#cos it feels like they've always been with me. in a way

[where-did-the-groove-go]

Hahahahaha it's too big for me to upload to tumblr as one image 😅

But anyway, here's my little tribute for my one-year Sparksversary! What a wild ride it’s been... joining in on the fun in the wake of The Sparks Brothers and Annette, and right in the midst of the 2022 tour—and already there’s been so much excitement for what’s next. 

Thank you, Ron and Russell, for the many hours of brilliant and joyous music in a back catalogue that I’m still exploring, for all the wonder and laughter and happy tears to be found in the Sparks universe, for being such role models to me as an artist and as a person. 

Thank you to all the wonderful fans I’ve met, for making this community such a special place, for the way you each share your love of Sparks, for keeping me sane by having others to talk to who understand Sparks in the same way as me. 

Shout out to a bunch of people who aren't on here: my ELO friends Horace, Lasttrain929, Timeblue, Vlog, and Uno are who I have to thank for having actually heard about Sparks before their recent resurgence (and making me assume they were a British band, lol); Roachie for unwittingly introducing me to their music nearly a year earlier than I thought, via one of their rarer collaborations, and consequently making me lose my shit when I realized it later; and Demurepisces whose incessant Sparksposting got me curious enough to finally check them out on my own.

I hope my art does more justice than my words do, because I could never describe how Sparks are so much more than just a band to me. They’re past, present, and future—I’m so glad that they’re true to themselves and tireless reinventors, that I enjoy the latest albums as much as any of the earlier ones. That nothing seems impossible when it comes to Sparks: such huge achievements for them lately, and a year ago I certainly never would’ve dreamed I’ll soon be travelling halfway across the world to see them at one of their largest venues ever. All that is wrapped up in the feelings I get when listening to Sparks—all that, and I’m looking forward to so, so much more. ✨💛

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

We are in the quarterfinals of the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Propaganda is not my own and is on a submission basis. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do! [editor's note: not Hungary; Audrey was involved with the Dutch resistance. Source.]

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

[comradeocean]

"I have found myself talking out loud to you, hoping you can hear me" is a bonkers way for a celebrity to begin a public memorial statement less than 24 hrs after the death happened by someone who has possibly not personally spoken to the dead person in question for almost ten years. I cannot stop thinking about it.

In 2013, Channel 4 did a documentary called Crazy About One Direction that featured a number of high octane waaaay out there fans. I think the band was asked about it during an interview; Louis and the others basically disavowed it, saying it was an unfair representation of girls who like One Direction and the fanbase in general. He wasn't being totally selfless in sticking up for the fans, because some of those girls were profoundly sad and lonely, maybe unwell. And if your mission is to be marketed as a fun-loving carefree boyband, the last thing you'd want to be associated with are young, maladjusted, friendless girls.

Anyway, at one point, one of the girls interviewed says:

Twitter is like a prayer place. When you go to a prayer place, you feel like you’re connected to God. So when you’re on twitter, you feel like you’re connected to 1D. You just have hope. [audio description alt-text: an image of Louis as Jesus Christ]

Zayn is also the only one of the boys to have crossposted his message to twitter.

The thing about One Direction being an accident, sure, a manufactured accident, but an accident nonetheless, is that they were guileless going in, and it showed. I've been mainlining old videos this week, trying to compare those early xfactor days with their contemporaries who were trying to break out around the same time. With everyone else, it was always a band full of Liams: intensely driven little freaks. Sorry, freak is maybe too mean a word to describe that particular mix of hunger and desperation to be accomplished, to be famous, and at the bottom of it all: to be liked. There's been a conscious shaping of the persona in service of those goals: they've learned to dance, to perform, to give pitches, soundbites, hit camera marks on cue. Most of them were also older, in their early to mid twenties. It's not inconceivable to imagine such a trajectory for the most diehard theatre kid you knew from school who decided after uni or whatever ~ to follow their dreams ~. That was the more typical boyband background. (not Liam though. lad was fourteen. he was closer to another subspecies of the genus: the child star)

And 1D in contrast were unpracticed, unstudied, as Zayn put it in that slightly off-kilter way of his (which I always imagine to be indicative of a disjunction between the vocabulary one encounters in school and what everyone around them is used to speaking), "novice children."

Like, truly, they did not give a fuck cos it hadn't yet occurred to them they were supposed to. Liam aside, industry norms were a complete mystery to them, and for many years, they managed to inhabit that sweet spot of flippancy without contempt, whether it was about the project, themselves, or their audience. Liam tells the story about being the go-between for xfactor stylists and the boys and getting into so much trouble on their behalf for wearing human-sized babygrows during a video diary. "Because Westlife would never wear those." [The punchline he then delivers is that Westlife members were pictured wearing onesies soon after. (quite possibly due to how viral anything 1D-related got)]

The boys were so immature. The whole boyband thing had fallen into their laps. They were just happy to be there! This thing that they didn't even know they wanted, they somehow got, and it took the shape of four other boys in exactly the same situation. It comes across very strongly how taken they were with themselves and each other. Find yourself a guy who looks at you the way blah Larry Stylinson blah blah Ziam blah blah blah. Never mind that cos they were all actually so hyped with each other. Any time any of them says anything remotely clever, or funny, or notable, the rest of them lose their shit like they're in on the same hilarious joke. Even if there was no actual joke. Their entire existence at that point was the joke bc how on earth had they landed from where they'd been — small deadend towns hollowing out from deindustrialization — to where they ended up — the xfactor house headed for the very top about to win it all, in the way they did — saved from bootcamp elimination at the last minute, with who they did — four other working class boys they would have never been friends with in another life. It must have been a high like a kind of limerence, like finding long lost family members on the exact same wavelength, like love.

And that was the other key thing about the stratospheric rise of One Direction. We didn't love One Direction only because we loved this or that member. We loved them because they loved each other, because they loved themselves, because they loved us. And they used the internet to show it.

In 2010, mass social media platforms were in their nascence, which is to say, the exploration of how to be a person, with other people, online, at a broad level not limited to specific subcultures, was in its nascence. For many years now, given the levels of extreme over-exposure, the dominant mood has become the mortifying ordeal of being perceived and so on. We've somehow all adopted mini-celebrity mindsets of our own, weary of being exposed to the maw of an unseen public. To be known is to be surveilled.

But the boys individually and at the collective level invited surveillance back then. Because the inverse — to be surveilled is to be known — seemed more relevant for that moment, at the beginning. They made a point of living their newfound lives at least partially online.

They were constantly on twitter, they livestreamed with a dedication that rivaled x-factor video producers, and none more so than Liam. It was already reality tv, this was just the next bleeding edge of "real": the unfiltered, unedited, direct sharing of yourself and what you loved in the last days of the old free-as-in-freedom internet.

When they said, over and over again, that it was all about the fans, it was meant in a very literal sense. Social media and the reality it created produced a feedback loop between the love they had for each other and the band, and the love we had for them, until it was inseparable: their relationships, our relationships, the process itself. Parasociality as it is currently manifested might have found its first mass expression through One Direction.

In separate interviews from This is Us (2013) deleted scenes, Liam and Louis say that Zayn wears his heart on his sleeve. Yet within the best-friends-slash-brothers-for-life schema cultivated as the One Direction vibe, he did not seem necessarily exceptional in his frequent declarations of love and fellow-feeling for various band mates. What he did ultimately end up doing was pulling the trigger on the contractual form their relationships were bound within, such that the I-love-you's inevitably passed from unpracticed to rote to a mandatory matter of their livelihoods. Someone had to be the first to explicitly and consciously decide that this "love" was no longer something they could continue participating in.

From the same set of deleted interview, in a somewhat fitting twist of symmetry, Louis and Zayn go on and on (much longer than Niall or Harry) about how Liam had been the serious and sensible one, but they've managed to corrupt him a little. It makes sense to assume that Zayn is referring to the band in general, but one can also read it to mean the two of them specifically, being the eldest, and their meta-cognition of the terms and conditions imposed by One Direction as a phenomenon.

The love the members of One Direction had for each other and the band and the fans was undeniably "real." The making of that "realness" was conditioned by the x factor throwing together four boys who had very little reference for what the fuck they had gotten themselves into, and Liam. Liam was the intermediary. He was already a creature twisted up and contorting, trying his level best to wedge himself into whatever spaces there could be found in the juggernaut of the entertainment industry. His neuroses and anxieties made the rest of One Direction possible, made One Direction "real" and "not like the other boybands" because that DNA, that what-not-to-do instruction manual could just be crammed into him, and the rest of them could be let loose into the world, unburdened by expectation, free to not give a fuck.

Louis and Zayn's raw, unpolished, typo-ridden letters were the most direct and irrefutable way they knew to swear fidelity to the boy they knew, the band they built, and the lives they lived together. The unfathomable ether of the internet, of the fans, of the massed publics seen and unseen made them, it destroyed their senses of self in ways they could weather until they couldn't, and it's into this ether they send their words, their grief, something real of themselves. Because in the universe of One Direction, this is the orthopraxis by which one proclaims one's faith and one's hopes. This is the prayer place that transcends distance, time, even death. This is how their brother could somehow, some way, still feel their love.

[charaznablescanontoyota]

"marn i missed sgdq 2024 what should i watch"

hi i decided i'm doing another one of these. it's been a minute. this past week was summer games done quick, an annual speedrunning marathon raising money for doctors without borders and also a great way to get into watching speedrunning. a lot of their content is tailored towards being both clearly explained and fun to watch for an audience outside the speedrun community, so you can jump in with basically no knowledge besides “this person is gonna play a game really fast”.

gdq has the full week's worth of vods up as a playlist on their channel, but here are some runs that i personally think you should check out:

ken griffy jr presents mlb by peanut butter the dog: look it's a dog playing baseball. i don't know what else to tell you.

the entire silly block: speedrunners get up way too early in the morning/late at night to play games that feel like a fever dream. some of the commentators are going on 24 hours of no sleep. it's brilliant. my personal highlights of what i've seen so far are stuart little 2, mad panic coaster, city bus simulator race, and the golf it wrong hole only race that the players dressed up as golfers for

alan wake 2 alan%: alan wake clips through walls and generally has a bad time while a bunch of gamers call him a sopping wet catboy. the runner for this one is really charismatic and it's very funny to see staff rushing to open up the pit as soon as we sing starts (yes they do the dance of course they do the dance). i just love joyful runs of horror games man

super mario 64 blindfolded randomizer: what if you played mario 64 blindfolded and also the stars were in completely random locations. and also you had to do it very very fast.

kingdom hearts 2 critical any%: every kh2 speedrun i've ever seen is a work of art and this one is no different. some of the boss fights go down so fast you will literally miss them if you look away for a minute. and also two of my favorite runners are on couch commentary!

balatro showcase: genuinely made me rethink how i'm playing some of the balatro decks. also great commentary and just fun all around despite (or perhaps partially because of) the absolute struggle session going on with plasma deck in the beginning

super mario world kaizo relay: kaizo is a shorthand term for a game hacked to its absolute limits of difficulty that often requires strict precision of movement and can punish the player for thinking they're smarter than it. in this segment, two teams of 4 very very good mario runners race to complete 8 kaizo levels they've never seen before in their lives

mario maker 2 troll level race: i always like the mario maker races for the same reason i like the kaizo relays. i love watching two speedrunners thrown blindly into the shit have to make up strategies on the fly via trial and error (and error, and error, and error, and...)

kirby air ride race: two high level kirby air ride speedrunners race for an actual physical title belt. the trash talk game happening here is of the insane variety that only two very skilled people who truly respect each others' talents at their game of choice can provide

kaizo mario galaxy: what if mario galaxy hated you even more than usual and would stop at nothing to kill you. also most of the commentators are only familiar with the vanilla game and their reactions to the added-in bullshit are hysterical

tony hawk pro skater 1, 2, 3, and 4: i fell asleep watching this and woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of a bunch of people singing superman by goldfinger. good run

super mario rpg remake: this was the finale block and it's just great to see a bunch of people who really really love the original mario rpg get to hang out and talk about how good it is and also watch a world record level player absolutely stunt on the game

halo 3 four-player co-op legendary: dudes rock

[xgraavyx]

I feel like a lot of people ignore Mariana's role in Sherlock and Co. I understand that the bond between Sherlock and Watson is a heavy focus in the original acd books, but Sherlock and Co is it's own thing. Mrs Hudson may not have played a large role in the books, but in Sherlock and Co she is one of the main characters. Ignoring her prominent role in their dynamic just so you can focus on Watson and Sherlock's dynamic is strange. You can still talk about their dynamic without ignoring one of the main characters. In Sherlock and Co I have always seen them all three as being like a family. Regardless of how you percieve their relationship, you cannot ignore the fact that Marianna is important to both of them. People shit on those who ship John and Mariana bc it "gets in the way of sherlock and watson" but that is such a stupid reason to hate a character. People can ship Watson with whoever they want. It isn't hurting anyone to have people ship him with Mariana.

