looked at Marc who had a mischievous smile on his face. 

Otherworldly appearance.

“Marc, you did not!” you gasped, grabbing the pendant for a closer look. 

“I, in fact, did not do anything stupid.” Marc said chuckling, “Asked the boss for some help.” 

“It’s bloody beautiful.” you cradled the moon rock pendant in your hands standing up to press a kiss onto Marc’s lips. 

“Glad you liked it, honey,” he said, glancing at the clock. “Alright, give me a few minutes, then Jake will show you your next surprise. 

There’s more ?!

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You hold tightly onto Jake's hands as he leads you through a grass field, a soft satin blindfold obscuring your vision. The fresh smells of earth and grass hit you first, making you take a deep breath. You could feel the breeze flow through your hair. You feel yourself gently being pulled down. Instead of sitting on grass, your skin was presented with the feeling of soft wool. You could feel Jake slipping your sandals off and a rustle of something.

“You can open your eyes now. I hope you like it.” Jake’s lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered. 

Nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to see. Your eyes were delighted by the rolling meadow before you, continuous hills of green that never seemed to have an ending. The bright sun and the singing birds made you think that you had stepped right into paradise, the seclusion of the place convincing you of that fact even more. You looked down and gapped at the enormous crochet blanket that had two large picnic baskets and pillows that surrounded you and Jake. A bouquet of orchids that matched the color of your dresses was perched on your lap and you lifted your hand to graze the flowers. 

“Oh boys! This is beautiful.” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around Jake’s neck and hugging him close. 

A Valentine’s Day picnic was definitely up there on your list of cute things that you’d never thought you would experience. You watch as Jake opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass for the both of you before handing you one. You clink your glass with his and take a sip, the floral aroma of the wine tickling your nose and the citrusy flavors bursting on your tongue. You found out that they had filled the picnic baskets to the brim with your favorite snacks and fruits. 

The boys had a system of taking turns and after your first glass of wine had been drained, you found Steven staring at you with a dopey look on his face. 

“Come on, I have something for you.” He said, patting his lap.

“What here? In the open?” your eyes widened slightly.

“Gods, not that genius, lay your head here.” Steven laughed, rolling his eyes.

He pulled out his notebook as you settled your head on his lap, staring up at him. 

“I wrote something for you.” Steven started shyly.

You nodded, encouraging him to go on, excited for what was in store for you.

“I’ve heard stories of angels but never thought they were true, but in seeing you I have become a believer. I only wake up with the dream to see you, to hear the air that is filled with your honeyed voice and to feel the sand that blossoms like flowers at your feet. In your beauty, I perceive life and with you beside me, I recognise myself and sought to follow your shadows. Looking beyond your divine appearance and seeing your soul, I see the true colors of your heart. The moon and white clouds beautifully blend with each other, so who else is there to understand the desires of my heart? My heart is not like yours as it has gone through changes and my reality is confusing, but you’ve managed to create a painting that involves my troubled soul crossing with yours.”

When he finished, you thought that your heart had stopped for a second. The words sunk deep into your skin and stitched your heart from all its sorrows, drowning you in a sea of Steven’s undying love. You were quite frankly speechless from the passage he had read from you, wondering how someone could see you the way that he did.

“Steven, shit, that was beautiful.” Your eyes began to well up with tears as you sat up to capture his lips in a blazing kiss. “You really think of me like this?”

“All the time, my love.” he breathed.

You spent the next few hours just talking to your boys about everything and anything under the sun. Your short attention span and the buzz from the alcohol caused you to jump from one topic to the next like a live wire but the boys just chuckled and jumped along with you. 

“It’ll be so cute to raise children in a place like this, quiet and sweet, away from the bustle of the city, just being ourselves.” you say, popping a grape into your mouth.

“Oh yeah for sure. By the way, remember the tiny police station we passed by? When the children grow up we’ll definitely find them there on a daily basis because the little delinquents will be your children.” Marc said, grinning from ear to ear. 

You hurled a grape at him which bounced off his aviators.

“Fine! Our children, happy?”

“That’s right, our.” you huff, settling back into the pillows.

While you were snacking, Marc pulled his guitar out and started to sing for you. It was your favorite thing in the world, watching Marc’s fingers dance lightly as he strummed the strings, humming to the tune. 

“Howlin’ green, green rocky road,

You promenade in green,

Tell me who you love,

Tell me who you love?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“I love you!” you giggle.

His sweet voice envelopes you like a warm blanket. 

“When I go by Baltimore,

Ain't no carpet on my floor,

You come along, and follow me.” 

“I’ll follow you wherever, my love.” You smile as he finishes with a flourish. 

He continued to serenade you until it was Jake’s turn and he shooed you away to explore while he set up everything. You walked around until you spotted a bed of wild daisies, plucking them and making two crowns, one for you and one for Jake. When you got back, Jake had set up paint, brushes and two small sized canvases. 

“Jake! I have a surprise for you, close your eyes please!” You say as you hide the flower crowns behind your back.

As soon as he closed his eyes, you lightly balanced the flowers atop his head of curls, holding a compact mirror in front of him before asking him to open his eyes. 

He squinted at the mirror and smiled radiantly when he noticed the crown on his head. 

“Where's yours?” he asked.

You presented your crown to him and he gently took it from you, placing it on your head and smoothing down your hair, kissing your forehead and nose. 

“Mi reina.” Jake declared as he bowed, making his crown go slightly lopsided, extending his hand for you to take. 

You blushed and took his hand, letting him help you sit down. The both of you then got onto painting. Almost immediately, Jake ditched the brushes and started painting with his fingers, scooping globs of paint and slathering it onto the canvas. You followed suit soon and found it much more fun, layering the paint with your fingers. You stop after a while, watching as Jake’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his lips cutely pursed together. You silently lean over, until you booped Jake’s nose with a tiny bit of blue paint. 

Jake looked at you with wide eyes before crossing his eyes to look at his nose. He blinked twice and you jumped into action leaning over and kissing him dramatically with a big muah. He finally snaps out of his daze and wipes his fingers, pushing the art supplies aside before tackling you. He locks you in his embrace and pins you down with a smirk on his face. He then lowers his lips to yours and returns your kiss with a bigger one that sent you and him into a fit of giggles. 

“I love you so much, all three of you.” you smile up at your boyfriends’ face, your heart feeling totally at ease. 

“We love you too, angel. Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

Tagging: @campingwiththecharmings @in-between-the-cafes @mintpurplemnm @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @pakhiya @romanarose @swiggy-needs-mental-help @softieekayy @luc-k-y @lia275 @brekkers-desigirl @kybitchcrystal

[satoru-is-the-way]

The fact that I need more of Tenoch x Reader-

How about where there is a premiere where Tenoch is jealous to see Reader with OSCAR ISAAC?

A/n: OMG YESSSS YES YES YES YES AND YESSS FUCK YESSSSS COMING RIGHT UP ONG. Also this is more a bit of hints towards Hispnaic Latino reader x Tenoch/Oscar

TAGS: @shoxji @tian-monique @omgsuperstarg @angel-bi666 @sunfairyy @sunkissedebony97 @rkiversstuff @emma-frxst

{IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN FUTURE NAMOR/TENOCH FICS LET ME KNOW PLUS IF YOU DO OR DONT WANT TO BE TAGGED IN SMUT. MUST BE OVER 18+ FOR THOSE ANYWAYS.}

WARNINGS: NONE

Tenoch Huerta and you had been close since you began shooting Narcos: Mexico back in 2018. There was an instant connection that no one explained yet all could see. You two stayed in touch, meet up weekly, and spent a lot of time together. You landed the role of Namor's lover and queen of Talokan for Wakanda Forever. It was exciting to work alongside Tenoch once more. You had a major crush on the man yet kept it to yourself.

Oscar Isaac is another close friend, you both worked together in Star Wars: The Last Jedi where your character was his characters Poe Dameron's ex-lover yet second-best pilot the resistance had. You admit to the small crush developed for Oscar. By the end of the franchise in Rise Of Skywalker your characters have gotten back together in a long kissing scene.

So of course the fans had gone crazy for shipping you with Oscar and Tenoch. Wondering which an is going to be lucky enough to land you as their girlfriend.

Today was the premier of Black Panther Wakanda Forever. You were so excited about being in the Marvel franchise now. Including working with any great people. Right now you had arrives with Oscar Isaac. The press went nuts interviewing you both.

"Would your characters ever meet?" One of them shouted out.

"Love triangle even?!" Another added.

You and Oscar both laughed cheeks flushed.

"Oh, I hope so that would be a good romance." He winked before wrapping an arm around you. Tenoch had been with another tv station not too far away. How his blood boils noticing who you brought. Lupita and Winston both encouraged him to ask you out. Even as his date to the premiere. Yet Tenoch never had the confidence.

He matched his way over there just in time to hear the question and response by Oscar.

"I don't think that Namor would let that happen." Tenoch adds rather seriously. You smiled brightly and pulled Tenoch into a hug. "Hey you!"

"Hey. While admit the love triangle would be cool a king would never let his queen go."

Oscar rolled his eyes, he knew Tenoch liked you," You sure? Marc is pretty slick with the women. Much like myself." He adds just wanting to see Tenoch clench his jaw.

"Oh boys. Come on. Settle down. Let's hurry along and sign some autographs." You thanked the interviewers before leading the two boys, who currently are acting like man children, off to where the fans are waiting.

You watched the movie sitting between the two boys. Many emotions were shown during the screening especially how it felt seeing you and Tenoch as your characters together for the first time.

After the premiere you all headed for the restroom because it was a very long movie.

"You know I am surprised you and (Y/n) aren't together yet." Oscar comments washing his hands beside Tenoch.

"What do you mean? I thought she came with you as her date." He adds a jealous gaze in his brown eyes.

"No just as friends. But if you won't make a move then I will." Oscar turned the water off reaching for a towel.

"Don't waste your time, Oscar."

The men both walked out looking for you.

Winston and you were both laughing and making jokes. He specially was hammering you for the details of why Tenoch and Oscar were as the fans said 'Simping' over you. You explained your history with both men. And how wondering it was to have them so close together now. But in your heart, Tenoch was the one of you.

"So ready to go to the after party?" Oscar asked.

"But as my date." Tenoch glared over to Estrada's direction.

Winston smirked at (Y/n) who had to choose. "Well boys... I am flattered. Really am."

"Then go out with me." Tenoch whispered giving you his brown sugar eyes.

How could you say no?

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 5

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death

New character alert! Face claim, of course, is Oscar Isaac, specifically his look in Drive 🥰

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Dandelion

A million little wishes float across the sky

But it's a waste of breath and it's a waste of time I know

Cause just like him, you always leave me cryin' dandelion~Danelion, Kacey Musgraves

“So then Luke goes to Dangobah to find Yoda”

“Wait, whose Yoda? Is that another Jedee?”

“Jedi, but yes”

“Why?”

“Old Ben told him to”

“Isn’t he dead?”

“Yes, but he came to Luke at the start of this movie?”

“What? When?”

“When Luke was in the cave”

“Are we sure he wasn’t hallucinating?”

“I- No, no it was Ben. Jedi can come back in visions, like ghosts”

“Well, that’s awfully convenient”

“The force makes a lot of things convenient”

Joel was doing as he promised, explaining the Star Wars movies you had never had a chance to watch so you could understand the collection of comics he had found. You weren’t particularly interested in the comics, but they seemed to excite him, so you were going to read them, hoping to continue in conversation about it. This was the first time you two had talked about anything other than The Horrors for longer than a short back and forth, in fact, this was the only piece of personality or hints of before he had given you, the rest you had gleaned from Tommy. Joel was curled up with you on your mattress, having held you close all day yesterday and last night, and after what happened with Nick, after all Joel did for you, you happily accepted it. Joel had been soft before, absolutely, but not like this, and never this long… it bordered on Tommy territory. Slowly, you noticed little similarities, small phrases or mannerism that said yeah, these two are brothers, despite the drastic differences.

He played with your hair as he laid with you, tender in his touch, it was damn near domestic you almost forget where you are.

“Do you wanna go outside? Go for a walk?” Joel asks, his voice strangely soft in your ear.

You can’t help but smile at that. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Joel instructs you to stay put, and goes into his room and comes back with shoes he must’ve gotten and kept hidden from you; you’d get farther if you ran away wearing shoes. He knelt down beside you, lacing them up and tying them for you. He, of course held your hand tightly the entire time.

He asked if you wanted to see him. You knew what he meant.

Joel had kept him strung up, hanging from the oak tree, and although you had seen many horrific things in your short time on this god forsaken planet, the sight of a man you knew, hanged, skinned and swaying in the crisp spring Wyoming breeze… this was one of the worst. Somehow, however, you couldn’t find yourself feeling any guilt. Nick had done what he did knowing full well what Joel was capable of. The risk he took was calculated, but like you, it seems he couldn’t do math.

You felt Joel slide up behind you, unsurprisingly hard, no doubt recalling last night as his hands slide around your middle, his lips beginning to graze your neck and you couldn't help but remember how he had fucked you while telling you the graphic things he had done to your rapist.. “Do you still wanna cut off his dick?” He nudges your eyes to Joel’s switchblade still in Nick’s heart.

