#it took me ages to think about that pun

[le0n-ardo]

In a relationship with 💙 Leonardo 💙 - SFW and Suggestive Headcanons/ficlet

Disclaimer: all my writings contemplate the turtles aged up at about their late 20s, with the reader at the same age range. Your media consumption is your own responsibility ✨ dividers by @/cafekitsune

More Ninja Turtle headcanons in my masterlist!

Leonardo is designated and resident Mr. Gentleman, and that's the main reason why you fell for him nearly instantly.

The first few days of knowing him were full of him calling you "Miss," which, in his voice, made you weak in the knees. He would also open doors for you, clear paths for you, tell you to watch your step whenever there was tricky terrain or a puddle, and ask for your permission whenever he'd have to help you climb up or down a building/manhole, depending on where you were going.

You were sure Leonardo was simply being polite with you and acting like the leader, which made him naturally respectful and caring. You didn't suspect Leonardo had a thing for you for months into knowing each other.

That being said, Leonardo had a hard time pining for you. The first one to notice was Donnie, but he never said a word. After him, Raph quickly realized Leonardo was a little off whenever you were around, and he tried to confront Leo and get him to admit he liked you on many occasions, but Leo would never accept it, not wanting to make a huge deal since he was certain you wouldn't return his feelings. It took him a while to get used to the idea of you feeling the same way.

When he couldn't deny it anymore was the first time you called him by his nickname, the one only you called him and he loved so much. The first time you called him Leon, he went so soft he didn't even have to speak the words "I like you" out loud. You could tell just by looking at those big blue eyes.

Now that you're together, he can't get enough of you addressing him in that special way. He doesn't care for pet names nearly as much as he just wants to hear you calling him that, and he'll verbally ask you to from time to time.

"Call me that again," he'll say, and he'll smile when you humor him by looking into his eyes and softly speaking the nickname.

"Leon."

The only other nickname you really have for him is "handsome" because, let's face it, for a turtle and a mutant, Leonardo is very handsome indeed. When you aren't using either of those names, you'll just call him Leonardo. Similarly, Leonardo loves to call you by your proper name, and he never fails to remind you how much he loves your name too. The only other pet name he has for you is "beautiful," which goes nicely, when you think about it. He's the handsome to your beautiful.

He prefers physical touch and shows of affection to be kept in private, but Leonardo's no stranger to loving looks and lingering stares whenever you two have company.

When you're alone, Leonardo will often hold you by your waist. He just loves the curve of your back.

He loves the feeling of your hands on him, too, and not only in a 👀 spicy 👀 way. Leonardo just loves that you touch him, whether you're playfully running a hand over his bicep or tenderly caressing the scars on his face.

Leonardo is a real sucker for kissing, no pun intended. Most of your alone time with him is spent making out, and you must say he's become a really good kisser since you started dating.

If you ever want to spice up a make out sesh with him, just call him Leon between kisses and look at him go! 🥴

And speaking of private moments, Leonardo's a real giver.

It amazes you how he manages to remain chivalrous even while he's giving you all the attention you could possibly want 👀

He loves to kiss your neck and your collarbones, and he'll take every opportunity to leave a little mark.

The hottest make outs you've had with him have been a result of him catching you staring at him - it really boosts his confidence and his ego to know you like what you see.

But on a more serious note - being the leader of the squad, Leonardo doesn't make a habit of venting or expressing any fears to his brothers. He does rely on you for that, never seeking to overwhelm you, but he knows he can trust you and that you'll be there for him, comforting him whenever he's had a rough mission or feels like his grip on the squad is loosening.

Needless to say, Leonardo's incredibly protective of you. He doesn't mind keeping watch outside of your home overnight if you ever feel uneasy, though most times he'd prefer it if you spent the night at the lair where not only he, but the rest of his brothers could protect you, too. Leonardo would honestly just prefer it if you moved in with him, to be honest.

His main love language is acts of service. If you mention a spider's been making its home on the roof of your bedroom, he'll go find it and move it outside. If you tell him you're thirsty, he'll get you a glass of water, and if you're ever scrunched up on the couch, he'll get you a blanket without you needing to ask for one.

All in all, everyone can tell how much you love each other. They know how good of an effect you have on Leonardo, and sometimes his brothers *ahem* Mikey *ahem* will try to get you to convince Leonardo to do things he might not normally approve of. It never works.

You would never trust anyone to do what Leonardo was doing at that moment. With one of his large hands, he carried you up a fire escape, supporting your full weight with his arm as if you were a beloved plush toy - he wouldn't break a sweat. His other hand was over your eyes, shielding your senses from whatever was waiting for you on the rooftop. That was all you knew, that for that date night, you'd be headed toward a rooftop. Leon had been secretive about the rest of the details. Stealth was one of his greatest qualities, unsurprisingly, but when it came to you, you could always read him like a book.

Because of that, whenever you caught a whiff of Leon having a surprise for you, the butterflies would endlessly swarm in anticipation inside you.

"Almost there, beautiful," he reassured, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"This is a tall building," you observed. "Or are you just stalling?"

"Uh..." Leonardo said. "Both, to be honest."

You giggled. "Oh, this better be good."

"Well, I have high hopes," he said, after which you felt the movement of him leaping over the edge of the wall, his grip on you safe and tight. When his feet landed, you could hear that they had distinctly done so on concrete, and it became clear you were on the rooftop he intended.

"Now, I'm gonna uncover your eyes, but you need to keep them closed, okay?" Leonardo said.

"I promise," your answer was playful.

"Stay here," he said gently, and you felt him set you on the ground and remove his fand from on top of your eyes.

You kept your promise and didn't look, not even to hint at peeking for further mischief. Around you, you could hear cars in the distance honking and driving through the streets, an airplane flying by, the wind brushing past you - all sounds from your familiar city. You couldn't hear Leonardo at all, ever the masterful ninja, dominant in stealth and agility, but when you focused enough, you soon became aware of the faintest hum of electricity that reached your ears, and not long after that, a soft press of a button made way for the intro of your favorite song, the song that had become yours and Leon's song.

"Open 'em," Leonardo said.

On his command, you opened your eyes and were met with a scene that could make you burst into hearts. The rooftop was small, and it had been turned into the coziest spot in the city. Blankets, pillows and cushions made a fort on the ground in front of which was a projector ready to play your favorite movie. There were three boxes of pizza at the center of the largest blanket on the ground, and there was a mini cooler with your favorite drinks in it. The rooftop, both on the ground and the pergola above, was covered in warm white and colored fairy lightsm giving the place an aura of romance and even a hint of magic. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight, and the only thing that made it more perfect was Leonardo standing in front of it all, his hand extended towards you, inviting you to him.

"Leon..." you walked up to him in awe. "You did all this?"

"Donnie helped," Leonardo replied, unable to take the credit all to himself.

"Oh," you sighed, taking one more look around before your gaze finally landed on Leonardo. "This is beautiful!"

He pulled you in closer. "Much like you."

You giggled as heat rose to your cheeks. "Seriously... thank you. But what even is the occasion?"

"I wanna pamper you," Leonardo said, angling his body to gesture at the fort of blankets and pillows. "Right this way, miss."

You felt yourself blushing even harder at Leonardo's chivalry - it would never fail to make you swoon. Still holding your hand, he led you toward the fort and helped you down to sitting, and then he took a seat next to you. One arm draped securely around you, pulling you close to him for you to snuggle against his broad frame, and the other reached for the pizzas.

"Your banquet," he smiled.

"My, my," you cooed. "How elegant we are."

Leonardo chuckled in that deep, smooth voice that you love dearly, and he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, unable to contain his desire to keep you close. The kiss was tender and sweet, almost shy, reflecting the gentleman he was. You kissed him back and brushed your hand lovingly over his cheek, giving him the confidence to kiss you with slightly more force before he pulled away and reached for a blanket to drape over you both.

"You doing alright?" He asked.

You nodded, leaning on him again. "This is perfect, Leon. Thank you."

He kissed your temple and opened the box of pizza to hand you a slice, which you happily took. You both ate and made little conversation in between, waiting for your song to finish, after which the movie began and you both settled for a lovely night outside.

He's my favorite so of course this got a bit long. I hope you liked it! You can see my masterlist for more if you want!

Reblogs are appreciated! 💙

[galedekarios]

down among the dead men

i finally finished reading sylvia feketekuty's short story in tevinter nights. sylvia feketekuty is also emmrich's writer in dragon age: the veilguard.

i wanted to compile what we learn about emmrich in sylvia's short story.

emmrich likes tea

"What happened then?" the older mage tilted a pot of tea encouragingly toward Audric.

his study is described in detail

Audric shook his head--he didn't feel like tea, particularly--while his eyes soaked in the room. He'd never been in a necromancer's study before. Ornately decorated skulls hung from hooks in the high, dark ceiling. One wall was made up of shelves with books and tiny labeled drawers. The other was fronted by tables full of bubbling flasks, scales, alembics, and tortured-looking glass. A smartly attired servant ground away with a pestle and mortar.

"Excellent question!" Emmrich swirled the tea in his mug, looking entirely too cheerful, Audric thought, for a man framed by so many racks of skulls.

the description of his study in down among the dead men is very, very reminiscent of his room in the lighthouse that bioware revealed a few days ago:

emmrich may have recreated the comforts of his study in nevarra within the lighthouse.

emmrich lets manfred mix tinctures

"Please, don't mind Manfred." The older mage refilled his own cup. "He'll finish mixing that tincture before you know it." Manfred, a clean-boned skeleton, held up a bowl. Audric read something helpful in the cant of its skull. The younger mage looked critical. "It needs half a cup more elfroot." The corpse pulled out one of the drawers on the side of the room, took out a withered root, and shook it inquiringly. "The royal elfroot, please." Manfred moaned and fumbled at more drawers.

emmrich compliments manfred's successes and is proud of him

"Yes! That's the one." The older mage beamed. "Very good indeed, Manfred!"

emmrich's appearance is described as well by audric

Audric dragged his gaze to the older Watcher across from him, with his silvered hair, tidy mustache, and long face full of concern. His expression reminded Audric of the Chantry scholars when they'd caught him reading by candlelight in the library. The good brothers and sisters had kindly tried to dissuade Audric from living in pages for so long he couldn't think straight in the morning.

i think they a phenomenal job bringing emmrich to life (no pun intended).

emmrich is quite informal, cares about putting someone else at ease, he treats audric as he would a living person, never forcing him to arrive at a conclusion or pressuring him

"Is there anything else you can recall about Lord Karn's funeral?" the mage asked gently. "No? I think... not much, sir. Another guard, she, well... Dellah even had to peel him off me, sir." The necromancer waved a hand. "Emmrich will do, please."

macabre sense of humour

"It's... sorry, it's a blur of screams, sir." "Some of it your own, I'd bet," the necromancer joked, but looked so sympathetic Audric relaxed by a degree.

he is indeed a professor/very scholarly

"Myra picked up the curved rib bone. One end was jagged from where Audric's boot had connected with Karn's rib cage. She handed it to Emmrich. "Excellent. Emmrich? This is your remit." "I'll have it ready before sunset." He sighed. "It would be faster if we'd managed to replace the librarian by now. The students have naturally left the books a mess."

this all fits so well with the blurb we were given about him not so long:

"Emmrich is as serious about his duty to protect innocents from the occult as he is about his studies and his interest in the mysteries of the fade."

don't leave the books in disorder, please.

emmrich is renowned to be good at what he does by other mourn watchers

"Myrna seemed content to leave things there, and took something out of a velvet purse. A rib bone. "Emmrich's prepared your trophy for us. His cathexis is very reliable." Audric felt the ground tilt downslope. "Madam?" "His magic." She tapped the rib bone. "This will now guide us to where Lord Karn's fled. Emmrich would join us, but he's been called to other matters."

i had to look up what cathexis means exactly and it's defined as follows:

In psychoanalysis, cathexis (or emotional investment) is defined as the process of allocation of mental or emotional energy to a person, object, or idea. [...] Cathexis comes to us by way of New Latin from the Greek word kathexis, meaning "holding."

myrna uses a skeleton to send a message to emmrich, presumably he might employ similar methods of communication if available

"Good." Myrna sent a mote of light into a nook in the wall. A moment later, a skeleton fell out, hissing and snapping. Myrna snagged it with a collar of green fire, tugged it like a leash. "Does that... hurt it?" Audric asked, more sympathetic to the shambling thing than he'd been a minute ago. "The sensations differ. With some of the dead, one must exert direct control." The skeleton subsided, making a strange whine. "A message," the Mourn Watcher told it. "Find Professor Emmrich Volkahrin. Tell him after some last business in the Winged Halls, we'll be joining him above without delay."

this description reminded me a bit of the brief glimpses we got of emmrich in the very first companion trailer:

emmrich appreciates punctuality & holding oneself to prior commitments

"You heard my message to Emmrich." She crooked a finger, gesturing to Audric. "We'll be expected. It won't be difficult to return from here. Audric looked around. "I can... I'm allowed to come back with you?" "Of course. Myrna lifted her skirts and stepped over a chunk of stone from the fight. "Emmrich will be put out if we don't show up for tea."

emmrich is incredibly kind when dealing with spirits and undead, no matter their rank or standing in life

"They were back in Emmrich's den. Audric had been astonished to see familiar tomes in a neat stack on the necromaner's desk. "Those... are those...?" "Yours, yes. From your home." Emmrich shook his head. "Forgive the liberty, guardsman. After you and Myrna left for the Necropolis, I had to search for a reason you might have returned so unexpectedly." "I believe we found it," Mysrna said, from where she was overseeing Emmrich's manservant transfer the contents of a bubbling beaker into a bowl. Emmrich handed the top book to Audric. It was a gazetteer of Nevarra City, stamped with a crowned skull surrounded by flowers. Audric flipped it open and read the blocky inscription. To our Son with Love. May you be Blessed in your Studied with the Chantry. "All this effort... for me? I'm just a guardsman, sir." Am? Was? Audric pushed doubt aside and held the gazetteer to his chest. He existed, knew what he loved, and that he had been loved, and that seemed enough in the moment. "The great leveler has no favourites." Emmrich smiled. "Neither does the Mourn Watch."

i found this reaction to myrna and audric quite interesting, and i'm not completely sure what to make of it yet:

"You are faced with a choice," Myrna said, coming over. "You have confronted your killer, and recognised your driving passion. You may rest now, guardsman." "Or?" "Or you may work under the auspices of a Watcher," Myrna said. "Under a modicum of magical control. To avoid anomie, the bond must be given freely." "To you, madam?" "If it's satisfactory." The guardsman ducked his head, and because that felt inadequate, knelt on a knee and held out a hand. Myrna, smiling slightly, took it. Emmrich coughed, looking away. "Please, let the poor fellow up. What position were you thinking?" "I thought it was obvious." Audric felt a slow excitement as he heard Myrna say: "We have a great need for someone to take charge of the library."

overall, i really liked this short story.

i loved how audric wasn't aware that he is, in fact, dead and has died a while ago. i loved how both emmrich and myrna didn't correct his assumption, but led him to the realisation. i love all the little insights we got into emmrich as a character, but also nevarra's culture, necromancy and the mourn watch.

it's definitely one of the best in the book. 🖤

[lostintransist]

It Was Almost Love

CW: Dead Dove: Gran dies, reader dies, Simon dies. Death is the breath of this fic.

You would die today. Something in the air tickled at the sense of otherness that had always kept you safe on every other mission.

Your Memaw had been something of a witch and all her children and their children had a touch of what she called the ‘old world’ in them. You had always trusted that sense, but you trusted Memaw’s more.

You had been six when your mother died in a car accident. Memaw had taken your hand at the wake. None of your aunts or uncles would take you, Memaw would shame them for their cowardice in the years to come. She would often complain as she creaked from standing to sitting that she was ‘too damn old for this child rearin’ nonsense’. She loved you fiercely and it showed in every homemade school lunch and her attendance at every performance. You grew up treasured and bathed in love.

