#but there's still time for Agree to win out

[jumiinx]

napalm ;; vi x reader

cw: pitfighter!vi, established relationship, hurt/comfort?, except it's more angst than comfort sorryyy, vi is nicer in this one i promise, blood mention, smut implied. men and minors dni.

wc: 831

vi had promised to stop fighting.

and yet still, every night, she found herself in the ring once more, letting out her anger on whichever poor fool decided to fight her. 

it would end the same, with her knuckles bloody and a few random bruises decorating her body.

but this time was worse. way worse. 

it was some shimmer-junkie who had fucked her up badly. and it ended with her barely being conscious, and the fight was called off. she could see it in his eyes when he threw punches, the bright, feral pink drug swirling around in his eyes. his blows were sloppy and unfocused, driven by pure strength and instinct. 

her abdomen screamed at her with every step she took as she stumbled through the dingy streets of the undercity. with her hand on the wall, she managed to stumble through the narrow alley, her other hand clutching at her side. 

the stinging pain at her side was nothing in comparison to her dread of seeing the look on your face. you would check her for injuries and kiss the worst bruises. you wouldn’t judge her, but she could see that it was affecting you. 

she couldn’t handle seeing the worry on your face. 

so she had promised you that she would quit the fights, and you agreed. 

but there was something in her that couldn’t stop, no matter how hard she tried. 

the adrenaline after winning was like nothing else. it filled an ache that nothing else could, not even your love.

she felt like she was honoring vander every time she won.

because for every win, it was just a reminder that she couldn’t save her father.

𝜗𝜚

you were up late, pacing around your shared apartment. the only sound was the soft thumping of your feet against the floor.

normally she would be home by now. she was never gone for this long. you couldn’t help but worry, knowing she was most likely in the pit again.

you never went out in the lanes this late, but if she didn’t come back in five minutes then-

you stop, hearing the door open. 

for a moment, all you could hear was her panting. after you walk towards the door, your eyes zone in on the nasty, dark contusion. 

a quiet gasp leaves your lips.

“vi-”

“i know.” she grimaces, before trudging in, leaning against the wall. her knuckles were bloody, a few drops of the crimson liquid still dripping down and landing on the floor.

you immediately go up to her and check the deep wound. “fuck, vi. you promised-” you hiss, your gaze snapping up to meet her powder-blue orbs. 

your eyebrows were scrunched together, but you knew you couldn’t be mad at her for very long.

“i, i got so worried. you scared me.” there was no real bite in your words, you loved her too much for that. she knew that. 

“ah, i’ve had worse, from before we met.” a lie. or maybe not, you couldn’t tell. 

you lean up and rest your forehead against her, savoring the smell, and even sweat of her, while the pink ends of her hair tickle your nose. you wished she would realize how harmful this was for her, and for you.

vi’s voice was full of shame. “i’m-.” she paused, unable to finish, and she knew the rush from fighting was something she would never give up. you knew that. 

and so you help take her jacket off, with your soft hands wrapping bandages around her toned torso. you wince at every pained groan that leaves her lips. you wrap up her hands with white gauze, and the fabric felt like torture as it rubbed against her wounded knuckles. good. maybe she’ll learn.

her arm wraps around your shoulder and you help her lay on the bed. 

“do you need anything for the pain?” you ask softly. always doting on her. you were too sweet, too good for her.

she shook her head, her knuckles now no longer bloody as they rested on their cheap mattress. “just you.” vi looked up at you from where you stood, and suddenly the scary pitfighter of zaun didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

you trace her cheek, and lean down for a kiss. 

it was soft, gentle. everything she wasn’t.

“please, vi.” you murmur against her lips. “i can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.” her scarred upper lip pursed, and she kissed you once more. an apology. she was never good with words.

you lower yourself onto her lap, being mindful of the numerous abrasions. you let her leave light pecks on your neck. each one their own plea for forgiveness. 

you grasp her jaw and you feel her hands wrap around your waist as they pull you closer. 

“show me you’re sorry.” you mumble, already feeling her hands rest on your thighs. 

vi grins.

“mmh…my favorite part.” she chuckles, before pulling you to her lips once more. 

𝜗𝜚

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 16

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Only a 4-5 more chapters to go!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You let out a groan as you finally collapse into your chair. Even though today’s a half day, you’re exhausted. Your legs still throb with soreness from skating over the weekend and you’ve spent the morning on your feet running activities with your students. You’d do anything to go home and you gaze at the clock longingly, but your day is far from over. This week you’re hosting parent-teacher conferences. So while your students get to go home early, you’re still expected to be at the school for the rest of the day as parents and guardians come to speak with you on a one-on-one basis. Truth be told, it’s your least favorite part of this job. You love your kids, even at their most exhausting, they’re the light of your day. Their parents, however, are quite the opposite.

The biggest downside to working at a private school like Acadia Academy is that most of your students’ parents are rich, sometimes outrageously so. With that money comes power and authority, and they feel no qualms about exerting in whatever way gets them their desired results. It also means that their usually too busy being rich to have an active role in their children's lives. The resulting conferences are usually akin to talking to a brick wall. The parents are usually concerned with little more than visible and sometimes exclusively numerical results when it comes to their children rather than taking constructive feedback on how they can get involved in their child’s education, or in some cases, raising. Worse, they're usually more than willing to achieve those results by material or financial means. You’d been shocked the first time you’d been presented with the barrage of gift baskets, cards, and bottles of wine during your first Christmas at Acadia Academy. They were either sent with your students who were none the wiser, or dropped off personally with saccharine smiles paired with a threatening gaze that communicated the true intentions of the lavish gifts.

You’d been gripped with a sense of guilt and shame as you tried to decide what to do with them when Simon had given you some good advice. “Do whatever you want, it’s your job at the end of the day. But don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. They don’t bat an eye at the expense, so you shouldn’t either. I save a boatload on groceries in December just living off the free food and even more on gifts themselves. If you’re going to be a part of the system, you have to play the game too, but there’s nothing wrong with enjoying your winnings.” And so you did. You regifted the wine, and even some of the baskets, taking Simon’s advice and living off the rest of it. And he was right. While you’d had the odd complaint later down the line, you had yet to face any real retaliation from any of the parents when you didn’t automatically hand their children the grades they paid for.

You glance at the schedule on your desk, in an effort to mentally prepare yourself for whoever you’d have to face first. Your lips turn down as you read Allison’s name in the first slot.

Allison is the unofficial head of the parents, a perfect, polished, model PTA mother. She’s informed, always on top of the class and school’s goings on, and eager to help when volunteers are needed, always going above and beyond. Sometimes you wonder if she’s gunning for your job, but that’s highly unlikely. Allison is a private yoga instructor, allowing her the freedom to be involved with the school and her children’s lives whenever she wants. When she’s not bending over backward for a living, she’s busy running PTA meetings, escorting her children to their multiple extracurriculars, and being the doting wife to her husband, Ted, whom you’ve only met once. He works in some kind of local governmental office, one that he and Allison would have you believe is incredibly important and thus a very pressing commitment that unfortunately results in his constant absence from his children’s lives.