The idea was sexy while Joel was fucking you, but the reality of it was, frankly... Icky. “Can you?”

He kisses your cheek. “Happily.” Joel directs you, his long arms reach around, taking the blade out of his naked body and, with the aid of rigor mortis, he swiftly cut off the bastards dick. Stabbing the switchblade back into Nicks cold chest, Nick’s cock between the blade and his skin. “Feeling better, little one?” His arms are quickly back to you, the hand that held the switchblade playing above the line of your sweatpants. 

“Yes, Joel” You sighed, leaning your head back into him as his hand went between your legs. You did feel better actually. The whole situation you were in was fucked, but you did feel better…

He began finger fucking you, and although you realize he hadn’t washed his hands since skinning Nick, you weren't bothered. You were about to fuck about two feet away from a rotting corpse... “Let's go back to the house.”

“No” You whispered, and Joel looked at you curiously. “Here.” You get yourself situated against the tree trunk, and you swore you heard Joel chuckle; he had you whipped.

“Good girl” He adjusted you as needed, you brace against the tree Nick was hanging from, his body feet from you, and Joel pushed your ass out, pulling down your pants before slamming into you. “Good fucking girl” He pace was immediately hard and fast, and at this angle you swore…

“Joel.”

He didn’t stop. “Hm?“

You grab his hand, placing it over your stomach, where he could very very clearly feel himself entering you, his hard cock protruding out your stomach. “You feel that Joel?”

The hand on your hip was painfully tight, he growled and bite into your neck. “Fuck, fuck baby, you like me pounding you like this? Out in the open where anyone can see you?”

“Yes” You whine, having to  rest your face on the rough bark, sweat prickling at your skin even in the cold, his hands making you feel so, so warm. “I know you’ll protect me”

He moved one hand to the tree trunk, protecting your face from the scratches, his other moving to your clit, although right now you were certain he could make you cum just from just dick right now. “I’ll always protect you, little girl, always. Won’t let nothing bad happen to you ever again.” The irony was clearly lost on him, seeing as most of your suffering was at his hands but, fuck, if it wasn’t starting to get lost on you too… He was so tender when he wanted to be, the good was so, so good, and the sex… fucking hell. He pulled your ass out a little more and suddenly you were blinded, a brand new feeling making you cry out “Right there, pretty girl? Stay still, I’ll take care of you. Look at him” Joel turned your face to the decomposing body next to you. “Look at him, little one, I’ll always take care of you”

Why did this always make you feel so fucking warm? “I know, Joel, I know, J-Joel, fuck!” You rest your face fully on his large, veiny hand, protecting you from the tree, protecting you from Nick, protecting you from everything…

For a few weeks, things go better than they had been for years. Sex with Joel kept getting better and better, and he was opening up more. Not much from before, just little bits like telling you the plots of his favorite movies… you hadn’t been in his room, nor Tommy’s… Tommy had shifted a bit too. He was more and more affectionate with you, with the door closed of course… He held you in his arms, missing you brother, or when you called out to him in the middle of the night from nightmares and he pulled you onto his lap and cradled you when you cried… sometimes he went away from days on work as trusting more that Joel wouldn’t hurt you again and none of the men would dare. You were on dangerous waters, you knew, but sometimes you could only sleep when you smelled Tommy’s skin… but again, dangerous.

That’s why, when no one came into your room with breakfast, or lunch, or to spend time with you or fuck you… you were worried. Not as worried as you were when the door finally opened and a new face appeared with food.

You scramble to stand up, images of Nick and early days of Joel flashing in your head, and you open your mouth to scream for Tommy, but he cuts you off.

“Relax, sweetheart, Nick’s body is still rotting out there, I’m not tryna match him.” He spoke with a thick accent you’d heard before; your brother, Zach, had said it was from somewhere east, one of the big cities, but wasn’t sure where. 

“What do you want?” You ask, still shaking.

He set down the food. “Tommy’s paying me to feed you today”

You narrow your eyes at the sandwich. “You’re not doing very well, missed a meal.”

He shrugged with a small, smug smile. “Didn’t pay me enough for that.” He watched you still eying the food suspiciously “You wanna talk to him?”

“Where is he? Where’s Joel…” You can’t imagine they would let a random man in your room if one was able to do this…

“Food poisoning, we think.” 

You look at the sandwich again. “I’m not eating that”

He laughed, obnoxiously loud. “Smart girl. Come on, you can make yourself something” He nudged out the door.

You couldn’t help perk up at that. You get to leave? You get to make your own food? You weren’t sure who the man was, but you were happy to take the little bit of independence. You wouldn’t do anything that would make Joel mad, just put together a sandwich or heat up some soup! How strange your life had become that these were the little pleasures. 

The man watched you intently as you managed to make some soup. He was short; taller than you still, but short none the less, a few inches under Tommy. His hair was buzzed as was his beard, dark hair to match dark skin, and large eyes that watched you like a bug.

It was fun, cooking again… You had rather enjoyed when you still were living with your dad, your mom taught you well, you were a good cook… you wondered if Joel might let you cook more… you save soup for them when they were feeling better, maybe they’d like it enough you could continue? You toast some bead on a frying pan, demand (well, ask, but with a little force) to see Joel.

When you tentatively peaked through the cracked door and Joel saw you, his eyes went wide and you saw he was about to get up, no doubt thinking you got loose, so you opened the door to reveal the strange new man you hadn’t seen around the house before. “It’s okay, he’s with me. I wanted to check on you… can I come in?” Joel lays back down, tentatively, obviously not thrilled about being seen in a vulnerable position. He was clearly sick, his tanned skin looking pale, his eyes bleary and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him… even as you placed your hand on your hip, feeling the JM etched into your skin… a reminder of what he could do… You kneel down before him with the toast. “Can you try and eat some of this for me?”

He shakes his head. “I feel like shit”

Opting to sit by him, you gently play with his hair. He looked so young like this… “I know, sweetie… but you gotta try and eat… keep up your strength. Toast won’t be so bad on your stomach…” You try to coax, and look up to see the man watching you, eying you… was he confused, wondering how the little kidnapped girl was playing nurse to her capture… but he wouldn’t understand. You weren’t sure you could explain it yourself… but this was the position you were in, and you were doing what you could…

“What are you doing?” He grumbles, taking a small bite.

“I’m helping you”

“Why”

Great question. “Because you help me”

“I hurt you” another bite.

You were taken aback by that, absolutely… he was right, he did… “But you can also be so, so good to me.”

He wouldn’t look at you. “I don’t deserve you” 

You sigh, just a little bit… deserve wouldn’t be the word… but you wouldn’t say he didn’t deserve you… he was good to you, wasn’t he? He fed you, brought you nice things, little treats, he treated you good in bed… maybe he deserved you? He did everything right… how you got here didn’t really matter, and he was right, months ago, this was better than the strange men that mouth raped you and beat you senseless… he took you away from all that, he made a better life for you… in a way, he saved you.

“You do deserve me, Joel.” You kiss his forehead, hair stuck to it with sweat from the food poisoning. “I’m gonna check on Tommy, then I’ll be back to nurse you back to health, okay?”

Joel smiled at that. “Okay, little one”

A groggy Tommy looked at you and the man, then flopped his head back down on his pillow. “I see you met Lorenzo”

So that was his name. “Yeah, when he finally decided to bring me food.”

Tommy groans. “I told you to feed her, not bring her here”

Getting on the bed, you brush Tommy’s long hair away from his face. “It’s fine, I saw Joel, he’s okay with it as long as he watches me.”

Tommy couldn’t even open his eyes. “I feel awful, honey. Fucking awful. Never eating chicken again”

You can’t help but laugh a bit as he groaned on about how much he ‘odia pollo’ as you coax him into eating a bit of toast.

You spend the day helping the Millers feel better, whipping their faces with a cool clothes, feeding them bites they could eat, cleaning up the bowls they puked in, all while Lorenzo trailed around you, no doubt in charge of making sure you didn’t run away… you couldn’t help but admit you like this, you liked taking care of them, even if you couldn’t be as affectionate with Tommy as you wanted to. The other men, it seems, were all out sick, leaving just you and Lorenzo, and of course, like everything, it was a deliberate move… There were no coincidences.

Of all the things you expected to see as you rounded the corner back to the kitchen after having left Tommy’s side, your brother was not one of them.

“Zach.” He was alive, Joel didn’t kill him… but how had Tommy not known- oh. Tommy knew. He had to have, as did Joel. They would have begun collecting from your dad again, they had no know...

He rushed over to you, taking you in his loving arms that held you so many times before, whispering your name. “Thank god you’re okay”

You blink, brain still trying to catch up. “Wha- what are you doing here?”

Zach begins to pull you away, towards the door. “I’m rescuing you, we’re leaving”

Leaving? To go where? No doubt he had a plan, but he had no idea, no idea what happened, what things were like now, how bad they had been but it had gotten so, so much better. You stop. “Zach wait!” You whisper harshly, and he turns around at you, confused.

“I have somewhere to go, I got a plan, it’s okay, everything will be fine, I promise” 

You believed he believed it… but there were 1000 things in your head right now. First, if you leave and Joel finds you… he might actually kill you, but the things he would do to you if he didn’t were much worse. Secondly, “He’ll kill you, Zach.”

“He won’t catch-”

“He won’t let me go! He won’t drop it! He will hunt me down as long as it takes and skin you alive like the last man!” 

You could see the fear in his eyes as he hushed you, grabbing your arm. “Shut up, or he’ll kill us both! Just, god, just trust me. No one will notice until morning, we’ll be hours ahead.”

You stayed firmly in place… there was the third reason you wanted to stay… the fact you’d grown comfortable here, the fact you were, despite your better judgment, falling in love with both of the men here and- wait, where was Lorenzo? “I can’t, Zach. You don’t know what he’s capable of”

Rolling his eyes like only a brother would, he tugged you. “Of course I-”

You pull down your pants just enough on the side, revealing the brand. “He did this the last time I tried to leave, fucked me on the table in front of all the other men, then left me there for them to all rape!” You didn’t tell him that Tommy had saved you, that Tommy had tucked you in and how tenderly Joel had treated you the next day, how both had bandaged you up, cared for you, even though you had been so bad. “It’s calmed down, he doesn’t hurt me, I have more freedom… I don’t want to throw this away”

Zach was panged, desperate, eyes watering as he tried to take you away from what you knew he thought of as your hell, but was truly where you had felt most at home since your mothers death. “I won’t let him hurt you again, I’ll protect you.”

“Like you protected me against dad?” It came out fast than you’d expected, no chance to block it… it wasn’t fair, you couldn’t and didn’t blame Zach for that but it was true. Joel saved you, cared for you, Joel killed men that hurt you… Joel wasn’t who you needed to be protected from, Joel was the one who protected you. You yank your hand away from your crying brother. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t blame you… but I’m staying”

He opened his mouth to argue, but all that came out was a desperate 'please'. You shake your head. You belonged with the Millers now. “You change your mind, you find a way to escape, I’ll be at the ranch, and I swear to god I will keep you safe this time.”

Now you were crying too as you went to hug him. “Thank you, Zach” Alone in the kitchen, you back up against the fridge, sink down, and cry, cry, cry… keep crying until Lorenzo appeared in the doorway

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

 Of course. Of course you didn’t avoid the shitshow. “Okay so you saw that. You gonna tell Joel, rank up, get whatever it is you want.” You sniffle as he leans against the doorway, crossing his arms. 

“No, I already got my payment for this shitshow“ You look up at him, wet and puffy eyes telling him to go on. “He paid me to give everyone food poisoning so you guys could leave, and you fucking wasted it. No skin off my back, but Jesus. You know, pre-outbreak, we had a word for girls like you, who stayed with men who beat them”

“Joel doesn’t-”

“You wanna know what that word is?”

You sigh. “Wha-”

“Dumb bitches”

Lorenzo was pissing you the fuck off, but there was something else that was pushing your repressed anger up… You stand, shoving Lorenzo aside and storm down the hall to Tommy’s room, bursting in.

He smiled lazily up at you as you close the door. “Hey honey, the tea helped-”

“You fucking knew” Pointing dramatically at his sick figure on the bed, you watch the confusion on his face. “What? What did I know?”

“That my brother is alive, asshole!”

As he slowly realizes whats happening, he forces himself to sit up, despite the dizziness and nausea, his hand open palmed and out towards you. “Okay, just relax, tell me what happ-”

You were angrier that perhaps you had a right to be, feeling betrayed and hurt by the man you had trusted, however foolishly. “Don’t use your ‘Calm down Joel’ voice on me! You knew my brother was alive and you didn’t tell me!”

He almost argues. He almost says no, no I didn’t know, this is news to me too… but you’ve already figured it out. “If you knew he was alive, you’d try to leave again, and you’d get caught, and God knows what he’ll do to you if you run away” his eyes were pleading with you to understand, but he was not asking for forgiveness… you knew he’d do it again.