Memaw had to have been nearing her nineties when she finally sat you down and explained she would be leaving soon. You had been sixteen.

“Now chile, I not long for this world. Your pappy has been calling me something fierce these past few years. I can only tell that man off so many times before he is going to come to drag me home by my ankles.”

You were sitting at the table that had been old when your mother had been young. The cheery daisies below the plastic sheet offered no explanation as you stared at them.

“Why are you leaving me Memaw?” You couldn’t keep the shake from your voice.

She had been talking about going ‘home’ for as long as you could remember, but never like this. Never before had it been fact instead of a desire.

Her knobby hands reached out, the age spots drawing your attention from the table.

“I am old, and frankly I have earned my rest. Everything is settled in my will, it sits in the family bible. I have left something for each of you, but you most of all. You tell your uncle James that if he contests I have a provision that he gets nothing. Despite my best efforts, he turned out just like my father.” She shook her head, wedding ring digging into your hand. You didn’t dare let go.

“One last thing chile.” She looked at you now, the years hiding her beauty behind gravity, “You will die in the desert, with the forests above you. When your time comes I will come for you; your mother and I both will lead you home.”

You didn’t think about it much. She had been gone the next morning, passed in her sleep the doctor said. The family descended, locust to the famine her death had caused. Again no one wanted to take you, nearly an adult they said. We’ll keep the house till you graduate. They didn’t. You got Memaws and Pappy’s wedding bands; they sat next to your dog tags. All the years of love boiled down to two gold bands and a surname.

You were shuffled from house to house until by a stroke of luck you stumbled into a recruiter's office to wait out a storm that passed overhead. You had just turned seventeen and could, with some sloppy handwriting, get in a little early. By the time anyone got around to verifying your age you were already through basic assigned to a team and only a few months away from eighteen. You had gotten a reprimand and a letter put in your file but it hadn’t stopped you from progressing. You tried twice as hard as anyone else, doubling your hours in training.

It took years of tenacity, but you finally landed somewhere you fit. The 141, a joint task force, had pulled your number somewhere after the third deployment you made it home without a scratch. You were still wary of Captain Price despite the years you had served under him. He looked too much like a man who had hurt you to ever fully relax.

There was Gaz and Soap, two men who tucked you beneath their arms and dragged you into every drinking game they started. You found what it could have been like to have siblings between their ribbing and childish puns.

You learned philosophy in the signs you shared with Roach. He couldn’t speak but the questions he posed set you down for weeks until you could nail the feeling and articulate it with your limited vocabulary in sign language. He told you often you could use your voice but you knew the gift of someone meeting you where you were at.

Ghost had been a whole other beast. Tall, tatted, and always wearing a mask. He spoke rarely, mostly to Soap. You slid under his radar. It took three years of serving with him before he said anything to you other than orders in the field.

“Y/N.” The sound of England never faded from his words. Maybe that is why he used his words so sparingly, to keep home close to his heart.

“Yes L.T.?” You stared at his tactical vest. You had already been reemed by Price for the ammeter mistake you had made today. You had nearly gotten Gaz killed.

“You good?”

This brought your gaze up sharply. You glanced over his face before turning your gaze back down.

“Nope, not at all.”

The tears began to well now. It was Memaw’s birthday and god if you didn’t miss her more than air sometimes.

You sniffed, a statue in front of you.

“Anything else Lieutenant?”

“No.”

You spun on your heel, stalking away from him.

He had been kinder after that. Well, kinder could be a bit of a stretch to call the change. He reminded you of a feral tom you had started to befriend when you were ten. You had found that old beast frozen to death behind the barn one winter. You stopped feeding the cats after that.

You had fallen for him, sand dropping grain by grain until you were in so deep only your nose stuck above the sand.

You never told him. One cannot expect a wild horse to love you more than the freedom of running. You tucked your feelings away, behind your vest and your metals. Always a soldier first.

“Y/N.” A hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

You looked up at Ghost, everything but the whites of his eyes blacked out. You were going on a midnight mission in the desert.

“If I die today, just know it’s not your fault.”

The man who more often stood frozen than in motion reeled back from your words.

“The fuck you mean Y/N? No one is going to die tonight, it’s just a recon mission.”

“Okay.”

You look down at your weapons, counting them and checking strap tightness.

“What’s this I hear about you dying?” Price strolls up to you, the casualness of his pace is betrayed by his words.

You sigh and turn to him, goatee always trimmed and combed to perfection.

“You ever just have a feeling captain?”

He shook his head, his hat casting odd shadows from the lights scattered around the base.

“Not feelings like that.”

“Mmm. My grandmother did, said goodbye to me the night before she passed. Told me I would die in the desert with the forest above my eyes. She’s close Cap.”

You can feel his stare, evaluating. You can see when he decides to let it ride, too much could go wrong tonight to switch out a different team member.

“Just, don’t do anything stupid out there okay?�� He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, the other hand straying for a cigar.

“Cap?”

“Yeah,” he replies around the end of his now-lit cigar.

“If I do die tonight, would you give Ghost my flag? No one in my family will care when I am gone.”

Price puffs a stream of smoke out of his nose, reminding you of a dragon.

“Yeah, I will. Just don’t die out there okay?”

You offer a faint smile in reply.

The time finally comes and you join Ghost in a Humvee, you are the passenger in the front seat. This stupid car would lock up if the front seat got moved back and the mechs team had yet to figure out a workaround for it.

You rode along, moonlight guiding your path until a screech of metal bending, fire, and a shock wave that stole your vision rocked your world.

You wake staring at the stars agony licking along every nerve ending. You can’t hear anything, ears still ringing. You blink and Ghost is there, down by your knees. He is messing with something. You gasp as a tourniquet tightens down just above your knee. You knew what that meant, and it wasn’t good.

Ghost moves up, checking the rest of you for injuries. When he gets to your head he taps your cheek lightly, you can’t hear him past the ringing in your ears that won’t stop.

You grab your mic, you set it to record tonight as well as transmit.

“There’s no saving me tonight Simon.”

His eyes widen, either at the second proclamation of your death or at the use of his name. You had seen it on a single un-redacted file several years ago, a treasure you hoarded.

Your eyes flick around wildly, catching sight of shadows in the flames of your Humvee.

“I just need you to know that Price is giving you my flag.”

Ghost turns your face back to him, he has wrenched his mask up, his mouth visible.

‘why me’ you can make out.

You shrug with one shoulder, “Why not you? I’ve been in love with you for years.”

His mouth gapes like a fish searching for breathable oxygen.

“My mama is here now, I’ve got to go.”

You start to close your eyes.

Ghost shakes you, his yell sliding over the ringing.

“Y/N! You can’t just say that and up and die!”

You smile at him weakly. Everything about you is weak. You’ve lost too much blood. You lift your arm, it shakes wildly as it touches his face.

You slip your fingers below the mask, the bristle of his stubble a shock to you.

“Memaw’s here too. I love you.”

You don’t know how you missed it, serving with him for so many years. But Ghost’s eyes were forest green.

***

Ghost stood vigil with your body. He tucked your leg into place on the stretcher, right where it was before everything went sideways. He followed you, your blood on his cheek until physically restrained from where they prepared to send you stateside.

Price didn’t deny the leave request. Ghost had never requested one before, and your words still echoed in Cap’s ears. ‘Give him my flag.’ Price noted the flag would be given to your teammate, a man who legally was dead while you lay in a box.

Ghost didn’t cry as he sat in the cemetery, little white crosses laid so neatly as a testament to the greed of man. He didn’t cry as your countrymen folded your flag in such a small neat triangle, or when seven repeated shots felt as if they all stabbed into him.

No, he cried in the scummy motel that was rented by the hour with the strongest piss alcohol he could find. You had been in love with him? How had he not known?

You stayed with him. Your picture lived between his shirt and his vest, holding him safe from the missions that got more and more dangerous.

It was almost love.

You were on his mind when he found the bouncing Betty with the toe of his boot.

He managed to clear everyone far enough away before he moved, not quite fast enough though.

He swore you sat at his head, sliding your hand along the same cheek you had caressed so many years before. You smiled at him then, you hardly smiled at him while alive. You disappeared between Soap and Gaz as they rushed in to help him.

The loss of his leg had sent him home. Honorable discharge and a command from Price to stay away from the drink and get well enough to stay a veteran.

He tried so damn hard. He thought about you every day. It was almost love.

He made it until your death anniversary until he painted the walls with his brain matter. He prayed to any god that might listen that on the way to hell to just let him have a pit stop to see your face.

Masterlist

[kickis-conan-king]

Thinking about. How Keith thinks Lance is funny. Like Lance can tell the dumbest most no punchline joke in the world it’s just like, a Kid Joke you know? Not even a pun it’s just dumb silly. And Keith is laughing. And it’s not even because it’s like, oh Keith likes him so everything he says is automatically funnier, it bc Keith sense of humor is the type of humor a ten year old boy in a movie has. Like, fart face is funny bc it’s got farts. Putting stuff up your nose is hilarious. I’ll stick you in a wormhole? It’s funny. Keith is ashamed of himself bc he’s also like, a sarcastic teenager but he never got inoculated to those type of jokes as a kid bc he didn’t spend enough time with kids his age, so it all just hits him straight in the funny bone. Lance is so used to people rolling their eyes and huffing, the first time he clocks the fact that Keith is laughing With Him, he is lit up fuzzy inside and doesn’t Get Why. And Lances humor veers that way bc it’s humor designed to be pg, he took care of kids too much, he a camp counselor at heart. He starts laying it on double thick whenever Keith is around bc he wants him to break so bad. Keith is hanging on by the skin of his teeth. And it’s like a built up volley of jokes that includes like, the word ‘weiner’ or something that finally does it. And Keith is Laughinggg like clutching his stomach, snorting, crying gasping laughing and Lance is beaming, looking prouder then ever, chasing Keith around shouting weiner in increasingly ridiculous voices and Keith is giggling all like no lance stop your killing me it’s too funny!!! And the rest of the team is watching this like. Ooooh shit. They’re fucking idiots.

[i-am-ir0n-maiden]

"My personal ice cube"

"I'm your what now?"

Warnings/tags: good!Loki, fluff, soft!Loki, Avenger!Loki, you and Loki are friends, I had a dream about this and decided to make a fic from said dream

No age limits

Fandom: MCU movie Loki

You couldn't get comfortable no matter how hard you tried.

You'd think in a high-tech place like this, the air conditioning wouldn't break, would have failsafes or something. Wrong - the new Compound may be great, but since it's just been built there are still a few kinks to work out. Tony said he'd call his HVAC guy in the morning, but he's still locked in the lab right now, so he'll have to be reminded. JARVIS will remember.

It sucks to be exhausted and not be able to fall asleep. As you flopped about, trying to find a cool patch in the sheets, you barely registered the quiet sounds coming from your TV through the haze of sleepiness. Why couldn't the AC have broken on a cooler night?

Then a thought hit you that made you sit bolt upright.

Loki.

Of course. Why were you laying here melting when you had a literal Jotun for a friend, only a few rooms away?

Without wasting another second, you rolled off the bed and padded through your dorm on bare feet, slipping soundlessly out the door and down the hall to Loki's room.

He normally locks his door. It was odd that you found it unlocked when you got there, but you were grateful.

You walked over to his bed and took a moment to admire him like this - asleep, relaxed, happy... He looked almost younger, with no worries on his mind at the moment. Then common sense kicked in thanks to your body noticing that it was still oppressively hot, and you had the bright idea to make sure there were no knives within easy reach. You didn't want him to stab you whilst half-asleep.

Okay, I should be safe. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the bed beside Loki.

He was still partly dreaming, you think, because he shifted closer to you. You couldn't hold back a little whine as you felt his cool body press against yours - the feeling was divine, pun intended.

That woke him. You flinched back as his body stiffened and he opened his eyes to see you beside him.

"What in Hel are you doing?" he asked in a voice that, while still thick with sleep, carried plenty of danger beneath the surface.

Brain still muddled with exhaustion and the innate need to cool down, you did something the tiny remaining rational part of you knew you'd regret.

You reached up and put a finger to his lips to shush him. "Shh... I'm dying in this heat and you're a frost giant. Put the pieces together. You got two choices - hold me to cool me down or use your magic. But you're gonna help me." As if to illustrate your point, you curled closer against him.

He looked down at you with a rather taken-aback expression on his face. "My, my, darling, a Midgardian thinks she can order one of Asgard to do her bidding, does she?" If you didn't know better, you'd say he was attempting to hold back a laugh.

"Mhm, maybe." You murmured softly. "Now make up your mind."

You felt his chest vibrate with a chuckle. "Very well." With that, his arms slipped around you, pulling you closer.

You hummed happily as he held you close, reveling in being in his arms as much as being able to cool down. It wasn't like you two'd been mutually crushing on each other for as long as Loki had been an Avenger. Nope, no way.

As you finally got comfortable enough to drift into sleep, pressed against Loki with your head on his shoulder, you felt a soft brush on your forehead that if you didn't know better, would have felt like a kiss. "Goodnight, darling," he whispered as he drifted off as well.

"Night, Lokes." You whispered back. "You make a wonderful personal ice cube."

"Thank y- I'm a what now?"

"Nevermind, Loki, go to sleep."

"Mm. G'night." he murmured against the top of your head.

Then one thought struck you like lightning before you succumbed to sleep.

You gave him the option of using his magic on you.

So why did he choose to cuddle you instead?

((if you want this continued, lemme know! I'd love to make it a series!!))

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

i can't stop thinking about Hawks getting pissed during an interview where another pro hero makes a remark about how Hawks pretty little sidekick could do so much better at their agency,,, and he has to sit there and play nice but once it's over hes allllllllllll over her,,,,, yea <3

I was at a con when I got this request and it got me giggling out loud and shit.

This took so long to write because I had writer's block, but I hope you like it <3

Warnings: the tiniest bit of spice, basically just enhanced making out, I tried to make this one a bit more fluffy, language, a random oc because I couldn't really think of any other pro-heroes within the age range who were assholes

Word Count: 2.5k

"And now for our next set of guests, I would firstly like to introduce the primary reason that half of our female viewers tuned in tonight."

The live audience erupted into applause as the pro made his way onto the stage, waving a hand before running it through perfectly-styled golden bangs.

The host, a middle-aged man with strikingly purple hair met him halfway. "Hawks, how are you doing tonight?"

"I'm doing great." He smiled, perfectly aware of how easily that grin could melt hearts. "Happy to be here."

"We're happy to have you!" The host reflected his expression, flashing a set of teeth that were so flawlessly white it was almost unnerving. "And next up, we have another hero slowly climbing up the ranks, the Hound Hero, K-Nine!"

Another man hopped on to the stage, earning another round of cheers from the crowd in front of him.

Umber hair had been wrapped into an unkempt bun, matching the deep shade of his eyes. He could be considered pretty attractive, Hawks supposed, if you could look past the ears poking past the up-do.

Although he didn't know the hero's legal name, nor did he care enough to look it up beforehand, he was ninety perfect positive that it started with the letter 'K.'

Cheesy, but he wouldn't judge. He'd been known to appreciate a good pun.

What he didn't appreciate was that fact that his PR rep had dragged him to another interview on his supposed day off.

Still, he was better than most at keeping up appearances, flashing that heart-stopping grin and throwing in a clever comment when the time called for it.

The host asked the usual questions, the similarities to K-Nine and himself, even though he was sure that those ended at their shared animal-based quirks and the fact that they were both in their mid twenties. Regardless, anyone with eyes would see that the two could barely be considered to be on the same level, something that brought an air of dullness to the interview.

As usual, the winged pro found it difficult to pay attention, leg bouncing in anticipation of how long he would be stuck here. That was one of the less-apparent downsides of being someone who prominently valued speed; sitting through such monotonous situations was quite the feat.