A sharp knock at your door snaps your attention back to the present and you sit up straight, clearing your desk of papers from your morning classes as you call out for Allison to come in. Your attention lingers on your desks for a moment longer than it should before you look up at Allsion’s approaching figure. Her high heels click against the linoleum and you’re struck by how much she reminds you of your first impression of Zam.

When you’d first met the PR manager of the Dogfighters, her sharp appearance and no-nonsense attitude had instantly made you think of Allison. As you’ve gotten to know her, however, you’ve learned that that persona is reserved for work and she’s much more relaxed and loose in her personal life. While Zam’s wardrobe is bright pastels, Allison opts for deep jewel tones that ooze luxury and wealth. Today she’s wearing a silk blouse in a vibrant royal blue that compliments her piercing blue eyes. Her blonde hair falls in glossy waves that bounce with every sharp step she takes. Allison deposits a purse that probably costs your month’s salary on your desk with a clunk before sitting across from you, back straight not touching the back of the chair, and ankles crossed daintily.

Before you can open your mouth to greet her, Allison speaks up “Ms. Roadie, this meeting couldn’t have come at a better time. I have something of critical importance that I need to discuss with you.” With Allison, something of critical importance ranges from another mother’s lack of attendance at this week’s PTA meeting to a child suffering a severe allergic response due to them innocently sharing another student’s lunch so you’re not quite sure where she’s going with this. You wrack your brain, trying to remember if you’d received any emails from her or another parent that could help you identify what she’s about to share. Nothing, however, could prepare you for when the words leave her mouth. “We need to speak candidly about your relationship with Javy Machado.” You wait for the punchline as your stomach roils in response to the one-two punch of hearing Javy’s name from Allison’s lips. Anxiety starts to bubble up as your great rate picks up and fear starts clawing up your throat. You clasp your hands in your lap in anticipation of their incoming trembling. The swallow you try to force down is physically painful as you fight to keep your face neutral.

“Oh? Why so?” As you panic internally, you do your best to think about what Josie would do. She’d probably point out that your personal life has nothing to do with your professional life. Allison’s ruby-red lips purse together and her perfectly manicured nails clack on your desk as she leans in, face somber despite the intensity in her eyes.

“Ms. Roadie, I’m sure you’re aware, but if you aren’t, your boyfriend has a bit of a,” she pauses as if considering her words but you’re sure she rehearsed this interaction on her drive here, “reputation.” She gives you a pointed look. “And a rather poor one at that.”

Anger flares in your chest, the lick of its flames further boiling the butterflies in your stomach. You don’t recognize your voice when you speak. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Maybe it’s the fragility that comes with your anxiety but you’re furious. How dare Allison bring Javy into this? It was common knowledge among both the staff and the parents that Jeremy was more than a little cavalier in his personal life, and you’re sure he’d never had to deal with a meeting like this from the administration let alone a parent.

Allison looks surprised at your response, whether it’s faux or genuine you’re not sure. “But Ms. Roadie, of course, it is! Mr. Machado is a celebrity!” You grimace internally at the emphasis she puts on the word. “He’s a person of prominence, especially in the media! Imagine how that reflects on the school when one of its teachers is involved with him and so publically at that.” She speaks about it like you’ve been caught doing something illegal in public. The media has some photos of kisses at most as well as your attendance at some games, it’s hardly anything worthy of Allison’s reaction.

“Allison, I’m aware that my boyfriend is a public figure, but what I do in my personal life is none of your business, especially when it doesn’t involve or hinder my performance at my job.”

Allison raises an accusatory eyebrow. “Oh, but doesn’t it? Mr. Machado has visited this class at least twice that I’ve been here, maybe more.” Your stomach drops. She does have a point there.

You swallow painfully as you struggle to keep your ground. “Both instances involved days where parents and guardians were invited to attend and participate in class activities. For Octopus Soup Day, he participated as a volunteer the same as any other guest, and for Career Day I thought it would be a fun surprise for the students and a unique opportunity to learn about a career that otherwise wouldn’t have been represented at the event. He hasn’t visited any other classes. Neither of those are examples of unprofessional behavior.”

“Perhaps not in theory, but blatantly flirting with your partner in front of your students would be, would it not?” You feel your cheeks flame with heat as Allison’s accusations get more and more intrusive. Your stomach twists in guilt as you remember Javy feeding you octopus stew while your class was enjoying their food. Sure, you hadn’t been actively teaching at the time, but you’d still been working, so she wasn’t wrong. Your behavior had been unprofessional.

“I apologize for any behavior that seemed unprofessional, Allison.” The words are bitter on your tongue as you speak them. “I’ll take this into consideration and Mr. Machado will not be invited to future class events if you feel his presence is distracting to the students.” There, that should placate her enough so that you can change the subject back to the actual reason for this meeting. Allison clicks her tongue in what you hope is resignation. “Now, we’re going to shift this conversation to Penny since that’s the purpose of this meeting and I have a back-to-back schedule for the rest of the afternoon.”

***

Thankfully, Allison had allowed your change of topics to her daughter, and the rest of the meeting went off without a hitch. After she left you’d had to go straight into your next meeting, however, and by the time you’re finally done meeting with parents for the day, you’re exhausted mentally and emotionally. You hadn’t expected Allison to bring up Javy but if you’re honest, it had only been a matter of time until someone did. None of the other parents had brought up Javy at all for which you were thankful and hopefully, Allison would drop the topic now that you’d had a conversation about it.

You grab your stuff and prepare to leave for the day. The boys are in town for the next week until they leave on another road trip that will culminate in the game in Dallas. While part of you knows you should be speaking as much time with Javy as possible before he leaves, the conversation with Allison has you feeling odd. Unsubstantiated guilt gnaws at your stomach as you make your way to the parking lot. You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you’re taken completely by surprise when arms wrap around you, swinging you off the ground. “Hey Meep, how was your day?” You shriek in surprise, pushing against Javy so that he puts you down, laughing. “Sorry, sorry, I thought you saw me coming!” Your heart is racing and your eyes scan the parking lot around you, looking for parents that maybe haven’t left yet.

“Javy, what are you doing here?” You grimace internally at the accusation in your tone but your emotions are still on edge after your conversation with Allison. You see something in his eyes shift as he reaches a hand out to touch your arm.

“We got let out of practice early so I thought I’d surprise you. Roadie, you okay?” You swallow as your eyes make another scan of the parking lot and you fight the urge to shrug off his touch.

“Yeah, I’m just tired, sorry. I had a long day, and you scared me, but I’m okay.” His thumb swipes a soothing motion across your arm and you feel some of your nerves settling even as anxiety churns in your stomach.