You step closer. “How many times did you hold me while I cried, missing him, wanting him-”

“That’s just it!” He stands now, towering over you, but you know him better than to think it’s a threat, so you don’t back away and simply look up at him, glaring. “You wanted to be with him, and I couldn’t let that happen”

“So you kept me away from my family, because you’d miss me?”

“No it’s because you’d be dead!”

You shake your head, not quite believing his motivations… “I don’t think so. I think you want to stay because you just want me here so you can play knight in shining armor”

Wide-eyed and hurt, he looks down at you. “No, that’s not it-”

In your anger, you shove him; it doesn’t go very far considering his sturdy stance and strong shoulders, but the action caused what you wanted it to. It hurt his feelings. “Fuck you, Tommy”

Tommy put his hands on your shoulders, not backing down despite the wave of nausea threatening him. “Honey, I swear to you, I’m just trying to help, all I wanted to do this whole time was help you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you couldn’t pull away from his touch yet; you never could. “Fuck. You!”

Frustration boiled over before the vomit did. “What is the big deal! Joel knew too!” At that, he gently pushed you back as he dropped to his knees, violently throwing up in his trash can, his whole body wracked into heaves. He did the hard part for you; you weren't sure if you were strong enough to disengage his touch.

You watch him, wanting so badly to kneel by his side, to rub his back and keep his hair out of the puke as you had done all day today… but you couldn’t. You need to have something, something, for your anger to hold onto, even if it was Tommy, even if it was just for a night. “You are the one I was supposed to trust!” You scream, not caring who heard you. “I was supposed to be able to believe in you, but you held me as I screamed, and cried and you didn’t tell me! Fuck! You!” Your face was soaked as you screamed, screamed at Tommy for every rape, every violation, every beating and branding that he had only every tried to save you from, and took it out on him for one small thing that he actually did. Because he was Tommy, because he was supposed to be different. 

And because he was Tommy, he let you. 

You slammed the door when you left. 

Lorenzo was in the hall, watching you with crossed arms as you left Tommy for Joel’s room, muttering again about you being a dumb bitch, but you don't care.

Joel’s room was dark; he didn’t open his eyes, and for a moment you thought he was asleep and began to retreat away when he spoke. 

“Come on in, little one”

You slink through the door, closing it behind you. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

He opened his eyes at that. Today was the first day you had even seen his room, did he even want you in it? You watched him consider, before opening up his blanket for you. With a smile, you crawl in, and he tightly wraps you up in the blanket and his arms where you were growing more and more comfortable.

“Everything okay? I heard yell’n. Couldn’t tell if I was dream’n or not.” He asked, sleepily, nestling his face into your neck.

You considered the options… best to not lie completely. Safe and secure in Joel, despite the chaos of today, you began to relax in him. “Yeah, Tommy just pissed me off, that's all” 

You could feel Joel smile against your skin.

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Not nearly as high drama as the last few by next week we're back!!!

I've seen a few of you saying you have theories and i want you to know I WANNA HERE ALL YOU'RE THEORIES!!!! Drop them in my ask box so i can share them with the class and everyone csn share their thoughts!

Also as I stated above, I GOT A PLAYLIST GOING! if you have a song you think matches, comment or send in an ask and ill add it if i think t fits!

Also, i've moved to 10 chapters + the alt ending for the series! I'd love to here all thoughts and theories you have <3

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[tommymllrr]

coffee shop cowboy [ch. 1]

agent whiskey x barista!reader (coffee shop!au)

summary: if you were being honest, you’d had an absolute garbage day. up until the moment he strode through the front door of the cute little café that you worked at in those stupid cowboy boots.

rating: Explicit, 18+ (MINORS DNI)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: none for this chapter besides some swearing

notes: as someone who works in a coffee shop, i wanted to make a fic that catered specifically for me okay. reader is afab, but no pronouns or gendered terms are used so it can be read as gender-neutral. also i'm not super active here so find me on twitter if you're interested in seeing me talk about my upcoming fanfics and talk about pedro pascal and oscar isaac. :-)

chapter 2 on tumblr // read fic on ao3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

If you were being honest, you’d had an absolute garbage day up until the moment he strode through the front door of your job in those stupid cowboy boots.

Well, in reality, you weren’t even supposed to be at the café. It was Monday, which meant you should have had the day off to relax after working long shifts all weekend. But no. You had decided to do your coworker, Mara, a favor by picking up her shift. All of a sudden, she was frantically texting you at 11:36pm that she had a “dentist appointment” she had forgotten about when you knew deep down in your bones that she was out late with her friends getting plastered downtown. So, being the people-pleaser you were (and needing the money), you dragged your ass out of bed and drove to work while the sun was still waiting for the moon to run its course through the sky to sling coffee and overpriced lattes to customers for eight hours. You knew Mondays were slow, so you hoped you had an easy day ahead of you as you unlocked the front doors for the day.

Nope. Everything went downhill about an hour into your day. Your coworker for the day showed up for their shift and took over barista duties, meaning you were to be the friendly face customers saw when they came in and placed their order. Which normally would have been fine. But you guessed everyone had woken up with a stick in their ass that particular morning because almost everyone was either rude, condescending, or obnoxious. You could count on two hands the number of people that had come up to you to complain that their drink tasted burnt or that it was too sweet or too bitter and demanded a remake, a refund, or both. You were sick of it and on the verge of having a breakdown.

And then he came in.

He stood in the middle of the café for a brief moment of time, looking around at the various folks scattered among the dining room working on their laptops or chatting among themselves while enjoying their drink of choice. He may have still been wearing the pair of aviator sunglasses he’d walked in wearing so you couldn’t be certain, but, by the way he was facing, you knew that his eyes had settled on looking at you. The man sauntered his way up to your counter and oh god he was gorgeous. 

Once in front of you and the cash register, he slid the aviators off of his face and perched them along the rim of the black cowboy hat he was currently wearing. He looked up at the menu for a moment, squinting his dark brown eyes as he tried to read the small lettering on the boards that hung above your head. While distracted, you took the opportunity to take him all in. He was wearing a black leather jacket with a plain white T-shirt underneath and blue jeans and had an impressive mustache on his upper lip. His chin was dappled with a beard that was patchy in a couple of places and graying a little. But the thing that caught your eye the most was his belt buckle. It was a small silver flask with the logo for Statesman Whiskey on it and you wondered if it was a gift of some kind or if he had actual connections to the distillery. (You, actually, currently had a bottle of said whiskey among your very poor selection of alcohol at home - it had been an expensive gift from a close friend so you usually saved it for special occasions and days when you had a really bad shift at work.)

Finally, he spoke up, looking down at you with a frown.

“Do y’all just serve plain coffee? None of this fancy latte shit?” he asked, his hand waving vaguely to the menu board. God, he even had a Southern accent. Being in upstate New York, you didn’t hear Southern accents often if at all. But man. You would definitely let this man read you the most boring piece of literature, his words dripping like honey off of his lips as he drawls on and on.

“Uh, yeah, I, um, just started a fresh pot a few minutes ago. It’s our featured roast, um, a dark roast with notes of chocolate and caramel and citrus,” you rambled. And he was just staring at you with his rich, brown eyes and made you feel so incredibly small. “If you, uh, like dark roast coffees, you’ll like it. It’s good. We also have a medium roast available. Or, um, we also have cold brew and straight espresso shots that we can do hot or over ice. You, um, don’t have to order a latte.” You really wished the earth would open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Would be a lot better than having to deal with embarrassing yourself in front of the really hot guy in front of you because he most likely did not care a single bit about what you just said.

The cowboy blinked at you a few times, not saying a single word, and it made a wave of anxiety crash over you. And then he chuckled and flashed you a smile. “Well now,” he drawled. “Sure do have a lotta options. I’ll try a large cup of that dark roast you mentioned. No room for cream. I’ll take it black.”

“Um, sure. Yeah. What, uh, name should I put the order under?” you asked. If you were being honest, you technically didn’t need his name for the order. You were the one that poured the coffee - the fifteen-gallon containers you brewed coffee into were literally less than five feet behind you - and the tickets for them didn’t even show up on the screen over at the barista station. It was only because your curiosity was getting to you. Even if you never saw him again after today, you had to know his name (especially since you had a feeling that you’d be thinking about him for at least a few days).

“Just… put it under Whiskey,” he replied with a smirk. 

Whiskey, you thought. Your eyes flashed back down to his belt buckle. There’s no way that’s his real name. And yet, it fits him.

You poured the dark roast from the brewing container behind you into a large to-go cup with a coffee sleeve over it. Your fingers brushed along his when you handed him the cup and it took all your strength to not drop the drink. You retracted your hand, shoved it deep into the pocket of the hoodie you were wearing over your apron. Whiskey nodded his head to you slightly as a sign of thanks and took a sip from his drink. 

“Mmm,” he sighed after he was done drinking. You exhaled the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “That’s one damn good cup of coffee. I think I found my new fix.” He winked at you, immediately feeling yourself blush like an idiot.

“G-Glad you liked it,” you managed to sputter out. “Um, our pastries are also really good. If you, um, like that kind of thing. I eat them all the time.” You shifted your gaze to the pile of scones, muffins, croissants, and other baked goodies that had been sitting in the space next to the register since you set them out before you’d opened. Whiskey’s eyes roved over the selection that was left before pointing at the last butter croissant you had left for the day.

“I’ll take that last croissant with me too,” he said finally. “Looks too good to pass up.” You nodded and used a sheet of wax paper to slip it into a pastry bag with the café’s logo on it. The pastry and coffee came out to just over six dollars and when you told Whiskey, he sat down his coffee to fish his wallet out of the back pocket of his blue jeans. He pulled out a worn-looking leather wallet that was covered in scuff marks and a dark-colored stain. When Whiskey opened it and started rifling through the cash he had on him, you immediately saw that he had a few hundred dollar bills in there. You tried not to let your eyes pop out of your head at the sight. Where the fuck did he get that kind of money? While your mind raced, Whiskey handed you a twenty dollar bill with a grin and told you, “Keep the change.”

The thoughts in your brain came to a screeching halt. You blinked at him, mouth open just slightly in shock.

“Wh- Huh?”

Real fuckin’ eloquent there, dumbass.

Whiskey just chuckled and repeated, “Keep the change.” He leaned into you a little, invading your personal bubble, but it only made you blush even harder. “As thanks for helpin’ me out and bein’ so informative.” Whiskey’s eyes cut over to look at your coworker who was currently making someone’s drink and had her back turned to you. You immediately cashed out his order and hastily shoved the remaining bills and coins into the front pocket of your apron.

“Um, Jesus Christ, thanks, man,” you blurted out. “I, um, really appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome, darlin’,” he replied and you felt butterflies burst through your stomach. This man was trying to kill you. He’d been sent specifically to murder you where you stood. “Well, I gotta head out. Have a good day now.” And with that, the cowboy who had just tipped you more than anyone had tipped you in the seven months you’d been working at the coffee shop exited the building. 

You were a little embarrassed to say how smitten you were with him. 

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

About a month and a half had passed since Whiskey made his appearance at the little coffee shop you worked at and, since then, he’d been at least twice, sometimes even three times, a week ever since. You usually worked the register during your shifts, very rarely stepping away to work barista duties, so you were the one to always help him when he came in. (A bonus to this was the fact that Whiskey liked to slide you a couple extra dollars to keep for yourself in addition to the ones he put into the communal tip jar.)

You hadn’t meant to develop a crush on him. You had told yourself that, after your last relationship ended poorly, you weren’t looking for another one any time soon. But when Whiskey was so fucking handsome and he was always so charming and quick-witted and called you things like “darling” and “sugar”, his usual terms of endearment toward you that got under your skin in the best way possible, you couldn’t help but fall for him.

After the first few times that Whiskey had come in, when he’d reached the status of being a regular, you’d convinced him to branch out to try new drinks that weren't the large cup of dark roast coffee that he’d been ordering. One day, he’d come in looking like he hadn’t slept in days and you offered him just straight espresso shots poured into a cup. 

“That sounds like exactly what I need right now, darlin’,” he grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Gimme as many as you’ll allow in a large cup over some ice, if you would. Already feelin’ like death warmed over, can’t stand the idea of somethin’ hot right now.” Not wanting to disappoint Whiskey, you’d ended up filling the cup with roughly six shots, which you were sure should be illegal somehow, and handing it over to him. But he’d slid you a twenty dollar bill for his seven dollar drink and told you to keep the change, like he always did when you served him. The very generous tip was nice, but you were still a tad bit concerned that his heart would explode from the amount of caffeine you’d served. Once the drink was safely in Whiskey’s hands, he’d taken a big gulp out of his straw, draining about a quarter of the cup in one sip. A wide grin had spread across his face when he’d stopped.

“Thanks, sugar. Already feel more like a human again,” he had drawled in that accent you couldn’t get enough of. You laughed and told him you felt the same way after having your coffee for the day too, especially during your shifts when you had to be there before sunrise to open the café. You two had chatted for another minute before he said he had some business to attend to and had to leave and you’d told him to have a good day with a genuine grin on your face.