Instead, he droned out the voices as the men across from him started to discuss the importance of sidekicks.

And that's when he heard your name.

He perked up, immediately recognizing that K-Nine was staring in his direction, wolfish grin only accentuated by the sharpened canines poking out from under his lips. "I gotta say, I'm jealous."

Hawks cocked an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

Nodding, the brunet allowed the surface-level authenticity to settle for a moment. "Someone as cute as that? I don't know how anyone there manages to get work done."

It was almost unnoticeable, practically unseen over the televised pixels many were watching through. Regardless, the slight tense of his wings in pure irritation was undeniable.

So, that's what this was about.

Forcing a smile, he replied. "Considering our criminal apprehension rates, I think you'd be surprised."

K-Nine leaned back into his chair, haughty expression flickering between the good-hearted playfulness he was supposed to be exuding. "All I'm saying is a pretty little thing like that could do a lot better at my agency."

Golden eyes narrowed slightly as the connotation, fingers digging into the plush sofa as he used every bit of mental strength to will the spite from his tone. "As far as I know, all of my sidekicks are perfect content to work with me. Just like I'm sure yours are happy to work with you. Not sure how they handle all the fleas, though."

The cluster of people in front of him busted into laughter, and he joined in, but the sound seemed to be laced with a soft malice if you managed to listen hard enough.

Playing nice for the public was one of his strong suits, and considering his resilience in a long-term business relationship with Endeavor, he could rightfully say that he was able to handle difficult personalities.

All that tolerance seemed to fly out the window when it came to you.

And the hero across from him either had the social recognition skills of a goldfish, or was too dumb to care.

Regardless, K-Nine turned to the audience. "Come on, I've got a chance, right?"

Some man in the crowd let out a whistle and Hawks felt a compelling urge to hurl a shoe at his nose.

"Speaking of romance," the host verbally silenced the room, making Hawks more grateful than he thought momentarily possible, "I've got to ask, anyone special worthy of a mention?"

Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief, the inquiry signaling the closure of the interview, which had seemingly gone on for a few decades at the very least.

It was always like this, the same question would be asked, and then he'd give the same bullshit-answer about the love from his fans being more than enough.

Fuck, how great would it be if he threw your name into the mix.

That'd shut that arrogant mutt up real quick, that's for sure.

But he'd keep his mouth shut, if not for his own benefit, but for yours.

With your take-down rate, it was blatantly how talented you were as a hero and, even if it wouldn't be many, Hawks would be damned if anyone questioned your acceptance into his agency.

In all honesty, he had initially recognized your power and intelligence, traits that had gotten you the job in the first place.

It was in those first few months that he had begun to realize how much he liked you, how much he liked to watch you kick ass, or how pretty you were, even if it was preposterously early in the morning.

So he'd stay quiet, if only to keep a few impudent naysayers off your back.

Not to mention that you might wring his neck.

Instead, Hawks sat simmering with annoyance on that plush sofa until the cameras were cut and he was forced to shake hands, first with the host, then with his fellow interviewee for the night, the latter receiving the tiniest bit more squeeze.

The night was cold but he opted to fly back to his agency, allowing the chill to tangle through his hair and hopefully disperse some of the vexation he desperately needed eradicated.

Besides, driving would mean lesser access to his office skylight, which also meant a long-ass elevator ride that he didn't have time for.

It was unlocked, thankfully, and he slipped into the room. He moved to shrug off his jacket, but paused, double taking at the light blooming under the thin fracture between his door and the marble flooring.

Obviously, he wasn't scared. Anybody would have to be pretty idiotic to attempt robbing a place belonging to the number 2 hero, and even more so to leave a light on.

Regardless, he stayed quiet, hoping to avoid an unnecessary interaction with a coworker he didn't have the patience for, and crept around the corner, expression softening a bit at what he saw.

It was you.

You were huddled over your desk, typing furiously at some important looking document. The computer screen illuminated your features, casting a dull glow over the otherwise unlit room.

Hawks recognized the soft tense of your eyebrows every few seconds, the way that you would pause to collect your thoughts before issuing that recognizable click-clack of your keyboard in focused chunks of writing.

He leaned back on the wall, arms crossed as he watched you work with a fond grin gracing his features.

After a while, you sighed, taking a moment to rotate the stiffness beginning to take place in your neck. Your gaze lazily flit over the room and you jumped. "Fuck!"

"Wow, that took you forever, sweetheart," he sighed, tilting his head in a teasing inquiry. "Do we need to work on awareness skills with the other sidekicks?"

"If you're gonna keep lurking behind corners like the boogeyman, then probably." You rolled your eyes, allowing his petname to settle in your mind. "And I thought I told you not to call me that during work."

"Why? Because you get all blushy and embarrassed?" He pushed off the wall, strolling over and nestling his head on your left shoulder.

You tensed a bit as he arms snaked over that of the chair, hands wrapping around your torso. "I don't."

The hero laughed, pulling at your cheeks like he could feel the heat creeping into him. "Work hours are over anyway. Which means that you shouldn’t be here."

"I need to finish this report." You nodded to the screen as if to prove your point, eyes narrowing as he continued to bury his face into your neck. "Are you okay?"

He paused, eyebrows furrowing as he backed away. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You get extra clingy when you're upset. Did something happen at the interview?"

So, you hadn't seen it.

"How dare you," the faux-hurt lacing his tone was a stark contrast to the satisfaction he felt knowing that you were close enough to recognize some of his physical tellers. Still, you didn't need to know that. "I do wonderful in interviews."

You smiled and he felt his heart melt. "Well, I'm just going to have to check and make sure."

Saving the work on your current tab, you moved your mouse to open up a new one before finding YouTube, which would most likely already have clips of the program uploaded. You were barely hovering over the search bar when the man all but threw himself on to your lap, arms latching themselves around your waist. "Don't. There were so many annoying people there."

"I thought you had an avian quirk," you groaned, arms straining as you tried to detach his. "If you had boa constrictor powers then I would've liked to know."

He glanced up, eyes wide and oddly reminiscent of a child waking up his parents in the middle of the night. "I'll let you stay and work overtime if you let me hang out here for a while. It's been a very long day."

"Oh, I'm sure it has." You rolled your eyes, sighing in exasperation.

Despite the sarcasm, you succumbed to his request, letting go of his annoyingly firm grasp in favor of continuing to finish your report. Hawks found himself relaxing into your thighs, overly hyper brain surprisingly calmed with the muted tapping of your keyboard.

After a few more minutes, you shifted, pushing his unsuspecting form onto the floor and giving a laugh at the pout overcoming his face. "Bathroom. I'll be two minutes, at the very most."

It was, in fact, just past one-hundred and twenty seconds by the time you returned. The hero was currently taking up occupancy in your swivel chair, oblivious to the confusion at which you glaring at your phone with.

"Do you somebody named Kano Kirisaki?" You asked.

"Who?" He asked without looking up.

"The Hound Hero. He's somewhere in the late sixties on the charts, I think?" Despite your career as a pro-sidekick, you weren't exactly overly concerned with the rankings.

"Oh," he replied, ignoring the urge to add a 'called it.' A tic of annoyance threatened to emerge on his forehead, but he did his best to ignore it. "What about him?"

"I just got a text. The guy said that you gave him my number. Is that true?"

That made him pause.

"He said what?" The vexation simmering in his copper gaze was downright terrifying, only extenuated by the slow upturn of his chin as his eyes met yours.

"Apparently not." You made a beeline for the door, device still in hand and fingers typing away. "I'll just let him know that-"

Something whizzed past your face and you came to an abrupt halt, feeling the breath of air over your cheek as the object whirled by and just barely missed you.

You blinked, taking a moment to recognize what had just happened. You hadn't been hit, but the object previously in your hand?

Less lucky.

Spinning around in shock, you were met with the stupefied face of Hawks, who was currently staring in horror at the item stuck in the wall and the feather protruding out of it.

He just skewered your phone.

You turned again, silently walking over and yanking the hardened plume out before inspecting the damage. The screen had been shattered, the back cameras also blown to bits from the harsh impact.

"Oh, fuck." The hero stood, movements quick and panicked as he ran over to you. "Oh, shit. I am so sorry."

"What the fuck?" The sentence was less of an aggressive statement, more of an actual, bewildered question. Seeing as how completely flabbergasted you were, it was almost hard to be genuinely angry for the first few seconds.

"I swear, I don't know why I did that," he assured, running a hand through his hair in alarm. "But I'll get you a new one. That model was kinda old anyways…"

You scoffed. "Oh, thank goodness. I was hoping to get a replacement. How wonderful that you happened to impale this one."

His arm caught yours as you turned to leave, forcing your line of sight to meet his. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Against your best efforts, you felt your chest lighten a bit at the tenderness he was regarding you with. It was almost impossible to stay cold when the guy you had been admiring for weeks was looking at you like that. "I just don't... I just need you to know that you can be honest with me. I don't know what's wrong, but if there's anythi-"

Your eyes shot open as his mouth smashed against yours, taking a pause before fluttering to a close.

One of his hands curled into your hair, the other finding its way around your waist. His kiss traveled over your jaw, trailing until it was above your collarbone.

With his enhanced senses, it was easy to tell what areas you were most sensitive. He relished in every pleasured breath, the way your heart rate would speed up when he bit down ever so gently.

It took a tangible amount of self-control to keep himself from jumping you when the smallest whine fell from your lips. Instead, he lifted his leg in between your thighs, watching your form falter as a spark of warmth shot through your abdomen.

You around an arm across his shoulder, an attempt to steady yourself as you watched him pull away, arrogant grin gracing his features and eyes glowing softly. Their soft luminescence was nothing less than beautiful and you silently questioned why you hadn't scheduled more late night patrols. His fingers grazed underneath your shirt, tickled the skin of your waist with their gentle warmth.

The breath had escaped your lungs, but it was nearly impossible to keep the smile from your features. "What the fuck happened in that interview?"

Hawks chuckled, touch brushing over the small mark on your collarbone that he had left behind. His heart jumped at the thought of leaving more, leaving zero questions about who you belonged to. "Nothing that you need to worry about, sweetheart."

It was less than a day by the time you got your new phone.

[silvyysthings]

Am I crazy for thinking ACU has been cursed from the moment it was announced!! Like it’s just been one disaster after another, a dark cloud hanging over it. Covid, the actors’ strike, wildfires, messing with filming and the awards campaign. And then on top of that we’ve got the most cursed stunts ever: Cabo and the Kardashians. It’s like, please, can this whole thing just end already? It’s been five years. Go away, Satan.

And yeah I 100% agree with you, his team and the awards campaign are a total dumpster fire. At first I thought hey they know the industry better than me, right? Maybe they’ve got a plan. But nah.

We all know the Golden Globes is the only realistic prestigious award he could win. The Oscar? Slim chance. And even then, they completely fumbled the Golden Globes, turned it into a circus twice. He didn’t win, and you could see the disappointment all over his face.

Austin Butler won the Globe for Elvis and lost the Oscar, but for his age, that was still a solid awards campaign. Tim’s isn’t. His team is a mess. Like who thought acting desperate would somehow improve their chances?!!! And if anyone still thinks there’s a shot at an Oscar now, they’re delusional.

Call Me By Your Name didn’t need all this nonsense. It’s more awarded, more appreciated both as a movie and for his performance. Plus it had a relatively better box office with way less marketing and a smaller budget. Because, LESS. IS. MORE.

All I see people saying about this campaign is that it’s desperate, try hard, and completely manufactured. Which sucks because he’s one of the most genuine actors out there. Bravo.

I want to thank you anon, I don't know who you are or if we have talked but you completely get all my thought about this and acu 🎯🎯

too much promotion in my opinion is too much (excuse the pun), too much exposure, too many appearances risk backfiring, even if they are worth Oscar nominations. Different is the case of cmbyn, an authentic jewel where the appearances and interviews of the 2 protagonists took your breath away every time for the chemistry and the special bond, making the public wish for more exposure.

Thank you anon 👏🏻

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

A different first meeting AU inspired by Blink182 - The Rock Show because I think Tommy is a rocker (no pun intended)

I'll post to AO3 when I've had some sleep.

🎵 fell in love with the boy at the rock show🎵

---

It wasn't his usual hang out, but after his break up with Natalia, Buck was desperate to surround himself with as much life as possible.

Some hole in the wall bar advertising live music, outside the 118's jurisdiction, seemed the perfect place to do it.

And also to forget he was currently the only single member of the 118 A shift.

The music was decent, the drinks not too expensive, and he liked the general vibe in the place. Even if he didn't recognise the majority of the songs the band was playing.

"Haven't seen you here before." someone said in his ear and he turned around.

The guy was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut diamonds.

"Oh uh... yeah... I mean... no, you haven't. I just wanted a change of scenery, I guess."

"Yeah? And how is that working out for you?" the guy asked, sitting down on the barstool next to Buck.

"Not too bad." he replied. "I think I like it here."

"That's good to hear. It would be a shame if we'd never see you again." the guy smiled and Buck was almost mesmerised by the way his eyes crinkled when he did. "Do you want another?" he nodded at the almost empty glass in front of him.

"Sure."

The guy got up and rounded the bar, grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge.

"Is this your bar or something?"

"It might as well be with the amount of time he spends here." a woman of around their age said, as she walked back behind the bar carrying a serving tray with empty glasses.

"I keep telling you Gina, you should let me buy into this place. Tommy and Gina. Living on a prayer."

"Why does your name get to go first if its my bar?" the woman asked, hand on her hip.

"Because that's how the song goes. Take it up with Jon if you don't like it." he told her and laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

"Get back to your side of the bar, you menace."

The guy, Tommy apparently, laughed again and went back to his seat next to Buck.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"He wishes! I'm a catch!" Gina said while preparing a cocktail.

"Sure you are. If I was into women I would have made a move on you years ago." Tommy told her, looking at Buck from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction.

"If I was into men, I might have appreciated that."

"She loves me really." Tommy told Buck. "Has done since we were kids."

"He was the new kid in the neighbourhood and my mother made me go say hi and play with him. Haven't been able to get rid of him since." Gina commented, and walked away with the cocktail.

Tommy laughed and took a swig of his beer.

"So now you know my name and how my best friend was forced to befriend me... but I don't know anything about you... yet."

"Well... what do you want to know?" Buck asked, trying to tear his eyes away from Tommy's lips when he took another swig.

"Everything." Tommy replied. "But let's start with your name."

"I'm B- my name's Evan." Buck told him, holding out his hand.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at the stumble but didn't mention it.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

They talked for a while. Laughing about everything and nothing, with Tommy getting mock offended when Buck admitted he didn't know the song Tommy insisted was one of his favourites and not many of the others either.

"Hey I spent most of my twenties travelling!" Buck laughed, defending himself. He liked talking to Tommy. He was fun and friendly, and definitely easy on the eye.

Objectively speaking of course. He'd always been able to appreciate a hot guy when he saw one. Just like he'd look at hot women. It meant nothing.

"And you didn't listen to music on your travels?" Tommy asked incredulously.

"I did... but I didn't pay much attention to it I guess" Buck shrugged, taking a swing of his drink. He hadn't really kept track of how many he'd had but he was starting to feel the buzz. "My sister's..." he shook his head trying to think of a word to describe Chim's relation to him and Maddie. "My brother in law..." He settled on. "He's this movie buff and he's always rolling his eyes at me when I don't get his references."

"Not a movie guy either?"

"Not really. I get distracted. I prefer documentaries. I like learning new things." Buck explained and took a good look at Tommy, taking in the amused look on his face. "Let me guess... you're a movie buff too?"

"I like the escapism, sue me." Tommy replied. "But I'm happy to teach you all about the classics. I've been told I'm a good teacher." He smiled and leaned a little closer, and for a minute Buck thought he was about to kiss him.

And how much he wouldn't mind that. At all.