“Josie said parent-teacher conferences are tough, so I figured you could use a pick me up. I was thinking maybe we could have a night in, maybe get some pizza and ice cream?” Your heart aches at Javy’s thoughtfulness.

“That sounds perfect.” He smiles and you feel some of your nerves ease as his expression relaxes.

“Come on, I’ll drive. And don’t worry about your car, I can drop you off tomorrow if you feel safe leaving your car here tonight.”

“Can you just drop me off on the way home tonight? I’ll drive it home from here.” Javy nods.

“That works, but I hope you don’t mind if I follow to make sure you get home safe.” You nod as Javy’s sweetness continues to untangle the jumble of nerves in your stomach.

You climb into the Landrover and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you crawl through San Diego traffic. The silence gives you a chance to relax and slowly you’re able to get yourself back to normal. Your brain moves on from Allison’s words to other things.

“Javy, can I ask you something?” Javy glances over to where you’ve leaned up against the window, letting the glass cool your skin.

“Sure thing, Meep, what’s up?”

“Why don’t you and Bradley get along?” You watch his eyebrows raise in surprise even as his lips purse slightly.

“It’s not that we don’t get along per se,” you give him a look that says you don’t believe a word of it. “What?”

“Javy, every time I go to a game I’m more worried that the two of you are going to get into a fight than I am that you’re going to fight someone on the other team.” Javy chuckles at that and you reach out to poke his arm and he turns to smirk at you.

“It’s that bad, huh? Don’t worry, Meep, I wouldn’t risk a penalty for that.” You poke him again, harder. “Ow! I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Look, do I get along with Bradley? Not really. I get that you’re supposed to be closer to your D partner but I’ve tried and he just won’t have it. Hell, even when he was sullen and hostile all the time, he was too busy being grumpy to consider that we could be self-destructive together.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” You suggest and Javy barks a laugh.

“Talk to him? The guy’s a stone wall. You try talking to Bradley, you’ll see what I mean.”

“I have and he’s actually quite the talker once you get him to open up.” Javy looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“You've talked to him? When?”

You shrug. “On family day, he needed my help corralling Taz.”

“So that’s where you were,” he mutters and you see something unreadable cross Javy’s face as his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“Javy… what is it?” You don’t particularly feel like having this conversation now, you’re exhausted, but you can’t stand the idea of something else wedging its way between you and Javy right now. “Nothing happened, we just talked.”

“I know. I wouldn’t accuse you of…,” Javy drags a hand down his face, “Shit. Roadie I just…” You reach over the console to place a reassuring hand on his knee.

“I’m here, take your time.” You whisper and he gives you a pained smile.

“It’s just…” he shakes his head. “Bradley’s a good guy, Roadie. He wasn’t always, but you didn’t know him then. He’s really cleaned up his act and now he’s like this perfect boyfriend. Zam’s always going on about how sweet and thoughtful he is, and I’m so happy for her, don’t get me wrong. She’s one of my best friends, she deserves the world and I’m glad Bradley gives it to her, but I just…” Javy pauses for a long moment like he has to force the words out. “I can’t be him. I try, but I just can’t. I’m always making mistakes, and I’m trying, I really am. I want to be better. I know what everyone thinks of me, and I try to make it look like I don’t care, but I do.”

“Jake’s my best friend, and he’s always been this perfect golden boy. He doesn’t seem capable of doing anything wrong. I’ve known him long enough to know that isn’t true, but overall, he’s a good person. I always felt like I couldn’t measure up. No matter how much I tried, I always came up short next to him. And it was tearing me up so much that I had to let it go, because I realized if I didn’t it was going to tear us apart and I couldn’t bear the idea of losing him. When he went to Dallas, as much as I resented him for leaving, I realized I could breathe again. I became more sure of myself and more confident in my abilities, but without him to challenge me, I got arrogant. I let my ego get in the way of my professional and personal life. You know, I used to be embarrassed about all my one-night stands? And then the more arrogant I got on the ice, the more I felt like I’d earned that privilege to be cavalier. I was good at my job so my actions outside of it didn’t have consequences.”

“When I came to San Diego, I was so excited to see Jake, to be playing on a team with him again. I wasn’t surprised when he made me an alternate captain because that’s how we’ve always been. We’re a great team, and we work well together. But while I’d grown past the part of myself that made me feel small when I played on the ice with him, I didn’t expect him to turn my moral compass on its head.” Javy lets out a dry laugh. “He was all grown up, ready to settle down. He bought a house, he had a dog, and then he got Bugs, and they became this perfect little family. Meanwhile, I was out every night with some girl whose name I didn’t even bother to know. And I didn’t let it bother me, because sure Jake was perfect but at least Bradley had baggage up to his eyeballs. I was playing with this guy who had anger issues that put the team in jeopardy every game but he had that same A on his chest as me. So surely, I wasn’t an imposter. And then Bradley had to go and get perfect too. He got with Zam and suddenly he was this great guy, thoughtful, sweet, and responsible, and everything changed. Suddenly both our captain and one of our alternate captains were these perfect guys, model players, and good role models to the other guys. And then there was me.”

“Honestly? Every day, I get closer to just telling Jake I can’t wear that A anymore. I didn’t earn it, and I haven’t worked to prove I deserve it either. And now we’re together, and I feel it even more. I don’t deserve you, and I wouldn’t blame you if you were more interested in a guy that has his shit together. It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do. I just… sometimes I just wonder why you even bother to put up with me.” The last line rushes out before Javy takes a heavy breath like he’s waiting for you to climb out of the car in stand-still traffic and walk back to your apartment. Instead, you squeeze his knee where your hand still rests.

“Have you ever considered, Javy? That maybe I don’t want someone perfect?” He turns to look at you and the surprise in his eyes breaks your heart. “I’m anxious. I’m anxious all the time, and I’m also human. I make mistakes all the time.” Your stomach twists as you hear Allison’s accusatory tone in your mind again. “And the only thing more anxiety-inducing than my own mistakes would be being with someone perfect.” You shrug. “Is it easy? No, of course not. But I’m not easy either.” You chuckle. “I mean you literally had to talk me down from a panic attack on our first date.” You give him a pointed look as you squeeze his knee again. “You’re not perfect? So what, neither am I, but we’re both aware of it and trying to get better and that’s what counts. We’ll work together. You said it yourself, Bradley wasn’t always perfect. I’m sure Zam didn't just snap her fingers to make him change overnight, as amusing as that would be. So if Bradley can do it, who says you can’t?” Javy brings a hand down off the wheel to lace his fingers with yours.