Your biggest accomplishment, however, came when you had managed to talk him into trying one of the lattes on your menu and you had even been the one to make it for him. He’d told you early on that he didn’t like milk and had grimaced over the idea of ruining the bold, bitter flavor of coffee or espresso. You swore up and down that lattes were really good and promised to make something you were sure he’d enjoy. Whiskey had squinted his eyes at you, a skeptical look on his face, but he eventually relented and told you, “Alright, darlin’. If I hate it, you can have the rest. Free drink on me.” You’d quickly shooed your coworker Noah out of the way and told him to take over the register so you could make this drink.

Eventually, you’d settled on making him a latte with an extra espresso shot - a little on the bitter side and highly caffeinated, just how Whiskey liked it - and added in a couple pumps of your café’s cinnamon and vanilla syrups. You finished it up and handed it to Whiskey, who had been watching you make his drink behind the bar. He put the cup up to his lips and took a sip. And then immediately took another sip. And another. You were sure your grin was so wide, it was going to hurt your face.

“Alright. Maybe you’ve got something there,” he huffed out and you did a little victory dance internally. If you could make Whiskey like something out of his comfort zone, maybe you weren’t as shit at making drinks as your anxious brain had told yourself time and time again.

It was a couple days later right as you were just about to clock out for your thirty minute break when Whiskey walked up to the counter. Your apron was already off and you had a chocolate croissant set aside and ready to be devoured while you scrolled Twitter, but, for Whiskey, you’d make an exception.

“Hey, sugar, can I get my usual large dark roast today?” he asked, already reaching for his wallet. You turned around and poured the coffee into a to-go cup. Sitting it down on the counter in front of Whiskey, he handed you a twenty.

“Not another latte?” you fired back, teasing, as you counted out his change. He rolled his eyes at you, but he was smiling. “Also, I was just about to go on break and leave you to my coworkers, but you’re my favorite so I had to make sure I got your order before I clocked out.”

Whiskey’s face changed, his brows rising toward his hairline, taken aback by your admission. A shit-eating grin replaced the shocked expression a split second later.

“Oh, I’m your favorite now, am I?” He leaned on the counter, got slightly into your personal space like he did sometimes, and it made your face flush even more than it already was.

Shit. You honestly hadn’t meant to say that out loud, well, it was what you thought if you were being honest, but you had meant to keep that fact a secret. Let alone say that in front of Whiskey himself.

“I-I mean… well, I guess you are,” you mumbled once you found your voice.

“Well, would it be too bold of me to ask my favorite barista if they’d like to accompany me while on their break?” Whiskey inquired, looking at you from over the tops of his thin-rimmed glasses. The corner of his pink lips was upturned in a playful smirk.

If your face wasn’t on fire already, it sure was now. You nodded dumbly and grabbed the iced coffee you’d made for yourself earlier and the chocolate croissant, following Whiskey to a table near the window that looked out onto the busy city outside.

Your eyes darted back over to the bar once seated and you saw Aubrey give you a grin and a thumbs-up. It was the one day a week you guys work together and this happens. God, you were going to get asked a hundred questions and teased as soon as you come back from your break and maybe for the rest of your time as friends.

You munched on your croissant and Whiskey sipped his coffee as conversation flowed easily between you two. Teases and playful remarks and jabs at each other were weaved carefully through the entire interaction, just like always between you two. You can’t pinpoint exactly when Whiskey had opened up enough to you that he added the occasional flirt into his talks with you, but he had one day and those comments had made a little home in your brain to live there rent-free. You were in too deep when you found yourself returning fire with your own attempts to be smooth and playful. Granted, most of the time, Whiskey just smirked or gave you a smug smile or even a chuckle or two, but you couldn’t help it.

Whether or not Whiskey actually had feelings for you was a mystery, but you were too anxious to even think about telling him. Plus you didn’t want to ruin literally the only reason you had started looking forward to coming into work.

A lull in conversation had been reached, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you, when Whiskey suddenly piped up. “You know, I honestly don’t really care for coffee shops that much,” the older man admitted as he took a sip of his coffee. Your attention was drawn away from Aubrey - who had started making kissy-faces at you from behind the bar a couple minutes ago - and back to the very handsome cowboy that you had a crush on across the table. “Prefer to brew my own shit at my place. But, I was in the area for work and was still a tad hungover from the night ‘fore when I stumbled upon this li’l ol’ place. And I came to find out that there’s some damn good coffee here.” Whiskey’s eyes roamed over the café with the corners of his mouth upturned in a tiny smile.

“Thanks. I guess. I mean, the pay is shit and we get a lot of assholes sometimes, but the free coffee and pastries are good,” you said, taking a bite out of your croissant. Something he said struck you, though. You chewed and swallowed before continuing, “You know, in the couple of months that I’ve known you, you’ve never said anything about what you actually do for work.”

That smile slid off of Whiskey’s face in an instant. “Don’t really like to talk about it. Let’s just say I’m retired an’ leave it at that,” he replied in a low voice. His eyes were staring down at the cup clasped in his hands and you noticed his fingers were twitching ever so slightly. You might have been able to cut the sudden tension with a knife. Right as an apology was about to tumble out of your lips, feeling suddenly very awkward on prying into someone you only casually know’s personal life, Whiskey looked at you again with his usual smirk. “You know, I did my fair share of bartendin’ when I was younger, growin’ up in Texas. Also worked security. Rough-housed with quite a few drunk assholes in my day.”

You blinked a couple of times. The rate at which the mood changed yet again had given you some serious whiplash. You ignored the anxious voice yelling at you in your head and went on. “O-Oh… yeah?” you replied lamely as you stuffed another bite of croissant into your mouth.

Whiskey nodded. “Was a pretty sweet gig,” he continued. “Don’t think I’d ever go back, though. If I liked ya, I liked ya, and if I didn’t, I didn’t. Didn’t necessarily go well with havin’ a buncha customers. But I will say… watchin’ you reminds me of those days sometimes. You’re a damn hard worker and good at whatcha do.” 

His compliment had a warm feeling spread through your whole body like wildfire. Your heartbeat went a little faster, sweat gathered on your palms, your face flushed. God, he had you so intoxicated, so under his spell, you felt like you were going to go mad as a result. You managed to squeak out a “thank you”, averting your eyes downward, attempting to hide your face from him.

(You were so engrossed by small splinters in the wood grain of the table that you missed the way that he smiled at you fondly, clearly able to see that he’d flustered you by how pink your cheeks had turned.)

Your phone lit up with yet another spam email notification and you realized when you saw the time that you should have clocked back in already. You quickly shoved the last two bites of croissant into your mouth and hopped up, chewing hurriedly. Whiskey’s eyes went wide at your sudden movements, watching you intently. Swallowing the sweet pastry, you sputtered out, “I have to go back to work now, have a good day, Whiskey. See you later this week?”

Whiskey nodded and moved to stand up from his chair, pulling on the leather jacket he had slung over the back of his seat. You tied your apron back on and started scurrying back behind the bar to finish the last three hours of your shift.

“Have a good rest of your shift, sugar,” he called to you as he exited the café. A wide, goofy smile was on your lips as you watched him head towards the parking lot.

Yeah, you’d never get tired of him.

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Besides Werewolf by Night and the characters presented in the show, who else would you be interested in seeing MK system meet up with? Any other MCU characters?

Boy Howdy.

So…. Of course I want him to meet up with Jack Russel. They could be BFF.

Who do I want the MK system to meet up with otherwise?

If we're talking already established MCU characters:

Dare Devil - They have such a complicated relationship. And there's so much room for shenanigans and silly situations. Angsty Catholic Boy meets Angsty Jewish boy is always an A+++ in my book.

Not to mention Highly Observant Steven catching on right away that the blind man has more going on than it seems.

FRANK CASTLE - Oh man. Jon Bernthal and Oscar Isaac on the same screen? I don't think I'd survive. Marc and Frank talking war crimes shop? Family trauma? Vengeance???

Not to mention the whole issue with Khonshu in the comics being jealous of Frank and trying to get Marc to be more like Frank.

Circling around to bigger MCU lines….

See, I want Mk to interact with Spider-Man, but not Tom Holland Spider-Man.

MK and Spider-Man have always had a nice relationship, but it's an older Spider-Man, not a little wide eyed naive kid Spider-Man. He needs to be snappy and witty and on his game Spider-Man. Like almost Andrew Garfield Spider-Man but not quite. He has to fill in the silence from the non-communicative Moon Knight side of things.

DeadPool. Almost. That's a rough one because Moon Knight at full angry vengeance mode plays so well with Deadpool. But that's more comics MK and not quiet MCU MK if that makes sense? (Though Steven might hold up with his snark).

The Hulk has potential. But I also don't see any of them getting along with Bruce well enough.

Bro-Thor might be a wholesome interaction. I could see emotional kind Thor making friends with Steven easily. Not to mention Steven could geek out about mythology to him.

I don't think Ironman would work well. Honestly, Moon Knight and Ironman have never gone well together in my books.

Captain America in THEORY has always been a nice one for quick interactions. (Steven Grant may or maynot be a fictive of Steven Grant Rogers, but that's a differnet story from the comics), but Captain America and Marc have never gotten along at all.

It's hard to imagine Marc (marc in particular) mingling with the other MCU characters because they have all been done as quick witted chatty guys with egos and Marc in MCU is so socially awkward.

Put him and Bucky in a room and you just got two silent broody men standing on opposite sides of the room with Bucky staring intently and Marc not picking up social cues and doing his best to maintain eye contact till one of them breaks. You would need Steven or another outside force to bridge the gap and try to connect, but then you have Marc being overly protective of Steven and fighting his overall impulse to not let anyone know about his mental health issues and forcing front to keep Steven out of it.

But this takes me back around to characters that are already soft, quiet, friendly, and who also suffer from misunderstandings and issues: Jack Russel. The ultimate friend and buddy to MK system. With his sweet smile and desire to please and make people happy. He'd be soft with Steven, chatty for Marc (to cover so Marc doesn't have to talk), and a great Spanish drinking pal with Jake.

And Ted. I think Ted would love Steven.

Elsa Bloodstone? She's already met one man with a dual side and complicated story. She'd take one look at Marc and heavily sigh and accept that she seems to just attract problems.

NOW: Who do I want to see them interact with that are NOT already in the MCU?

Task Master. Hear me out - He's a villain that can make the rounds in ALL MCU shows/movies. He has a photographic memory and can instantly learn and mimic any fighting style. And in the comics, he loathes the day that he learned Moon Knight's style and wishes he could forget it.

The Sentry. If they could introduce the Sentry and get him RIGHT I'd be so happy. He is the direct opposite of Moon Knight on so many levels.

I'm trying not to ramble here because I could go on and on about why I think some characters would and would not team up well with MCU MK....

But let me pose this to you, which was not part of your original question:

WHAT ABOUT LAYLA?

Can you imagine protective Layla with MK meeting up with the MCU cast? I want to see her character evolve and I imagine she's latched onto Steven and taken up Marc's position of "This delightful piece of marshmallow fluff must be protected at all cost".

I think if anyone tried to give them trouble or pointed out the issue of Marc and Steven switching in front of them she'd be in their face so fast.

"What's that? You can't trust him because he's too unpredictable? How about I unpredictable your face?" That girl is a spit fire.

But I think she and Elsa would get along well.

Anyways, I have a wish list but I also have anxieties depending on the writer. Historically Moon Knight has not done well in groups and tends to get labeled "that schitzo lunatic" that just stands in the background a lot. Which would be a shame to do to Oscar Isaac and doubtful that they would be able to do to him. But so many MCU characters have been written With intense egos...

Who do you want to see them interact with? Anyone I forgot? Anyone that you think would actually be able to make friends with them?

[writefightandflightclub]

I have a kind of scary doctors appointment today (i'm okay, i just dont really know whats going on, therefore scary) and i was hoping you could do a hc or something about one of the oscar isaac boys (maybe poe) comforting you before the appointment/going with you/being all sweet and caring after?

Poe is worried about you when he hears you need to visit the MedBay, of course. He loves you very much, and he absolutely hates seeing you fret.

But, if there’s one thing Poe is known for (besides his good looks and his wicked flying skills), it’s his ability to remain buoyant with hope. To see the possibility for light even in the darkest situations.

Poe truly believes things can and do still turn out for the best.

He believes in a lot of things. He believes in his colleagues in the Resistance. Those who conscientiously trained to serve in the MedBay, and who use their extensive knowledge to seemingly do the impossible day after day.

He believes in you, and your ability to face this scary time head-on - just like he’s seen you face down the enemy and pilot your ship right through danger time and time again, in so many ways. Even when it’s hard.

Even when your courage falters, Poe knows the strength of you, and he does everything he can to make sure you don’t forget it either.

Still, Poe knows that today is not easy for you. That you have a lot of questions. That as brave as you are, that today, you need a little extra morale support. After all, who doesn’t, from time to time?

So, Poe clears his whole schedule for the day.

He is there for you every moment, with soft touches and kisses and hugs and words, liberally and topically applied.

He is there to make you hot drinks and to bring you snacks and treats.

But most of all, he is there to distract you. To take your mind off things for a little while, so that your worry doesn’t begin to spiral you off in dark, imagined directions.