"Thomas, get your ass up here and make yourself useful, man!" the singer from the band that had been playing all night suddenly called out.

And suddenly the moment was gone. Tommy laughed, leaned back, quickly finished his beer, and got up.

"Duty calls... are you sticking around, Evan?"

"Uh y-yeah, sure."

"Great." Tommy said happily and squeezed his shoulder in passing, letting his hand linger just a fraction too long.

He walked up to the stage and someone handed him a guitar.

As the band started playing, Buck recognised the song as one of Tommy's favourites he'd pointed out to him earlier, and couldn't help but stare at the man.

He was laughing with the others and making playing the instrument look effortless.

He was confident. Interesting.

The band played a few songs before Tommy handed the guitar back to a woman Buck hadn't noticed before and he stepped off the stage again.

Buck made his way over, suddenly eager to talk to him before anyone else would have a chance to.

"Hey!" Tommy greeted him and the crinkly smile was back. "Glad you stayed."

"Y-yeah me t-too..." Buck stammered, his brain somewhat disconnected from his mouth. "S-so... you play guitar?"

"Bass actually." Tommy corrected him. "Everyone knows the bass is the most important instrument in a band." he grinned. "I've been playing since I was a teenager and I play with these guys sometimes when I'm around."

"Yeah? You sounded pretty good. You made it look so easy. I wish I could play."

"I could teach you." Tommy offered without missing a beat.

"Yeah? Is that before or after you teach me about classic movies I need to watch?" Buck tilted his head and smiled as he stepped closer to Tommy, only vaguely aware he was doing it.

Tommy glanced down at his lips.

"No reason we can't do both."

Suddenly there were two fingers under Buck's chin, tilting his face up and Tommy's lips on his for the softest first kiss he'd ever had.

It was over before Buck's brain had really caught up with what was happening and he just stared at Tommy with a dazed and confused look on his face.

"Sorry I - " Tommy started but Buck cut him off, putting a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close and kissing him until neither of them could remember their own name.

~ A few days later ~

"There he is, Tommy Kinard, the man of the hour. Long time no see. " Chim said, pulling the guy that had just walked up to them in for a quick hug.

Buck couldn't get a good look at him from where he was standing. The guy was just muscles under a straining blue flight suit and slightly messy brown hair, until Chim stepped away and Buck choked on air.

Chim's buddy was the Tommy from the bar. The bassist who had turned his world upside down with two fingers under his chin in a dark corner of a bar he'd ended up in by chance.

"Let me introduce you to these two knuckleheads. This is Buck and Eddie." Chim gestured at them. "Guys this is Tommy, he used to be at the 118 when you two were just a twinkle in Bobby's eye."

Eddie stepped forward first and shook Tommy's hand.

"Eddie Diaz, thanks for helping us out."

"Sure thing. If Howie calls I answer. I owe him my life."

Eddie nodded and stepped back and gave Buck an expectant look.

"Oh. Right. Yes." Buck stammered and walked up to Tommy holding out his hand. "I'm Evan... E-Evan Buckley."

Tommy smiled as he shook his hand and Buck's knees turned to jello. Again.

"Nice to meet you Evan."

[veritas-scribblings]

disagree / challenge - @jegulus-microfic - words: 972

The door slams behind Regulus. 

James is left standing alone in an empty room in the apartment he shares with Sirius. He doesn’t quite know how they got here. He doesn’t quite know what they’d been arguing about or when the switch had happened, because they’d been holding each other on the couch a moment ago. There had been kisses involved, some friendly jibes, and James had been showing Regulus Sirius’s record collection.

It had been lovely. James had been happy. Thinking to himself, how lucky am I? Thinking, isn’t this wonderful? And, let’s stay like this forever.

And then somehow—he just isn’t sure how—an argument had started, and Regulus had yelled at him, and James had been so taken off-guard that he’d snapped back.

And now Regulus is gone. 

And James just really, really, really wants him to come back. However, if his experience with Blacks are anything to go by—if Sirius can be used as a point of reference—Regulus is just going to need his time and his space. Time and space are precious commodities for Blacks, who very frequently have control taken out of their hands. They can’t be forced to so anything before they’re ready, or they snap and they bite and there are wounds. 

‘Tough break,’ Peter says. He drops down onto the couch next to James and offers him a Bertie Bott.

James wrinkles his nose, because, what are they? Ten? Regulus is unpredictable enough. James doesn’t need his food to be equally unpredictable.

Peter shrugs, pops a bean into his mouth and dramatically gags. He doesn’t spit it out, though. He swallows. James would have a dirty, witty quip about that, normally, but he’s not in the mood. 

‘Hey,’ Peter says, thoughtful. ‘You know when Moony and Padfoot started dating, and they’d always be getting into fights and Sirius would be just doing really shit things? And we were like, what gives? You’ve been…excuse the pun…mooning over Moony for ages and now you’re being an asshat?’ 

James sighs. Peter can never take the direct route to a point, and James is so very tired of the scenic route. He’d like to be infantilised, please. Break it to him easy. Treat him like an idiot. No fucking riddles, thank you very much. 

‘Yes,’ James says, and he hopes that the stress he pours into the word is enough for Peter to just…be fucking direct.

‘Strange that,’ is all that Peter says, and then rifles around in the bag of beans for something that looks vaguely safe. It’s pink. Possibly candy floss.

‘I’ve had a long day, Wormtail, please just get to the point.’ James takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes, hoping that being just a little bit exaggerated about it all gets his point across. 

The bean obviously isn’t candy floss, because Peter wrinkles his nose as he chews and swallows. ‘You’ve read the Sirius Black manual. Think of Regulus as a…smaller, meaner version of Sirius. When Sirius and Remus were having trouble, what did you say?’

James blinks. Frowns. ‘Stop being a git?’

‘Actually, I think the specific words you used were, “stop being a dick head”, but no. After that. What did you say?’

James groans, dropping his head into his hands, because..well, he gets it. They took the scenic route to the point, but they got there in the end and Peter looks damned smug about it all. He always does after dropping words of wisdom. Like he feels like Albus Dumbledore, taking your hand, guiding your way. 

When Peter pops a bean into his mouth, James can’t help the little spark of satisfaction he gets when Peter once more gags.

James waits exactly five hours before going to find Regulus. Probably not enough time, but he’s impatient and he’s been watching the clock. And he just wants to take Regulus in his arms, kiss him, and then tell Regulus he’s an idiot and very, very wrong and James isn’t going anywhere. 

He would have done exactly that, but when Regulus answers the door he still looks angry. The ‘I’ll bite your tongue off if you try to kiss me’ kind of angry. 

So James just says, ‘I’m not going anywhere, so you can stop.’ 

They haven’t been together long and it’s all still so very new to James: Regulus and Regulus’s person, and Regulus’s habits, and Regulus’s beliefs, and Regulus’s unique characteristics. James knows that the Sirius Black Handling Manual will get him partway, but he also knows that Regulus is different enough from Sirius that if James tried to literally call him out on things the way he does with Sirius…

…well, Regulus is enough of a bastard that he will probably actually leave and never come back. Or he’ll kill James. Whichever Regulus felt, that particular day, would be easier for him to deal with.

Regulus doesn’t say anything, just narrows his eyes and stares at James like he could set James on flames with sheer willpower. 

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ James says, very much heartened by the fact that Regulus has not slammed the door in his face. ‘I really like you. I might…’ James pauses, wants to say: I might actually love you, but he doesn’t want to scare Regulus. ‘I might…more than like you. And, couples fight. And, I think you’re worth it, that we’re worth it. You know.’

James wants to say, I believe in you. He wants to say, you deserve love, you’re worthy of it. He wants to say, you don’t need to test me, I won’t leave you.

But he doesn’t. Because while it works with Sirius, he knows it won’t work with Regulus. That to Regulus, actions speak louder, so James will just have to show him.

And not go anywhere.

[selene-moonie]

Jean Kirschtein Simp Post

I love Jean Kirschtein. He had me in the palm of his hand from the moment he challenged Eren for being a suicidal maniac (AND HE WAS RIGHT!!!), and when he debuted in s4, he was basically my husband.

Bless his s4 visuals because he didn't need to look this good, like damn.

Again, Jean calling out Eren for for constantly attempting suicide as well as being irresponsible in his fights got me from the get-go. I watched Eren be irresponsible and I watched everyone else applaud him for being courageous but I don't think they understood that Eren already had little to live for, so it wasn't courage. It was the only option. Eren was fearless for the most part. Jean telling him he's suicidal and irresponsible was refreshing, and it showed that Jean had a better head on his shoulders than most of their cohorts.

Actually, this plays into what Marco told Jean - that he'd would make a good leader. It's because Jean is aware of his surroundings and makes good use of it. Eren on the other hand, bites off more than he can chew then lets his friends clean up his mess. That's why they clash. Jean sees how things can be handled with the least amount of casualties, and Eren fights. And even then, Jean ends up growing up and moving past things with Eren till s4, when Eren becomes a problem again.

Additionally, I love the way Jean loves. Openly, honestly, wholeheartedly. Now, he's a smart man, so he knew not to mess with a girl clearly in love with someone else, but you could see how openly he'd loved Mikasa if they'd gotten together. Like he'd be giddy and happy all the time - because he has the girl he wants. Also, loyalty? Seven years after they met and he was still fantasising about her.

Also Jean can cook. That's just chef's kiss, no pun intended. I love me a man that can cook. And I know he, Connie and Sasha were swapping recipes over the years. They had a ball in the kitchen if Sasha didn't eat everything.

I say this in every post as well - but his friendships with Connie and Sasha humanised him. They matched his energy and took his ass down a peg or 10. They were the siblings he didn't have, but needed. Like you can't tell me he's just some vain/arrogant guy when he has the capability of having deep relationships with others like what he had with Connie and Sasha. I'll this again as well - Sasha never went a day not knowing that Jean and Connie had her back.

But yeah, seeing him go from this arrogant little teenage shit, to a capable man was a sight to behold. All his dreams were crushed and he changed course. He wanted to be best best, and he ended up being one of the best (can't beat Annie and Mikasa). His friend that hyped him up the most? Dead - titan vomit. The girl he loved? In love with someone else. Becoming military police? A waste of his skills in light of the real fight being with the titans. The high rise apartment? Probably still a possibility, but when do they actually live in their homes as soldiers? Jean had some of the best character development I've seen in fucking ages.

One of the things I resonated with the most was the fact that he kept fighting. He kept moving forward. Even when he'd cover his ears and fantasise about his high rise apartment in Wall Sheena with Mikasa and their child - he'd get up and deal with reality. Do you know how fucking hard that is? When you have a real and genuine fear of what life is, and you still get up to face it - that's true courage. That's something I'll admire till the day I die.

Now that we're done talking about his personality, let's talk looks because his s4 visuals were absolute fucking crack. I don't know what Isayama put into his visuals, but he did it right. Honestly everyone looked great but due to my attraction to Jean, he looked even better. The mullet he'd slick back? Just his looks in general? Absolute fucking crack, and I am just an addict. Jean is the full package. The full fucking package.

I have this headcanon (basically a modern au) that he likes expensive cologne and has a somewhat meticulous grooming routine. He cooks a lot, and it's like French restaurant quality, but he'll never forget his humble omurice roots. As an individual, he's cool and respectful, but it's always chaos with Connie and Sasha. He's a private person and excels in his dedicated career/job, and be he loves openly. He doesn't hide who he loves or that he loves them. Like, he's a person at the end of the day, but just a really cool one. Also he's responsible.

Anyway yeah, Jean Kirschtein is perfection incarnate and I stand by that.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my SO to do something that they have trauma around?

I don't know when this will be posted but as of writing we are about 2 weeks post valentines day. Ages and genders irrelevant, we're in our 20s and queer.

So I have not been with Jordan long, but we knew each out for a few months as friends before we got together, and have been close pretty much all of the time we've known each other. This is to say, I know them pretty well despite us not actually having been dating that long.

Because we were already friends I knew going into the relationship, without Jordan specifically saying anything, that they had plans on Valentines day. They got tickets to a concert I wasn't interested in a decent amount of time before we got together.

Obviously, not an issue in the slightest, and neither of us brought up anything regarding Valentines day. It was a week day, so I was working all day, and then the time of the concert meant there was no possibility of meeting up after, just not meant to be this year. I thought we were in the same boat just silently agreeing that the timing wasn't right but that it wasn't a big enough deal to even be worth bringing up, especially in such a new relationship.

Some backstory on me: I'm a hopeless romantic and have a kind of cute aesthetic? I like dressing in bright colours, and some of my favourite outfits have prints of hearts, flowers, and cherries. Needless to say I really enjoy the aesthetic of Valentines day, and I've always kind of fantasised about being able to spend it with someone I have romantic feelings for. I've only had two romantic relationships before this and the first one only lasted 6 months and didn't make it to Valentines day, and in the second we both contracted the same bug and were horribly sick throughout February.

Obviously I don't think you should only do things for your SO on Valentines day, but I think it would be fun to have the chance to really get into it! In the past I've organised Valentines day events with my other single friends where we dress in pink and have heart shaped foods etc and those have been great, but haven't quite satisfied my desire to have a Romantic Valentines.

So, despite the fact that my SO was busy, I wanted to do a little something. I do digital art, so when I got home from work I drew a pun Valentines card featuring Jordan's favourite character. It took a few hours and I was pretty proud of how it came out. I knew they were at the concert still, but I texted it to them, so they could see it after.

They responded that night and their first message was just "oh." I've known Jordan long enough that i read the tone to be "oh, now I to have a conversation I didn't want to have." They went on to explain that they associate Valentines day with some past trauma. I won't give any details here, but the tone of the conversation was that they don't celebrate Valentines day because of their trauma, and this seemed like a very final stance.

Now. I don't think I'm TA for drawing the art and sending it, this had never been brought up before, so I didn't know I was crossing a boundary.

I do think Jordan is slightly TA for not saying anything about my art that I worked hard on, but only slightly bc I assume the trauma response just kind of took over.

But my question is, WIBTA if I asked my SO to celebrate Valentines day with me in future even though it's something they have trauma around?

I'm not planning to force them or anything and it doesn't even have to be in the next few years, but thinking long term it feels really gloomy to me to have to miss out on Valentines forever when my SO could be making new memories with me so that mentions of the holiday are less painful.

I don't expect them to just "get over" it magically or anything but I want to ask if it's something they'd possibly want to work up to? I swear I'm not trying to be dismissive their response is fully valid and I don't want to imply my silly fantasies are more important than their traumatic reality I just want to know if this would be an asshole move or not.

What are these acronyms?

[pdriesta]

PROLOGUE

“how can i move on when i’m still in love with you”

genres — angst, angst, and more angst. suggestive.

word count — 1.5k (for prologue)

summary — two years ago, pedri shattered his childhood best friend's heart by ending their relationship. he was her first kiss, first boyfriend, and first love. now, as she prepares to start fresh while pursuing her master's degree, pedri reappears with a single mission: to mend the heart he once broke. can she trust him again, or will their past define their future?

an — repost! i accidentally deleted my blog so before i release anything new, i’m gonna repost my series’s. if this is your first time reading, let me know if you’re interested in a taglist!

masterlist

“papi, look, a football pitch!” you screeched from the backseat of your parents' car. the volume of your voice caused your sister to cup her ears beside you.