“And another thing,” you squeeze his hand, gently. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve been pretty perfect to me,” he gives you a skeptical look, “well, mostly perfect. I mean, just look at today. You could have gone home and enjoyed the rest of your day, but you came to pick me up because you thought I’d be tired after parent-teacher conferences. Even if you did want to spend the evening with me, you could have just texted and asked me to come over, but you knew I’d appreciate not having to drive. So even if you don’t see it, I do, and I appreciate it. I appreciate you.” Javy looks away and you think you catch light reflecting off the wetness in his eyes.

“Thank you, Roadie.” His voice is rough. “I think I really needed to hear that.” You squeeze his hand in yours before leaning across the console to rest your head on his shoulder.

“I really needed this too,” you whisper and Javy turns to press a kiss to your head. While you couldn’t shake the nerves that still bubbled under the surface from your conversation with Allison, Javy had managed to soothe most of your anxiety from the day. You’d have to talk to him about what had happened today eventually, but for today, you were content to bask in this moment of peace with your boyfriend.

A/N: Yikes, conflict is brewing, why can’t Allison just mind her own business…

[themilkiestbread]

I'm not sure how I didn't realize the gay lawyers in your bio were THE gay lawyers. Got any headcanons?

yep, Penis Wrong and Angsty McCravat themselves!!! as for headcanons, I'm still pretty new to the fandom, but I do have a few!!

they definitely give me the "idiot since birth/idiot in progress" vibes. like, at first miles is annoyed at phoenix's dumb 2am shower thought ramblings, but eventually it just develops into "if cows ruled the world would they drink human milk" "shut the fuck up wright I'm trying to--OH MY GOD WOULD THEY"

phoenix drags miles to theme parks. miles has a goal of making the most deadpan face at the camera right when the roller coaster drops. however, this has never worked because miles has never been on a roller coaster and screams like a small child every single time

on a similar note, phoenix is Really Fucking Good at those rigged carnival games. he wins a shit ton of stuffed animals, which he and miles set up on a special shelf in their living room, each with its own name and very complicated backstory

"who's the most scared watching horror movies?" both. they're both clutching each other under the blanket the moment the family enters the house. it's an endless cycle of "we can stop watching if you're scared, Edgeworth" "you're just saying that because YOU'RE scared" "well, are you scared?" "are YOU?" and then neither of them get any sleep that night

they go to Europe on a trip once for something idk. while there, phoenix will only call miles 'kilometers'

on that same trip, they swing by the von karma house in Germany to pick up one of miles' childhood things or something. while searching for it, they discover that manfred has a toupee by finding it in a drawer. they both lock eyes and agree to never discuss this Again.

phoenix and maya have a weekly "I'm dating a von karma sibling" support group where they gossip about all the 'lower class' things miles and franziska have no idea how to do, like "miles didn't know you were supposed to put water in ramen to boil it and blew up our microwave" and "franziska asked for valet parking when we went to the burger place and then almost took out her whip when the staff worker laughed at her"

the judge set them up because he was sick of all the pining

[oswildin]

Loki x You // Valentines Day Headcanons

avenger!loki au, established dating, featuring thor (he’s meddling aka wanting to knock some sense into these two idiots), lighthearted, humorous, don’t take this too seriously, it took on a life of its own lmao— I’m writing like it’s 2013 and ya’ll can’t stop meeee

they/them pronouns used

“It’s a farce! As if the mortals aren’t already making enough money with commercialising any and every little thing on their realm.”

“But it is the joyous celebration of love!”

“Sorry Thor, I agree with Loki on this one.”

“You do?” You nod. “Oh.” You frown. “What?” “Hm? Oh, nothing I’ve just remembered I’ve uh- got somewhere to be.”

Loki quickly stood from his seat, trying to leave the room as casually as possible, but it was clear to Thor and you that he was being anything but casual. Thor watched his brother for a moment, bewildered, before his gaze flickered back to you, seeing you simply shrugging as you continued making yourself some lunch.

The truth was, Loki was secretly expecting you to argue with him on his statement. He was expecting you to fight for Valentines Day and all its excess… Because he had something planned to surprise you.

His plan was to make you believe he didn’t care for it all (which before you, he didn’t) before surprising you with a romantic candlelit dinner with a dozen roses and one of those cheesy stuffed teddy bears holding a love heart.

However, now his plan seemed like a disaster.

Perhaps he had been reading too many romantic novels.

“You don’t think…” Thor trailed off, raising a curious brow. You furrowed your own, confused. “What?” “Well… You and Loki have been… courting. Do you think perhaps he had planned something?” “Thor, you heard him, he thinks it’s a farce.” “So do you!” “No, I don’t! I was just saying that because he did! I didn’t want him to feel bad for not doing anything!”

Thor wanted to knock some sense into you both with his hammer.

It was clear to him what had happened. He knew his brother. Whilst Loki may have pretended to be all aloof and unbothered, deep down he was a romantic. He still remembered when they were young and Loki had given Sif (and Fandral) a rare Asgardian flower to try and win their favour (albeit it was an illusion). (Also, Fandral had liked it, rather charmed whilst Sif had immediately called him out on it being an illusion… Oh, perhaps that’s why Loki had really cut her hair… Never mind, we’re getting off topic—)

So, Thor decided to meddle. As he often had done in the past with Loki. Although, his track record of success was… Ahem, not great, ahem.

“Brother! Whatever you are doing, stop at once!” Thor bellowed, barging into Loki’s quarters without warning. Loki stood with the teddy bear he had planned to give to you over the bin, muttering to himself about sentiment. His gaze snapped up at Thor, lips parting before he immediately hid the teddy bear behind his back.

“Thor! You oaf! What have I told you about knocking!” Loki exclaimed exasperated, glaring at his older brother.

“They only said they don’t believe in today because they thought you don’t believe in today!” Thor told Loki, sighing in his own exasperation. When did he become Cupid?

“Thor, it’s a Friday, I believe in the day-“

“Loki!” Thor cut off Loki’s smartass comment. “I know you have something planned. You may have changed since we were young, but you’re still a softie at heart.”

Loki bristled at that notion - clearly Thor had picked up such a word from the likes of Jane or Darcy. “I am not a ‘softie’, Thor. I’m a God. A God who has better things to do with his time than fret over a meaningless day that the mortals decided would represent how much they love their partners!” He huffed, finally throwing the bear into the bin.

Thor fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Loki, they want you to do something. They want to spend the evening with you.” He watched as Loki moved away from the small bin basket, sighing as he moved towards it. “Why must you always go on the defence?” Thor muttered, more to himself than Loki, as he reached down to grab the teddy bear, patting him off gently.

“Then why did they not say that?” Loki asked, irritated. “Why do they insist on not speaking plainly?”

“Because they didn’t want to make you feel guilty if you truly didn’t wish to celebrate.”

Loki paused at Thor’s explanation, his brows twitching faintly.

“Guilty?” He murmured quietly. “They… didn’t want to make me feel guilty…” He immediately sighed, realising that… yes, perhaps he had indeed acted a little… rash. He really needed to work on his fear of rejection.