Watson has a very lovely dymamic with both Sherlock and Mariana. I've seen people genuinely angry to see the podcast focus on Mariana and Watson for even a second. Sherlock and Watson have also had many one on one interactions. They've had a lot of focus on their dynamic and how it is built throughout the podcast. People being mad that Mariana also gets those growth opportunities despite her also being a main character is WILD. A man and woman can be platonic friends without being a threat to the "main ship" This reminds me of what happened to Mary in bbc sherlock. While I agree that Mary is a poorly written character, people give her way too much hate. Hating a character is fine, but hating a character just because she "gets in the way" of your ship is dumb. I don't like Mary in bbc sherlock. I think her being a spy was weird. Her death was only there to kickstart sherlock and watson's discord and I think that is a stupid reason to kill off a main character. It had no proper impact to the story and she only existed to contrast with Sherlock. Those are valid reason to hate her, but I don't just ignore her existance. She was still a part of the bbc sherlock canon regardless of how buchered her implimentation was. Mariana is a fun character and a lovely addition to sherlock and co. She has been given the same if not less focus than Sherlock and people still rarely include her in fan content. Yes Sherlock and Watson have a very interesting dynamic but I'd love to see more love for Marianna. She is a part of their family. Regarldess of if you see the dynamics between characters as romantic or platonic Marianna is still an important person to both Sherlock and Watson and I would love to see more of her. She is like the "straight man" of their dynamic. She handles the business aspect of their organization. She canonically eats with them at 221b very often. So much so that she doesn't even have a dining table in her flat. I love seeing different interpretations of her design. She is such a fun character and her personality flows very nicely with the others. Tldr I want to see more love for Mariana, and people who hate her unjustly get on my nerves lol. You can ship two characters without ignoring or hating on the girl character.

[infinizero]

Ok so

There is this trope about ghosts not reaching maturity until they've been ghosts for several centuries

There is ALSO the trope that ghosts fight as a sort of way to communicate

With the power of these two tropes combined-- I give you this strange headcanon:

Ghosts become mature adult ghosts after 500 years.

Danny and his usual troublemakers are all in the same "daycare".

He's just the youngest + most unique ghost so they like playing around with him the most. In other words, it's the ghost version of older siblings ordering their younger siblings around

As far as ghosts go,

There are blobs, ghost animals, shades (those are ghosts as we know it) and ghosts (aka Infinite Realms Beings) etc etc

The blobs and etc are, well, blobs and etc

But ghosts need a while to fully grow up and be considered adult

And so, if these ghosts are children, they need guardians or caretakers at the daycare right?

Correct

Baby ghosts are under the care of the nearest authority (Ancient or Leader or etc etc)

Except baby ghosts usually stay near where they were born and Danny and Co just so happen to be near Pariah Dark

Pariah Dark is asleep

But Fright Knight is there!

Except Fright Knight is also sealed

And it's one thing to wake up the ultra powerful megalomaniac tyrant kinda parent figure but not really you're supposed to have and another to drag your oldest adult sibling out of their room to touch grass

In other words, the surrounding authorities just went eh the babies can contact fright Knight if anything happens

But then Danny defeats Pariah and inherits his authority

So he technically becomes the caretaker of baby ghosts in the area while being the youngest baby ghost himself

Hence the other ancients visiting and *playing* with him to see if it's ok to leave the babies with this other baby

And since they're ghosts who don't have human guidelines or morals, decide that since he's that strong it should be fine to leave it alone

Besides he has Fright Knight! Good 'ol Frighty will definitely help out this new baby kid ghost with doing everything!

Meanwhile, Fright Knight waiting for Danny to come claim the crown and ring: ...

Cue Danny's rogues coming up to him to show him shit they accomplished

Youngblood : Phantom look at this cool baking soda volcano that spews out real lava!!

Danny: It does WHAT

Youngblood: Look!

Danny: NO

Ember: Hey Babybop wanna listen to the new song I wrote? It compels humans to start cults based on my name!

Danny: Ember, no

Ember: I think you mean Ember YES

Skulker: Ghost boy I have skinned an alien and brought you a pelt turned into a coat

Danny: ...you did WHAt

Skulker: It is nearing winter time and one must always be ready for winter time

Danny, having an existential meltdown after seeing his parents and Vlad get it on together: Desiree what the actual fuck??? Did you do????

Desiree: I merely fulfilled a wish

Johnny: Hey Phantom look we got matching tattoos to celebrate our anniversary!

Kitty: Wait what did you just say?

Johnny: uh, we got tattoos for our anniversary?

Kitty: ...our anniversary is in TWO MONTHS. THAT was for my DEATHDAY.

Johnny: ...oh shit

Danny, about to soup them both: Man, get good

Lunch Lady: Phantom have you eaten your proteins today?!

Danny: uh... Yeah?

Lunch Lady, already throwing meat at him: EAT MORE

Danny:

Box ghost: WITNESS! THE GREAT BOX MECHA!

Danny: oh come on seriously

And on the other hand,

Walker, dumping ten piles of paper in Danny's room: Phantom, here are the latest forms that need revisions

Spectra: What do you MEAN you're not allowing me to open a beauty salon in order to dig into other girls' insecurities and maintain my own beauty?! That's why it's called a beauty salon!!

Cujo and Wulf who are both the best boys and favorites, with smug faces:

Fright Knight still waiting for Danny to accept the ring and crown:

Plasmius: What the heck is this weird feeling my ghost side keeps making me feel??

Plasmius: is it... Is there perhaps a ghostly way I can adopt the little badger??

[alacants]

juanki & ferru: the lore

(or, why i am so abnormal about them.)

they've known each other since they were kids in valencia - juanki played youth tennis with ferru's older brother (who was a junior champion) and later ferru spent a year at the academy

"Even when we were little we played together… we have been friends since we were small."

they're self-described best friends + were joined at the hip on the circuit

tennis club unveils a statue of juanki in his hometown? ferru is there. ferru's family throws him a surprise birthday party? juanki is there. holding clinics. going on retreats. traveling to and from tournaments together. coordinating which tournaments they enter so they can travel to and from tournaments together. ← YES, REALLY.

in ferru's own words, "it's always better with him." ok.

they didn't actually play each other that often - their h2h is 7-2 in ferru's favor. they did famously meet in back to back finals in 2010 - appropriately, juanki won one and ferru won the other. :)

in 2009 juanki was called up to the davis cup team for the first time in 4 years. first he was supposed to be a reserve, then he was supposed to play a dead rubber. then fernando verdasco melted down, the fifth rubber became very live, and he ended up single-handedly saving the day and sending them to the sfs.

so when in the final ferru came back from 1-6 2-6 down to beat radek stepanek he immediately raced over to throw himself in juanki's arms, rip alberto costa who got in the way. then of course he dedicated the win to juanki.

the davis cup is just… a whole thing with both of them. so it's appropriate that now etc.

speaking of tournaments that are a whole thing with both of them. after juanki bought the rights to the valencia open, he invited ferru to share them. true love is (checks notes) co-parenting an atp 500 tournament

so when juanki decided to retire he chose valencia as his last tournament 

he went out in the first round. ferru won the entire tournament in his honor. <- they said it, not me.

immediately after ferru's match winner he ran over to find juanki in the stands for a hug so long i had to split it into two gifs

then he dedicated the title to juanki. ("Este triunfo forma parte de ti, te lo dedico exclusivamente para ti.")

they also entered for doubles and made it all the way to the semifinals despite the fact that they had never played a doubles match together before

after their first doubles match (and surprise win) there was a big farewell ceremony during which ferru gave a speech about how juanki was destined by the stars to play tennis and visibly fought back tears as juanki stared soulfully into his eyes.

they got married three months apart, which could mean nothing

when ferru retired in 2019 juanki wrote him a lengthy open letter about his feelings

and threw him a personal tribute celebration. you know, in addition to his actual retirement ceremony.

specifically he held a day long festival of ferru at the jcf academy that included, in decreasing order of normality:

exhibition match feat. some 16 year old kid named carlos alcaraz

juanki/ferru match

unveiling of Pista David Ferrer, aka the new name of center court (and the start of an academy tradition…)

presentation of a PORTRAIT PAINTING juanki SPECIALLY COMMISSIONED of their valencia 2012 embrace

i can actually barely look at it without getting severe secondhand embarrassment but the academy uploaded like a hundred photos to facebook

to this day when they play each other in legends events ferru is out there saying things like I JUST HOPE I CAN PLAY AS WELL AS YOU <3 never mind the aforementioned 7-2 h2h. this man is down just as bad as carlitos and it's been TWENTY YEARS

meanwhile ferru is constantly dropping by the academy for funsies. and in carlos' box. and at his practice. and that's BEFORE you get to the davis cup. 

in summary: what if the royal spanish tennis federation paid you to co-parent a grand slam winner with your boyfriend <3 that's what we call a happy ending!

[immoralkombat]

feeling(s)

Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.

Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.

Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.

The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.

Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")

He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.

Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.

After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"

Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."

Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.

It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.

The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.

He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.

He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.

Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.

"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.

Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.

"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."

If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.

"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."

The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.

He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.

Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.

"Could you get closer, Cage?"

"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"

The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.

"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."

Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.

Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)

His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.

"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."

Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.

He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.

If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.

As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.

"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."

That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.

His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"

Kenshi nods. "I do."

Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"

But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)

Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?

"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."

Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!

Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."

Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).

"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.

He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.

He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.

The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.

"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."

Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.

"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.

He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.

This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.

Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"

Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."

"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.

Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."

And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.

[joejhang]

why kevjean doesn't work.

i'm sad about it too but hear me out. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk.

look it makes me so sad to say it but kevjean does not work in this universe (i know, this also means it doesn't work, by extension, in any universe, considering jean is dead.) and i need y'all to hear me out on this. everyone theorising that kevjean will be the endgame ship in tsc i hate to break it to u all: not only does that not at all align with anything in canon, but it also would just be a really bad writing decision on nora's part.

LET ME EXPLAIN. jean's arc in tsc is first and foremost about healing. i think everything and every relationship jean has throughout the tsc trilogy has to lend itself towards that in some way, and ultimately has to resolve in jean being in a better place than he was at the beginning, and if not done healing, then being certain that one day he will be. (this is how jean is when he graduates from usc in the current canon ec).

following this line of thought, jean logically can't end up with kevin. and not just because it contradicts canon, because i fully believe nora is free to contradict any of the ec she wants in tsc, but because fundamentally, it would not aid in jean's healing arc.

i see the appeal, i really do. kevin and jean have insane lore, off the charts chemistry and tension and are actually extremely compatible. but that isn't enough in this case to justify an established relationship between the two of them that isn't in the past. (don't get me wrong i am a WHORE for past kevjean/kevjean situationship/unrequited kevjean it's all very yum).

i genuinely think getting into a relationship w kevin at this point in the story would hurt and hinder jean's healing arc. kevin, through no fault of his own, is so deeply entwined with jean's trauma and memories in evermore that he literally cannot be anything but a trigger and catalyst for bad memories and grief/anger in jean. y'all forget just how deep kevin's departure cut jean (not just physically), and jean hasn't even entirely worked things out with kevin yet. they have a lot of dirty laundry to air out, both between the two of them and their relationship as well as about neil and r*ko. people also forget that kevin and jean both played a role in each other's abuse. jean said himself that it destroyed him, how easy it was to fall into kevin's bystander role. they both were witnesses and bystanders to each other's abuse by r*ko or tetsuji. that doesn't mean it was their fault, and they literally could not have done anything to help or stop anything, but it doesn't mean it didn't have an affect on the other nonetheless. i feel like ppl r missing a lot of nuance in this context: kevin and jean's relationship has always been inherently tragic, even if it doesn't end with a fall out. they've always been each other's greatest friend in the worst places, and they've always been forced to witness the trauma done to both of them. they're bond is complicated, even if the love is there (which i think it is). i won't call it a trauma bond but i do think their bond is deeply influenced and intertwined with their shared trauma.

even if they did work thru everything, i honestly think jerejean is the only way to go here. nora has laid the groundwork for that mutual attraction and trust there in book one, and now we're just gonna have to see how it plays out. they may not be together properly until jean graduates, but i don't see a problem with that. i think, at the end of the day, it's not a matter of if it'll happen but when. jean needs jeremy (and cat + laila) right now, and there's a reason kevin chooses to send him to the sunshine court, and it's not just cos they're the only team worthy of jean's skill. "their kindness matters." kevin says, and it does. jeremy + the trojans innate kindness and care towards jean are what he needs to heal and grow out of the ravens' shadow. being with kevin i fear would jeopardise that. at the end of the day, kevin is too deeply rooted in jean's past, which is a veritable goldmine of trauma that, while does need to be acknowledged and talked about, does not need to be dug up again. this isn't jean or kevin's fault, just a fact.

i think nora's also made it pretty clear that kevjean (whether requited or not) is a thing of the past. the love was there, and it might've changed everything and it might've changed nothing, but the love was there. and maybe it still is. but things have changed, and they're both going their own way and i think it's really important to understand that.

side note: this is also part of the reason i'm not the biggest fan of thea and kevin's relationship. i'm not actually sure if they're all that good for each other, given how/where their relationship began and developed. i don't doubt they care for and love each other, but i just don't know if they're the best people for each other in terms of like...wellbeing. anyway does anyone have any good kevaaron fic recs???