Poe’s distractions are… creative, to say the least.

He gets Beebs to do a little dance for you.

He then does a little dance himself.

He argues with you about the best way to modify a thruster.

He undoes a few extra buttons on his shirt (he’s trying here!).

He kisses your neck in that specific way you like. The one that makes all other thoughts melt away from your brain for a while.

He takes a walk with you to the edge of base, the place fringed with trees and blooming purple flowers.

He points out every bird and interesting sight and smell.

He reads to you, holding you close.

Eventually though, you begin to tire of his distractions.

He sits in the waiting room alongside you, gripping your hand in-between both of his, clinging to you like he’ll never let go… and he’s still blathering on about some holo he really wants to watch with you. Trying so very hard to distract you, like he has all day.

And… you finally snap.

“Poe! Just stop, will you? Please.”

He instantly clamps his mouth shut.

Your voice cracks. “I don’t want you to distract me. It’s not going to change anything!”

Poe’s eyes soften to liquid and he sighs softly, in concession. He comes to cup your face in his palm with a slow blink, gently smoothing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I was doing what I needed. Honestly? I… don’t want to think about this. At all. I love you, and it’s a little scary.”

Your eyes brim with tears as you absorb the strength of feeling in his voice. The emotion behind it.

Poe’s approach had come from the right place, but you understand now. Understand that what you really needed wasn’t to ignore your feelings or push them down, but to sit with them. To accept them in the moment as valid. To acknowledge them as natural.

“It is scary,” you admit.

Poe’s features stretch into a watery smile. “What can I do?” Poe breathes softly, totally ready now to listen.

“Just be here, Poe. Just be here with me.”

He is. He is always here for you. That he can do, and for the first time all day, Poe truly looks relaxed when he realises he can be just what you need after all. “You got it,” he says with conviction, and he enfolds you in his arms, drawing you in to his warm chest. You feel the weight of his head settle against yours. The gentle thudding of his heart against the shell of your ear. His hands smoothing back and forth over you. He drops a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”

You take a deep breath in time with him, and for the first time all day, a sense of deep calm radiates out from your middle, because suddenly, you know for sure. No matter what Poe does it won’t change anything, no. You’d been right about that. But whatever happens, you are sure now - more than ever - that you will face it together. Maybe with fear, yes, but also with lashings of hope and courage. With all the things that Poe is known for… and all the things you are equally known for too.

Poe holds you and rocks you and kisses you, and together you wait.

You don’t have the answers yet, but you choose to believe that it will all be okay. His hope is catching, like a fire from a spark, and it warms your middle like a hearth.

[uselesssomebody]

rules!

blog rules!

this blog is a safe space for the lgbt+ community as well as p.o.c., so please never feel unwelcome. anyone against these values, please just keep scrolling. be polite in requests/interaction. i love a bit of constructive criticism, but keep it contructive. heed 18+ warning and smut/trigger warnings

writing disclaimers!

i am mostly a romance blog, i.e. i write with the intention (usually) of some romantic conclusion between the two characters. i am also a (pretty much) strictly 'x reader' blog; if you have requests for two canon characters, i will most likely not be able to help you.

writing do's!

request anything to me, guys! i will be alright if you request things with triggering content, i will be alright if you choose real niche characters, and i'll be alright if you send a real specific, super self-indulgent request. of course, some asks will be neglected (due to time or other inability to work on it), but, generally, i attempt to complete works that i am alright working with.

writing don't's!

☁ no under-18/kid readers as part of plot (highschool age for e.g. stranger things & teen wolf is fine as long as the actor is over 18 - so no s.t. kids!) ☁ i'm not qualified to write about stuff like eating disorders, self harm or other mental illness especially from a reader's perspective ☁ kinks like ddlg/age play, anal penetration, bodily fluids (besides blood and cum) ☁ I do not write real person fiction ☁ while generally POC reader requests is okay, i can't write specific races for charcaters besides desi readers (cause i'm desi myself)

who i write for! (always updating)

☁ from stranger things, i write for eddie munson, robin buckley, billy hargrove or steve harrington ☁ from marvel, i write for bucky barnes, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, jake lockley, marc spector, steven grant, layla el-faouly and miguel o'hara ☁ from harry potter, i write for cedric diggory, fred weasley, ron weasley, remus lupin, sirius black, regulus black and james potter ☁ from star wars, i write for poe dameron, or din djarin (the mandalorian) ☁ from triple frontier, i write for frankie morales and santiago garcia ☁ miscellaneous oscar isaac characters i write for include basil stitt, jonathan levy, duke leto, kane and orestes (agora) ☁ miscellaneous pedro pascal characters i write for include joel miller, javier peña, jack daniels (agent whiskey), dio morrissey ☁ miscellaneous sebastian stan characters i write for include lee bodecker, carter baizen and charles blackwood ☁ miscellaneous dylan o'brien characters i write for include thomas (maze runner), stiles stilinski, and stuart (the internship) ☁ other miscellaneous characters include felix catton (saltburn) and paul atriedes (dune) and tess servopoulos (the last of us)

[glaive-guisarme]

Y'all know me and my general reluctance to Do A Capitalism, but like. It's the time and I'm trying to buy my wife a new computer so here I am, Doing A Capitalism. Everything is half off, plus a completely ridiculous "buy it allllll" which amounts to about 75% off.

Highlights include:

​By the Author of Lady Windermere's Fan,​ which is the best RPG ever made about Oscar Wilde plays. This one, in addition to being a hilarious and exhausting game that will resonate with the theater kids in the audience, is just a very funny read.

​Penis 2.0.77​, which is not a "game" so much as it is a zine full of jokes about genitals. Finish off the elaborate character creation for a game that doesn't exist, entirely focused on your underwear zone. 

​Let's Rob RJ McElhenny and Steal Her Golden Quill​, which... hold up, let's check and see if Rowling has said anything this week which makes me want to cry and puke... checking... checking... and yes, of course she did, which means this game is a fucking evergreen catharsis fantasy of wizards robbing a terrible billionaire. 

​You're all lost, starving, in the snowy wilds. You need food. You must sacrifice somebody. But who? Discuss. Vote. Live., ​​​​​ which is a game whose entire text consists of that title, which maxes out the "title field" length when uploading to itch. That was made for a jam and damn if I'm not proud. 

​​o tawa​, which is to the best of my knowledge the first and only RPG written from the ground up in Toki Pona. sona mi la, musi ni li musi wan taso lon toki pona taso. musi la, sina ken tawa lon telo suli, li ken lukin e ma telo nasa, li ken pana e pona tawa jan ale. kin la, sina jo e wawa nasa kepeken nimi pi toki pona. It's a cool way to practice the language if you're learning it! 

​Wooden Sword Thespians​, which is just me going "Thirsty Sword Lesbians is pretty fun but what if instead of powerful adventurers defending your community from toxic threats, you were trying to put on a high school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream?" 

​And more! There's a Disco Elysium game, a Locked Tomb game, a Next Generation game, and weirder little games besides. 

Check it out. Get some games at some discounts. Laugh at my little japes and jests. Get my wife an Acer Aspire TC so she can play Binding of Isaac while she's supposed to be working. Engage in Capital with me.

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

NOTES: I literally put my whole heart and pussy into the previous part and it's just so THRILLING to see all the immense love and support!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

I'm reeeally hoping y'all will like this part, too! Steven has an extremely special place in my heart, but this time we're shifting focus and giving our lovably murderous Moon Boy JAKE his time to shine!! \(^o^)/

Now as we all know, Jake unfortunately hasn't had a lot of screen time yet. I also watched Moon Knight for the third time and besides his confirmed appearance in the post-credits, there are some other more subtle scenes that I'm PRETTY sure Jake was in and it was a lot of fun for me to think so and obsess over!

But I digress! Anywhore, as I was saying, since Jake hasn't been on a lot the way I write him is PURELY made up. Of course, I try my best to capture the vibes I personally get from him, but until Season 2 drops (because I am NOT giving up on that) we don't know for certain what his personality's actually like (and I haven't read the comics please don't shoot me). It was a little challenging, but I really enjoyed getting to explore Jake and his perspective quite a bit! Though he ended up being a bit sadder than I intended CUZ THIS BOI JUST NEEDS AND DESERVES A WHOLE LOTTA LOVIN'❣️

Furthermore, I am not a Spanish speaker. Jake obviously is and I wanna stay as true as possible to the character by having him speak some (*cough* S E X Y *cough*) Spanish throughout, but if I made any mistakes at all then please kindly correct me as I mainly just use Google Translate and/or search up Spanish terms! For example, I was made aware that "ese" means "that" in Spanish. However, it's also Spanish slang for "dude", "man", etc. and I just find it fitting for Jake to call the boys that 😅

Also, Jake is...rough 😳 Don't worry, he loves and cares about you a LOT, but this is a fair WARNING in case you're not into that! And this part got pretty long, IDK I probs blacked out somewhere in the middle and this is le horny result~

Additionally, do y'all think the relationship between reader x Steven/the boys is going too fast? I really try to make it as natural as possible, but hey this is only fiction after all and I think Steven, for one, falls in love FAST since in the show he was already simping for Layla the first time they met 😂 But I can't judge Steven cuz I'd be the same if I ever met Oscar Isaac I mean, I'm already simping now but YOU GET IT

And a lil funny coincidoink, Like A Virgin came on the radio which I guess was your guys' universal push for me to continue this ASAP!

I truly am sorry for the wait!! Life is hard but I simp harder xD

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp @valen-yamyam16 @shaunalouie @howellatme @aleat0ri0 @bean-is-reading @indigxjunipxr

Part 4: Gonna give you all my love, boy

Your chest rose and fell with each soft, blissful snore. Your face void of any burden, open and peaceful; plump lips parted slightly, looking so kissable. And that's exactly what Steven did, lonely lips descending to meet yours--his slumbering goddess.

An insatiable part of him longed for you to awaken, to spend more time fumbling around in the sheets until sunrise. But he knew, more than anyone else, that sleep was important. And he had no doubt that after all the...unique events that progressed your relationship, you deserved all the rest you can get.

Like the proper gentleman he was, he had cleaned you up before snuggling in bed together until dreams inevitably consumed you. And now here you were, using one of his arms that he can't feel anymore as your pillow and your bodies exchanging heat.

Then his mouth lowered, down your chin, to your throat, and to the delicate dip between your neck and shoulder. Planting butterfly kisses on your skin, lips tracing and eyes memorizing every perfect imperfection that dotted your body like constellations.

He noticed your breathing slowly growing uneven, your nipples salaciously peaking through your tank top. He knew he had to stop. He had to, but...

He lifted his free hand, inching towards your breasts before freezing, clenching into a tight fist that had his nails digging into his palm.

His cheeks bloomed red, pulling away and laying on his back as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. What the fuck was he doing?

"Jake, mate... I know you're there, might as well say something, yeah?" Steven whispered.

'Your senses are improving, ese.' Jake snickered. 'Is that why you stopped? No need to be shy, it's just the same as watching porn.'

Steven turned redder, clearing his throat. "Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Silence greeted him. Steven waited patiently, giving his alter all the time he needed. As rough around the edges as they may be, the boys all cared about each other and Steven knew that all Jake needed--deserved--was time. Hell, he and Marc didn't even know Jake existed for a while until he finally felt comfortable enough to reveal himself.

'Nah, ese.' Jake snorted, though his voice held a certain heaviness to it. 'She's all yours. You deserve her, Steven.'

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

'Don't think your little cariño would appreciate it so much that you're wanting to hand her off to some other asshole.' Jake scoffed.

"I'm not 'handing her off', you git. I wanna...share." Steven mumbled the latter, gulping thickly.

'Steven...' Jake sighed, but Steven sensed intrigue in his tone. 'I don't know what the fuck you expect from this talk, ese. We only share the same body, that's it.'

"You're lying and you know it. Two months working with Y/N, I never said anything, but I knew you were always there. This damn body isn't the only thing we share, 'cause I know your feelings are just the same as mine."

It was then that you mewled softly, shifting and wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and cuddling close to his side with a content little smile on your lips as you slept.

Steven melted and he felt Jake do so, too.

"I'm not giving you an out, mate." Steven chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'm absolutely buggered and so are you."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven, that absolute fucking puta.

As soon as Jake opened his eyes, dread filled him. Slowly turning his head and seeing your back to him, he knew Steven gave up control at some point and forced Jake to come out from the shadows.

He's tried multiple times to drag that pendejo back out, but Steven has obviously put up a block between them. Jake sighed frustratedly, his gaze lingering on you once more.

His heart ached. And fuck it hurts.

He wasn't Steven.

He did not deserve you.

He was dirty--rotten. He was only good for causing pain; even the ways in which he protected the boys were brutal, inhumane.

And he loved the chaos. Thrived in it.

When Steven met you for the first time, two months ago, that was what Jake intended to cause as well. Pain. Heartbreak.

Nothing more than another pretty notch to add to his belt.

But you...surprised him. You actually cared about Steven, gave him basic human respect and the time of day when no one else did and just fucking listened. Accepted him with open arms and such a kind, blinding smile. And pretty soon, Jake yearned for that, too. From you. Just you.