“You see, brother?” Thor raised a brow, stepping closer as he held out the bear. “You both had good intentions. Even if you are both too stupid to realise it.”

Thor earned a glare for that last comment.

“Plus you didn’t exactly speak plainly either.”

Another glare.

Later that day, you headed into the common area, having misplaced your phone and assumed you had left it in there earlier. However, when you entered, before you could even process what was happening, the lights dimmed, candles lighting up on the dining table which was elegantly decorated.

Your brows furrowed, lips parting as you were about to speak, however, someone clearing their throat caught your attention, your gaze snapping to the sound.

“Surprise.” Loki said lightly, a little apprehensively, worried Thor had misunderstood your words or worse.

“But I thought-“

“That’s what I wanted you to think. However, I was thrown by your… shared distaste for the celebration.” He said lowly. “Nearly threw all of this out-“ He gestured towards the table, your eyes following as you noticed the roses and the teddy bear - as well as a nice bottle of red and two glasses, of course. “Before my… brute of a brother nearly tore my door off of its hinges and informed me that you had agreed simply to spare me the feelings of guilt.”

You blinked, lips still parted in surprise before your eyes met his again. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re right.” Loki nodded. “But… I… wanted to.” A pause. “Don’t get it twisted, I do still believe this whole day is a farce and I’m not convinced Cupid would entirely agree with what the mortals have turned his day into with cheap decor and overpriced—“ “Ahem.” “But, that’s beside the point. Or maybe that is the point.” Loki took a breath. “I suppose the point is… You make me… want to believe in it.”

A moment of silence fell between you, your gaze softening at his words. Loki shifted slightly, suddenly feeling a little… exposed.

“But uh-“ He cleared his throat, pulling his eyes away from you. “I, um, cooked.”

“And the kitchen is still standing?”

Loki sent you a look of exasperation, although there was amusement there. You gave a small smile, letting him know you were teasing.

“I am capable of cooking a meal without setting things on fire. Not everything I do ends in chaos.” “No? That’s a shame. Would’ve made for an entertaining Valentine’s Day story.”

Loki rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smirk from tugging at his lips.

“Ungrateful.” “Insufferable.”

AKA ‘I love you’.

BONUS: “So… What you said about not everything you do ends in chaos?” “Not another word.” *Camera pans to the dinner table charred and tattered because Loki managed to knock over the bottle of wine, going to clean it and in the process, knocked a candle over and set the tablecloth alight. The sprinklers went off, meaning everything - including the food and you and Loki - is drenched.*

BONUS BONUS: “Can I have my phone back now? Just incase I need to call the fire brigade.” Loki:

[cringe6fail6star6]

We all agree that next chapter comes out n MC must ask if the kid saw anyone opening the ark of covenant right? That they should be responsible adult and do something about it? Maybe look inside it just to make sure?

I heard a lot of theories about Minhyeok being like a fragment of God bc God wanted to always be near Solomon/Solomons descendants and stuff. Love the theory 100/100 kind of theory, love it.

But what they gonna do with the kid? Does the kid require devil energy? If not is there a substitute devils didn't know/didn't tell MC about? What if the kid is an angel in disguise? What if the kid doesn't understand devils language, or any beside Korean, so now MC needs to be translator for the kid? Sure devils can understand any language, but kid doesn't, so we should help him. I feel like they should go on shopping spree for kids clothing and stuff.

I just imagine a situation where they take the kid in until they figure out what to do and MC picks the kid up and just walks with him on their back. Kid is tired, if anyone in the party whines about it we should tell them off and to go pester Valefor for help. There's so many possibilities for cute dynamics and comedic situations!!!! Arghhh why the next chapter so far awayyyyyy.

Wait if the kid is Minhyeok how can we get human energy? Are we asking Minsyeok next? Find an alternative, that's for sure. What are the chances that when we see Solomon again, he just pops confetti at us with "Congrats on the kid!"? Pls it would be so funny. Grandpa is always happy seeing his grandkids no matter what generation.

The devils are fighting for MCs attention already, and then they see just some child getting all of it will probably feel like torture. But also consider! MC is a good(ish) parent to that random kid - means they'll be a good parent for the devils n their own kid. If we meet Asmo while this arc happening, H scene will be like 5 episodes, I'm sure of it.

MC humming a tune they heard from Mom Kim to the kid in the dead of night to lull him to sleep, bc nightmares with angels r horrible, n now they have to live with knowledge there's Foras humming the same tune when they're alone. I swear it feels like he's taunting us even tho he just thought it was cute. I just realized that Glasyabolas probably will tease the kid so much.

I'm sure Bimet might give the kid his phone, so he plays games while waiting for MC to be done with errands. Mini Minhyeok hiding behind Valefor every time he hears Glasyabolas or Orias coming closer awwwww. I think Barbatos probably knows how to make flower crowns and teaches him how to make it, too. Levi is conflicted, but he doesn't hang a child if he comes into his office without asking. Gamigin n kid playing tag before Gamigin trips over himself, getting laughed at, or worse, pitied by the child.

Kid napping in MC bed bc comfort and now MC has new phone wallpapers.

Omg the moment this thing is known all of hell is just "CHILD OF SOLOMON HAS A KID???" Oh, Lilith, the online forums about to come to life just to argue. MC gets phone call after phone call from devils they already met and a few more who just learned that. MC gets a headache, mini Minhyeok shows the drawing he was doing for the last 15 minutes while they were on a phone call and it's just him MC n maybe Solomon in the background with shitily spelt "grandpa" in korean. Cuteness aggression will kill me, I swear.

Imagine Orias attempting to draw shit like this to win a few affection points from MC n IT WORKS?? MC fawns over it and pets him on the head bc they think its cute no matter what he drew? Funnier if not and MC just stares at him like he's weird (he is). Still accept the drawing tho.

[pedripics]

Those who were once like Pedri do see something different: "He can play like Xavi, like Iniesta… and win the Ballon d'Or"

(via Relevo - February 14, 2025)

The Barcelona midfielder, analysed by great midfielders who see him with a magnificent present and future.

"He's a hybrid. He has things from Xavi, because he can play in the middle, also on the left wing, like Iniesta … Imagine what he'll be like with experience!" The phrase is from Luis Milla, who, like Pedri, arrived at FC Barcelona at 17, a club that he thanks for betting on "intelligence instead of physique", which gives opportunities to players who, at formative ages, have a harder time. "I don't know how far he'll go, but if he continues like this he'll eventually be a candidate for the Ballon d'Or," adds Julen Guerrero, that maned lion who dazzled a generation in the 90s with his goals for Athletic. "Individually, he has nothing to envy Iniesta," says Boniek, a fine Polish attacking midfielder, European champion for Juventus in the 80s. "He's very similar to Iniesta or Modric, he's a box to box," adds Maniche, the guardian of the Porto midfield of Mourinho, who won the Champions League. All of them, along with Trashorras, Valerón and Aleix García, speak to Relevo with knowledge of the subject of the total midfielder, the treasure that Barça and Spanish football have after Hansi Flick has found the right position and training for all his virtues to flourish.