“yes, mi princesa. right in your backyard you have a pitch,” your dad chuckled from the driver’s seat.

even at just six years old, football consumed your life. your mom credited your father for all the times he yelled at the tv during matches. however, the moment that changed your life was the day your dad took you and your sister to the camp nou for the first time. you swore you fell in love with the sport on the spot. the energy, the passion, and the movement of the players had you hooked.

your parents couldn’t help but smile at the happiness in your voice while absorbing your new surroundings. the move seemed sudden to you and your sister, but after your brother, rafael, was born, it made sense to move away from the city.

you roamed your surroundings and watched the houses from the window before the car came to a halt. one by one, your family barreled out of the car and stood in front of your new home.

your parents smiled while holding rafa between them. their happiness was infectious; even caro couldn’t hold back her smile.

your parents shooed both of you to the park a few meters from your home, the same one with the football pitch. you ran in front of your older sister to the pitch and saw a group of boys playing together. you watched in awe as the boys moved up and down the pitch. however, there was one boy who caught your eye; he seemed about your age and was wearing the same shirt your dad had of his favorite club.

you knew from the shirt alone you had to become friends with him one way or another. so deep in thought, you didn’t recognize the ball hurtling toward your head. it all happened too fast for your little brain to process, and it didn’t hit you (pun intended) until you found yourself looking at the sky on your back.

“hermana!” your sister dropped to her knees. your cheeks heated as you began to get surrounded by the boys who were playing on the pitch.

your sister made sure you were okay before getting up and reprimanding the boys for being so reckless as to hit her little sister.

“are you okay?” you heard from beside you as you turned to see the boy with the top from earlier. you froze, not knowing why the words escaped you.

the boy seemed even more nervous at your silence. without thinking, he placed his hand on your forehead just like his mom would do, causing you to break your silence with a giggle. you quickly nodded, showing you were okay, and then looked down at your hands, suddenly becoming shy. you’d never been this close to a boy before, especially a boy who looked about your age.

“do you like barça?” you finally whispered. you’ve always been shy around new people but felt the need to speak to him because of their shared love for the club on his shirt.

meeting his face finally, you witnessed his face light up like a tree on christmas.

“yes, i love barca. one day i’m going to play for them!” he exclaimed.

“me too!” you squealed, matching his excitement.

“my name is pedro gonzález lópez, and we are going to be best friends starting today,” he proclaimed while extending his hand to help you up.

“and just like that, barcelona reclaimed the league title for the 27th time,” you heard echo from your position behind the counter.

you wiped down the counter for the fifth time to avoid glancing up at the screen. you thought your actions would go unnoticed until you felt a poke at your side. looking next to you, your mom gave you a pointed look, the same look she always gave when hinting about him.

“you know rosa and the family are at the game,” she mentioned for the fifth time. over the past two years since your breakup, your families remained close. as expected, rosa and your mother became best friends through countless playdates and sleepovers over the years.

“yes, mami. i remember from the last five times you mentioned it,” you replied, using humor to disguise your annoyance.

it's been easy to avoid pedri over the years. it was a dance you were familiar with by now. when the season was over and he would return to tenerife, you would visit from the mainland. once you knew he was gone was when you would return. your sister, carolina, has made it clear how childish she thinks you are being, but you have shown no sign of stopping anytime soon.

“you must be so proud of pedrito,” your mom settled on.

of course, you were. god, you were so proud of the player he has become. even though it kills you to think of how far he has gotten without you. he was right, he didn’t need me.

“mami, por favor,” you pleaded. no matter how long has passed since that day, the lump in your throat and ache in your heart never faded.

the gleam in your mom’s eye dimmed, deciding to drop the topic. she took the cloth from you and motioned for you to head to the back while she served the patrons who lined up during your brief encounter. you trudged to the kitchen and slumped into the nearest seat. finally, being away from the buzz of your family’s cafe, you took a deep breath.

the past hour and a half of seeing him on tv had your thoughts racing a million miles per hour. why is it so hard for you to get over him? it has been two years, and he has been seen with women countless times; you cannot understand why you are so stuck on him. no matter how hard you try, your mind always goes back to that dire day.

“i think we should break up,” pedri said as soon as you opened the door to your home. it took you a few moments to truly understand his words.

“what?” you spoke a little lower than a whisper.

“i think we should break up,” he repeated while stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“i heard; i guess what i meant is why? is it something i’ve done?” your hands began to shake. pedri noticed and lifted his hands towards your hands; he had to hold himself back from grabbing your hands like he usually did when you grew anxious.

“no, no, mi vida, you’re perfect,” he rushed out, taking a step toward you.

“obviously not, if you’re breaking up with me,” you huffed, taking a step away from him and wrapping your arms around yourself instead. pedri dropped his hands in defeat, needing a moment to proceed.

“it’s not you, it’s—” you interjected, “let me guess, it’s you? you can save me the movie-type excuse, pedro.”

he could see the hurt in your eyes, and he cursed himself for his actions. even after thinking about this moment over the week and rehearsing it, nothing could have prepared him for seeing your heartbreak in front of his eyes.

“corazón, the distance has been killing me, and i know it’s hurting you. with your schooling and your family’s cafe, you have so much on your plate. let alone, i hardly get to see you because of the season. you know how hard it’s been adjusting to the team.”

you understood completely. going from his boyhood club to one of the biggest clubs in the world has taken pedri and his family by storm. suddenly, he was under a huge magnifying glass where his performances determined whether fans hated or loved him.

“if you need me to come to more games, i can do that. please just let me know how to help you. this can’t be the answer,” you finally entered his space and grasped his hands in your own—desperate for his warmth.

“it is hard to support each other while being two thousand kilometers away,” pedri settled on while gazing deeply into your tear-filled eyes. “what about your classes? your family’s business? your life is here while mine is in barcelona.”

“pedro, i love you. is that not enough to overcome this distance?”

pedri, even though it hurt him, never broke eye contact with you. he brought his hand to the back of your neck and brought his thumb to caress your cheek the way he always did. if this was the last time he got to touch you, he wanted to savor it.

“i love you; i think i always have and always will. but loving each other is not enough.”

you couldn’t hold back your tears as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek before stepping away from you for good.

you laughed at yourself, how pathetic. he is achieving his dreams while you replay this day more times than you’d care to admit.

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Mars in pisces blurred lines . ♓️ 🐟 🐠

Here we go again with Mars in pisces because it didn’t let me do it last time well it didn’t let me upload it I put so much effort into it guys like I did with the whole Mars series and really went into detail but this time it is going to work believe me now when we talk about Mars in places we talk about boundaries and lines being blurred think about the song blurred lines by Robin Thicke. That song became such a controversy because of it um basically some people believed it was about rape and how lines are being played and who are seeing what’s going on and the ironic thing is that sounds like is 11 years old now nearly I wanna say it probably is 11 years old I think it came out at the beginning of 2014 so I remember when I remember the video of rodakowski and the lot. On the naked version with Pharrell but Robin more than places also and he did the song blurred lines his dad is somebody called Alan thick from a program called family ties .Anyway this song is about bloodlines as we know so here's some examples of people who have their Mars in pisces.

Starting strong Elizabeth Taylor now for me Elizabeth Taylor was always like my favorite old Hollywood person but here’s the big **** with Mars in pisces which people online on the discord that a lot of people do not like pisces placements I have noticed it could be because I have a pisces ex and it’s coming on my for you page I don’t know but it seems prevalent that people joke about Mars in pisces and we wonder why why is this. Well it could be little things or it could be big things so Elizabeth Taylor she had a big Hollywood career in the golden age of Hollywood they called it from around the 1930s to around the 1970s I believe. Anyway I think she was evil with MGM will golden mayor with the horrible leader of that Louis B Mayer. Who was very nasty to people like Judy Garland and Marilyn Monroe. I saw online recently as well that she was allegedly jealous of Marilyn Elizabeth well Elizabeth had many marriages so this could be the deception part with pisces because with pisces it can be very sneaky they’re almost like covert narcissists some degree.

Now hear me out don’t hate me places cause I don’t hate you I’m just going through the Mars signs and like some signs works and others don’t and I particularly don’t like Mars placements in astrology anyway because I have a day chart and Mars transits are generally quite tricky for me and I just I don’t like my own Mars placement so right yeah she had a multiple places and she had a very extravagant lifestyle with a couple of her husbands her first marriage she got with one of the Hiltons I think anyway she had a very abusive first marriage that she had to escape she was very young I feel like she was about 18 years old maximum I think she might have had two boys with this man as well. Now the blurred lines here could be between marriages she was married to the Hilton guy then she was married to Mike Todd, eddie fisher, Richard Burton a senator Richard Burton again and Larry some Jewish name. I think she married him after she left rehab which was quite different for her because he wasn't her usual sort of type he wasn't executive so maybe she went for something different..... but somebody I think Barbara Walters even asked her was she addicted to marriage and I think she answered no she goes I think that’s just what you did back then you love someone you got with them you married and she was asked did you think it would work every time. Ohh yes you don’t get an A marriage not for it to work. she says. So I truly believe as a pisces she probably fell for it hook line and sinker excuse the pun... and they caught her like a fish but I don’t believe that she loved all these men the same she loved Mike Todd and Richard Burton the most and they at the time helped with our extravagant lifestyle, they bought her nice jewels took her on holidays they did drugs together they drank loads of alcohol all over the world went all over the world to different places had an extreme lifestyle and they were known for it. Harry and Richard where she fell in love with him on the set of Cleopatra now Eddie Fisher is a bit of a weird one because she was best friends with Debbie Reynolds who was married to Eddie Fisher and when Mike Todd died he came to comfort her where Carrie Fisher another Mars in pisces, said he went to my Elizabeth’s side and then to her front. Which was quite funny. But the themes of drugs in this placement is very prevalent even the ones who don't like to admit they're doing it to some degree and they can even shame other people for their addictions and fables I know my dad does certainly but that could be his Virgo moon Virgo moons can be quite cruel when they want to be too, he’s got very similar hook-ups to me and his chart. Like moon opposition Mars. Anyway I’m going off track here a little bit so yeah Elizabeth lived an extravagant lifestyle but she was the first person to go to the Betty Ford clinic who is a celebrity.... which was big back then she was also the first to do a celebrity perfume now Aries are always first to do things in situations and her Venus is in Aries. Her and Marilyn both have their Venus in Aries and Mars in Pisces. Now the deception there could be of the Jews the marriages etcetera etcetera.

Then you have Lisa Marie Presley who’s another person with their martin pisces who got with Michael Jackson who has a lot of pisces and ..,That’s what everyone else is saying at the time also... because she didn’t fit the type everybody thought he was a child abuser but personally I’m pretty sure Diana Ross did that to Michael Jackson.

Anyway more deception let’s go with Marilyn Monroe Mars in pisces now she’s in every girl’s bedroom across the world. Fears that one figure that men and women love alike where does the deception lie with Marilyn. Well the deception with Marilyn was the way she was treated by others I believe the Kennedys, allegedly Fidel Castro and many other powerful institutions so these were the blade lines between Marilyn they used her for sexual favours and in the movie blonde although it’s very disrespectful it shows how young Marilyn would have been treated in Hollywood so in a way it was very truthful people were hurt because it was painful to watch. So I think the deception with Marilyn and lies between drugs studio heads and the people who abused her those were the blurred lines between who she was as a person the full stop and she was such a wonderful person so likeable so beautiful so charitable she even set up her own company like.

Elizabeth Taylor did exactly the same with her aides found HIV and AIDS foundation, where she has had family members continue on I think with this. So a lot of these people people I know in real life as well like to give to charity and they like to help people less fortunate than them. Not all the time but look how Paris did it with Provo Canyon and we fell in love with Paris all over again in 2021 when she did that documentary and we realised that her mum is a cold hearted ditch and ironically her mum’s a pisces which really shocked me because she’s very cold. She must have a lot of earth in her chart I’m going to have I look at it after I’ve posted this for the third time.Let’s see where we get with this but like I said the deception with Elizabeth is with her marriages and her drug use and alcohol use with Richard Burton where the lines get blurred in fact this title should be called blurred lines.. because I know people in real life obviously my dad has his Mars in pisces and he.. be a covert narcissist well more of a malignant narcissist at times I fill with water placements in Mars you don't really ever get to know them. you don't know who they really are.. so this is me doing it for the third time it’s not as in detail because I don’t want to lose it all again and this is my take on Mars and pisces. I mean then you could look at Paris and say how she was made fun of a lot in the 2000s as well as having the perfect body she was also made fun of and people would do parodies of Paris and her songs but I actually think Paris is a really nice girl.. she was in her 20s when all that stuff was going on with Brandon Davis and Lindsay Lohan worried thought she was out of order for laughing but I would have done the same as the 20 year old girl probably. And here’s another bloodline with parish sex tape one night in Paris. By Rick Solomon who is a lot older than her and she says she thinks she might have either just been underage or only just legal and he was like bragging about it on Howard Stern yeah it was just sick so be aware when you watch that she’s underage probably when you just legal. With Paris I don’t actually think she set out to release it like Kim did so that’s probably where they’re fallout came from because for a Hilton that ruined their reputation but for a Kardashian it was a money maker .

[melodygatesauthor]

The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story

dbf!Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

Suggested reading order - Marc -> Steven -> Jake -

Steven's Story - Jake's Story

Summary:

You've just graduated college and you find yourself developing feelings for your dad's best friend after your graduation party. Three different versions of the same story all with different boys.

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

NSFW, age gap (reader is about 22 - boys are 40), reader is not race-coded, reader graduated college in America but isn't necessarily American, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, dbf trope, oral sex, coercion (sort of on both sides), Jake being Jake, Marc being Marc, Steven being Steven, forbidden relationship, forbidden sex, blowjob, mild bondage, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, car sex, bad puns

Word Count: 9.4k (apparently I can't write anything short anymore)

You got out of the Uber when it stopped in front of your childhood home. Your dad was already waiting for you by the front door, smiling wide. He came over with his arms out, pulling you into a big hug. You grunted from the tight squeeze.

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

“I sweetie.” He let go of you and looked you over. “How was the ride from the airport?” He started taking two of your bags out of the trunk and walking back toward the house with you in tow.

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

“Well, hope you’re not too tired cause there’s a few people here to see you.”

He opened the front door and you were greeted by several relatives and family friends in the kitchen. They all shouted, congratulations! at once, holding up an assortment of beer bottles and glasses of wine. Knowing your dad, the drinking had been going on for a couple of hours before you arrived.

“Thanks everyone,” you said with a big smile, feeling a little shy having all those eyes on you.

You noticed the black and gold, congrats graduate, banner adorning the wall above the table in the dining area. With the initial excitement over, the crowd dissipated and you watched everyone start mingling once again. Your cousins came up to you and started exchanging quick updates on their lives while everyone else chattered around you throughout the house.

“What do you think, huh?” Your dad asked, coming up behind you while you admired the cake in the center of the dining table. He handed you a mixed drink.

“Dad, this is really great. There’s so many people! I really wasn’t expecting this when you said we were having a graduation barbecue. Thought maybe only a couple people would show up.” You looked to see your aunt talking with one of your dad’s friends in the living room.

“You know me better than that. Not everyday your kid graduates college,” he patted your back proudly, “shit, gotta go check the grill. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, you watched your aunt and your dad’s friend finish their conversation. You’d known Marc since you were a kid, but it had been a long time since you’d seen each other. He came over to you and held up his beer as if to say cheers. He still looked so rough around the edges, just how you always remembered him. You looked him up and down, trying not to make it seem too obvious.

Has he been working out?

“Congrats. College…wow.” He took a swig off his beer bottle, “all grown up.”

You gave him a nervous giggle, “yeah, I guess.” You felt inexplicably shy all of a sudden, you tried to make small talk, “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

He shrugged, “been keeping busy, staying out of trouble,” he gulped some of his beer down and then looked at you with those brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when the light hit them just right.

You felt your cheeks getting flush for what felt like, at the time, nothing worth getting flustered over. Marc was handsome, anyone could see that, but you’d never looked at him that way. He’d always just been your dad’s best friend. Then again, he’d never looked at you like that. Were you imagining things? He seemed to be sneaking glances at different parts of your body. His eyes trekked over your neck, down to the crevice of your slightly low cut shirt, beyond your denim jeans and finally onto the floor which is when he rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous.

“Still fixing toilets?” You sipped your drink, trying to change the subject quickly.