You didn't even know he existed--you didn't fucking care about him--and yet you smashed his glass heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to find the sharpest shard and continuously stab himself as punishment.

That's what he deserved. Not you.

But oh... You looked so cold. Why were you so far away? What the hell were you thinking, pulling away from him?

Like a lion stalking its prey, Jake crawled towards you until he was on top of you. His dark eyes trailed down your sleeping form, so beautiful, so vulnerable. He didn't realize his hand was shaking slightly as it reached up to caress your face, breath hitching as his thumb glided across your bottom lip before slowly slipping it inside your mouth.

He watched, completely entranced, as your saliva coated his thumb and the way in which you squirmed so that you were now laying on your back, facing him. You were still asleep, though your brows creased together and your breathing grew shallow.

What were you dreaming about, Jake wondered? Were you dreaming about last night? Steven didn't feel him then, but Jake was there and it was the best torture he's ever endured.

He can make you feel good--better. And if there was any room in your heart (and legs) for him, he'd more than happily prove it to you.

But you were so kind, so sweet... Surely you'd accept him, too, right?

Surely you'd relieve him of his huge fucking hard-on, right?

He found himself lowering, lowering, lowering--then stopped just as his lips were about to meet yours.

No...

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.

As if he was just burnt, he sprang away from you and sat at the foot of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible. His head hung low, hands scrubbing his face in frustration before turning into self-loathing slaps.

He quickly got a hold of himself, lest you have a cruel awakening to him. Not Steven.

He looked over his shoulder. You really did look cold. He unchained the ankle restraint then stood up, walking over to your side and tucking the blanket over your unfairly scantily clad body.

God... How he wished he was the one keeping you warm.

He then shook his head, glancing towards the wall clock. 5:40 a.m.

He can sneak out and do some business for Khonshu. And by the time he returns, hopefully Steven does, too.

He has to.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You rolled over in bed, expecting to cuddle up next to something much more solid than a pillow. Your brows furrowed, a hand flying out to pat the bed and not finding what--who--it was seeking.

Your eyes snapped open and you bolted upright. You looked around in a frenzy, eyes still bleary with sleep and finding the apartment completely empty.

You then noticed the time on the wall clock. 7:20 a.m.

You were off work today, but you weren't sure if Steven had a shift. But even if he did, it was still too early for the museum to open.

So...

Where the hell was Steven?

He couldn't have ditched you...could he? No, that wasn't possible, this was his flat.

But wait... What if this was his subtle way of telling you to get lost? That he didn't want to see you still here when he comes back from wherever the fuck he went to?

You overstayed your welcome, didn't you? This was what it was about, isn't it? This was all your fault, right?

You were on the verge of hyperventilating when, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a bright yellow sticky note on top of the books on the bedside table. You quickly ripped it off, reading the messy, rushed handwriting.

Don't know when I'll be back. Just relax. Food for you is in the kitchen, amor.

You blinked away tears you didn't realize were forming once, twice, then bursted into laughter.

"Fuck, seriously, what is wrong with me?" You berated yourself, still laughing.

This was Steven. Of course he would never abandon you, and you would never abandon him.

He proved it to you, after all. The memories of last night terrorizing your brain once more, making you blush like a virgin (which you were--for now).

You wanted to prove yourself to him, too. And you're sure you'll think of something, but at the moment you became distracted as your eyes landed on Steven's black sweatshirt sprawled carelessly across the floor.

You put on your glasses then hopped off of the bed and picked up the sweatshirt, tugging it on and letting out a giggle as it drooped over your thighs, turning the sleeves into little hand mittens and your body and heart just feeling so warm.

You ambled over to the kitchen, seeing a plate of slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs clumsily covered in plastic wrap on the small dining table. You chuckled softly, taking the plastic off before sitting down and having breakfast.

As you chewed, once again your brain couldn't help but wander off.

It was only a little thing. Such a stupid thing, really. But still, it just would not stop nagging you.

Amor. It was French for 'love'.

But... Steven didn't spell it with a U. It was supposed to be amour.

Amor, no U, was the Spanish spelling. And Steven, who seemed fluent in French, should know that.

But people make mistakes, and who were you to judge such a minuscule, silly mistake?

Before you could entertain yourself by ruminating over such nonsense some more, your ears perked up when you heard the lock click and the door opening and shutting close. You kept quiet, watching as Steven slowly trudged in.

He was wearing a flat cap and a trench coat, and from your spot in the kitchen he hasn't noticed you yet. But he looked...different.

You couldn't quite explain it, but he seemed...tense. On edge. An air of agitation surrounding him, stiff in his movements yet carrying a sense of confidence at the same time.

Wild.

You then swallowed, standing up from your chair and silently making your way over to Steven with his back turned to you as he busied himself with stripping off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt. But before he could react, you spoke up.

"I missed you..." You murmured, embracing him more tightly as you pressed your cheek to his back. "Don't do that again, please. At least wake me up if you're leaving."

Steven didn't say anything, completely rigid and gloved hands balled into tight fists.

Then it clicked.

"You're not Steven...are you?"

His shoulders jerked, and you pulled your face away to look up at him. But you never removed your arms, keeping them in place around his waist.

Then his shoulders drooped, hearing him take a sharp intake of breath before ever so slowly turning his head over his shoulder.

"Caught red-handed." His lips curled up into a smirk, dark eyes gleaming down at you. "You're much more observant than I thought, princesa."

Your breath hitched, mouth agape and eyes blown wide as you gawked at him. You didn't know what to feel. Well, there was definitely excitement, but you weren't sure if it was appropriate for you to feel such a way.

Regardless, you were glad Steven was open and honest with you from the get-go. You knew, at some point, it was inevitable that you'd meet the two other men he's mentioned. So, you weren't too taken aback to be experiencing this right now.

"Judging from your accent and what you called me just now... You must be Jake?" You queried, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at him. Funny, he shared the exact same body as Steven, but he was still...different. The way he held himself, the little quirk to his lips, the look in his eyes--it was all very distinct.

"Don't see why you gotta keep asking me questions, princesa. Seems like ya got it all figured out." Jake scoffed, amusement in his tone.

"Well... You certainly made an...impression when you asked me out." You spoke slowly, carefully, as if not daring to spook some wild animal. You wanted Jake to feel safe, welcomed; because it felt like Jake hasn't at all expected to be here right now, but you wanted to let him know that you didn't mind him. You were happy to be meeting him.

But Jake took it the wrong way. He read your body language as aloof, like you were just trying to be polite. And why wouldn't you be? You were naturally kind, but he knew better.

He was absolutely not supposed to be here. He was never supposed to meet you, never planned to. After all, you preferred Steven.

...Didn't you?

His jaw ticked, his hands untangling your arms around his waist before he spun on his heel to fully face you. You gasped as he did, paling at the sight of blood on his shirt.

"What happened?!" You panicked, your hands immediately touching his body, eyes frantically searching for any injuries. "Did someone hurt you?! Oh my god, who did this to you?!"

"It's not my blood."

You froze, a chill coursing through your veins. Slowly, your head tilted up, meeting his gaze. It was much darker than before, flecks of savagery brewing within. And yet, you also saw...loneliness.

Longing.

"Are you scared, Y/N?"

You held your breath, his voice cracking as he uttered your name for the first time. It was a simple question that had a painfully simple answer.

"I am."

Jake shut his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a wavering breath.

He fucking knew it.

"Jake..." His eyes snapped open at your voice, so soft, so unexpectedly calm. "Will you...hurt me?"

"I would never." He whispered--promised--holding your gaze sincerely. "I couldn't."

"I'm scared of the...things you can do, Jake." You admitted, noticing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. His gaze fell to the floor, but you reached up, gently cupping the side of his face. "But...I'm not scared of you."

Jake met your eyes once more, his hardened expression softening as he sighed, nuzzling into your comforting hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt...safe. He was not one of Khonshu's pawns, he was not Steven or Marc's ruthless protector, he was simply...

Jake Lockley.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured, trembling hand reaching out and caressing your cheek; tenderly, fondly, lovingly. "I...was never supposed to meet you. I was fine watching you quietly. But last night, Steven said he wanted us to meet. For me to be a...part of what you have with him."

A deafening silence rang in your ears. Jake watched you with those intense, soulful eyes, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he waited with bated breath for your reaction. Any reaction.

"Jake..." You have no idea how you even managed to speak, your volatile heartbeat replacing the silence. "Take a shower first, we'll talk after."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Water dripped from Jake's hair, his hands pressed against the wall with his head tilted down as he watched the pristine white tiles of the shower's floor stain red.

This was an all too familiar situation for him. Washing off blood that didn't belong to him, his body getting cleaned though never his damned soul. But it never bothered him before...until now.

He knew there was a chance you'd be awake when he returned, but he figured that he can just pretend to be Steven at least until that idiot takes control of the body again. Jake's done it convincingly enough a few times before back when Steven and Marc were still unaware of his existence, acting as one of them whenever something triggered them and he suddenly had to front.

But when you hugged him, he just...froze. It felt as if he was struck by lightning because this was real--you were real. Your heart-wrenching kindness and beauty were all directed towards him, and he was no longer just a pathetic fly on the wall through Steven's eyes.

But how could he be so fucking dumb? He never should've shown himself, he should've stayed away from the apartment even if it took all day and just let Steven deal with the consequences. And yet...he came back.

Because, the absolute truth is, he wanted to meet you. At his very core, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be with you, no matter the punishment inflicted on him--he inflicts on himself.

But was he really being selfish?

As drastically different as they were, Steven and Marc managed to control their own separate lives. Steven had his job that he despised, but also the comfort of regularly getting a paycheck that provided for his daily needs. Marc was Khonshu's (main) Avatar and as draining as it was, he could still unwind after a long day with a pack of beer and a Chicago Cubs game playing on TV.

And then, of course, there were Moon Knight and Mr. Knight that ultimately tied them together.

But what about Jake? Was he nothing more than a punching bag for Marc and Steven, only seizing command and handling whatever shitshow they got themselves into that they were too weak to finish?

Jake knew that was his job--his purpose. And honestly, it was okay. He cared about the boys, and keeping them safe meant the same for him as well.

...Until you came along. And for the first fucking time, he actually wanted something. Yearned for someone. Just for himself, and not because of anyone else's expectations or demands of him.

He didn't realize it until you came crashing into Steven's--and his--life like some fucking meteorite, but he was empty. And on the extremely rare occasions that Jake was entitled to the body all for himself, he grew tired of being tired from aimlessly hopping bar to bar. Nearly wiping all his fucking memories out with heavy drinks and the need--the desperation--to forget about the problems he deliberately ignores, hides, even for one single measly night through fucking some random stranger he didn't and won't ever care about.

But you weren't a stranger, that was perfectly clear. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months; and here you were now, looking all cute--tempting--wearing Steven's sweatshirt, eating breakfast in his home, as his girlfriend.

Steven's girlfriend. Not Jake's girlfriend.

"Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Steven's words from last night echoed in Jake's head, taunting him. And the ridiculous proposition that followed afterwards, of the two of them sharing you.

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

And maybe, just maybe...Steven's right.

Maybe Jake did deserve you.

But did you deserve him?

"What's got you looking all emo?" Jake's head abruptly whipped around, seeing you with one hand holding the shower curtain open while the other clutched onto a towel covering your body.

Your naked body.

Jake's mouth went dry, completely paralyzed. All he could do was let his eyes scan you from head to toe, undressing you in his mind. He's already seen you last night and he thought he'd be fine just basking you in from Steven's point of view, but oh...he thought dead wrong.

Because now he really wanted to touch you. Feel you. Make you come undone, all because of him. All for him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question came out sharper than he intended it to, eyes narrowing as he watched your gaze drop, shifting on your feet uncertainly along with the tantalizing way you bit your lip.

You seemed to be engaging in a silent war with yourself before you shook your head, straightening up as you dared to meet his eyes and slowly dropped the towel to the floor.

"I told Steven this before, but I prefer to get things over with." You smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping into the shower; the warm drizzle of water helped to thaw the ice cold sensation anxiety gripped you with. "I'm a very impatient woman, Mr. Lockley."

"And you think jumping into the shower completely naked with a man you barely know is the answer to your impatience, señorita?" Jake arched a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, it's not like I can get into the shower with clothes on, right? That's just fucking stupid." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Besides... It's because I want to get to know you that I'm here."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, princesa." Jake murmured, his smirk instantly vanishing; that furrowed brows, clenched jaw sternness once more overtaking his striking features as he regarded you. "I'm not your sweet, sensitive little boyfriend. I'm not Steven." He practically hissed out the name, though there was more sadness to it than venom.

"This isn't a game to me, Jake." You stated firmly, standing your ground as you held your chin high and levelled your gaze with his. "None of this is. I take Steven very seriously--I take our relationship very seriously." You paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And I know, maybe I'm moving too fast, and I totally understand your doubts about this--about me. But I'm not a fucking dumbass. I know you're not Steven and I like you, anyway."