To understand Pedri's full magnitude, it is necessary to travel back to his origins, to that small winger from Las Palmas, still a beardless player who was a dribbler who imagined things that only appeared in his head. There some of his abilities were born. "The first time I saw him was in a Las Palmas-Tenerife match. My son was at Tenerife. I had heard that there was a very good Canarian boy. As soon as you saw what he was doing, you could already predict a career at a high level," explains Milla, who remembers that "that day I spoke with José Mari Bakero, who was on the pitch, and we agreed." That formation as a winger, as a dribbler from the street school, gave Pedri some lessons that he can now exploit, even if he plays far from the goal. "What he learned makes it very easy for him to receive the ball and get out of uncomfortable situations when they mark you. If we look closely, Pedri always finds space and knows where to go. And he also has good dribbling skills," says Julen Guerrero.

"If you look closely, he always finds space and knows where to go." - Julen Guerrero (Former Athletic midfielder)

There is a common move that Pedri masters like few others and that brings him closer to Iniesta when it comes to receiving the ball under pressure. The Canary Islander, as if he were glued to the wing with a full-back on top of him as in his early days, is capable of intuiting what the defender will do, and of also deceiving with his waist, which is why one of his advantages is the "controls he does," Guerrero adds. "He has incredible ball control," adds Maniche.

"What surprises me the most is his ball control. He's always well-rounded. His first touch is always good. He can beat his opponent with control… because Pedri isn't a very fast player, nor does he do many tricks with the ball, or bicycle kicks, but simply with good control and profile he already beats you. He reminds me a lot of Iniesta. I don't like to compare, but when I see him, I see Iniesta reflected in him," adds Aleix García, a Spanish international and now at Bayer Leverkusen, who concludes: "We've all played in many positions in lower categories and in the end we've ended up where we did. But it may be that it helped him. Everything happens for a reason, but I think Pedri has something innate and has that quality within him that allows him to play in any position on the pitch."

The turning point with Flick: “You feel more comfortable playing at the back”

There is a before and after for Pedri after the 2021 Tokyo Games. The year in which he played 71 games, 53 of them as a starter, without having yet acquired the body of an elite athlete. From then on, the player did not abandon injuries. Coincidence or causality. The following season, he only participated in 26 games and the next two 41 and 40: this time, he has already accumulated 41 in the month of February, 36 of them as a starter. It is precisely after three years of light and dark, that Pedri once again experiences another turning point with the arrival of Hansi Flick for two reasons. The first, tactical, by moving back his position; the second, physical, by recovering an excellent state of form.

"I think that the situation of having him back closer to the pivot makes him come into play more, maybe he doesn't have as much attacking power to score goals, but he frees himself up a bit more and participates in the build-up. He is capable of arriving and providing assists, but I think that the situation of being closer to the ball's exit helps him more because he is more in touch with the game and can play more facing forward," reflects Roberto Trashorras, midfielder for FC Barcelona and Rayo Vallecano, mainly. Guerrero has the same opinion: "He feels comfortable coming off the ball, in areas where play is created. He finds space and overcomes lines," he comments, and adds: "There is less space up front, and you receive almost everything with your back to the ball. It is better for him to play in positions closer to the ball's exit, he feels at ease."

For Aleix García, Flick's change of position has served to show an unknown version of the footballer: "He is an incredible talent and this double pivot has given him something different and he is proving to be one of the best eight in the world." Another Canarian like him, Juan Carlos Valerón, also capable of giving that final pass and helping the play flow from behind, also agrees. "He is one of the best midfielders in the world. Right now he is in a form and at a level that, those who knew him, knew he could get to. I was with him when he signed for the youth team of UD Las Palmas, I spoke with him and I knew his abilities. In Barcelona, as is normal, he has needed time to be able to adapt to everything and have continuity and tranquility. He has already shown that he has football inside him, in his veins. Honestly, I am really enjoying him, his way of playing, everything he offers the spectator. It is a spectacle. The ceiling of this boy…"

Off-ball play is pure intelligence: “He wins duels without colliding”

Unlike players like Milla or Guardiola, Pedri is seen as a player with much more range but equally effective when it comes to channelling the game. "He is a player who, without being physically strong, is top technically, tactically very good and runs a lot of kilometres. He cannot contest the ball due to his condition, but he is intelligent, he has a good profile, and his characteristics are of the highest level. He proves those of us right who believe that in midfield the key is to be intelligent and have a special talent," muses Milla.

"He doesn't fight for the ball, but he is intelligent and proves right those of us who believe that the midfield is for talent" - Luis Milla (Former Real Madrid and FC Barcelona player)

Contrary to what it may seem, Pedri is a great defender. And as happens with players like Busquets, it is not because of his physique. The Barça midfielder could be seen in Ronald Koeman 's team , when Barça was disorganized and had to cover long distances, while in the National Team with Luis Enrique the game model accompanied him. He resolved situations because he knew what was going to happen a few tenths of a second before. The muscle was in his head. Something similar happens with Pedri. "People have an idea that Pedri is just about the ball, and it is true that he always chooses well and does not lose it, but on a defensive level he also manages to create technically advantageous situations: he retreats quickly, profiles, knows how to tackle and makes up for physical limitations with intelligence. He does not crash but wins duels in advance. He is very complete," adds Milla.

For this reason, Pedri must be in a dominant team, which plays together and far from the goal, to avoid situations close to the area, crosses or crowding of players and second plays. "He is one of the best in his position. He is intelligent in everything, good technically and tactically, he gives 100% balance to Barcelona," adds Boniek and Maniche agrees: "He recovers the ball very well and knows how to apply strong pressure when necessary. I like players with character and personality. He is very good with the ball and without the ball, he is very intelligent."

Between the lack of goals and injuries: “He needs to score to be perfect”

There is no such thing as a perfect player, although Pedri comes close. And there is always a but in all reflections. In the case of the Canary Islander, it is the goal, also minimized because now he is far from the goal. "What he perhaps lacks to take a step further is to score more goals. He can do it because he has second-line arrivals, but perhaps that is the issue he lacks because in ball recovery and duels, he has improved a lot and now he is one of the midfielders in the best form in Europe," explains Trashorras, something that unites him with Maniche: "He still has to score goals. He has arrivals, but he lacks goals to be perfect."