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

save me SMG4 episode save me

(the following is my live reaction:)

moo-stache moo-stache moo-stache

why do I feel like Pedro's going to be here?

"bruh Pedro was just a one-time thing." they literally killed off Mickey, ANYTHING can happen

KAIZO YOU'RE BACK HI

OMG please tell me someone from the Team saw this fan animation and put it in the episode as a nod to the animator, that would be awesome!!!

btw great fan animation, go check it out if you haven't [link]

YAYYYY, c'mon Mario you gotta spend time with your brother :)

also I need to find a playthrough of this game while I work

whoops my hand slipped [*makes 4 say "I should've chosen the USB over you, 3"*] :)

Hey Shroomy :D ....oh *western spaghetti flashbacks*

like seriously, I can't hear that audio the same way again

helicopter helicopter (copter)

oh hey swag *he fades away* NOOOOOO

well, digging did (mostly, sorta) help the last episode

OMG HI HI HI MY SILLIES

Three, why are you here if you think it's stupid? unless... 🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

it's giving "I'm only here to support my boyfriend's interests", like I'm starting to believe that they truly are dating behind the scenes

they're on a date, your honor 💙💜

and there they go bickering again smh /affectionate

I'd like to think that ever since Four drives a forklift, that's just his method of transportation. screw the car, we're taking this baby out for a spin :)

Mario, you need to be ✨forklift certified✨

sorry, just Three's gayass poses give me life

actually yeah why is the line not moving?

the boys :)

also that walk animation tho

HOW LONG IS THIS LINE?!

also c'mon Three, show us your dance moves :D

oooooh that editing i love that

THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING

now that they've mentioned it, why are there so many conventions happening at the same time? hmmmmm *game theory theme starts playing*

SMG3: "Maybe they're lining up to go to your mom's house. That line's usually pretty long." DAYUM THREE

"the line doesn't end" ayo wtf????

shroomy, you've eaten mushrooms before and you had no problem with that

....it really is the end of the world huh

ONE WEEK LATER?!?!?!?

"there is no end" "the end will come" me, sitting in the corner: hmmmmmmmmm

whelp, it's confirmed, I kin Four now

Three's not going coo co crazy, he's just vibin' :)

THIS IS WARRRRRR

this whole fighting scene omg it's SO good!

....WOTFI? ok no :P

AWWW THAT WAS ACTUALLY SWEET DUDE

CAN WE PLEASE GET A HUG? FOR ME SPECIFICALLY?

.... yeah uh Boopkins, you're going to have to explain what the hell you mean by that

not that it's surprising, we've been through a lot. just another Tuesday (or Saturday in this case)

MY HEART CAN'T TAKE ALL THIS FLUFF

HUG HUG HUG

THAT'S MY BOYS

RAVE PARTY [*dances*]

....sonic, is that you? sorry, my mind is still in the sonadow generations phase so I can't unsee them

:O wait, Boopkins, what did you mean by that?

MARTY?!?!? WTF

SMG4: "Don't worry, Mario. There's one way we can fix this." Beat the shit out of him...? YEAH I KNEW IT HAHA

*explodes*

and congrats to samgagmincho for your art featured at the end credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

This was a fun episode, I loved it!! Seeing my boys is always a plus and I appreciate the return of some side characters. With how the world is right now, I really needed this episode. So, thanks Team, for keeping my spirits up.

I just enjoyed watching my silly little guys doing silly little adventures. Traffic is a nightmare so I don't blame Mario in the slightest. Anyway, 3 and 4, how was your date? /silly

Can we just talk about the animation? It was so good!!! You really see the quality they put in, especially in that fighting scene. I didn't expect MARTY of all people to be the cause of all this. I honestly thought it was going to be a gag of something harmless just being in the middle of the road for no reason (like a turtle or smth) and the Crew being like "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!" but NOPE, Marty was here and apparently A SORCERER?! I really shouldn't be surprised, what am I talking about here. And ofc the OG duo immediately beating the shit out of him is so fucking funny to me. He didn't die (I know that), but he's definitely going to be more relevant in the future.

...puzzlevision 2? ok I'm sorry

SMG4 show and jokes aside, I hope you all are ok. No matter what happens, we'll stick together. Don't give them the satisfaction that they want. You aren't alone, and we'll keep on fighting.

Going to be a Sonic fan here, Sonic 06 is famously known to be... augh. But there is a good moment with Shadow that I think is relevant now:

Mephiles (the villain of the game): "It's futile. The world will betray you. Why fight at all? Why risk your life for those who will persecute you later?" Shadow: "If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight like I always have."

Take care, my dear fellows, and I'll see you all in my next post!! Hmmm, there is "no end" [*game theory intro plays*]

[luxaofhesperides]

(I know it's not one word but...)

Harvest Moon!

The moment Duke heard about Smallville's Harvest Moon Festival, he knew he wanted to go with Danny. They've both been stuck in Gotham for a while and never get to leave as civilians. He's tired of most of their dates being crashed by crime and corruption, having to ditch meals out together to evacuate civilians and fight rogues who don't respect the sanctity of a day off.

Not this time, though!

Duke has the day off and a favor from Tim has him flying the Batplane out to Kansas with Danny in the co-pilot seat, humming along to the upbeat playlist they decided would accompany them on the flight. It does feel strange for the both of them to be in the Batplane as civilians instead of Signal and Phantom, but it's a nice change. 

He's sure that Bruce will scold him about using the Batplane for non-mission purposes, but Duke knows how to deal with him. All he has to do is accuse Bruce of not supporting his relationship and being homophobic, to which Bruce will reply that he's also bi, so how can he be homophobic? And then Duke and anyone else who's around will yell that Bruce is dodging the question and the man will get so tired he'll give up and leave. It's worked before, it'll work again.

"Why'd you wanna go to the festival, anyways?" Danny asks, breaking the comfortable silence that's settled between them.

Duke shrugs. "It sounded fun. And it's far from Gotham, so we won't have to worry about a rogue crashing our date again."

"Don't jinx us," Danny warns with a teasing grin, "Watch an alien warship come down just to prove you wrong."

"Don't put that out into the world! Today's our day off. If an alien warship does come down, the Supers can deal with it. I am going to have a fun night out with you and I'm not letting anything get in our way."

"How romantic," Danny say wryly, "Protecting our date. The fact that it's even gotten this bad is honestly ridiculous."

"I'm starting to think Gotham doesn't want us to date."

"Gotham can think whatever it wants. It's not going to keep me away from you."

"Sap."

"Says you!" Danny reaches over to lightly smack his arm and Duke grins, grabbing his hand to press a kiss against his palm just to watch Danny's face flush red.

They land a few minutes later in a field just behind the Kent's property. Duke makes sure the plane is cloaked, hidden from sight, before he descends with Danny. Kon waits for them, giving them a cheerful wave once they're on the ground.

"Good to see you," he greets, leading them to the Kent house. "We've got quite the spread prepared today!"

Duke blinks. "Oh, we were just going to chill until the festival started. You didn't need to include us in your dinner plans."

"If you think you can stop Ma from feeding you, you got another thing coming. Especially since she likes Danny so much." Kon winks at Danny. "Also, I made a banging sweet potato casserole and I need you two to compliment me on it, so you have to join us."

"Fair enough," Danny says. "Good thing we didn't eat before heading out, huh?"

Duke reaches out and takes Danny's hand in his. This is already looking to be better than all their other dates in Gotham. "Lucky us," he agrees, then tells Kon, "Thanks, man, for setting us up for this."

"No prob! I'm always happy to help out in the name of love. Also the festival is super fun and I need you to convince Tim to come by one of these days. If he's stuck in Gotham working on cases any longer, he's gonna start growing mushrooms outta his head."

"We'll make sure he stops by soon," Duke promises.

They emerge from the corn field to the picnic table behind the Kent house covered in a checkered table cloth and covered in a variety of dishes. The other members of the Kent family and members of Superman's side of the hero business are gathered around as well, chatting with relaxed smiles. Kon leaves them with a friendly slap on their backs and walks over to pick Jon up and toss him over his shoulder.

Sibling bickering fills the air. Danny leans against Duke with a soft smile.

"Thanks," he says quietly, the words just for the two of them. "For everything."

"I should be saying that to you," Duke returns, leaning in to kiss Danny's cheek. "C'mon, let's go enjoy our date night."

Yeah, they're definitely coming back next year. He'll even remember to bring one of his mom's favorite dishes to the Havrest Moon Dinner the Kent's host.

(send me a Halloween/autumn themed word and I'll write you a ghostlights drabble!)

[sandy-the-glader]

Hi!! If it’s okay, can I please request an Adrian Chase x soft and innocent!fem!reader where they are coworkers at Fennel Fields, him being a busboy, and she is a waitress. The two of them have feelings for each other, Adrian just trying to get the confidence to ask her out. A group of guys come in every week are super loud, rude, and also make Y/n (who is taking their order) very uncomfortable, and when Y/n turns down their advances, they say some very mean things and make her cry. Adrian is absolutely FUMING, literally having to hold himself back from going at them right then and there, instead following her to the kitchen try to calm her down (in his own Adrian way), promising to “take care of it” . She 100% thinks he means kicking them out, but the group of men get a “visit” from Vigilante… the group “disappears” without a trace “, never to bother Y/n again.

Adrian softly kissing a very relieved Y/n when the men don’t return to the restaurant, she doesn’t know about Adrian’s Vigilante side nor does she know the fate of the group of men, but Adrian takes it as a compliment nonetheless

The Protector

Character: Adrian Chase x InnocentFem!Reader

Type: Fluff/Comfort, Angst

Length: 2.7k words

Summary: Request above!

Trope: Best friends to lovers, Co-workers to lovers

A/N: I have not done anything for Adrian in a while and I love him so much aaaaaaa! I bent the request ever so slightly. Also, let me know if I should make a part two of this but it’s Adrian’s POV 😉

"God that group is back." I hissed. "How do they always manage to get seated in my section?" Me and Adrian eyed them from the kitchen.

"I don't know but they never tip well either. I think all the tattoo ink got into their brains or something." Adrian glared at the noisy group. I smiled at his joke. He always lightened the mood and I was forever thankful for that.

"God it's twenty minutes until closing why do they always come in here late?" I grumbled folding my arms.

The group was dreadful and I have no idea how they haven't gotten in any section but mine yet. They've been showing up the past 3 weeks on Saturday nights and past close. Me and Adrian had plans ruined because of those guys. I've been working here for 1 year and a half (Adrian for longer) and I've never had a worse group of customers.

Usually, the worst is an old lady who asks for the manager when the food isn't exactly to her liking. Or a group of teenage boys who don't buy anything they just sit there and be as loud as possible.

Sometimes me and Adrian went to see movies together on Fridays or had plans with friends and I loved it. That's what made me look forward to the end of the week but with this lousy group of 40-year-old biker guys trashing the tables and leaving sometimes a zero-dollar tip was starting to have the opposite effect on me.

"You know I can take the table for you. I know they're pretty shitty guys." He looked at me and I shook my head softly. His green eyes dazzling in the heat lamps made me almost take back rejecting the offer. When he looked at me the way he did it made my heart flutter. They were so careful and easy.

"You take over my shifts all the time Adrian. The least I can do is deal with one unpleasant table. I can do it." I looked back at him with determination. Besides he was only a busboy, not a waiter though I'm sure he could do the job just fine.

It was true though. Every time I was sick he took over no questions asked. Sometimes he even encouraged me to call out sick when all I had was a cough. He was my best friend after all but he always went above and beyond with the way he treated me.

Sure my other co-workers were nice like Taylor treated me nicely but never as nice as Adrian. From the get-go, he was kind to me always guiding me to where things were or making small talk with me to help get me though my shifts. He was never afraid to give me a hand in anything I needed.

He looked very unsure of my decision but he didn't protest as I left to deal with said table. Though I could still feel his eyes glued to my back. I pushed open the door and

I strode over there with a sudden burst of confidence. I could do it. Then when It's all over me and Adrian can go back to his apartment and watch movies all night like usual.