Jake was rarely speechless, but even as his mouth parted to say something--anything--nothing came out. He felt something fall down his cheek, and he wasn't too sure if it was water or the strange liquid that suddenly made his vision all blurry.

But he didn't have much time to ponder on it when your hand gently pressed against his cheek, your eyes kind and full of adoration, the same adoration you always bless Steven with and something Jake believed was only a far-off miracle for him.

"Y/N..." He choked out, glossy dark eyes intently set on you. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Jake." You were quick to counter, taking a step closer, now being chest to chest with Jake. "You're a part of Steven, and anything--anyone--that's a part of him is beautiful. And you sure as hell deserve to live your own life, too. And, well, if you'll have me..." You blushed, looking down. "...I would really, really like to get to know you better, Jake Lockley."

Silence smothered you, wrapping its invisible claws around your neck, and you now fully understood what people meant when they say something takes forever. You thought it would be easier and much less frightening if the ground actually opened up and swallowed you whole, but Jake finally put you out of your misery, his hand turning off the shower and a low chuckle bubbling out of him.

"Well... Damn." He smirked, cocking his head down at you, though his smug demeanour couldn't mask the rosiness that dusted his cheeks. "You really do like me and Steven, huh, querida? Or maybe it's just your boobs up against me that's convincing me."

"Well, if it's helping you to believe me, then I'm not complaining." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts against him. Both of your breaths stuttered at the close, intimate contact, and you whimpered as his hands landed on your hips, callused fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

"Dios mío..." He growled lowly, his hands slowly, reverently travelling up the curves of your body, leaving a burning wake, before dipping once more and giving your ass a hard smack.

"Ah..!" You gasped, lurching forward, your face bumping against his solid chest. You felt his chest vibrate as a deep laugh rumbled out of him, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back.

"I ain't lying when I said I'm not your sweet, sensitive boyfriend." There was mania in his eyes, baring shiny white teeth as he grinned widely at you; like a shark who's smelled blood--your blood--from a mile away, he's set his target and can't be satisfied by anything, anyone else. "Then again, if you could see Steven's thoughts like I can, 'sweet and sensitive' aren't completely accurate for him."

You gulped, but not from fear. You squeezed your thighs together, pupils dilating as you stared up at Jake. "I-I don't mind if you or Steven aren't sweet and sensitive. I wanna be treated nice, but there are plenty of ways 'nice' can be translated to..." You placed a hand on his abs, lips parting as you traced along his taut muscles, looking like some fucking Greek sculpture--a god--with the way his wet body shimmered a divine bronze. "Don't you think so...Papi?"

With no warning, you felt the air get knocked out of you as his lips collided with yours, attacking you; tongues intertwining with a clash of teeth, the moist smack of your lips harmonizing with the vulgar moans Jake drew out of you.

You felt Jake's neediness, the desperation underlying his roughness--as if this was not just the first, but the only time he'd get to kiss you and have you for himself.

As if you'd ever allow for this to be the only time.

Your hands fell to his shoulders, nails breaking his skin and marking him with crescent indents. He groaned as you did, kissing you with even more fervour, fiery passion never ceasing as you both chased after that hellish ecstasy; seizing, bruising, suffocating you.

More, more, more. Giving and taking, taking, taking.

You just could never have enough, clueless as to where you started and Jake ended, Jake's tongue practically down your throat now. You know you needed air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but your body refused.

If this was how you died, then you'd die an elated woman.

But Jake suddenly pulled away from you, making you whine loudly. Your hands pawed at his chest, tears springing to your eyes and your ears couldn't even register the pitiful pleas that tumbled out of your mouth for more, more, more.

"You're such a fucking slut, aren't you, mi amor?" Jake snickered, one hand wrapping around your neck, thumb stroking the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to feel as if your head was floating. "Steven always saw you as this pure, innocent angel. But you're not, aren't you? You wanna be corrupted, don't you? You wanna be my pretty little devil, slut?"

"I'll be anything for you, Papi." You replied breathlessly, tears staining your scarlet cheeks. "Just be my everything."

"I'll be whatever--do whatever--for you, mi vida." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, his earnesty and sweetness cloying. His other hand caressed your face before he leaned down, his tongue licking away your salty tears, a reprieve from the rapturous flames that engulfed him. "Now... What do you want Papi to do?" He purred, smirking wolfishly down at you. "You want me to fuck you? Spread your little virgin pussy, fill you up with my cock? Wanna see how much you can take, cariño. Take all my cum, don't waste a single fucking drop."

As tempting as his filthy words were, as much as you wanted to, you remembered how Steven refused to have sex with you last night. Of his promise that he'll make love to you another time, when he was better prepared with condoms. And fuck, you wanted him--them--so badly. Steven and Jake. But you respected Steven and his decision, and you did also want for your lovemaking to be special.

"Can I taste your cock, Papi?" You asked, biting your lip as you met Jake's gaze shyly. You felt like a mouse and he was the lion, yet you held the power in whatever was going to happen. "I-I promise I'll take it all... Take all your cum, like a good girl."

Jake knew that you chose not to have sex with him out of respect for Steven, and that only made him love you more. He felt a pang in his heart and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, eyes locking with yours, full of tenderness and affection.

Right then and there, he knew that you were "the one". For him and Steven.

"Get on your knees like a good fucking girl, then." He breathed, and you didn't hesitate as you instantly dropped to your knees, breasts jiggling slightly as you did. Your eyes widened as his cock stood proudly, mere inches away from your face.

"I...I'm sorry if I'm...bad." Your voice came out as a squeak, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "I-I've never done this before!"

"You better have not or else I'll hunt down and kill all the fuckers you've ever been with." He barked out a laugh, but his eyes were dark and serious.

Murder was not something Jake Lockley ever joked about, after all.

Strangely enough, you found his possessiveness...sexy. Which only meant that Jake was already corrupting you.

But was that really such a bad thing?

You shook your head, focusing on the cock--erm, task--at hand. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, hearing Jake breathe sharply through his nose as you did. You licked your lips as you watched the pre-cum drip out of the tip, so curious, so transfixed like a moth to a flame.

Your tongue then darted out, experimentally licking the milky fluid. Jake threw his head back with a guttural groan; you've barely even started, and it made you fucking giddy that he reacted like this.

"Jake..." You murmured, giggling softly. You peered up at him through your long lashes, flashing him a dazzling smile. "You're so beautiful, Jake."

"That ain't something you should call a man, mi vida." Jake scoffed, but the crimson tint on his cheeks have spread like wildfire to the tips of his ears and neck. "Especially not when you're the beautiful one."

"Going soft on me now, Jakey?" You teased lightheartedly, slowly beginning to stroke his length.

Jake's breath hitched, brows furrowing as he watched you intently, attentively. "You really are a little devil, Y/N." He chuckled deeply, and you knew that meant trouble. "You think I'm going soft? Looks like you really have a lot you need to know about me."

Like before, his hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him. "Open up, slut." And you did, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You flinched slightly as his cock hit your tongue, his other hand grabbing his member and moving it around on your tongue, painting it white.

"Now you're gonna be a good cocksucker, got it?" He grinned down devilishly at you, eyes twinkling with sheer, wicked glee. "You're gonna make Papi cum, like the good whore that you are."

You nodded hastily, eagerly. And you just couldn't fucking take it anymore, jostling forward and burying his cock in your wet, hot mouth.

"That's. Fucking. It." Jake hissed, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, you began to bob your head, your mouth accommodating his size. You briefly wondered how anyone could ever even compare this to a banana or a popsicle stick; it was much bigger and your jaw started to hurt, which Jake quickly noticed as you tensed.

"Hey, relax." He cooed, reaching down to tenderly wipe away the tears you didn't realize were flowing down your cheeks. "Easy, Y/N. Relax your mouth, loosen up your throat... Fuck, yeah, that's it. Keep going, hermosa."

With newfound confidence and assurance, you gradually increased your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with each rhythmic bop of your head. Up, down, up, down--Jake's sinful groans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, never breaking eye contact as you burned all of him into memory.

Then your surprised gasp was muffled as his foot pressed against your clit, only offering you a cocky smirk in return.

He began to move his foot, his toes budging your clit and stroking along your pussy. You moaned around his cock, grinding against his foot for more friction. Then his other hand grabbed onto your hair, both of his hands now pushing and pulling your head up, down, up, down--drool spilling down the sides of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag as the tip of Jake's cock pounded your throat, your hands floundering to his thighs as you clung on for dear life.

"Fuck, look at you... Una putita tan bonita solo para mí." He laughed, the thrusts of his hips growing fiercer, more rabid as he mercilessly fucked your throat. "Wanna taste me, mi vida? Think you've earned it?"

All you could do was nod, nod, nod--looking up at him pleadingly as you continued to desperately grind yourself against his foot, your own orgasm fast approaching.

Jake's jeering laughter soon stuttered into a heavy, gasping moan; his eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, hitting the wall. You felt his cock twitch, releasing his seed, shooting down your throat and his balls slamming against your chin.

Your own release coated Jake's foot, your entire body shuddering from the intensity of it all and coughing as Jake finally withdrew his cock out of your mouth. But you didn't have time to revel in the afterglow as Jake's hand wrapped around your neck once more, dragging you up and crashing his lips with yours. You swapped spit and cum, but neither of you cared; the two of you groping, squeezing, clinging onto each other any which way your needy hands could fumble.

You didn't keep track anymore of who pulled away first, laughter ringing in your ears as you both grinned at each other; spent, happy.

The dawn of something new, exciting, promising shining between the two of you.

Wordlessly, Jake turned on the shower again. Then he grabbed the soap, his hands gliding along your smooth skin, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck where he could see the faint pinpricks of his handprint slowly materializing.

"Did I hurt you, mi vida?" As rough of a lover as Jake was, none of his pleasure mattered if you didn't enjoy yourself.

"A little bit." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "But it's okay. I...liked it." You blushed furiously.

"Fuck..." He grumbled, pulling away and looking very much like a kicked puppy, something that you thought only Steven was a pro at. "As cute as you are blushing like that, princesa, I'm so fucking sorry. I know I should know when to stop, when to be gentle...but those are not really what I'm good at." His eyes drifted down, and you can tell that he had a lot more to say. A lot more to regret. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"I forgive you, Jake. Now please... Stop beating yourself up, okay?" You cupped his face, pecking his nose and meeting his gaze. "I'm not lying when I said I liked it, but don't blame yourself too much. I also should've done something, spoken up if it was too painful for me." Your fingers ran through his hair, smiling softly, lovingly at him. "All of this is new for me--for us. But it's okay, 'cause we can learn together, yeah? And if you'd like, we can come up with a safe word if things get too rough."

Jake hesitated, wondering if you were really telling the truth and not just trying to comfort him. But one look at your sweet, loving smile was more than enough for his worries and doubts to fade away, his own smile gracing his lips and his hands holding your own that were so gently, kindly cupping his face.

"I think that would be great. Any idea what the safe word should be?"

"I was thinking 'Khonshu'." Your answer made Jake snort before he bursted into laughter, you joining shortly after.

"Mi vida, if you say that bastardo's name while we're fucking, you really are gonna make me go soft." He chuckled, pinching your cheek and kissing your forehead.

"Fine, fine! Clearly coming up with a safe word is what I'm not good at. Let's figure it out together." You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling and kissing his cheek. "Anyway, I'll head out first. But don't take too long or else I'll jump in the shower with you again and for the sake of Steven's water expenses, you do not want that happening."

"On one condition, señorita. You have to wear my clothes when you get out, not Steven's." He hummed to which you laughed and nodded, but just as you were about to step out of the shower, Jake suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest.

He leaned down to your ear, voice a low purr as he spoke; like it was a secret, a sacred oath between only the two of you.

"El amor de mi vida, mi salvavidas... Nunca te dejaré ir."

Your lips curled up into a smile, your heart swelling achingly within your chest. You turned around and leaned up on your tiptoes, your lips melting perfectly together with Jake's, becoming one.

"I love you, Jake Lockley." You whispered, sealing your oath. "Now... Don't keep me waiting. You know I'm an impatient woman."

Jake watched with a dumb, lovestruck grin as you pulled away giggling, finally stepping out of the shower and closing the bathroom door behind you. And as soon as you were gone, Jake piped up to the other occupant in the bathroom.

"Steven, ese... I know you're there, might as well say something, huh?"

'Bloody HELL, mate...' Steven's words stumbled out in a rushed, breathless breath. 'That was MENTAL.'

"You're welcome for the free show, ese." Jake chuckled, standing under the spray of the shower as he washed himself off.

Although Jake couldn't see Steven, he knew that the poor, flustered English man was having a damn heart attack at this very moment.

'That was...that was...' Steven was completely at a loss for words, making Jake smirk.

"The hottest fucking thing you've ever seen? Yeah, I know. Y/N's our sexy girlfriend, after all." Jake turned off the shower, hopping out and drying himself off with a towel. "You're right, by the way. We're both absolutely fucked."

'I'm just glad it all worked out, mate.' Steven replied, relief and happiness flooding his voice. 'You deserve her. WE deserve her. It's just...' He trailed off, sighing deeply. 'Now that I think about it, I'm worried about Marc.'