“Yeah…well…sort of. I do all kinds of handyman stuff, not just toilets. I also do home inspections.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it over to you.

You read the print and huffed out a laugh at the obvious pun.

Marc Spector

The Home In-Spector

“It’s dumb I know.” He rolled his eyes, taking another drink.

You raised an eyebrow, “I think it’s clever. Definitely memorable.” Someone called your name from outside, interrupting the casual conversation. “Oh, I gotta go, see you around, Marc.”

“Yeah…you too.”

After several hours and a few drinks later, you were sitting around the firepit with only your dad, one of your cousins and Marc. You remembered the roaring laughter over a dumb joke that Marc made at your expense. You grumbled and gave him the finger. You weren’t actually upset, and had a hard time keeping yourself from bursting out into laughter as well. Marc flipped you off in return and smiled at you. Marc’s smile was so fucking beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before tonight how good looking he was? This feeling you had was so wrong…but you wanted him so badly all of a sudden. It had to be the alcohol, that was the only explanation.

A little while later, you were tipsy and felt your eyelids closing involuntarily, no matter how hard you tried to keep them open.

They closed again, and when you opened them this time, it was only you and Marc left around the fire.

Closed again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sudden movement stirred you awake. You were being carried by a set of strong arms. Did your dad come back to get you? No. He would’ve woken you up so you could walk to bed. You wrapped your arms around the man’s shoulders and buried your face in his neck. Marc, you thought.

He smelled warm, like he’d been in the sun all day. Your lips brushed the soft skin there, and you felt a strong sense of comfort wash over you. Alcohol had a way of making you forget to filter your emotions, and right now you were hoping Marc would never let go. You didn’t know why you felt that way. None of it made sense. It’s not like he’d made any sort of pass at you during your growing up, and he had certainly been respectful all night.

So why did you feel like you wanted him to fill you up with everything he had?

It had to be the alcohol. You drank too much, and it was making you feel flirty, and foolish, like you didn’t care about the consequences of any bad decisions you might be inclined to make. Marc sat you down on your bed. You didn’t lay down yet, you just sat there, clutching his shirt so he couldn’t walk away. He grabbed your wrist and looked down at you through his own hooded and intoxicated gaze.

“Marc,” you said softly.

He knelt down, eyes level with yours, “what?”

You looked between his eyes. What did you want from him? Did you expect him to throw away a friendship that was older than you’d been on the planet so that you could fulfill this seemingly random and new feeling? If you would just let go of his damn shirt, he could leave and you would go to bed. It was so simple, but you felt an ache between your legs and a burning desire for him that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Don’t go, please.”

He gave you a gentle smirk, “I have to go to bed,” his smile almost killed you, “you gotta let go of my–”

“Take care of me first…don’t you know what you did to me?”

You were both breathing so heavily, and his eyes kept darting to your lips. You weren’t sure who dove in first, but you both started kissing each other hungrily, motions made sloppier from the alcoholic influence you were both under. Marc continued to claim every moan that left your mouth while you guided his hand down to the waist of your pants. He tucked his thick fingers in and felt between your soaking wet folds.

“Holy shit,” he commented in a breathy rasp, “did I really make you that fuckin’ wet? How long have you felt this way about me?”

“A long time,” you lied.

You always had found him attractive. Objectively speaking, Marc was a good looking man. Regarding wanting to let him take you on every surface in your childhood home? That feeling was brand new to you. Something between the drunken fogginess and the sweet way he carried you changed something in your DNA. You needed him…badly.

All too suddenly, Marc gained a conscience. He pulled his hand free from your pants, and backed away from you quickly. He looked you up and down, running a hand through his hair, eyes plagued with guilt. It was all too clear that this fantasy of yours was over. Whatever this moment was that the intoxication had afforded you, ended with some sense of clarity that tore through Marc.

“No, no.”

That was all he could say, not one word more before he left your room in haste. He didn’t need to say anything else. You knew deep down you were dumb for thinking Marc would actually do anything with you. You knew that was a one-time thing, and that he would want to go about as though it never happened. For your father’s sake, you would take an oath of silence, despite the feelings you were keeping buried deep.

----

The next morning at breakfast, Marc had flat out refused to make eye contact with you. Even when you asked him to pass the orange juice, he kept his head down when handing it to you over the turntable. You scowled when you took it from him, but took the bottle without added drama. Of course you understood that things were awkward, but if he kept treating you like you didn’t exist, that was even weirder. If he thought blatantly avoiding you in front of your dad wasn’t suspicious, he was sorely mistaken.

The moment your father went up to use the bathroom, you took the opportunity to talk to Marc who, at that moment, was clenching his jaw and pretending to look at his phone. The man still used a Motorola flip phone. You couldn’t imagine there was anything very interesting on a phone without internet access, unless he was trying to avoid you deliberately.

“Marc, I’m not going to say anything to him or anyone, but you acting like this is more suspicious than if we fucked on the table in front of him so–”

“Can you please watch your mouth. Don’t say things like that.” He said in a harsh whisper, “I just don’t want to think about it, alright?” His thick Chicago accent always came out when he got irritated.

“I’m fine with that, I just mean…you’re not being very subtle. Just pretend nothing happened and treat me like I exist…please.”

When your dad came back downstairs, Marc seemed to make a better effort to act like he always did around you, and it worked. Even you had a couple moments where you almost forgot that there was something awkward between you two. You kept reminding yourself it was only a kiss, and it was only a kiss, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want so much more.

----

For two weeks you fought off thoughts about your dad’s best friend. You tried so hard not to think about the way his arms felt carrying you up to bed the other night; so hard not to think about the way he smelled when you had your face buried in his neck; you tried so fucking hard not to think about the way his fingers felt brushing over your clit while he kissed you so passionately.

You were surprised when your father left for work and only a couple of hours later, Marc arrived. You didn’t know he was there, and nearly screamed when you heard him whistling downstairs as you were stepping out of the shower. You peered out the window and saw his truck with his company logo on the side. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn’t a burglar in your home, but that initial fear was quickly replaced with an anxiety that you couldn’t shake. The only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel his lips on yours again.

After you changed into your shorts and a tanktop, you decided to make your way downstairs to see why he was there in the first place. Marc was laying under the sink, cabinet doors open on either side of him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps flexed under the tight t-shirt he wore, and the dark trail of hair that disappeared under the waist of his pants on his exposed abdomen.

“Marc.” You said gently, as though hearing your voice any volume higher might send him into a rage.

He froze, letting out an exasperated sigh that split through the room. He clanked some of his tools and grunted as he sat up to look at you. He held a furrowed brow, daring you to say something about the night you shared two weeks ago; daring you to bring the memory of that deep shame back to the forefront of his mind. You found yourself having a hard time speaking all of a sudden.

“Look, your dad asked me to come by and fix a few things, just stay out of my way and–”

“M-my air conditioner isn’t working and I was hoping you could take a look at it.” You spat your words out so fast you weren’t sure if he would even be able to understand you.

There was, of course, nothing wrong with your air conditioner, but you wanted to get Marc in your room, alone again, if only for a second. He stood up, aggravation still apparent in his furrowed brow.

“Your ac is broken?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “what’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that your job? I just need you to look at it.”

He grabbed his toolbelt off the ground and followed you up the stairs with a look that told you he was unimpressed, and hardly believed that you needed him to actually fix something. When you got to your room, he went to the window where your perfectly functioning air conditioner sat, and you silently latched the door behind yourself. You felt it getting harder to breathe.

He turned the air conditioner on to test it, learning immediately that he’d been tricked into going up there. He turned slowly, brow furrowed in frustration. Despite his obvious aggravation, you noticed the quick shift of his eyes taking in your frame before looking back at your face. He crossed his arms tightly, scowling at you.

“The hell are you trying to pull huh?” His accent came out in his peeved tone. He walked up to you, but you stayed firmly in front of the door. “Move.”

You looked up at him, “Marc please, I can’t stop thinking about you since we kissed.”

He grabbed your shoulders roughly and you thought he might slot his lips over yours in a flurry of breathless kisses, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to scolding you as though you were a child, which only served to piss you off.

“It was a drunk mistake that never should’ve happened. I let it go, you should too,” his voice was low and harsh.

It was crushing to hear that he wasn’t even going to entertain the thought, though it wasn’t exactly a surprise. You weren’t sure what you’d expected. Marc was always trying to do what he considered to be the right thing, and now was no different. You were his best friend’s daughter. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything with you. But when you looked over at his flexing biceps on either side of you, and felt the strength in the way his hands held onto your shoulders, you couldn’t help the way you wanted him.

“I can’t. I…I think about you almost every night.”

There was another cold silence, save for the hum of the air conditioner that was still working exceptionally well. You weren’t normally so forward, but it was true. Despite your attempts to not think about him since your encounter, you’d failed. Most nights since then were spent with your fingers two knuckles deep in your soaking wet cunt, thinking about all the ways you wanted Marc to take you under your father’s roof.

“You’re stupid you know that? Just stop, you’re my friend’s kid. He know you act like this? Huh?”

If his tone wasn’t evidence enough that he was through with the conversation, his actions were. Marc moved you aside by force and then made a quick escape from your house. He hadn’t even finished working on the sink downstairs. You wondered if Marc was going to tell your dad about your conversation that day, but when your dad got home that night, he never said a word about it. You tried to move on, despite the ache in your chest.

----

You wondered if Marc would ever come back to your house again, until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he was coming back to finish the sink. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about it. Your dad left, and you rushed around getting ready for Marc to show up. You knew he’d told you to back off, but thoughts of him continued to plague your mind and you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

What the hell am I gonna wear, you asked yourself.

It was foolish to think about what you were going to wear in a silly attempt at seducing your dad’s best friend. You couldn’t even begin to understand why you were attempting to seduce your dad’s best friend. It was obvious that he didn’t want you, he’d pushed you out of the way the other day. That didn’t stop you from wondering what it would feel like to brush your lips over the soft skin of his throat again. It didn’t stop you from thinking about what his thick fingers would feel like stretching out your pussy while you dug your nails into his toned shoulders.

When he finally arrived, you waited to make sure he was working before you went downstairs. You were silent, knowing that alerting him to your presence might make him run off. You’d chosen to wear a short little skirt, a tank-top, and you opted out of your bra and panties. You needed to make it as easy as you could for him to take what he wanted from you. Despite the way he pushed you away, you knew he wanted you.

He was working hard, twisting a wrench around one of the pipes. His arm obstructed his view so he didn’t see you coming. Without a word, and without his knowing, you walked over to him, standing on either side of his thighs. He noticed you when you dropped to your knees, straddling him. He looked at you with that signatured furrowed brow.

“What the…you’re starting to be a real fuckin’ problem, you know that?” His voice was dark and threatening.

“Am I?” You asked in a coy tone, dragging your cunt over his crotch, feeling the brush of the denim against your clit.

He sat up fast, and you thought he might shove you off of him, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand grabbed your hip firmly. You gasped when his face got close to yours, eyes narrowed and wracked with guilt. His nose brushed against yours. You felt your hips involuntarily rock against the growing bulge behind his jeans.

“What’s it gonna take for you to let this go, huh?” He used one hand to push your skirt back while the other slid up your inner thigh. “What’s it gonna take for you to stop this shit?”

You put both of your hands on his shoulders for stability. His fingers found your folds and you felt your entire body surge with desire. Marc’s chest rumbled when he leaned in to steal your moans in a mess of deep kisses. His grasp on your thigh was so tight it left divots in your skin. He pulled you forward, sliding his middle finger deep into your channel.

“Fuck, I get you that worked up?” He said against your lips.

You hummed an affirmative into his mouth. He slid another finger in, and already you felt the delicious stretch of his thick digits testing your hole. It was a tight fit, two that is, and it felt better than you could’ve dreamed. If you’d known it was going to be like this, you might’ve been more persistent when he came up to your room the week before. He curved them, touching that sweet spot that made you whine in response.

“Where are all the boys your age? Why aren’t you going after them, hm? You like pissing me off?”

You didn’t want to answer him, because the truth was stupid. You didn’t care about the “boys your age”. Most of them wouldn’t know their way around a pussy if you had an arrow pointing to all the important parts for them. They also didn’t know you like Marc did. Marc was there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to judge your prom date with a threatening glare if the guy ever tried to hurt you, and he was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to properly use your pepper spray keychain.

He was there for you now when you were wet and dripping down his wrist while moaning one desperately hungry kiss after another over his lips. The third finger hurt a little, but the ache of the burn became more bearable the more he worked in and out of you. Marc brought his face to your throat, leaving soft kisses there that had your cunt fluttering over his thick fingers.

“M-Marc I’m…I’m so close I–”

“Sh, just shut up. Don’t want to hear it.”

You didn’t know if it was the guilt causing him to act so cruel, but it didn’t matter to you at that moment. You were there, seconds from sweet release, but the beep of a car door locking froze you both to your core. Marc pulled his hand from you, leaving you feeling empty. You stood fast and ran up the stairs quickly, leaving Marc down there to deal with your father. You felt bad, but knew he could handle it.

When you got to your room, you could hear them start talking downstairs.

“Hey Marc!” Your dad said as he walked in, “how’s it coming?”

You heard Marc huff out a laugh, “it’s not.”

----

It would be a lie to say you weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Marc coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. You wondered if he was excited too, or if he wished that he’d never met your dad now that things had become more complicated between the two of you. Complicated wasn’t even the right word for it, it wasn’t like this was something you did regularly. You hadn’t even seen him since he fingered you by the sink two weeks ago. He seemed to be limiting his time spent at your house those days.

You understood, you weren’t stupid, but at the same time it didn’t change how badly you wanted to see him again. In fact, most days, he was all you thought about. Something about him was intoxicating. Maybe it was the danger of getting caught? Or perhaps it was the thrill of something new? It could also be the fact that he was older, and you had a feeling he knew exactly how to make you come undone like no one ever had before.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He ran his hand over his face and crossed his arms over his chest. You felt your heart rate picking up.

“I’m just here to check in on you, I don’t want any funny business.” He said firmly.

You gulped, and nodded, “okay, yeah that’s…I understand.”

He dropped his hands to his pockets. You watched his entire body relax before your eyes. While you understood that he didn’t want to continue the little thing you two had going on, it didn’t change the fact that you still wanted him, badly. Marc’s face looked irritated, nothing new there, but there was a mild softness to his brow.

“Well, I’m just watching this dumb movie…do you wanna watch with me?” You gestured to the other side of the couch.

Marc sighed before nodding and walking over to sit as far from you as possible on the other side of the couch. You pressed play and sat in silence for some time. Just being in his presence was making your mind buzz. You couldn’t stop replaying him fingering you by the sink on repeat in your head. When you looked over at him, his eyes were trained on the television, not because he was interested, no, it was painfully clear that he was trying to avoid eye contact with you. You couldn’t sit there anymore. The ache between your legs was growing and if you didn’t go take care of it, you were going to do something to upset him.

“I have to use the bathroom, you don’t need to pause, I'll be right back.”

You went upstairs and closed the bathroom door behind yourself. You knew it would be suspicious if you spent too much time in there, but at the very least you needed to clean yourself up. You were soaked, so wet that you probably left a mark on the couch downstairs and you didn’t know what to do. What if he saw it? Surely he’d be upset if he thought you might be thinking about him again.

When you were finished wiping up, you opened the door. You were fully prepared to go down there and tell him to leave, but you didn’t make it that far. He was standing right outside the bathroom door, eyes looking you over like he might devour you.

“Marc I–”

He stole your next words when he slotted his lips over yours. Your mind went blank, focusing only on the way his tongue tasted when it entangled with yours. His hands grabbed your shoulders, sliding down until he found purchase on your hips. A soft moan slipped through your lips while you brought your hands to the waistband of his pants. You weren’t going to beat around the bush this time, you knew exactly what you wanted and you intended to take it. 