As soon as I reached the table that confidence slowly started to melt away.

They were a group of 5, all big-looking, and they were like I said a biker gang. Sometimes I hate my job.

"Hello I'm Y/n I'll be your server today can I get you any drinks to start with?" My hands trembled as they gripped the sides of my apron. Whistles filled the air as the men's eyes wandered across my body. Some even leaned over to get better looks at me.

"Looking good honey!" I laughed nervously trying to be as polite as I could to them.

I felt so incredibly uncomfortable. I felt my cheeks getting hot. I was even embarrassed to be close to them. I cleared my throat trying to get them to reply to the simple task at hand.

"Waters for all of us." What I was sure the group leader spoke out. "Please, baby." He added. His group let out an array of deep chuckles. I felt sweat start to appear on my skin. I smiled and walked off in the back. As soon as my backs were to them my smile vanished off my face.

Oh god, it's barely been 5 minutes with them and I already want to leave. Once I got back there Adrian was still standing in the same spot looking at me with a pleading look.

"Don't look at me with those eyes." Those pleading begging green eyes.

"You can still take my offer you know." He pressed his lips together. "Because you look like you need that help. It's not like a bad look or anything but you look kind of helpless. In a good way." Adrian rambled. I've known him for so long I could decipher any message he gave me.

"It's fine I can handle it," I said firmly. I wasn't going to let them get the better of me. Just seeing and having Adrian here made it better.

He was a complete nerd and I loved having someone like that. I loved hearing him talk about DND and all of his hobbies. Then I got to start doing it out of work too.

We even set up a DND campaign at one point. It was a little confusing at first but playing with him made me understand. The memories of us together made me way more relaxed.

I poured those glasses of water and put them all onto a tray and held it with one hand. I pushed the door open almost spilling them in the process and walked back to the table.

"There she is!" One of them shouted. I placed all of the glasses on the table without a word trying to keep my cool.

I watched some make extremely disgusting gestures. Just 20 more minutes and you can go home. Just 20 more long excruciating minutes.

"She's a beauty isn't she fellas?" The main one asked. I swallowed thickly not excited for their replies. I did not have the energy for this today.

"Oh definitely would talk her home. You single honey?" One of them eyed me.

"Uhm yes, I am I'm just not looking for anything like that right now." I lied trying to get him to understand the message.

"Nah she's lying they're always in the market." My feet wouldn't move. I felt scared. Uncomfortable. Where's Adrian? I shouldn't have taken this table. "Come give me a chance honey!" He begged. Can't this guy take a hint?

"No, thank you I'm sorry." I tried to stay as polite as possible. "What would you guys like to-" I was instantly cut off.

"It's not like her makeup hides much." They laughed. I felt ashamed to be here.

"And she could smile more. Where's our cute smile sweetie?" I couldn't smile to save my life. I would not give them what they wanted. My lips trembled.

"Nah her smile would be ugly too we can't ask for something she doesn't have." The table erupted in laughter.

"Look at her she's a doll. She could get any guy she wanted."

“Maybe she’s a slut. No wonder she's not in the market she just sleeps around!” Barked another.

I looked up to see Adrian cleaning some dishes from a couple tables in front of them.

He was looking at me because he had clearly heard that nasty remark. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked red with anger. He was seething and I could see his hand gripping the rag he was holding tightly.

Then the dam in my eyes broke. Tears started to brim my eyes and I stormed back into the kitchen quickly. As I left I heard them start to laugh louder. I shoved open the outside door and sat on the picnic bench we had out there.

I leaned my head in my hands and let the tears spill over my cheeks. I couldn't think about anything other than their words and how humiliated I felt. I felt like screaming at them but I just couldn't. That wasn't how I was.

Who did they think they were? Coming into our restaurant and treating me like shit for what reason? Do they have nothing better to do with their life?

I heard the door swing open and I tried to cover up my sniffling but it was no use. It slammed shut and I heard quick footsteps trot over to the bench. I already knew it was Adrian so I let him sit next to me. As soon as he put his arm around me it all came rushing back out.

"Hey hey, I'm right here." He whispered softly, I wrapped my arms around his back and in that moment he was all that mattered. I just wanted to have Adrian by my side. He awkwardly patted my back.

"Thank you." I wiped my cheeks which now had mascara smeared down them. "I'm a mess," I complained to him. He didn't say anything he just kept holding me. I knew he could struggle with comforting and with words in general sometimes. "You don't have to stay here you know. I'm already in trouble for abandoning my table i don't need you getting into it too." I frowned.

"Oh no, I'm staying." I snuggled myself into his side. "They don't deserve you. They're dicks who don't know how to treat women and that feels like a crime. They had no right to insult you like that." I nodded trying to listen to his words but I still felt shitty. "And that's like so not cool." He said and finally, a small smile spread across my face. He let out a built-up sigh of relief that I was starting to feel a bit better.

"I know. It still hurts though."

"No matter what those guys say they're so wrong." I looked up at him and he was already glancing at me. "You look so beautiful without makeup. I'm not saying you look bad with makeup on I mean like the complete opposite." I started to grin at his ranting.

"Thank you A. It means a lot." He enjoyed the small nickname. He continued to rub small circles into my back relaxing me.

"But those guys will never bother you again." He said still heated by the situation. "I'll make sure of it and because I really like you okay?" He confessed. "And seeing you hurt like that hurt me." he stared at the ground.

The confession threw me off. I always stressed about him liking me but hearing those words fall from his lips felt bewitching. I pulled away from him and looked at him eye to eye.

"Oh fuck I mean!" His cheeks grew pink. "Like I like having you as a friend not like in like I've been crushing on you since I've laid eyes on you and have been dreaming about you or anything because that would be like..." I leaned closer to him and brushed my thumb against his cheek. His face was warm and soft beneath my hand. "crazy." He whispered finishing his sentence.

"Don't lie to me right now Chase." I frowned. He sighed as he realized he'd been caught.

"Okay yeah, maybe I really like you." His eyes never once left me. "And maybe I have been dreaming about you since I first saw you."

"You better not be joking with me right now. Or I will continue to cry ."

"Okay um do not cry again please I already handled the first time poorly. But I am certainly not kidding." I moved my hand from his cheek to his hand which was much larger than mine.

"You better not be because I like you too." He blinked a few times trying to determine if I was the one joking around this time. He moved a stray piece of hair out of my face and tucked it neatly behind my ear. His eyes flickered down towards my lips and back up to my eyes. Was he really about to kiss me right now?

He swiftly closed the gap between us and captured my lips in a phenomenal kiss. Maybe he wasn't all nerdy after all because damn he knew how to kiss. Sure I have barely kissed anyone my whole life but he made it feel so right. He slowly pulled back to look at my face.

"Was that okay? If it wasn't I can totally like stop. I don't mind at all." I squeezed his hand and hugged him.

"It was perfect. Thank you." For having such a shitty night he made me realize the better. Like how the stars seemed to shine just a bit brighter than before and the moon was glowing just a little more than it just had. All because of Adrian

"How about I go deal with them and I also go grab our stuff since it's about time we clock out we have a fun relaxing night tonight?" He proposed.

"I would love nothing more."

"Good. Now you wait here!"

-

Once I got inside his apartment I immediately collapsed and melted into his couch with a loud dramatic sigh. He had probably the most comfortable apartment imaginable.

"Oh shit." I heard him hiss.

"What's wrong?"

"I was supposed to drop by the store after our shift to grab some things from the store..." He trailed off looking sheepish.

"Go ahead, Adrian. I know it will be all you talk about if you don't." He nodded before muttering a quick 'thank you' and leaving.

I had a really long day in general so as much as I wanted to I did not feel like waiting up for him. I left my work bag on the couch and wandered to his room.

His bookshelf overflowed with books and tabletop games, His bed was slightly messy from the morning, and it felt like him. I dug through his dresser to find this shirt that had a cool-looking dragon and a D20 on it. I took off my apron and work shirt and threw it on. I really hope he doesn't mind.

I threw my shoes somewhere on his floor and crumbled onto his bed. God his blankets were so soft.

-

It had been an hour before Adrian finally made his way home. He took off his mask and suit and tucked it away in the hall closet once he got home. He'd deal with all the blood later.

He walked through the hall and pushed open the door to see his best friend asleep on his bed in his shirt. He couldn't be happier to come home to this. She finally looked at ease snuggled beneath his covers.

Adrian scooted himself into his bed and joined her. He placed a small gentle kiss on her forehead and spooned her.

"They won't hurt you again." He whispered before allowing himself to drift off to sleep with her in his arms.

-

I waited afraid week after week to see that group come back but they never did. Nor the week after that or the next. I soon started to get curious about what Adrian meant when he said he'd "deal with them." Did he get the manager involved? Did he really have that strong effect on them? Maybe he even beat them up. He's too soft for that right?

Anyway, I was just happy to be with the one I've crushed on for so long. It felt good. Better than anything has ever been.

Tonight we were staying in on the couch while we waited for the popcorn to finish in the microwave of his apartment. The smell drifted through the room making me even more hungry than I was before.

"I'm glad they're gone." I looked up at him. His glasses glowed from the light of his phone.

"Me too. I hate seeing you upset." I leaned on his shoulder and my eyes wandered quickly over to his phone. Just a quick peek it wouldn't mean anything. He was texting Chris who according to him was his guy best friend. I had met him a few times for drinks after work and he was a pretty alright guy. I scanned the words and...

I finally got to use the chainsaw on those guys :)

What does that mean?

[girlcrushart]

Firmly in the "did not see that coming" camp, apparently Sydney Sweeney's tits have caused the end of wokeness? I'm being serious. That's actually a thing. Here's some actual quotes from in the internet. From the Spectator: "For anyone under the age of 25, they've likely never seen it in their lifetime—as the giggling blonde with an amazing rack has been stamped out of existence, a creature shamed to the brink of extinction." Like wtf? Has this person not ever been on the internet? Seen a movie? Or a TV show? Then there's this gem: "Wokeness is no match for Sydney Sweeney's undeniable beauty." A headline from a piece in the National Post! A Canadian publication! Written by a woman! What The Actual Fuck? I really had to do some deep dive research to even begin to understand how these things are related in any way. Unfortunately, what has happened is basically that the word woke no longer has any meaning. Which is sad. Because really, what being woke has always meant to me is being compassionate, understanding, open to other points of view. At the heart of it is the idea of just letting people be who they are. And you know, that includes gorgeous blondes with amazing racks. Sydney Sweeney knowing she has great tits and showing them off is... honestly... woke. Unfortunately, people opposed to the idea of basic human decency and allowing people to simply be themselves and live their lives in peace have co-opted the term to basically mean anything they don't like or that makes them feel bad for their horrible thoughts. And possibly they believe that thinking that Sydney Sweeney is hot because she has great boobs is somehow unacceptable? It's not btw. We all like Sydney's boobs. They're spectacular. You know, supporting the notion that someone is free to, say, express their own gender identity is a very woke pov. But like, dudes, that's literally what she's doing! We make room for that over here in the woke camp! You're non-binary and sometimes dress like a boy and other times like a girl and use they/them pronouns? Go ahead, you be you! You wanna wear a tiny dress that emphasizes your cleavage when you jump up and down with excitement? Go ahead, you be you! It's just as woke to defend Sydney Sweeney's right to show off her tits as it is to defend Hunter Schafer's to show off hers! That's kinda the whole point. Nice try, jerks, but Sydney's boobs didn't kill wokeness at all. You're weirdos and your stupid arguments get more and more bizarre every day. Today's girlcrushart guardian is Sydney Sweeney.

[chikai-k]

We Need A Break.

•| Kaveh X Male Reader, hints of Alhaitham X Kaveh

•| Notes: So angst with the characters as parents right? I haven't written in a long time and all so this might be a bit janky in terms of execution. I feel like the ending is a little awkward but it's whatever, I just wanted to get something out 😞 It was originally gonna be Aether since my debut was an Aether fic but I decided I wanted to add my bbg Kaveh to my list of characters hehe also wrote this at 3-4am :)

•| CW: Kaveh is the baby momma🤧, male reader, cheating accusations, arguments, break? divorce?

Here we go.

It's unhealthy to subject your daughter to this.

She doesn't deserve to hear your problems.

You and Kaveh have tried everything in your power to keep the issue away from her attention, to make sure she can't see the cracks forming.

How Kaveh would tuck her to bed, holding back a grimace as he spots the time. He tries his best to stall, she can tell. Kaveh doesn't want to leave her side. How his sweet voice would read her bed time stories as slowly as he could, sometimes staring at her with soft eyes as he presses a goodnight kiss on her forehead. She is his baby. He loves her with every part of his being.