Pedri has scored four goals this season and in the 2022-23 campaign he has scored seven in the same number of games. These are not great numbers, and they have been reduced by the delay in his position, but it is true that the footballer steps into the area and appears in the second line, although that role of second striker is assumed more by Fermín López or Dani Olmo. With that characteristic and if he is left alone by injuries, Pedri becomes a clear candidate to win the Ballon d'Or in the future. "Yes, I see it. He is at an age with room for improvement, in a club that will relaunch him. He plays for the National Team, he will gain experience, stripes, background and he has it. Imagine with experience. The key is that he has injuries under control," reflects Milla.

For Julen Guerrero, it is not far-fetched either: "You never know where he will end up, but I see him as a candidate to be named best midfielder or aspiring to the Ballon d'Or, given his career, if he is spared from injuries, which is what has penalised him in recent years. If he maintains that level and is occasionally added to the goal, he will take another step forward." "It is a good question. It will depend on the titles, but he is in the right team," adds Boniek. "Well, my favourite historical player is David Silva for his quality, for the scope and for the magnitude of everything he achieved. Will he surpass Pedri Silva? It is difficult to know, but I am convinced that he will continue to be there giving this level," concludes Valerón, whom Pedri admired in those early days when he drew the player he is now, the most in-form midfielder in Europe and a future candidate for the Ballon d'Or.

[quiet-night-sky-writers-blog]

Bittersweet

Pairing: Marc Spector x fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: often events that are supposed to be joyful cause us to have ambivalent feelings. A small story about the bittersweet day of your and Marc's chuppah (Jewish wedding ceremony).

Warnings: Marc's being anxious, mention of mental health issues, tiny mention of sex, hurt/comfort.

Author's note: reader isn't necessarily Jewish, she can profess any religion or no religion at all. I have a headcanon that Marc is religious at heart and his origin is important to him, so reader might have agreed to have this ceremony for him.

━━━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You're standing in front of a large mirror, leisurely getting into your wedding dress. It's quite simple and modest, but very elegant - you're happy with your choice.

The sound of approaching footsteps makes you smile. Custom dictated that the bride and groom should spend some time apart before getting married, but you both didn't welcome the thought of separation:  you already were often away from each other when Marc went on missions that could sometimes last a whole week.

Feeling the weightless touch of his fingertips on your naked lower back, you close your eyes. Marc starts doing up the buttons of your dress; it turns out to be not so easy, because he's rather nervous - his trembling hands betray him, but he doesn't give up. When he finally manages his task, his gaze meets yours in the reflection.

You're stunningly beautiful, and in your shining eyes, which are looking at him now, there's so much love that his heart sinks.

- I still can't believe that today I'm marrying you, - he says barely audibly, - I'm a lucky son of a bitch.

- Well, - you purr, leaning your back against his chest; his strong arms wrap around your waist, - I'm marrying the best man in the world today, so I know exactly how you feel.

Your words put on his face one of those rare smiles you love so much, and you warmly smile back at him.

As you continue your preparations, you examine the contents of your jewellery box; out of the corner of your eye, you notice Marc lingering by the mirror, adjusting his kippah.

- Can't pin it properly... - he mumbles in response to your unspoken question.

- Will you let me help you? - you offer gingerly.

The man sits down on the edge of the bed. You find a pair of invisible hairpins and carefully attach the headdress to his hair.

- That's it, - you gently brushed a stray strand from his forehead and cradled his face in your warm palms. Marc, looking up at you, darkens a little again. Anxiety clutched at your throat.

- My love, what is it? - he shakes his head.

- Are you really sure? That... that you want this.

You sink down on his knee.

- I've never been so sure of anything. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, - after a little silence, you add, - I love you. You know that, right?

After a moment's hesitation, Marc nods. You gently press your lips to his.

You decided that you would confine yourself only to the ceremony in the synagogue. It wasn't that Marc insisted: this man would have granted any wish you had. But you knew that if you decided to have a lavish celebration with family and friends, he just wouldn't have anyone to invite. And, besides, large crowds made him almost physically uncomfortable.

Marc was deeply worried that you were losing something very important because of him, but in fact, you were not the least bit upset by this option - this day was to belong to just the two of you, and that was beautiful.

Finally it happens. You patiently wait while the ketubah, the marriage contract, is signed. Marc lowers the veil, that was previously pulled back, over your face; you know how much meaning there is in this seemingly simple gesture: it is as if he is promising to always protect and defend you from all the bad things in the world. In the synagogue courtyard, under the open sky, you stand under the chuppah. The rabbi pronounces a blessing over a glass of wine, from which each of the two of you takes a sip afterwards. Your almost-husband puts a ring on your index finger. The sheva brachot, the seven wedding blessings, are recited.

When the ceremony is over, you two have a brief moment of privacy in the designated room, where has been prepared a simple repast.

- Come here, - Marc exhales, dragging you along with him and closing the door. He cups your face with his palms and greedily kisses you.

- My love, - you whisper against his lips, - I realise there are no wedding vows here. I just want to tell you something.

Slightly pulling away, Marc intently looks into your eyes.

- I know you're not an ordinary person. And I know that sometimes you think you're hard to love. That you don't deserve anything good. But... I hope you know that, and I want you to remember that always. I love you. With all my heart. And loving you is as natural to me as breathing. I will always love you. Until my last sigh. I promise you that. You deserve the whole world. And every day of my life I will do my best to make you happy.

Marc is keeping silent, not moving and practically not breathing. He is trying to realise these words, to feel them, to accept them with every cell of his body, with every corner of his soul. You see the moisture glistening in the corners of his eyes, and your heart melts. You kiss him again.

When you get home, it's like Marc's going crazy. He kisses you fiercely, almost roughly, literally ripping your wedding dress off in spurts.

- I need you. Now, - he growls muffledly.

In the next moment you already find yourself in bed.

- I need you, - he repeats, his hot breath scorching your neck. Three of his fingers are already moving rhythmically inside you as his palm presses against your swollen clit. You arch your back and spread your legs wider.

- I'm here, - you moan, running your fingers through his pitch-black curls, - I'm yours.

He rarely fucks you really harshly; it's usually when his emotions are literally tearing him apart from the inside out, and he just needs to give them some kind of outlet. You know that. And, oddly enough, that's exactly what's happening right now.

An excruciatingly intense orgasm overtakes you embarrassingly quickly. Marc follows you, filling you to the brim, drops his head on your chest and stills, seeming to calm down at last.

Coming round a little, you affectionately stroke his shoulders and back. He lifts his head and meets your gaze.

- Are you okay? - you two ask in unison.

- I'm great, - you give him a warm smile, - and you? You were so nervous today...

Marc frowns.

- Damn... it's so obvious?

Of course it's obvious, but you don't want to upset him any worse.

- My love, I can feel you after all, - you answer softly.

In the middle of the night you wake up because you feel that Marc is no longer next to you.

He's sitting on the edge of the mattress, slouching and dropping his head. Snuggling against his strong, broad back, you kiss his shoulder.

- Hey... what is it?

- Bad dream.

Taking a deep breath, you finally ask him the question that's bothering you so much.