You brushed your fingers over his pubic hair, relishing the way it felt against your skin. Marc lifted you by your rear, and you were forced to grab his broad shoulders for stability. He carried you to your room and gently laid you down on the bed, never disconnecting his lips from yours. Marc started grinding his hips against you, the hard prod of his erection apparent through his jeans.

“This what you wanted from me?” He looked at you with a combination of anger, guilt, and lust, “think you can even handle it?”

You whined, “yes, I need it, please Marc.”

In a blur, you and Marc got your clothes off so your bare chests were against each other. His skin was deceptively soft. The feeling of his thick cock gliding over your inner thigh was maddening. You arched your back upward and brought your hands around the base of Marc’s neck. He used both of his hands to pin your wrists down above your head.

“You turned out to be such a fuckin’ brat you know that?” He was almost growling out his words.

“Guess you’ll have to put me in my place-OH SHIT!”

Marc thrust himself into you and buried his face in your neck. You weren’t quiet while he moved at an unforgiving pace. His lips dragged over your throat, leaving soft kisses in their wake. The juxtaposition of between his harsh fucking and tender kissing was making your mind go blank. Everything he did felt so good, better than you could’ve imagined. You still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Marc-feels so good fuck-yes!” You shouted through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I bet it does honey, bet it feels really fucking good. You happy now? You glad you got me to fuck you? Hm?!”

Marc was taking his guilty conscience out on you. He picked his head up and looked down at you, grabbing your jaw tightly in his hand. You whimpered at his firm grip, but you were enjoying the way he manhandled you. His lips were pulled together in a thin line while he huffed in tandem with his thrusts. A few stray hairs fell down from their normally slicked back place and into his eyes. Fuck he’s so pretty.

“Yeah, I am,” you taunted, knowing it would only serve to piss him off even more. “Are you really going to act like-oh shit-like it doesn’t feel good? You make me so wet-fuck!”

He was slamming your bed against the wall with how hard he would pull back and then snap his hips forward into you. You were writhing underneath him from the sensations all over your body, but you couldn’t move your arms still. He went back to sucking on your neck, and you were surprised when his hands slid off of your wrists and moved to intertwine your fingers in his.

Marc was being intimate with you.

Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, he was starting to nuzzle his nose behind your ear, taking a deep breath and inhaling your scent. His movements slowed to a more even pace, as though he were trying to savor every delicious movement, rather than fuck the guilt away. You turned your head to the side, meeting with Marc’s lusty and hooded gaze. Electricity sparked in your stomach at the sight of him.

“Marc–”

He started kissing you again, as though the sound of your voice was going to cause him harm if he had to hear you speak any longer. You wondered if it reminded him of who he was sleeping with. You didn’t care that he was your dad’s best friend anymore, you hadn’t for a while. Nothing had ever felt so good in every way. His hands squeezed around you tighter, and you heard him start moaning louder into you.

“Gonna fill your little pussy up baby, then we’ll see how mouthy you are.”

You couldn’t speak as your climax approached faster than you’d anticipated. All you could do was let your eyes roll back and your body melt into the bed. You felt your cunt squeezing around his thick cock as he filled you with his hot spend. Fuck he sounds so good. He was moaning deep rasps into your ear while he fucked his cum into you.

When his thrusts finally slowed and you were both a sated and panting mess, he pulled out of you. You mumbled about the towel on your dresser that he used to clean himself off and then toss to you. You wiped yourself up and then slowly stood, starting to change into your clothes.

“You can stay,” you said to Marc, hoping that he wasn’t going to just fuck you and leave, but you knew better.

Marc finished getting dressed and then he looked at you, brows furrowed and guilt etched into every pore on his face. You knew that he was going to say no, so when the words left his lips you weren’t surprised. That didn’t change the disappointment that you took with you downstairs while saying goodbye.

“We can’t do this again,” Marc said coldly in the doorway, “it’s done…alright?”

You nodded sullenly. He nodded in return and left. You were alone again.

You weren’t sure why it made you emotional to hear him say the words ‘it’s done…alright?’, but you felt a pit in your stomach. Was it because he’d been so intimate with you not ten minutes ago? Was it because he made you feel like no one else ever had? Perhaps it was a combination of both. Either way, you spent the evening finishing that terrible movie with your face buried in a box of tissues, just begging for sleep to take you away from your overwhelming feelings.

----

You didn’t see Marc again for three weeks. So much happened in three weeks and you were determined to act normal when you saw him again after that time had passed. When your dad had told you he was coming over for dinner, you froze. It had been a while since you and Marc had been in the same room, and even longer since you’d been in the same room together with your father present. The pit in your stomach was already forming.

Your phone buzzed on the counter and you picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then put your phone in your pocket. As hard as it was, going out with someone else was a necessary step in getting things back to normal. What were you holding out for anyway? For Marc to come in and sweep you off your feet? To tell your dad that he’d been sleeping with you and that you were going to be together now? Maybe if you both had a death wish, that would be a perfect plan.

When he walked into the house, burgundy shirt hugging his chest a little too tight for your sanity, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey, Marc.” You said softly as he made his way to the dining room.

“Hey.” He actually looked at you this time, as if he wasn’t going to burn alive by meeting your gaze.

The heat rose to your cheeks in a rush, making you feel lightheaded. You sat down at the table and both Marc and your father joined. The small talk was just what you needed; your dad asking Marc how business was going and Marc asking you about your job hunt. Marc was making a career out of drinking his wine. If anything was a sign of his nervousness it was that. You were glad that you weren’t the only one feeling the awkward weight in the air.

“So, why don’t you tell Marc about…you know,” your dad gave you a knowing look.

You shifted nervously, “um, well…” you looked into Marc’s dark brown eyes. His brow was knitted together tightly, “I’m going on a date tomorrow with a guy I met at the coffee shop up the road.”

You swigged your own wine down in one gulp. It was quiet except for the ticking clock above the archway to the kitchen. Your silverware clanked on the plate while you poked the lettuce from your salad. You looked back up at Marc.

“You like this guy?” Marc finally asked, never taking his gaze off of you.

“I don’t know,” you tried to sound indifferent, “only talked to him a couple of times.”

Marc paused before responding, “good…it will be good for you to find someone you can spend time with.”

This conversation wasn’t about you and Joey.

“Yes…and someone who isn’t going to just take advantage of me,” you stabbed your fork into your food harshly.

“Oh definitely,” he sounded sarcastic, “and make sure you’re careful with what you wear and how you act, some guys your age might get the wrong idea about the kind of girl you are.”

Asshole.

“He’s right, you know.” Your dad chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the private conversation you and Marc were having right under his nose.

“So are you saying I dress like a slut?” You stared at him, waiting to see how he planned to answer that one.

“Alright now you’re just acting like a brat, I never said–”

“Who wants more wine?” You asked, getting up and going to the kitchen and trying to end the awkward back and forth that you, admittedly, started.

The glasses of wine were filled while you and Marc continued your eternal staredown that your dad seemed oblivious to. You both guzzled down three more glasses each while your father and he entertained more small talk. When dinner concluded, he got up and went outside to start putting together a fire, and your dad asked you to do the dishes and join them when you were finished.

You did the dishes, but you didn’t join them. You told your dad you weren’t feeling well and instead retreated to your room. The last thing you wanted to do was continue the awkwardness that transpired at the dinner table. You thought that would be the end of it, that Marc would’ve had enough of your attitude and never want to speak to you again.

You were wrong.

Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Marc working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Marc twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him quizzically, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked.

Marc sat down next to you, leaning over so his face was close. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He reached a hand up to cup your cheek, you felt him pulling you closer.

“You know exactly what I’m doing in here,” he said in a low whisper.

Of course you did. His lips were soft and tasting of liquor when he pressed them to yours. His tongue tasted even more like alcohol, but you didn’t mind. Whether it was the intoxication, or maybe he was just more comfortable with you now, his tongue felt soft while it melted against yours.

“So you have a date? Hm?” Marc looked at you, eyes dark and brow furrowed.

So that’s what this was about.

You nodded, “mhm.”

“He can’t do for you what I can do honey.” He dropped his hand from your cheek and rested it on your waist. He kissed your neck right by your ear and said, “I know just what you like.”

“I can go on a date with him…in public.” A breathy moan escaped your lips as he sucked on your skin more.

He stopped and looked at you again, “that’s not fair.”

“Nope it’s not.”

“I could take you out if–”

“But you can’t so–”

“-so, he can’t make you feel the way–”

“Maybe he can–”

“Shut the hell up.” Marc’s mouth covered yours, rendering you silent save for the moans escaping you.

He slid you forward so you were laying down and then pulled your covers off your body. That’s when he noticed that you were in nothing but a t-shirt and your underwear. His mouth closed over yours, and his hand trekked over your lower abdomen and tucked into the hem of your panties. You felt the pad of his thick middle finger brush against your clit. You could hear the wet sound it made when he started circling there.

“You’re such a little brat, you know that?” He was so breathless.

“I know,” you said just above a whisper. You arched your cunt toward him, chasing the feeling his fingers gave you .”You sound like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not, you can do whatever you want, not gonna stop you.”

“I want you, and you do keep stopping me.”

Marc sounded like an animal the way he grumbled and pulled your panties down to your ankles. You grabbed his pants and worked on getting them off, hearing his belt clank against the floor when he tossed them aside. You writhed under him, feeling the way his fat cock brushed your inner thigh. You could’ve cried it felt so fucking good to just have him touching you. Marc was right…that other guy would never be able to give you what he did. He could never make you feel the way Marc made you feel.

His erection was prodding at your hole, the leaking tip testing to make sure you were ready to take him. You grabbed his hip, pulling forward while arching into him, feeling it go in just a little further. You were feeling needy and impatient.

“Marc please,” you begged, “please.”

He dropped down to his elbows, resting on either side of your head and caging you in. You leaned up and kissed him. One of his large hands cupped your clothed breast as he thrusted full to the hilt inside of you. If not for his mouth covering yours, you would’ve screamed and awoken your father who was sleeping only two doors down in the hall. He pumped slowly, being careful not to make the bed creak.

“Better be quiet, keep your pretty little mouth shut honey.” Marc was whispering harshly while glaring down at you.

The head of his cock dragged against that spot deep inside that you could never quite reach on your own. You choked on the cries that your lungs tried to punch out of you. You wondered if this other guy would make you feel like your guts were being pushed aside every time he plunged his length deep inside of you. You wondered if he would make it hard for you to breathe every time his girth twitched in response to your fluttering walls. Mostly, you wondered if he would act like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen every time his eyes landed on yours.

A gasp fell from your lips.

“You trying to wake up daddy? Hm? Want him to hear his little girl getting railed out of her mind?”

“N-no it just…it feels so good,” you whined. 

“I know baby, oh yes I know,” his voice was low, “no one else can make you feel like I do, right?” His voice was rough and wrecked.

“No one…n-no one, Marc.” You were struggling to keep your voice down so he covered your mouth with a large hand.

“That’s my girl.”

My girl, you thought. He said you were his girl…you wondered if he meant those words or if it was the alcohol talking.

“I’m always going to know what you need. I’m always going to know how to make you cry and squirm and fucking-fuck-baby-squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight-shit.” He started moving faster, you heard the bed creaking and you began to panic.

“Mmmm!” You couldn’t get a word out.

You felt numb, and at some point his hand became slick over your lips with the drool that leaked out beyond your control. Your mind was gone, and all you could focus on was the pleasure rolling through you with every smooth glide of his cock through your channel. Your body trembled beneath him. Your knuckles ached from how hard you grabbed his hips.

“Are you going to be a good and quiet little girl for me when you come? Or are you going to embarrass yourself, hm?” Marc’s grunts were getting louder and you started to feel nervous. “Oh honey, you feel so good. Such a tight little pussy baby-f-fuck.”

You both came at the same time, bodies pressed into each other as tight as you could so you could feel it. You noticed the way his abdomen flexed against your tummy with every pleasured groan that escaped him. You noticed how his lips tightened along with his closed eyelids; you noticed the way his cock pulsated, stretching you out while filling you to the brim with his hot cum as your cunt clenched around him firmly.

God you just wished he could stay. You wished so badly that he could just lay there in your arms when he was done and the two of you could drift off to sleep together. There was hope though. He called you his girl. He would only say that if it meant…

“Marc,” you said finally as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Yeah?” He slid his underwear on over each leg.

“If you’re saying I’m your girl, does that mean we’re…you know?”

He looked at you with a raised brow, “what? Oh…no it’s…it’s not a thing.”

You couldn’t help the heartbreak that fell over you. You weren’t sure what you were honestly expecting. It was dumb to think anything else would’ve come from this. What were you thinking? That Marc really meant he was going to…what…go into your dad’s room and tell him that you were dating now? That he was just going to hold your hand in public and shout to the world that you two were seeing each other despite him being your dad’s best friend?

Of course not. Marc would never. The guilt would eat him alive more than it already had. You were stupid for even suggesting such a thing. He probably wished he’d never slept with you in the first place.

“Oh.”

He sighed and put his hand on the door handle.

“You have a date tomorrow, you should go on it and enjoy it.” He opened the door, letting the light from the hall pour into your bedroom. “Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“That’s it then? You’re done with this?”

“Never should’ve started this in the first place. Try to have fun. I’m sorry.”

The door closed, and you just felt empty inside. 

----

You’d never felt so stupid.

There you were, standing in the rain outside of the restaurant where you’d been stood up. Your dad was gone for the weekend on business, and you didn’t know who else to call, that’s why you called him. He’d always be there for you, you knew that. No matter the situation, no matter the time, he would always come to your rescue.

Marc.

He pulled up to you, stopping fast by the sidewalk and getting out of the car. He ran over to you and immediately took off his jacket to put it around your bare arms, but not before muttering about how dumb it was for you to wear something so impractical in the first place. You pulled the coat closer to your body as he opened the passenger’s side door for you and you sat down inside.

You looked like a drowned rat as you observed yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was running down your cheeks and your tight red dress was soaked through. He was right, you were dumb, but not just for your clothing choices. You were dumb for thinking you could avoid him, for thinking you didn’t want him, and for thinking even for a second that you could possibly grow to love anyone besides him…but he didn’t love you. He’d made that abundantly clear.

The ride to your house was silent, awkwardly so. You felt a pang in your chest over the fact that Marc wasn’t talking. It meant, to you, that he was serious about his words the night before.

“Thanks,” you said as he pulled into the driveway.

He put the car in park and turned off the engine, “couldn’t leave you out there in the rain. Your dad woulda killed me.”

“You can come inside if you want. Dad has some extra beers in the fridge.” You opened your door.

“I probably shouldn’t I–”

You paused for a moment and then muttered, “fine.” You took off his coat and shoved it in his lap. “Goodnight, thanks again for the ride.”

You tried to wait until you got inside to start sobbing, feeling vulnerable and rejected, but you failed, feeling the tears coming down along with the rain. You never should’ve made all those moves on him over the course of the last couple months. It was all a huge mistake, and deep down you’d always known that, but now after your failed date, and Marc’s refusal to comfort you, you felt the weight of your stupidity on your shoulders. The rain drowned out his footsteps, so it shocked you when you turned to close the door and he was holding it open, pushing through to follow you inside. That’s when he noticed the fresh tears escaping you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, furrowing his brow, eyes darting rapidly between yours.

“No, Marc, no I’m not okay!” You walked to the living room and stood with your back to him. “Just go,” you said when you heard him coming in behind you.

“Why are you doing this? Huh?” He was raising his voice at you.

You flipped around and looked at him incredulously, “excuse me? Why am I doing this? You are just as guilty as I am! I am sick of you acting like the victim here.”

He stepped closer, “I know I kissed you that first night, alright? I know I shouldn’t have done that but everything else is on you.”

“Oh so I’m the one who made you walk into my bedroom last night? I’m pretty sure I went to bed and avoided you.” You prodded his heaving chest with your index finger, “you’re the one who came into my room to torture me last night.”