She knows something's wrong. She could sense it before but you two can't keep quiet when the arguments get heated downstairs. She can hear you two from the floor. She can hear you throwing accusations, hear the crack in Kaveh's voice when he says he's not seeing his co worker—but you just won't drop it.

"I see the way you two look at each other." You say, "I see the way you guys give subtle touches." You know that they're probably texting each other about things to do when you're working. "The neighbours themselves have testified that they've seen Alhaitham enter our home when I'm at work for fucks sake! Stop lying to me." You growl, teeth baring at him as your face is flushed in anger, fist clenching by your side.

Kaveh hiccups and shakes his head, "Please, I'm telling you, we're not! Why won't you believe me?" His hand is gripping his wrist and is tucked close to his chest as if protecting himself. He doesn't know what went wrong.

"Then tell me why he's been visiting so much when I'm out! It's not like he's here for our daughter is he? She's always in school, so what else could he be here for?!"

"I—I can't—" Kaveh shook, how was he supposed to explain? He's not cheating, he swear but...

"Bullshit. You and that Alhaitham guy—ugh—" You inhale, your hand shooting up to brush your hair angrily. Tempted to slam it down the counter but you'd risk waking up your daughter from the noise. Hm.

Kaveh eyes your fist warily. He never knew you as physical so he wasn't worried—hoping he didn't need to but with how the tension was going, he was afraid he'd get hurt."What's so different about him and me? Is it the muscles? The income? The looks?" You seethed through your teeth, blindsided by the jealousy that you'd missed the way he stepped back cautiously. "Or did you just fall out of love for me? Or is he secretly our daughter's real father?" You huffed, closing your eyes as you tugged at your hair.

Usually, Kaveh would give you a massage, whisper sweet things and gently pull of your fingers from your hair out of concern. But how could he when he was...scared?

"N-no, I love you." Kaveh hiccuped once more, "I..." He bit his lip as he couldn't help the the tears from spilling. He couldn't bring himself to mean it. It felt forced, like he was saying it to survive and saying it felt wrong. I love you is supposed to be affectionate and meaningful, not like this.

"I think..." He sighs as he watches you gaze back, once furious expression softening in realisation at what he was about to say. "I think we need a break. To cool our head...I'm sorry." He struggles to finish, flinching as you attempt to approach him. Right now, he didn't know who you were. Actually, he hadn't know who you were for the past couple of months.

He just needs some space to breath, to find the words to tell you why Alhaitham had been visiting...

[random-fandom1984]

Hello! If it's okay to request Can you do the reactions/interactions of TF earthspark to a pod full of sparkling beans?

thank you!

Okay, let's do this!

(I also made a little headcannon about Elita-1, and it's been a while since I started watching the series so I don't know if it would seem like she would do that. I'm not doing the Terrans because I don't have the mental will to do them. And I'm only going to be doing ones that I can actually think of.)

Autobots:

Elita-1, Optimus and Megatron

I feel like if these three were put in charge of taking care of a rouge sparkling found in the woods, they would all co-parent. Elita is the mom, Optimus is the dad, and Megatron is the papa.

Optimus would obviously teach the little one what's right and wrong and would give them a light scolding if they did something bad. I mean, it's a sparkling, they have no awareness of what they're doing.

Elita-1 would teach the little one to fight in self-defense, and somehow actually works? Like, if one of Mandroid's bots tried to take the sparkling, the little one would body slam, the elbow, and all types of wrestling moves. Meanwhile, Optimus and Elita are in the corner, watching this go down. He turns to her and asks, "Did you have them watch W.W.E.?" Meanwhile, Elita just has a proud, smug smile, hands on her hip plates, proud of the little one.

And Megatron would teach the little one about morals and ideals. Considering that he was a warlord that hurt and killed many innocent lives, who is now a better person; he has experience going down a dark road and doesn't want them to come across it and go down that same path that will on bring pain and misery to not just everyone around them, but also themselves once they've acknowledged what they've done.

Bumblebee

Sorry, excuse me, older brother coming through-

He's a good older brother figure and is not afraid to admit it! He does gets annoyed when the Terrans, Mo, and Robby tease him for it.

He's very excited about what their alt-mode's gonna be. Maybe an ice cream truck!

When he sees the sparkling somehow fighting, he's kinda surprised before he recognizes those moves and his face turns into a -_- and asks, "Elita let them watch the W.W.E. again?"

Arcee

Cool aunt, all the way.

Will spoil the sparkling and teach the little one some moves other than the ones in the W.W.E. that Elita-1 let them watch. They need to learn real moves, such as martial arts!

She finds it cute how the little one wouldn't cry when they fall to the ground, but instead stubbornly get back up with some cute honks with a determined face, causing her to cover her smile and hold back laughing at how cute this is.

Will visit the Malto's frequently just for the little one.

Grimlock

I see him as the wise uncle.

He always gives out words of advice and they work, for example, Jawbreaker.

He'll be gentle with the little one but would be aggressive to those who intend to harm or use the sparkling for evil and/or greedy purposes. He does not want them to go through what he went through in the Bot Brawl in Philidelphia.

Doesn't really care about the sparkling biting him, he just sees it as the little one letting out their inner Dinobot, and it's not like it'll hurt him; he can barely feel it.

Wheeljack

The fresh-out-of-jail uncle because of his experiments.

I can see him more like his G1 version around the sparkling. So, if he's doing an experiment and the little one is around, make sure someone will nab the sparkling before it explodes in Wheeljack's face.

Had the things on the side of his head glow every time he speaks because the sparkling enjoys it.

Unknowingly a bad influence with the amount of times they watched him perform experiments only for them to blow up.

Decepticons

Soundwave

New sparkling acquired. Kids, you now have a younger-

Feels like this is a blessing from Primus because of what happened to Rumble. Because of that, he's overprotective of the sparkling, and so are the other Minicons: Frenzy, Laserbeak, Ravage.

He now has something to fill in the part of his spark that died with Rumble's death.

When the sparkling accidentally hurts themselves, Soundwave will feel a sense of guilt as he's trying to heal them up. He's supposed to protect them, but they ended up getting hurt and he feels like he should've done better. But if someone tries to hurt the sparkling, all hell breaks loose. Soundwave and his minicons will hunt down the person who hurt the little one and tear them a new one.

Shockwave

Isn't really emotionally attached at all.

He does take care of them, but will raise them to be strong because, to him, the weak should serve the strong, and he will not raise a weakling. He is also glad that the sparkling isn't a disgusting hybrid like the Terrans.

He would even perform experiments on the sparkling, such as chemical enhancements to make them stronger than the traitorous Megatron.

Would pull a Mother Gothel and manipulate the little one as they grow up that what he's doing is for the greater good and that they are the key to that future.

Tarantulas

Unlike Shockwave, he does get emotionally attached and cares for them like a parent should.

He doesn't want them to live in fear because of GHOST thinking that the sparkling is affiliated with him because he's considered a Decepticon, which is why he decided to make the hologram avatars so they can hide and be safe.

Gave, even made, some toys for the little one that will enhance parts of the processor so they can be an intelligent individual just like their Sire.

At the end of the Missed Connections episode, he gave them to Nightshade so then they would be out of GHOST's hands. Believing that he was captured by GHOST, I think that he would stay there for the sake of the one he considers his own. When in custody, he would never mention anything about his sparkling for their safety.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 18

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics, mentioning of pregnancy/babies, family planning, breeding kink* Flirting, sexy talk, nudity, tooth rotting fluff, Marcus has been getting buff. Summary: It's time for a White House wedding! Notes: Here it is, dears. The last chapter of Marcus Pike's soulmate story. Next week will be the epilogue, but I will be missing this beautiful family and all of its extensions like crazy. 😭😭 As always, please remember that the gif choice for each chapter does not reflect the appearance of the reader, only the tone of the chapter.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16 ~ Ch 17

After the rehearsal dinner, you had gone separate ways. For the sake of upholding a silly little tradition, Marcus had spent some time with his parents at their hotel before going home to have a night of personal reflection. You had gone with your siblings back to the White House residence for a sort of last hurrah sibling sleepover. Both Alex and June will be moving out of the residence this month to live with their soulmates, making your parents officially empty nesters. They've promised not to get teary about it, but you can't be sure that will hold for very long.

It's after a few hours of board games with your siblings – Alex policed the hell out of Junie when she tried to cheat, as usual – that you're climbing into the bathtub of your guest bedroom. Donna Pike had gifted you a little self-care basket for tonight with your favorite bubble bath, scented candle, face mask, and several other indulgent bits, but the missing piece of this bath is at the other end of a phone call. Once you're settled in, you dial Marcus's number and put your phone on speaker to set it on a stool next to the tub.

"Hey Hummingbird." Marcus's voice is warm and soft, happy to hear from you. He had known one of you would call the other, but he hadn't wanted to interrupt any activities that might have been going on. He knew everyone was having a game night. "How is your night going? Is it sad to say I already miss you?"

"If it's sad, then we're both sad." You chuckle quietly and shake your head, wishing he was beside you instead of on the phone. "Remind me why we agreed to sleeping apart tonight?"

"Something about 'tradition'." He scoffs playfully. "But I don't think that I can sneak into the White House." He laughs. "Something tells me that it wouldn't go over so well."

"You wouldn't have to sneak," you remind him. Calling him was the best decision you could have made under the circumstances. You're feeling more relaxed already. "The Secret Service loves you. You could drive right up to the place and they'd wave happily to see you."

"Only because they don't have to background check me." He jokes, hearing a small splash and smiling. "Are you in the bath?" He asks.

"Of course I am." Another laugh, from both of you this time, and you splash more loudly for him to hear. "Aren't you?"

"Not yet." He pouts, jumping up off the couch and grabbing his beer bottle to rush towards your shared bathroom. "Give me two minutes though and I will be."

"Your Mom made me a little bath basket." It's still the single sweetest gesture you can imagine from your mother-in-law. She must have poked around your bathroom last time she was here to find out your favorites. "I'm going to be so relaxed when I crawl into that giant bed."

"And cold." He chuckles, turning on the water and immediately starting to strip after he puts his own phone on speaker and sets it on the edge. "You always want to snuggle close when you want to warm up."

"I'm not sorry to tell you." The guiltless grin in your voice is obvious. "That that has less to do with warmth and more to do with the sexy naked man."

"Is that why we always end up having sex?" He chuckles quietly as he finishes stripping down to climb into the bath. "It's sneaky and I like it."

"It's not really sneaky," you defend half-heartedly. But both of you are laughing and it doesn't matter. "I just get so distracted by my naked fiancé. But I bet my naked husband will be even more distracting."

"Maybe." He groans as he starts to slips into the water and reaches for his phone again. "How was your game night? Did Junie try to cheat again?"

"Of course she did. For a girl who is so upright about pretty much anything else, she is a ruthless cheat when it comes to board games. I almost wish she'd take up poker and make us all a fortune." The soft groans and splashing sounds of Marcus climbing into your large, sunken bathtub make you smile all over again. "Comfy, handsome?"

"I am, but I have to admit...this tub is a little big without you in it with me." He reaches for his beer bottle and smiles as he remembers another time he was drinking the bath. "I guess I'll just have to imagine it like we did when I was in London the first time we took a bath together over the phone."

"Oh, I'm definitely imagining it." You lean back in the clawfoot tub you're in and reach for the face mask to really indulge. "I have to say, this tub is very definitely one person-sized. No hanky panky in the Lincoln bedroom's bathtub."

"I bet we could make it work." Marcus chuckles. "I can't believe you're staying in the Lincoln bedroom without me." He huffs playfully.

"Yeah? Mr. I'm getting ready for the wedding in the Oval Office?" Blowing a raspberry at him over the phone makes you laugh because you can perfectly picture the exact face he is making in response. "I can't believe you talked my mom into letting you do that. Talk about bragging rights."

He laughs, shrugging even if you aren't there to see it and wearing a smug grin. "It's going to make for one hell of a photo though." He brags.

"History books, baby," you hum as you apply the jelly-like face mask to your skin and sigh at the cool contrast to the hot water surrounding the rest of your body. "It's going to be in history books."

He hadn't really thought of it in those terms, but you're right. "You aren't getting cold feet, are you?" He asks, smirking slightly because he knows you are just as eager as he is for tomorrow. "It would be pretty embarrassing if you didn't show up when the wedding is in your parent's backyard."

"The only thing I'm going to have cold feet over is magazines and papers and the internet having their hands on our wedding photos." It is what it is. And you know that. If you truly had objected, you could have easily eloped, or elected to hold off on getting married until your mother is out of office. This is the way you're doing it and that's fine. "No, my love, I'll be there with bells on. Maybe even literally," you tease. "After all, I never told you what my something blue is."

"Are you going to tell me now, or do I have to wait to find out until tomorrow?" There is something so comforting in knowing that you are less than twenty-four hours away from being his wife.