"Fuck Marc." Jake snapped, his eyes settling on the mirror, Steven's reflection staring back at him with an anxious crease between his brows and lips downturned. "We deserve to live our own lives, too, Steven. That cabrón's just gonna have to deal with it."

And deal with it, Marc will. But...

You'll have to deal with Marc, too.

[vecnasrevengerp]

welcome home ARGYLE FUENTES (oscar isaac fc)

hope you brought your tissues with you! be sure to check in at home or to your hotel and don’t forget to always look over your shoulder. this is hawkins, after all.

BASICS

      [OSCAR ISAAC, CISMALE, HE/HIM] When’s the last time anyone heard anything about [ARGYLE FUENTES]? Old friends remember them as [OPEN-MINDED & LAID-BACK] but also [BLUNT & OBLIVIOUS], no wonder they’re still known as [THE BASKET CASE] around town. Today, in 2006, they are [39] and some people say they remind them of [the faint ever-present smell of weed lingering in your clothes despite your attempts to cover it up with essential oils and incense of every kind; unexpectedly making the move from ‘token sidekick’ to the trope of ‘genius ditz’; finding fulfillment in the simple things in life; perpetually sore muscles from keeping up a brave face  ]. [you know who iam. (threat)].    

BIOGRAPHY

TW: DEATH MENTION, GRIEF

Maybe deciding to stay in Hawkins had been the easiest decision Argyle had ever made in his life. Jonathan had been his first real friend in the world, as Argyle would later quote at Jonathan’s wedding reception, his life had… basically started the moment he’d walked into Mrs. Miller’s classroom at the beginning of the year, the second he’d sat down on the only empty seat left in the class and Argyle had turned to him with a grin so big it had made his cheeks ache. Brochachos for life. Trauma-bonded until the end of their lives after that wild fucking roadtrip they’d gone on, spring break of ‘86.

First, though, Argyle had to wait until graduation. He’d promised his abuela on her deathbed that he’d finish school, and he’d sort of promised himself, too. There were plenty of people, loads of teachers included, who seemed to be convinced that, because he indulged in the occasional blunt, he’d never amount to anything, much less academic success. But, ha, he’d show them! (Also, he wasn’t going to start shit with the ghost of his grammy. He may have promised her to stay in school but she had promised him to come back and haut his ass if he didn’t. And she’d already been scary while alive, no need to risk anything. ) Show them he motherfucking did. Walking that stage at graduation with a joint tucked behind his ear, a wide grin, bathing in the gobsmacked stares of all the people who’d thought he couldn’t do it. Take that, Lenora Hills. Take that, Martin from Algebra. Take that, uh…. what was that dude’s name again?

Having successfully graduated from High School, all Argyle needed to before moving to Hawkins was drop out of community college.  A predictable move for him, sadly. He’d stuck it to the haters with the 3.8 GPA at graduation. Then he’d proceeded to un-stick it to them by giving up his place at Lenora community. But whatever, there were more important things in Argyle’s life now than studying and drinking questionable amounts of alcohol out of red solo cups. Lenora community would still be there if Argyle ever decided to move back to Cali, and, besides, Hawkins had a community college of its own. So, Argyle could support his best bro and get an education! Two birds with one beautiful, smooth, warm stone. A joint between his lips, Argyle handed in his apron and drove the Surfer Boy van along the coast for one last time.

Life in Hawkins was … different, to say the least, but easier to adapt to than he’d initially thought.The first few months were spent mostly indoors, comforting and supporting Jonathan in any way he could. Movie nights, long talks over a shared joint in the middle of the night. Whatever he needed, Argyle was there to provide it. Whether that was a grocery run, a call to the funeral home to re-negotiate a deal on the caskets. Argyle proved to be a real jack of all trades during that time -  a time of mutual comfort during gried, though, because, of course, Argyle wasn’t left completely untouched by the deaths of Will and El, either. He’d known them for as long as he’d known Jonathan, had needed to get used to this new version of the Byers household, as quiet as he’d never experienced it before. The first few months until well after the funeral, Argyle did everything to be as accommodating as possible to Jonathan, Hopper, Joyce.

Oh, Joyce. Bless her heart. Argyle hadn’t been fortunate enough to have grown up with a mom, raised by his father and abuela, and that had been totally fine and lovely! But holy cow, wasn’t it lovely, too, that Joyce Byers had taken him in like one of her own. He’d even called her ‘mom’ by accident a couple of times. But it wasn’t horrific like it was when he’d been so tired he’d accidentally called Mrs. Croucher ‘mom’ in history class. No, the opposite, actually, Joyce had merely laughed, ruffled Argyle’s hair, a distant look of sadness in her eyes she tried to hide by quickly asking him if he wanted anymore mashed potatoes.

It’s Joyce that pitches the idea of a roadtrip to California to him. Arglye quickly pitches it to Jonathan and, after a little convincing, they’re back in the Surfer Boy Pizza van, a big, foldable map spread out across Jonathan’s lap while Argyle happily drums along to ‘Break My Stride’ on the steering wheel. Down the West Coast to California. A trip down memory lane - stopping by the Byers old residence, paying a visit to Argyle’s father and his new wife - with a healthy dose of laying on the sand at Santa Monica beach, sharing a joint while watching the sunset. ‘You know, brochacho’, Argyle would say with a dazed grin, watching intently as the red and orange and blue of the sea exploded into a lovely rose-ish colour, ‘everytime there’s a, like, a super, like, pretty sunset? That’s my abuela saying hi. And Will, to. And your little sis.’ And he would nod to no one in particular, before adding, a little quieter; ‘Sorry I ratted you out to Joyce with the viscious skate attack, little bro. That was actually so badass.’ And they would be quiet for a while.

Once back from their trip, Argyle, having blown through his Surfer Boy savings, got a job at the laundromat. He just sat there most of the time, blazed, talking to little old Dolores about her cat or her husband, he wasn‘t quite sure. Since moving to Hawkins, Argyle had gone on a journey of … finding himself. He’d pretty much sailed through life, couldn’t really name any goal or aspiration he had. Everytime they’d taken one of those career aptitude test he’d panicked - all those things sounded sort of good! But also all of them sounded sort of bad, too… god, how could he ever decide what to do with his life?

One night, he had an epiphany. Having consumed a criminal amount of weed, the idea had suddenly popped into his head, and he cursed himself for not having thought of it sooner. ‘A speak easy….. but, like, for weed, man!’ A buddy of his had gone to Amsterdam in the summer, told him about the ‘coffee shops’ there. But how much more exciting when it was, like, secret! And smoking was still criminalized, at least in Indiana it was. Had he stuck gold here?

Argyle’s secret-but-not-so-secret weed speakeasy, the weed sponsored in part by one of the friends except Jonathan he’d made in Hawkins, some super cool dude named Reefer Rick, opened underneath the laundromat soon after. With moderate success among insiders but, hey, success nonetheless!

However, once Argyle pitched the idea to some of his buddies who owned a couple of weed dispensaries in Cali, he had really stuck gold, like, seriously.  A place where you could both purchase the goods and consume them, in a safe space, a comfy environment? Genius. Truly. Maybe this had been Argyle’s purpose all along, being a business owner. A true business man. But without the stuffy suits and the, like, cocaine and infidelity.

Suddenly, as if overnight, Argyle Fuentes is, like, rich. Like, filthy rich, or something akin to that. Like, raking in dough, rich. When he checks his bank account for the first time in months - he doesn’t usually do that, money is made up, anyway - he can scarcely believe it’s real. ‘Don’t spend it all at once!’, the bank teller cautions him with a playful wink. Argyle nods, proceeds to by his dad and step-mother their house. He pays off whatever debts they have. Then he withdraws a fifty and leaves. He scarcely, if ever, touches his funds, why should he? He’s got everything he needs. He makes sure Jonathan’s fridge is full, makes sure he’s got snacks in his own, too. Every once in a while, Argyle will pick a good cause to donate some of the money to.

Oh, he buys a cat, too. Garfield. Who … looks nothing like Garfield, but it was the only cat name he could think of. So now he’s rich and he has a cat and he travels for business (fucking business) every once in a while, but truly, Argyle is happiest when he’s lounging on a bench near lover’s lake, basking in the few hours of sun Hawkins got in a day.

During his travels he meets the woman that, soon enough, will turn Argyle into an actual dad. She’s a good buddy, one joint too many and one thing had led to another,a one night stand had turned into a future of co-parenting. No bad blood between them, fuck, if anything, Argyle was stoked! He’d always wanted to be a dad, and this was going to be a challenge, of course, but one he’d happily take on. He’s so happy, it’s ridiculous. The fact that she doesn’t pressure him to either marry her or stay completely out of her and the little bud’s life is a huge relief on him, too.

Everything’s going too good, almost, in comparison to what Jonathan’s going through. When Joyce passes, Argyle puts all other things on hold, rushes to Jonathan’s side. Surely, this dude had been through enough trauma to last a lifetime, and here came another hit. But Argyle is there, and he’s not going anywhere. Fuck, he’s in this for life, no take-backsies.

Argyle put his surfer boy cap - or one of them, the man’s got thousands - in the time capsule, along with the recipe to the famous surfer boy pizza dough (there’s a secret ingredient in there that Argyle can’t even remember now),

STATS

       Please distribute up to fifty points among the following stats! Click here for more detailed instructions on stats.

Athletics (How Athletic are they?)  1

Burglary (Can they swipe stuff?) 3

Contacts (Do they know people with information?) 3

Deceive (Are they a good liar?) 0

Drive (like, actual driving ability) 2

Empathy (How much of an empath are they?) 3

Fight (Do they have hands?) 0

Investigate (Can they sleuth?) 2

Lore (Kinda like knowledge) 1

Medicine (First aid essentially) 1

Navigation (How good are they with a map/getting around?) 0

Notice (Is your character observant?) 1

Provoke (Are they a shit stirrer?) 0

Rapport (Are they charming? Can they do it on command?) 2

Resourcefulness (MacGyver scale) 3

Stealth (Are they sneaky?) 1

Will (Tenacity) 2

    EXTRAS

     pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.co.uk/edsmunson/argyle/

[doomalade]

Doing this cause I’m bored

So I was rewatching some older videos of @sytokun (do check out and support the Switchback channel and the stuff SYTO makes btw) and this one got me thinking.

How would I fancast a live action RWBY?

Of course some choices in this video I really can’t think of any better choices.

Oobleck - David Tennant

Port - Brian Blessed

Qrow - Robert Patterson or Johnny Depp

Torchwick - Domnhall Gleeson

Fennic and Corsac - Rami Malek and Oscar Isaac

Jaune - Will Porter (or Cameron Monaghan, I’ll come back to this later)

Oscar - Justice Smith

Penny - Sophia Lillis

Tyrian - Burn Gorman

I’ll get back to my personal reasonings on these but I do want to start with our main four. Also like, I am not gonna get these perfect but I’m gonna try to at least stay consistent with look, ages, and acting range.

Ruby - Camren Bicondova. Now I know that she doesn’t really act anymore but she just strikes me as Ruby. I’m kinda trying to stay in the 20s-30s range for this and idk have it be like set after canon or something so the ages don’t feel too off but that’s beside the point. She’s most well known for her role as Catwoman in Gotham, and I really think she can have that young and playful but also serious when the moment calls for it vibe.

My other choice for Ruby would be Emma Myers. Her energy in Wednesday as Enid just felt Ruby to me? Idk how to explain it. Short hair, vibrant energy, but can get down to business when the moment calls for it.

Weiss - Anya Taylor-Joy. Having been in The Menu, The Queen’s Gambit, Last Night In Soho, The New Mutants, and as Princess Peach in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, she really has a wide range in her acting. Being snarky but also somber is certainly in her range. I really thing that she also bounces off her costars really well.

Blake - Zendaya. Okay stick with me here, MJ from the Spider-Man “Home” Trilogy is Blake. That quiet and reserved but also snarky and quick witted energy. Idk it just feels like it fits so well. Also I don’t want this fan casting to be more pale than Weiss with sun lotion on so yeah.

Yang - I’m actually gonna take this one from the SYTO fancast, Leah Lewis. She fits into the age range of the other girls, she has that Yang energy of being a bit of a party girl, and most importantly, is that she’s Chinese which is already doing more than the actually show for proper Chinese rep. Lol. Lmao even.

But uh yeah, I think I’m gonna leave it at that for now.

I will come back to this and maybe tackle JNPR and actually explain the choices at the top and also maybe do Ozpin, Glynda, and Ironwood.

[anothersebastianblog]

Of course he's in LA, he hasn't been spotted in NY since that play with Oscar Isaac / he hasn't been spotted in LA either since then and up until now (if the author actually saw him). We can't just assume/except him to be joined at the hip with Annabelle 24/7, and I'm saying this as a huge shipper😅

That’s also true ofc

Im not sure if they actually travelled together the same exact day tbh I won’t exclude that he had other stuff to do in nyc. It seems believable that, at least now, he is in LA just because he is spotted more in nyc so, besides annabelle, when he disappears people tend to think that he is in LA. Of course he could be anywhere