- Why is our wedding so stressful for you?

- Sorry... Just don't think... I don't...

- My love, - you stop him, - you don't need to apologise or make excuses for your feelings. I just want to understand.

Marc remains silent for a few moments, gathering his thoughts so he can produce something more coherent this time, and then he utters, trying to make his voice sound as calm as possible.

- I knew I wanted to be with you from the beginning. That I wanted you to be mine. I'm not scared of marriage, damn, I desired it more than anything in the world. I bought an engagement ring for you six months ago, and all this time I've dreamed of putting it on your finger. The only thing I'm terrified of is losing you. I'm afraid I'll screw up and you'll leave me. Afraid that something bad will happen to you and I won't be able to protect you. That's what happened in the dream. I... I couldn't…

Your heart clenches painfully in your chest. You know where his fears come from. You know how traumatised he is. At times like these, you feel his pain as your own, and you're overcome with despair at the realisation that there is little you can do to help, because you are not living in a fairy tale where love conquers all; you understand that someone so deeply wounded needs professional help to heal.

And yet love, your love is so necessary for him. And it's necessary for him to know that you won't leave him.

- There are things I could never forgive. Infidelity, abuse, or something else just as horrible. But I believe that nothing like that will ever happen in our relationship. And I believe that you will always protect me if the need arises. You are my shelter from all the adversity in this world. I feel so calm, so safe, when you are around... And I'm so grateful to you for that.

Marc turns his head and looks at you attentively.

- I'm here, Marc. I'm with you. And I'm not going anywhere.

He gently takes your hand in his and kisses the back of your palm.

- I love you so much... - he whispers; you hear the carefully concealed break in his voice, and you embrace him tighter, resting your head on his shoulder.

- I know, my love.

Silence envelops the two of you for a few moments, only the gusts of wind outside the window can be heard: it, as well as your husband, cannot calm down on this cloudy, chilly night.

- Will you be able to fall asleep now? - your fingertips stroke the back of his neck, burrowing into his thick, pitch-black curls and gently massaging his occiput - you know it relaxes him.

Clasping his eyes in pleasure, Marc keeps silent for a moment, and then sighs.

- I'll try.

━━━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━━━

Comments / reblogs are incredibly meaningful! Please support your content creators!🫶🏻

[muzzlemouths]

the counselors are fucking doomed holy shit lmao. this fandom really said but its the silly robot meow meow boys (i also voted kiss kiss fall in love with the meow meow boys im sorry)(SORRY TO THE COUNSELORS YALL WERE SO INTERESTING AND COMPELLING AND REAL)

THIS IS SOME DEVIL'S SACRAMENT ASS LINE.

[thegreatyin]

for the court record; i feel like the yearner would play games Very Differently than the scoundrel. she'd be really tricky and experimental for the first few rounds but after compartmentalizing the game as Just Another Thing That Won't Fix Her™ she completely changes her approach and just disinterestedly bulldozes through it in order to end it as quickly as possible. it's only after becoming the scoundrel that he goes back to his silly combo ways

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[kumakuma-circus]

just randomly remembered that during my like 10+ attempts at the shadow yukiko fight i more or less consistently ran out of revival beads so yosuke was just dead (well unconscious but whatever) on the ground for like half the fight gfhfjvhfhfhd-

[rivilu]

ok you know. the Ellu in dav crossover au is very fun but i am a little bit enchanted by the concept of him AND Rynn at once. Best of both worlds in a sense.

[gibbearish]

a weird little thing abt me is i will definitely mock shitty ai art but it never feels right doing it about the hands simply by virtue of the fact that a lot of them look indistinguishable from the hands i was doing years ago when i first got a drawing tablet

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

now that dumb ways to die is finally making a comeback, i need a compilation of rly stupid fire emblem gameplay deaths

[hardknifeplays]

Simon Riley spoiling his missus rotten.

sfw, fluff, soft!simon — reblogs & likes are appreciated.

This man, Simon Riley, will never let you buy cheap things. Even if the thing you want is good quality and highly functional, and buying it really helps you to 'press down the cost'.

"No," said the man quickly when you want to buy an affordable reading tablet, his eyes are still fixated on whatever document was on his laptop screen. Confused, you raised your brow while your hands folded on your chest. "Babe, I'm just using it for reading. That's all, nothing productivity-related." you explained more, but your husband just answered you with another low hum.

"Said no," he repeated flatly. Not knowing why did he just outright denied you of the decent tablet, you sat yourself down carefully on the edge of the table next to his laptop. "But why? I will use it just for reading, I repeat, my sir, just for reading. I'm not going to play games, or even text via the tablet. It is affordable enough." you argued, your hands moving around so expressively (mostly to convince him to agree with you).

Finally, his eyes darted and met yours lazily. He studied you from your head to your torso, then back to your eyes, before letting out a long exhale.

"You don't deserve cheap things," he sighed. You rolled your eyes, and quickly responded, "It's not cheap, Si, it's affordable. Why do I have to buy more expensive things if the cheaper ones are well-functioned already? Especially just for one purpose?" and you could see he responded by wiping his face with both of his hands, before he stood up from his seat and placing himself in front of you.

His swift movement made you looked up at him, the distance between your bodies was almost non-existent and you could feel his warmth radiating towards you. A fucking human furnace, this Manchester lad. He looked at you in the eyes, this time his brows down, looking rather concerned. He lifted his finger outlined your jaw lightly, his eyes trained on your lips before his dark brown iris shot you again with a more loving and gentle expression.

"Why are you always treating yourself this way? Denying yourself from something that you truly deserved," he began, "You don't deserve cheap things, mama. I can afford your every need." as he said so, his lips met yours softly, and you felt his finger tucked some strands of your hair to the back of your ears.

When he let go of the kiss, you returned him a kiss on each cheek. "I don't always need expensive things, Simon. As long as it works well, that would be enough. We can use the money for something else. Okay?" you reassured him once again. His eyes aimed down at the table for a few seconds, before getting back to you.

"You don't always need it, but I am willing to give it to you," he stated, staring right into your eyes for a few seconds longer.

You could feel your blood flushing all over your body, spreading tingling and warm sensation just by seeing the seriousness in his eyes. It made you feel cared for, and you know at this moment that this man would always give what's best for you. Your 'enough' would never convince him, if he could go further for you, he would.

He always would.

You let out a shaky sigh, and then you placed your finger on his chest pointing at him. "Okay, your money, your rules." you chirped playfully, and a grin bloomed at the lips of your husband as he scooped you from the table and pulled you into his embrace.

"That's my missus." he smiled into your hair, finally winning you over.

[missbrunettebarbie]

My hot take this January will apparently be that, while Barbie is a rather unremarkable movie with a gr8 aesthetic, some of the critics' choices regarding it are quite questionable. And people's responses to said choices are sooooo much worse.