"Oh no, you absolutely have to wait." A fact which makes you giggle mischievously. The shimmering blue nipple covers that will be safely tucked into your white shapewear are just for his eyes. Sydney had suggested tiny blue panties, but you wanted to do something a little more creative for Marcus.

“Evil.” He hisses, but there’s no heat behind his words. “I think you just want me to drag you out of the reception early.”

"The very idea that we wouldn't leave the reception early is laughable," you tease. "I've seen the suit you're wearing, baby. You're gonna look like a whole three-damn-course meal."

“And I haven’t even gotten a glimpse of your dress.” He pouts.

"Which is exactly how it's supposed to be. Tradition, remember?" The two of you had gone along with almost all of them. You did, however, opt out of the garter toss at tomorrow's reception. There will be none of that.

“Much to my dismay. I’m rethinking this tradition shit.” He huffs. “Not sleeping next to you when I’m not on another continent seems like a crime.”

"You'll get to see my dress in..." You glance up at the clock on the wall. "A little less than twenty-one hours."

“I know, I can’t wait.” It’s easy to admit, he’s looking forward to this. He has been for his entire life if he’s honest with himself. You are his soulmate.

"Me either." The broad grin on your face is audible, which only makes you smile even wider. "I love you so much."

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He hums quietly.

That particular sound is so comforting that you practically purr in response. "And I can't wait to be your wife."

“Mrs. Pike.” He coos softly. “Are you ready for all the annoying paperwork changes?”

"Oh, absolutely." Just because he can't see you nod doesn't mean you aren't doing it. "It's all already printed out, filled out, and sitting in a folder in the office at home. My dad promised to file it for me while we're on our honeymoon. I just have to sign everything and bring him the folder at Constance's birthday party."

He should have known. “You’re perfect.” He promises. “You are just….perfect.”

"I'm excited to be your wife." Something you always knew you would be able to say to the partner you chose to stay with forever. You just never imagined anyone as wonderful as Marcus.

“Twenty hours and thirteen minutes left.” He muses. “But now I’m thinking we should have had a morning wedding.”

"That would have been a good idea." It was an idea that was bandied about, but you had ultimately decided against it. Though you can't remember why at the moment.

“Yep. By lunchtime we could be back in our hotel room. Or back home.” Marcus smirks at the small sound of protest you give.

"I'm extremely excited that your parents aren't starting their housesitting until after our wedding night." Matthew and Donna will be taking care of your place, collecting your mail, watering your houseplants, and generally looking after things for the two weeks you're in Scotland. But tonight and tomorrow night they are staying in the inn so you can have some privacy for your wedding night.

“Yes. I would be very unhappy to have them sleeping right next door.” Marcus snorts. “Because they would hear things.”

"And your parents do not need to hear things." Especially not when Marcus gets you going and you can't keep your volume down. "Just like my parents do not need to hear things. And we will not need to hear things when our kids are grown."

“Our little girl is going to be a good girl.” He teases. You’ve had the conversation about when your children are older and are both on the same page. There’s not going to be separate rules for girls versus boys. That’s not fair.

"Need I remind you that you routinely call me a 'good girl' while fucking me into oblivion?" You laugh, though, knowing that this is very much a non-issue at the moment. "Good girl is a relative term."

Marcus chokes on the mouthful of beer he had been about to swallow. “No. No. Please don’t remind me of that.”

“Daddy and good girl can stay sexy for now.” Your laugh turns soft and you lean back in your bath again, imagining how red his face must be.

“You’re such a brat.” He growls, shaking his head. “Do you want me to spank you tomorrow?” The two of you have ventured into spanking and light bondage, finding it a fun new expansion of your sexual experience.

“Oh, I absolutely want you to spank me tomorrow. I thought that was a given.” And as much as the thought is tantalizing, you’ve already promised yourself you won’t masturbate yourself to sleep tonight. Somehow the idea of Lincoln’s ghost watching over that is too creepy.

“Already needy.” He teases, having snorted out loud when someone asked about traditional roles in marriage during the sit down interview. Both you and Marcus believe that traditional roles have to be fitted to modern times and there have been several private jokes about that.

“Always needy.” The correction doesn’t really mean anything, but you hum it softly like a coo in his ear.

“Fuck.” Marcus groans, loving when you drop your voice into that pitch. It makes him shiver and his already hard cock twitches. “You’re making it hard to keep my promise to myself.”

That actually has you laughing so hard that you snort and you pick up your phone with your dry hand to bring it closer. “Did you make a no masturbating promise to yourself, too?”

“Of course, because what is one night?” He asks sarcastically.

“One night is nothing,” you huff, giggling that you both had the same idea.

“And now you’re talking about me spanking you?” He growls, shaking his head. “Baby, you know what that does to me.”

“I believe the phrase ’Spank me, Daddy’ almost made you cum in your jeans last week.” A fact which you fully intend to exploit at a future date. At many future dates.

“Fuck.” He hisses, pressing his thighs together to apply slight pressure to his balls. “You’re not being nice. How would you like it if I didn’t let you cum tomorrow as punishment?”

“On our wedding night?” You laugh in utter disbelief, knowing he’s bluffing but finding it amusing that he’s trying. “You wouldn’t.”

He wouldn’t and both of you know it. “No.” He admits with a chuckle. “You’ve got me there.”

A soft, warm silence settles between you, and you look at your phone screen as tenderly as if it was his face. “We should get some sleep, my love,” you hum quietly. Even though you’d rather stay up and talk to him all night. There is a lot to do tomorrow.

“Do you want to go to sleep with the phone on, or should I let you go?” There have been a couple of times where you’ve slept with the phone still connected and he smiles as he remembers you snoring softly through the line.

“Are you going to tease me for snoring?” Like you can read his mind, you set the phone down again and start washing off the gently abrasive face mask.

Marcus laughs quietly. “No, I promise I won’t make fun of you.” He swears. “I think it’s cute.”

“You snore too, ya know,” you huff. But there’s no heat in it. Just soft affection from and for you both.

“I know. You don’t think I know that? With this nose?” He jokes, laughing at himself.

“I love your nose.” And if he were here with you, you would kiss it to make your point. The number of kisses you’ve left on the prominent, proud bridge is numerous. “I hope all our babies look exactly like you.”

“God no.” He groans. “I don’t want that. I would not look good as a girl.”

"Pike genetics are full-proof," you counter, washing off the last of your face mask and lifting yourself out of the bath carefully so as not to splash too much water. "All of your cousins are fantastic looking. I have no concerns for our kids."

He grumbles, unable to really articulate a rebuttal when it’s the truth that his cousins are all attractive. “I want our kids to look like you.” He murmurs.

"For better or for worse, I don't think we get to pick." Your bathrobe is nearby, and you slip it on to stay warm as you climb out of the bath. Marcus does have a point. You're always cold after a nice hot bath.

He sighs softly and smiles as he finishes his beer and hits the drain for the tub. “I hear they have those 3D ultrasounds now. Where you get a clearer picture of the baby? You think you would want to do that?”

"I'm on board if you are." The sound of both tubs draining in unison takes over for a few seconds but you step away from the tub to dry off and moisturize. "It might be kind of weird at first, but seeing more of the baby doesn't sound like a bad thing."

“Did you take a test tonight?” It’s silly but he had shoved a test into your bag in case. It’s still way too early, but he’s excited.

"I had my period less than two weeks ago," you remind him, although you grin at the idea and look over to see the small, wrapped test sticking out of your overnight bag. "It would be way too soon to show up on a test."

“Yeah.” He exhales in disappointment and sighs at his impatience. “Damnit.”

"Do you want me to keep taking tests during our honeymoon?" The lotion that Donna packed in your bath basket is the same scent as the bubble bath was and the whole bathroom smells perfumed and beautiful. "Or do you want to hold off until we get home again?"

“That’s up to you.” He doesn’t want you to feel pressured or have it take away from the trip.

"I think..." Once you're dry, moisturized, and wrapped up again, you pick up your phone to go back into the bedroom you'll be sleeping in tonight. "I honestly think if we test negative on our honeymoon it will upset us both. And we'll pretend not to be upset, which will make one or both of us pouty. Let's leave the tests at home, love."

“Agreed.” Marcus easily accepts that. “I don’t want anything but for us to enjoy our trip and not worry about anything. Not even your uterus.” He snorts. “Except when it comes to making sure it’s filled up.”

You hum in agreement. "And that is not a worry, it's a pleasure."

“Yes it is.” He agrees, wrapping the towel around his waist and padding into the bedroom to crawl into an empty bed. Hating how you aren’t waiting for cuddles already.

The sound of him getting into bed is comfortable and familiar, though you wish the mattress beside you was dipping with his weight. Unable to stifle a yawn, you clap your hand over your mouth to cover the sound and ask, “What time are you getting here tomorrow?”

“I’m just going to pretend like you don’t know I’m going to be there as soon as I can.” Marcus laughs. “Is there anything you need me to bring? Anything you’ve forgotten?”

“Just my husband.” Words that will be perfectly true in less than twenty hours. “I was very silly to leave him behind tonight.”

“Yes you were.” Marcus teases, folding his hand behind his head and laying with the phone on his chest. “Don’t worry, he won’t let you leave him behind again for a very long time.”

“Never.” You promise him without hesitation. “I’m never going to be that foolish ever again.”

“Are you curled up under the blankets?” He asks softly, imagining your nightly routine since he’s seen it enough.

“Mmhmm.” The stack of plush pillows doesn’t quite make up for his absence, though, so you tease. “It doesn’t smell like you. I might have to count sheep or something to get that rhythmic snore going for you to fall asleep to.”

“I just imagine you sprawled out here on my chest.” He admits. “Cold feet on my legs.”

“Cold feet, warm heart,” you tell him with a drowsy giggle, though that isn’t quite the traditional saying.

“The warmest heart imaginable.” Marcus agrees, knowing you are getting tired. “I love you, sweetheart. Close your eyes, I’m still right here.”

“I love you.” You have from the beginning, you came to terms with that a long time ago. And by this time tomorrow, you’ll be his wife. It’s almost the day you’ve been working so hard for, and you can’t wait.

Marcus is up early, his sleep is brief, but he feels rested. Energized because the day that has been planned for so long is here. He’s going to marry you. The phone is still connected and he smiles when he hears you start to stir.

It probably shouldn’t surprise you at all to wake up and find the call to Marcus still connected, but you smile sleepily and hum when your eyes fully open to show you how many hours you and your soulmate have been on the phone together just sleeping. “Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning.” He smiles as he sips on his coffee. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmmm…” Another hum, but this one comes with a small grumble as you stretch and sit up in bed. “How long have you been awake?”

He snorts. “Two hours.” He admits, grinning when you huff in annoyance at him not waking you. “I couldn’t sleep anymore knowing that today is the day.”

“Our kids are going to be early risers like you, aren’t they?” You grumble in a playfully accusatory tone. “I tossed and turned all night because I was impatient for today.”

“I just kept waking up and looking at the clock.” Marcus admits. “I’m excited. Must be something interesting happening today.”

“Must be.” Before you can say more, a soft knock on your door announces that the day has officially begun. “That’s my wake up call,” you tell him, and the energy in your voice lightens noticeably. “I love you, Marcus Pike. Get your cute butt over here so we can at least be in the same building again.”

“Do you want to exchange gifts before you need to get dressed?” He asks. “Or wait until we are alone tonight?”

“Let’s save it for tonight.” His technically doesn’t exist yet, for that matter, but you’ll be able to explain better at the house. The shed that you’re having built for him behind the house will be whatever he wants it to be, but when you return for Scotland it will be filled with paints, tools, other accoutrements of whatever hobbies he is enjoying at the time – and enough space for kids or a dog to come and visit him.

“That works for me.” He chuckles quietly. “Just needed to make sure I was going to bring it or leave it.”

“It can be a sweet, private moment,” you suggest, and giggle quietly when the knocking outside comes again and more loudly. “Right before you put a baby in me.”

“Birdie.” The nickname is growled out, his thoughts immediately on peeling you out of your dress.

“Love you, baby, see you later!” You cackle into the phone, making a smacking kiss sound before hanging up and jumping out of bed to throw your robe on over your nightgown. “I’m up!”

The door is thrown open and Junie, Sydney and Selena flood the room with happy squeals. Sydney carrying coffee cups which she picked up on her way to the White House. “Happy wedding day!!!!!”

“Ohhhh, thank you loves!” The cup from your favorite coffee shop even says the same, with hearts and well wishes written out by the baristas this morning — which only attests to how often you go there and how well they know you. “Everybody feeling bright eyed and bushy tailed?”

“We have been waiting until a reasonably decent hour. What are you still doing in bed?” Selena huffs. “I know Marcus has been up since before dawn.”

“Your cousin is well known for his ridiculously early rising.” You huff, with a teasing roll of your eyes. “I tossed and turned all night. Thank god nerves don’t make me nauseous because I am very excited for food tonight.” The grin you toss at the other three is devilish. “Along with other things.”

“I don’t want to hear about that.” Selena shoves her fingers into her ears playfully.

“She acts like I haven’t been fucking her cousin practically every day since we got together,” you snort, sipping the coffee Sydney brought you.

“La la la. I can’t hear you.” She singsongs playfully before she shoots you a grin. “How does it feel to be hours away from being Mrs. Marcus Pike?”

“And how is Clark Kent stacking up to the task of being a Pike soulmate?” Sydney asks, knowing full well that the teasing is a mandatory topic this morning.

All of you giggle at the way conversations are rapid fire and merging. Everyone boisterous and playful. “He’s amazing. Especially when he takes off the glasses.” Selena teases, shooting finger guns back at Syd. “Now…Mrs. Almost Pike?”

"I'm going to become a Victorian lady and only respond to Mrs. Pike for at least the next month," you inform them with an unrepentant grin. "Just so you know."

“As you should.” Junie snorts. “You’ve waited a whole year for this day.” Making sure that she doesn’t spill her own coffee, she flops down on the bed with you. “Ready to get pretty?”

“We are all already ravishing.” Holding up your paper coffee cup, you tap it against Junie’s, Sydney’s, and Selena’s in salute. “But it will be fun to play dress up.”

“The dress is already out. Mom had the protection detail bring it in.” Junie cackles. “The Secret Service was protecting your wedding dress!”

“Our wedding dress,” you remind your sister, reaching out to gently tap her nose like you’re punctuating a point. The alterations had gone perfectly, of course, and Alex’s vest will be stunning when he marries David next year.

“Right now, it’s your wedding dress.” She counters with a grin. “And mom has ordered another box to have it preserved in for after the dry cleaning.” She wrinkles her nose. “Because I know you are going to have sex while wearing the dress. That has to be some kind of fantasy for you two.”

You really can’t help it, you just sort of snort and burst out into giggles at the genuinely disbelieving and slightly horrified expression in June’s face. “I promise I will take it off first,” you assure her when you can breathe again. “That’s the dress you and I and maybe even our kids will get married in, I promise not to have sex while I’m still wearing it.”

“I don’t believe you.” She huffs, grinning at herself and taking another sip of her coffee. “I don’t believe you at all. Not when Marcus is going to want to throw you over his shoulder immediately.”

“Oh he’s definitely going to want to.” There’s no denying that. June has a point, it’s practically a kink for Marcus to see you do anything wedding related. “But the dress is an heirloom. We’re not taking any chances with it.”

Junie snorts and Syd grins. “Hey….don’t knock it.” She warns your younger sibling. “You might change your mind about wedding dress sex when it comes time for you to dance with the incredibly sexy soulmate you’ve just pledged to spend your life with.” She grins. “Wearing a tux.” That makes Junie bite her bottom lip and bury her face behind her drink as her brain suddenly completely flips.

“I think we hit a nerve,” you giggle, on the absolute verge of delight to see Junie just as flustered as can be.

“Shut up.” She huffs and rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning when you all cackle at her. “This is your day. Not mine.”

“Sure is.” A reminder which has you bouncing up out of bed and stretching delightedly. The sun is shining, the day is young, and soon enough Marcus and the boys will be downstairs getting ready, too. “Which is why I get to tease you with this big bright smile on my face.”

“So I…made you something.” Junie admits, looking slightly embarrassed as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out some hair combs. Some of the extra beading that had come from the extra material of the wedding dress had been too good to waste and she had also made a tie clasp for Alex.

“Oh my god, June.” The gasp from your lips comes all the way up from the pit of your stomach, as your sister pulls out a piece of cloth tied up in ribbon like she’s walked straight out of a Jane Austen novel to give it to you. “Honey, you didn’t have to do anything, but thank you.” She’s always been a bit craftier than you or Alex. Good with her hands. With visualizing a project and executing it well even when things inevitably weren’t perfect somewhere in the middle. When you take the little parcel from her and unwrap it, tears spring to your eyes almost immediately. “Junie…” The two little hair combs are perfect, and of course she would know that since she sat with you during your hair and makeup trial a mere two weeks ago. “They’re beautiful honey. You made these yourself?”

“Yeah.” She smiles softly, happy you like them, even if you’ve never been the type to dismiss the thought behind any gift. “There was extra material from the dress that couldn’t be used, but the beads were too gorgeous to let go to waste.”

"I can't believe you made an heirloom." Selena sighs, barely tracing her fingertips over the delicate combs when you put them down to hug your sister fiercely. "Have you ever thought about selling the things you make? The jewelry you made me for my birthday is gorgeous."

“Not really.” She admits with a slightly self-conscious shrug. “I don’t know if anyone would want to buy them.”

"Then we'll all be the very happy recipients of your beautiful handmade gifts," you promise your sister proudly. "But if you ever wanted to try your own small business, every single one of us would do whatever we could to help."

“It’s something to think about.” Sydney offers with an encouraging smile. “I think you would do really well.”

"You never know what the future will bring." Selena adds, and she aims a wink at June before judging you toward the door. "Except for today. We have two hours until the hair and makeup artists get here, which means we need to get the bride down to breakfast."

“Breakfast!” Selena moans happily. “Breakfast at the White House!”

“Nervous yet?” Juan smooths one hand down the front of his tuxedo and nudges Marcus’s side with a teasing grin. He knows that nervous isn’t quite the word for what Marcus is feeling now that it’s time for guests to start arriving and the evening to really begin, but his friend has been contemplatively quiet for the last ten minutes or so and a check-in seems the most minor of courtesies.

“Impatient.” Marcus is normally calm and collected, patience for days. Now, now his skin feels jittery, like he had three pots of coffee instead of the small glass of bourbon in the Oval Office about fifteen minutes ago.

“Like you’re about to crawl out of your skin, or like a kid the night before Christmas?” Juan asks, one eyebrow ticking up in Interest. The difference is important, though neither one is bad.

Giving a small laugh, Marcus’s shoulders roll back. “Both. It’s both.” He admits, looking over at Juan with a grin. “I don’t know how to even describe it. Except I wish this day could last forever and I want it to be over already.”

“Yeah.” The other man lets out a small bark of a laugh and shakes his head. There are some times when Juan is devastated to remember that there was many years when he and Marcus had lost contact. Marcus wasn’t even at his wedding despite Juan now being present for both of Marcus Pike’s. For as deep a bond as the men share, it seems like Marcus always should have been there. His emotional brother for so many years. “Come on,” he says, instead of voicing any of those thoughts. There is no need to make today bittersweet. “Let’s go greet your guests as they arrive. It’ll make the time go by faster and give you something to focus on.”

A task, something to do. That’s exactly what Marcus needs right now, because he really wants to go up to the residence and see you. The tradition is all that’s keeping him outside and he wants to keep from rehearsing his vows for a hundredth time. “Sounds good.”

“Alright, guys.” Juan turns to the others — to the other groomsmen in the Oval Office — and waves one hand toward the doors that lead the Rose Garden with a flourish. “Let’s get the night started.”

There is a knock on the door and it opens a bare inch. “May I come in?” Marcus almost laughs when the person the office belongs to is called in. Your mother is elegant in her mother of the bride gown and her smile is bright when she walks in. “I was hoping to speak with you a moment.” She admits and Marcus nods.

“We’ll be outside.” Juan offers, shuffling towards the Rose Garden door.

“I won’t keep you long,” she promises, smoothing the skirt of her satin gown as she slips into the room. She and the other parents had agreed on wearing formal black with accents of navy and gold to suit the wedding party and it had ended up looking quite elegant.

“Yes ma’am.” He won’t insult you by asking her if you’ve changed your mind, he knows that isn’t possible. He waits and moves over to the couch when she indicates a less formal audience than it would be if she sat behind the desk. Which every single one of the groomsmen did, including Marcus, and took pictures. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“I wanted to check in on you earlier,” she admits, the pinched smile pulling at her lips having nothing to do with him. “Unfortunately the world at large does not particularly care that it is my daughter’s wedding day and I had to take a call. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Great.” Marcus laughs, wondering if she thinks he has cold feet. “Honestly, I’ve been wondering why we didn’t have a morning wedding all day.” He admits. “I love your daughter and I am humbled to be her soulmate and have her choose me.”

"I don't doubt the two of you for a moment," she assures him easily. "No one who has seen the two of you together could ever have any doubts."

Sitting down, he smiles at his future mother-in-law. “That makes me happy.” He admits. “All I want is to be a good husband and man.”

"You are a good man, Marcus." She might have voiced concern far before this if he was not, but as far as this man's relationship with her daughter goes, she has been that most rare thing: a contented and approving mother. "But you know as well as anyone does, that things won't always be perfect. Sometimes things won't even be good. You've been through a lot as a couple already, and I applaud the mature and methodical way you tackle your problems together."

“You’ve raised a remarkable woman.” Marcus hums, proud of the stamp of approval. “All of your children.” He looks around the office in admiration. “This— holding this office, having this job is amazing and something to be proud of, but I believe your greatest achievement is the caliber of children you’ve raised for the next generations.”

"I've held them to a high standard," your mother admits, unashamed of that fact even as some might have looked at it from the outside and thought her unfair or asking too much at times. And maybe she was, but it never stopped you, Alex, or June from rising to the occasion. In fact, her three children have repeatedly met an ever-rising bar of expectation for their entire lives. "So I have to say both 'thank you', and agree with you. If the only thing I ever accomplished in my life was raising the three of them, I would still consider myself a remarkably accomplished person." She smiles at Marcus, resting a hand on his arm in that same reassuring and gently proud gesture she has shown to each of her children throughout their lives. "For what it's worth? The two of you are going to be a beautiful example of love and support for your own kids. All of those tough times will only bring you closer together. And when you need your family, we'll be here for you. All of us." If there is a bit of water behind her eyes, she isn't ashamed of it. It is an emotional day, after all. "I'm very proud to count you among my children, Marcus."

It’s not surprising that her profoundly emotional words makes him tear up slightly. Today will be a day where both of you will have moments where the emotions of the day, the love, get the best of you. “Thank you.” He covers her hand with his one and squeezes the back of it. “They say that when you get married, you also marry your spouse’s family, and this is one family I am proud to be counted among.”

"I think there is something to be said for finding friends within your family." She smiles, returning the gentle squeeze from him before she rises from the sofa. "But friends who are chosen family might be ever dearer. We're always here for you. Both of you. Birdie's father and I couldn't possibly be prouder of the two of you."

“Thank you.” He smiles. “Any words of wisdom?” He asks, always willing to listen to those who have succeeded for as long as your parents have. He would be a fool not to.

"Keep talking to each other." She knows that the conversations happen. Sometimes she hears about them and sometimes she just sees the fruits of the emotional labor, but keeping up with them is sometimes the hardest part regardless of how rewarding and healthy it is. "You're going to reach a place where you feel like you should be able to read each other's minds and you might start to just assume you're thinking or feeling the same things. Instead, the second you find yourself assuming, that should be your clue to check in with each other." Her hand on his shoulder is steady, and she offers him a reassuring smile. "Especially when it comes to your kids. They're going to surprise you every single day."

“Wise words.” Marcus smiles at the happy thought. “Did Birdie tell you?” He can only assume you have, since your core group of people know, but he wants to make sure.

“This morning at breakfast.” She beams happily. News of an impending first grandchild had brought her to near tears at the table. “We’ll be proud as peacocks when you’re ready to deliver the news. Until then, there is already plenty to be proud of.”

“Good.” He grins even broader at the idea of announcing the newest edition to the family soon enough. “First, we have some vows to say though.”

“You absolutely do.” Just one glance out the window shows both of them that guests are beginning to arrive full force, and her smile softens even more. “Go and say your hellos, honey. Let yourself be excited. It’s your day together.”

“Thank you….mom.” He tried the new title out as he leans in to kiss your mother’s cheek and then stands quickly.

“Go on.” She chuckles a little, smile brightening as Marcus heads for the door. “Oh! Marcus. One more thing.” When he turns like an excitable deer in headlights, she smirks. “You did get a picture at my desk, right? It’s going to be great in the wedding album.”

His grin is guilty, and he looks over at the desk. “Absolutely.” He admits with a chuckle. “Who wouldn’t?”

Waiting has been the hardest part. Waiting just inside the confines of the White House to be signaled out by Miss Sharma. Two by two, your wedding party goes down the aisle toward the rose-covered archway where Marcus is waiting, with Malachi carrying Constance and her little basket of petals making the most fuss at the head of the line until it’s only you and your father waiting just out of view to make your approach.

“I know you’re ready, pumpkin.” With a tone that has nothing but love dripping from his words, your father tucks your hand around his arm proudly. “You look beautiful. Too beautiful to be on my arm, but I think you’ll find the man who compliments you perfectly at the end of this short walk.”

“Right now it seems like the longest walk in the world.” But you look over at your father — beam at him, really — and don’t even bother to stifle the boundless, giddy giggle that bubbles out of you. “You set a very high standard for how I expect the men in my life to treat me, Dad. I hope you know that. Marcus is the only person I’ve ever met who could surpass it.”

“He’s a good man.” He has spent time with Marcus and there is no one else he would want to be by your side. “He will be your partner in life and love, and make you stronger when you need his strength.”

“He’s more than I dreamed of.” Your fingers squeeze your father’s arm gently as the music changes, the quartet of musicians in the garden moving into a classic arrangement of Etta James’ At Last as your cue to start walking.

Marcus shuffles slightly, unable to stand completely still as the pre-determined music starts. It’s perfect for the moment and everyone in the audience turns to watch as you and your father step into view.

If anyone had thought you wouldn't be holding back tears already, they would be desperately incorrect. Thankfully, your family and friends know you well enough that when you sniffle slightly at the top of the aisle, with your eyes brimming in unshed tears of joy, it's only smiles and nods of understanding from those you walk past. Not that you notice. Not that you're looking at a single person other than Marcus. Not that you could ever tear your gaze away from the matching water that has risen in his eyes, the two of you brimming over with tangible joy that almost makes you want to break away and simply bolt right into his arms.

The second he sees you, it’s like the air has been sucked out of his lungs. The moment barrels over him and leaves him breathless as the stunning vision of you captures his full attention. He can look at nothing but you, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes filled with unshed tears that this stunning creature, beautiful and wonderful in every sense, wants to marry him. He can’t even help himself, “I love you” is mouthed as you walk slowly towards him to the romantic song.

Love. Love hardly seems like a strong enough word right now. You mouth back to him, “I love you,” beaming as tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and when you finally put your hand in his at the end of the aisle it feels like your pounding heart grows wings.

Marcus nods at your father, but his eyes are on you, unable to believe how breathtaking you are. “You’re stunning.” He coos, making a ripple of adoration for the couple run through the wedding guests.

“So are you.” His family necklace hangs at your throat and your grandmother’s altered wedding dress hugs your figure, enormous symbols of the coming together that your wedding means for your families. The very real judge standing before you in the Rose Garden as friends, family, world leaders, and everyone in between watching on fade into the background for just one more second while you look up at Marcus. “Ready?”

Both of you manage to project the biggest grins towards each other. "Absolutely." He promises. He squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your skin gently. Nervous giddiness settles into his stomach and makes his entire body shiver in anticipation. Wanting this moment to be the perfect realization of the last year of planning.

However brief the formal ceremony might be, It’s stumbling tearfully through your vows that you know you’ll remember after today. The soft giggles from you and Marcus and the laughter and sniffles that ripple through the crowd as an echo of your happiness.

Marcus doesn't hear most of what the judge is saying, although he heard every word last night at the rehearsal. It was true what Juan said, once you see your bride, everything else fades away. The beautiful speech about soulmates and love is not even registering as he stares into your beautiful eyes.

"I," saying your full name almost sounds foreign for how much you want it to end in Pike already, "take you, Marcus Pike, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as long as we both shall live." The traditional vows were good for both of you, but you had agreed to add a little personal touch of your own to them. Something that made your vows yours alone. "I promise to keep your hand in mine through the parts of life we have never navigated before just as steadily as the parts that we have. I promise to love you in the big ways as well as the little ones, whether it's planning vacations and birthdays, or fixing your coffee in the morning so you can have that extra second to breathe before work. I promise to be the best wife and partner that I can be to you. To love you as an equal and to nurture the life we have together just as much as I will nurture any children we have." Through tears, you can't help but laugh softly as you look into Marcus's eyes. "No matter how many sets of twins we have." His family, and yours too, you're sure, laugh at that inevitability and there may even be some applause. "You love me and complete me in ways that I never knew possible, and I will spend my whole life loving you the same. Your love has made me a better woman, and I will not stop choosing you. My soulmate, my husband, my true love, and my very best friend."

He has to take a moment. Choked up and threatening to break down into the tears that are surely going to be present in the video, not that he gives a damn if the entire world sees how emotional your vows make him. Swallowing harshly and clearing his throat, the family and friends gather chuckle when he has to clear his throat and he shakes his head. "How can I beat that?" He asks, grinning at you before he straightens slightly. "I, Marcus Pike, take you –" he says your name in the warmest tone, "to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, in joy and sorrow, as long as we both shall live." He vows proudly. "From the moment I met you, I was drawn to you. My heart already knew what my mind had not yet figured out. You are my match. My mate in life and love. The perfect balance that completes me." He smiles at you, pulling your hands up to lay joined over his heart. "More than my soulmate, you are a wonderful, vibrant woman. One that I choose every day. I choose to love you, to build a life with you that we will look back on years down the road with pride." Squeezing your hands, he hums. "I promise to listen when you need an ear to talk to, to hold you when you need a shoulder to cry on. I promise that I will stand beside you when times are tough and celebrate with you when they are good. To find joy in waking up beside you every day and thanking the universe for placing us together. To protect the life that we build, the children that we have and put you and our family first before anything else." He says your name again. "I am the luckiest man in the world to have your love and your marks on my body. I will always choose you, my one true love. My wife. My soulmate."

In that moment, you could care less about protocols or order of events, and instinctually close the small gap separating you and Marcus to kiss him. There is a smattering of laughter and a little more applause, but the kiss doesn’t last long enough for the judge to do more than raise an eyebrow at you as if to disapprove. “I couldn’t resist,” you admit sheepishly, taking Marcus’s hands again as another wave of laughter rises out of your guests.

"You don't ever have to resist with me." Marcus promises with a happy little giggle of his own. Both of you turn back towards the judge. He shrugs slightly, "Proceed." He tells the man, unwilling to say sorry for that candid moment.

"The rings?" The judge asks, looking to the wedding party to move the end of the ceremony along. Malachi pops up with Constance still strapped to his chest in his impeccably tailored suit. The nearly identical wedding bands are distributed to you and Marcus and the judge nods. "Repeat after me, please. This ring I give in token and in pledge, as a sign of my devotion. With this ring, I thee wed."

"This ring I give in token and in pledge, as a sign of my devotion." You have to take a breath as you place the band on Marcus's finger and finish the promise with a shaky voice that is filled with more happy tears. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Marcus stares down at his hand as you slowly push the ring onto his finger. Humming when it is in place and feels perfect on his hand. The rings that he has already given you are stacked on your finger, the promise ring, the engagement ring and now ready for the last piece. "This ring I give in token and in pledge, as a sign of my devotion." He turns the ring to show you the engraving on the inside of the band right before he slides it onto your finger to complete the set. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Two hands, one heart says the inside of your wedding band, and as the judge is finally pronouncing you man and wife, you barely manage to tear your eyes away from the place where he has added this band to the others that he has given you. It's his eyes you're staring into again when the judge has his last words on the matter: "You may now seal your union with a kiss."

It's only fitting that the kiss that joins you together in holy matrimony include the infamous dip that had been photographed and talked about before your soulmate status was even known. His lips are curved against yours as he holds you dipped down low to the ground, the guests clapping and cheering as the clicks of the cameras go wild.

If he’s showing off just a touch, you’ll forgive him easily. After all, it is the perfect full circle moment for the two of you, a year and half after that first dance.

Pulling you upright, Marcus kisses you again, happiness making him giggle against your lips. “Mrs. Pike.”

“Finally.” You breathe, giggling right along with him, and clinging to his arms for support. “Finally.”

“Finally.” It’s almost a crime to have to break away from you so that the two of you can face your guests and walk back up the aisle. Sydney hands you your bouquet and shamelessly wipes the tears from her eyes, ready to follow after you on her own husband’s arm. The ceremony was perfect, and now everyone is ready to cut loose.

Walking you back up the aisle, Marcus is beaming, his smile lighting up his face and there isn’t anyone there who can deny that he is happy. He kisses your hand and squeezes it when you look over at him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Flowers and all else disregarded, you throw your arms around his neck once you’re back inside the White House and pull him into a kiss. The judge, Juan, and Sydney will follow in a minute to sign the marriage certificate with you but right now you’re all alone.

“I can’t believe that we made it through the ceremony.” Marcus admits with a small laugh as he goes in for another kiss.

“Barely did.” Your giggles bubble over, pouring into kiss after kiss. “I’m sure the one story that will get told over and over is that I kissed you during the ceremony.”

“I was about to kiss you, so I wasn’t upset at all.” He admits with a grin.

With your arms around his neck and his own around your waist, the sparkling shine and shimmer in your eyes is endless. “We’re married.”

“Technically not yet.” He teases. “We have to sign on the dotted line and make it official.” Still, that’s just paperwork to him. Not important and those vows you just exchanged.

“Paperwork.” The derisive noise you make comes with a wave of your hand. “It will be filed in no time. The vows are the important parts.” You hum softly, warmed through with bubbling joy. “And the I do’s, of course.”

“The I do’s are the most important part.” Marcus agrees, feeling like he could move mountains and conquer the world. Anything is possible with you by his side. “And you look amazing in that dress.”

"Me?" You practically blow a raspberry at him and run your hands down the lapels of his tuxedo, careful not to muss his boutonniere or the square of gold fabric in his breast pocket. "What about you? I'm over the moon that my Dad convinced you to go to his tailor because you look drop dead gorgeous."

“You like that, huh?” There’s a slightly smug edge to his smile, preening at how your eyes light up as you stroke his chest. The workouts have been helping and he had actually found he didn’t fit into his old tux anymore. His chest and shoulders were too broad now.

"Oh yeah." And if it weren't for seeing your friends approaching through the window, you might just show him how much. Instead, you hum a promise for later. "I'm going to have fun peeling this off of you tonight."

“We don’t have to go right to the reception.” He smirks.

"There are already two Secret Service agents who have probably heard us have sex," you remind him, smirking as men of the same agency open the door from the garden to let your wedding party into the Oval Office. "We don't need to add more to the list."

He rolls his eyes playfully but he doesn’t protest, knowing that now is not the time to sneak away. Everyone will be waiting for pictures to be taken and then for your entrance into the reception.

The decision to have a live band rather than a deejay means that the band leader is the one introducing members of your wedding party as they filter into the ballroom. Juan's mother has whisked baby Constance away for the rest of the night and Malachi leads the rest of the party into entering the ballroom, but it is the announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Pike that has you nearly floating into the room with your hand in Marcus's.

“I like the sound of that, don’t you?” Marcus asks, knowing that instead of a receiving line, the first order of the night is your dance as husband and wife.

“I think it’s perfect.” You agree, hand in his as the two of you move into the center of the dance floor. You’ll have your formal dances and then dinner can be served, leaving the rest of the night to be a wonderful party for everyone to enjoy. At whatever point the head table moves to make speeches, you will grin and bear the embarrassment. For now, you get to dance with your husband.

The sweet strains of your song start to play and Marcus hums with a loving gaze directed towards you. “You’re perfect.” He corrects you gently, pulling you closer to him. “And you’re my wife.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear this new verse again since my bridal shower.” The gentle reminder of his exquisite stunt that day makes both of you smile as you start to dance together.

He chuckles and listens to the song as it plays to match up the time. “As you love me, the world turns round. The birds sing, with songs of joy. My heart and soul are always yours. And life will be, La vie en rose.” He croons to you softly.

“I love you.” Holding him close in the dance seems like such a small thing to do, but keeping each other in your arms as you move around the floor is a beautiful kind of ecstasy tonight.

“I don’t think love is enough to describe what I feel for you.” Marcus admits. “Worship is closer. But it’s still not quite there.”

“Just don’t put me on a pedestal.” It’s something you have to remember not to do with him sometimes — not let yourself get carried away as thinking of him as perfect or worshipping him as your ideal partner. You’re both human, and fallible, and while your communication has been good it has to be maintained. Now, dancing with him, you look up and find his eyes watching you. “But today has been…perfect so far. More perfect than I could ever imagine.”

“We are going to have our ups and downs.” Marcus doesn’t have any illusions of perfection. “But there is no one I’d rather weather a storm with.”

His hand presses to the small of your back, spread out over the tattoo that marks you so decidedly as belonging together. Being meant for each other. Being two halves of one complete heart. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” You murmur, and squeeze his other hand gently in the dance, swirling through the crowd of family and friends, and listen to the last lyrics as they ring out loud and clear.

Give your heart and soul to me And life will always be La vie en rose

______

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