“Oh really? You call that torture?” He stepped closer, chest brushing against yours. “Didn’t sound like torture honey, sounded like you were having the time of your fuckin’ life! You know what’s torture? When your best friend’s kid acts like a goddamn tease and he’s expected to keep his hands to himself.”

“Oh poor YOU! Big strong guy getting seduced by a little girl? Fuck you Marc! You didn’t have to do anything and you know it!” You shoved him with your arms, but he stood like a brick wall, “get the hell out of my house.”

“That what you want? You want me to go?”

His face was close, nose brushing against yours. You were mad at him. You had half a mind to slap him and push him away again, but you didn’t. You stupidly kissed him, letting his body melt into yours. You were crying even harder now, and Marc stopped, pulling back to look at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, I don’t ever want you to go, I don’t know what to do but I don’t ever want to be without you.” You said finally, letting your feelings come out.

Marc nodded, breathing heavily while he scooped you up, holding you against him and walking you to the couch with his lips over yours. In under a minute he had his pants around his thighs, and your panties pulled aside so he could plunge his cock into your wet heat once more. You both let out a pleasured cry into the living room.

“Marc please,” you looked at him, not really sure what you were begging for, but you were begging. 

“Please what?” He rolled his hips forward, never taking his eyes off you, “say it honey.”

“Please don’t push me away again, I can’t take it.”

You had more tears trickling down your face. Marc brushed them away with his thumbs. He kissed you softly, moving his hips at a slow, sensual pace. He looked at you with a forlorn expression. He was filled with pain, guilt, and something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I won’t. I promise.”

He grabbed your hip and started moving faster, pulling you in as he pushed forward. You’d never felt anything like it, the unseen but warm comfort that filled you with his words. You brought your lips to his again, tangling one hand in his hair while the other squeezed the meat of his behind.

His moans made your body feel soft and made you pliant for him. You would’ve given him even more of yourself if it were at all possible. He rested his forehead on yours, eyes boring into you while he continued his smooth glides deep into your cunt. You’d never felt so connected to anyone, you’d never felt so special to anyone.

“Are you ok?” He asked, moving to kiss your cheek.

“Y-yes, mm, yes. Better now.”

“There’s my girl.” He cooed, forcing your stomach to flutter.

“Oh, Marc.” You whined in his ear.

He hummed into your neck, brushing his lips there gently. You felt him thrusting harder, stuffing you and stretching you wider with every forward snap of his hips. His breath was punching out of his lungs right into your skin. You felt an overwhelming swell in your chest, a desire to hold onto him and never let go. You felt him getting harder as he moved. His breathing was heavy and rough against your neck.

“Gonna make you feel good all the time honey, always gonna fill you up,” he started moving faster. “It’s insane how-fuck-how good you feel.”

“Good enough to make a good boy misbehave?” Your giggle was followed by a sharp gasp when Marc nipped the skin on the side of your neck.

He started really fucking you, skipping over the part where he gradually ramped up his speed and moving straight into the skin slapping thrusts you craved. You could tell he was getting close, forcing you so roughly into the couch you thought you might become one with it.

“I think if anyone’s been misbehaving, it’s been you honey, couldn’t just let me be could you? Needed to feel me that bad? You’re always so wet. S-so fucking wet for me.”

“Always so hard for me,” you dug your nails into the flesh of his rear.

“Hear that?” He stopped, sliding back until his cock was about to fall out of you. As he pushed back into you, painstakingly slow, you heard the sound of his cock moving along your slick coated walls until he was flush against you again, “such a wet little girl.”

You were never going to last if he kept talking to you like that. Your pointless contest of who was harder or who was wetter ended with his display. He’d won, and that was fine with you. He was right anyway, you were soaking wet, slick coating your thighs and probably his too. You brought both hands to his cheeks and made him face you, lips pressing to yours while you both approached your climax.

“Are you gonna come for me? Make a mess all over your daddy’s couch?”

“Yes, oh fuck yes!” You kissed him deeper, feeding him your heavy groans while your orgasm overcame you.

You arched into him, feeling his mouth while he kissed through your pleasured cries. He huffed loudly while he came, holding you closely as his cock pulsated hot ropes into you. You felt like, when you were finished, your bodies let out an exhale of relief. All the emotions, feelings and physical desires pent up inside of you both were released with that one moment you shared. You’d come to an agreement, you were going to be together.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked, looking deep into Marc’s eyes while he grew soft inside of you.

He sighed heavily, “we’re going to have to find a way to tell your dad.”

No matter how tough things would be, you knew everything would work out now that you had Marc, and Marc had you.

Moon Knight DBF Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

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[sofiaispunk]

The Bakery Crush - PART (1/2)

Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

summary: Just two fools clearly in love, pining over each other because ... well, they are fools.

words: 3kish

warnings: angst, JEALOUSY, Joel being a fool, smut, pining, age gap, bad puns, heartbreak, 18+

You enjoyed the little things in Jackson. The little fairy lights that brighten up the street and making Jackson almost feel like a magical wonderland, the vibrant colors of the changing leaves in autumn, the sound of the flowing water from the nearby river, but what you enjoyed the most was the smell of freshly baked bread from your little bakery on the corner in Mainstreet.

Shortly after arriving in Jackson Maria assigned, you to baking duty, since you were a professional baker before the outbreak, and showed you to your new working place.

It was a charming little bakery that had been abandoned for years but as you peered through the dusty windows, you immediately saw the potential. 

Tommy, Maria’s husband, helped you turn the rusty shop into your dream bakery. You spent countless hours painting the walls a warm shade of yellow, installing new cabinets and countertops, and laying down fresh tiles.

You were determined to make the bakery stand out, a place with a warm atmosphere where everybody felt welcomed. You even found old wooden crates to use as shelves, hung vintage baking utensils on the walls, and added some decorative flowers for the ambiance.

That was a year ago and since then your bakery has become the favorite place of the residents of Jackson and Jackson became your home.

-

You were busy kneading a batch of dough when you heard the familiar jingle of the bakery's bell. 

"Hey there, Ellie!" you greeted her with a smile. "How was school today?"

"It was fine," she replied, shrugging off her backpack. "But you know what would make it better? A freshly baked blueberry scone."

You chuckled. "You never change, do you? One blueberry scone for my favorite customer coming right up."

As you handed her a warm scone on a napkin, Ellie grinned mischievously. "Thanks, (y/n). This looks berry delicious!”

You couldn't help but chuckle at her pun. "That's a good one, Ellie. You really do have a way with words."

She grinned. "Thanks, I try. I mean, it's not like I'm rolling in dough like you are." She waggled her eyebrows at you and took another bite of the scone.

You laughed lightly, continuing to work on your dough, "You're too much, Ellie. But you always make me smile, that’s why you my favorite, y‘ know."

"Well, that's what I'm here for," she said with a grin. "To brighten up your day and eat all your delicious scones."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You're lucky I like you, kid."

Ellie finished up the last of her scone and sighed contentedly. "Man, that hit the spot. I don't know how you do it, really. Your scones are always so flavorful and yummy."

"It's all about using the best ingredients and putting my secret ingredient in … love." You answered playfully, slightly cringing at your cheesy answer.

Ellie just groaned silently but nodded. "Well, it shows. You know, you really raisin the bar when it comes to baked goods."

Now it was your turn to groan. "That one was a bit of a stretch, Ellie."

"Hey, I can't help it. I'm on a roll today."

You both laughed as she grabbed her backpack and headed over to you to give you a small hug and a quick kiss on your cheek "Thanks for the scone. I’m off to Dina’s. See you, tomorrow.”

And with that Ellie rushed her way towards the exit.

"Take care, Ellie," you called after her with a smile. "And keep those puns coming, kid."

-

It was getting late and you were closing the store front for the day. You packed up the leftover treats from the bakery and couldn't help but think that maybe Joel would want to enjoy them. So you gathered up some pretzel pieces, bread, two scones that Ellie loves, and some croissants and made your way to Joel's house.

The evening sky painted in different hues of orange and pink. The streets were quiet as most people had retired for the night. You walked leisurely towards Joel's house, taking in the sights and sounds of the town you had grown to love.

When you reached the house, you knocked on the door and waited. Ellie opened the door with a surprised look on her face.

"Hey, Ellie. Sorry to drop by so late. I thought maybe you and Joel would want to have some of these leftover treats," you said, holding up the bag of the baked goods.

Ellie smiled, "Of course we would. You know he can never resist them, and neither can I. Come on in."

As you followed Ellie to the kitchen, you couldn't help but notice how cozy and warm their home was. The living room was dimly lit, and the only source of light came from the candles on the coffee table.

“Joel's not home yet, though.“ She said while tearing up a piece of croissant, “I don't know where he is, and it's kind of weird because he's never out this late."

Your eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Really? That's strange. Do you want me to stay with you until he gets back?"

Ellie shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'm sure he's just caught up with something. Thanks for the offer, though."

You nodded and headed over to the door, "Sure, no problem. Let me know if you need anything, okay kiddo?"

Ellie nodded and bid you goodnight and you made your way home, in desperate need of a warm shower after a long day at work. 

-

You stood under the warm shower, the water cascading down your body, the stream slowly relaxing your muscles, allowing yourself to let your mind wander. Thoughts of Joel flooded your mind. You couldn't help but think about his chiseled physique and his strong, defined features. His nose, perfectly carved, led down to his plush lips that always seemed to be turned down in a permanent scowl. 

But then, there was his smile. The one that could light up an entire room, the one that made your heart skip a beat. The way his face changed, softening, and becoming almost boyish, when he talked to Ellie. His soft brown eyes crinkling with laughter every time Ellie tells one of her many jokes. It was like seeing a completely different side of him, that almost felt like was just reserved for you and Ellie.

You let your soapy hands glide over your body pretending they were his big, calloused ones exploring your body. Steam filled the bathroom as your moans and whimpers echoed though the small room. 

You drew tight circles on your most aching part while imagining the way his broad shoulders would feel under your hands, and his strong thick fingers, that always seemed to be working on something, replacing yours. His lips sucking and licking on every part of your body, consuming you.

"Joel,” you let out a final moan, your voice not much above a whisper, as you reached your peak, your walls clenching around nothing.

The water started to cool as you tried to catch your breath, bringing you back to reality. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel. You knew you needed to push these thoughts aside, but a part of you couldn't help but think about Joel and wonder where he could be at this hour. You just prayed that he was okay.

-

The next morning, while you were getting ready to open the bakery, you noticed Joel and Ellie walking in. To your surprise Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers and a bag of coffee beans, which caught you off guard.

"Good morning, (y/n)!" Ellie chirped, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Morning, Ellie. Morning, Joel. What brings you guys in today?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Joel smiled warmly. "I just wanted to say thank you for the bread and scones yesterday. They were delicious. And I thought you might like these flowers and coffee beans as a small token of my appreciation."

Your felt your heartbeat race as he handed you the small bouquet of wildflowers. "Thank you, Joel. That's very thoughtful of you."

Ellie nudged you with her elbow, a sly grin on her face. "Looks like somebody's got a secret admirer… well, not so secret," she teased.

"Ellie, please. That’s enough" Joel gave Ellie a stern look. Ellie just shrugged innocently in return and skipped off to the display case, leaving you alone with Joel.

"Listen, I don't want to keep you from your work. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate what you do for me and especially for Ellie.  And, well, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

“Thank you, that means a lot, Joel” you blushed slightly.

“Anytime, darlin’,” he placed his warm hand on yours and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the contact of his skin.

As if reading your mind, Ellie sauntered back over, a chocolate croissant in hand. "What's going on over here? Are you two making googly eyes at each other?"

Joel laughed. "No, Ellie. She and I were just having a friendly conversation."

But Ellie wasn't convinced. "Uh-huh. Sure, you were. Well, I'm going to go enjoy this delicious croissant. You two keep doing your thing."

As she walked away, Joel turned back to you with a warm smile. "Don't mind her, darlin´. She's just teasing. But, really, thank you again for everything."

As Joel and Ellie were about to leave, Ellie turned to you, "I almost forgot to ask you if you wanna come to the community hall tonight and watch a movie with us?"

"Really? You want lil’ old me to come with you?" you teased.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Duh. We wouldn't have asked if we didn't want you to come. We're watching this old western movie that Joel loves. You know, to keep up with his cowboy persona."

Joel chuckled. "Ellie, you know I'm not a real cowboy. But, yes, we would love it if you came. “

You grinned. "I would love to come. And I'll bring some blueberry scones."

Ellie's eyes lit up. "Yes! I knew you would say that. Those are my favorites."

-

You made your way to the community hall, the twinkle lights hanging above the entrance, casting a warm and inviting glow. The hall itself was a modest, single-story building with wooden walls and a sloping roof. Overall it was a cozy space and pretty much the center point of your little community.

As you entered the hall, you were greeted by Tommy and Maria , who were standing by the door, handing out programs for the evening's event. They both smiled and greeted you warmly.

"Hey there, (y/n)!" Tommy said. "Glad you could make it."

Maria chimed in. "Yes, we're all excited for the movie tonight. Have you seen it before?"

You shook your head. "No, I haven't. But I've heard good things. Ellie seemed excided."

You made some small talk about the movie and the bakery before you spotted Ellie and Joel sitting in the front row. You made your way over to them, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation.

"Hey, guys," you said, sitting down next to them. "Looks like we got good seats."

Ellie grinned. "Of course, we did. Dad always gets here early to get the best spot."

Joel chuckled. "That's right. Gotta be prepared."

Joel was holding a big bag of popcorn and handed it over to you, your fingers barely touching, sending shivers down your entire body. "’M glad you could make it.” he whispered into your ear. You felt his breath lightly tickling your earlobe.

"Oh, I have a small favor," Ellie exclaimed, turning back to you, causing you to abruptly snap out of your trance. 

"Dina's birthday is next week. Do you think you could make her a cake?" Ellie asked shyly. “Only if you want of course and only if you have enough spare ingredients. I know it’s a lot to ask from you but Dina is not just any friend … well…  she is my friend of course but she is my best friend and special and I want to do something extra special for her. I am sorry, just forget I said anything. “ Ellie was visibly distressed.

You smiled and put a reassuring hand on her arm to stop her rambling. "Of course I can. What kind of cake were you thinking about?"

Ellie's eyes sparkled with excitement. "She loves chocolate. And... wait for it... peanut butter."

You laughed. "Well, it sounds like we'll have to come up with something extra special for her then."

Ellie hugged you tightly and you couldn’t help but feel so much adoration for the girl. In the short timespan you knew each other she crawled her way into your heart and became part of your family.

Ellie nudged you. "Oh and look, there's Karen and her grandkids. She's been raving about your cinnamon rolls all week." 

You looked around the hall and were surprised to see how many people had shown up for the movie night. There were families with kids, elderly couples, and even a few teenagers.

You smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Maybe I'll make some for the next movie night."

The lights dimmed and the movie began, Joel and Ellie sat on either side of you, munching on popcorn and occasionally making side comments about the movie. You were immediately drawn into the Western that was playing, with its sweeping landscapes and rugged cowboys which kind of reminded you of Joel.

About halfway through the movie, a woman sat down next to Joel and began talking to him, completely ignoring the fact that you were in the middle of a film. Ellie let out an annoyed huff and shushed her, but the woman didn't seem to get the message.

You turned to Ellie and gave her a gentle nudge. "Hey, now. Let's not be rude," you whispered.

“She’s the one being rude. “Ellie rolled her eyes but quieted down and turned her attention back to the movie.

You on the other hand found yourself growing more and more distracted by the conversation between the woman and Joel. They laughed and chatted, and Joel seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her company. 

Your curiosity was piqued, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Who is that woman? How do they know each other? Did he invite her to watch the movie with him? You tried to focus on the movie, but every time the woman laughed, your attention was drawn back to their conversation.

 Your thoughts didn’t seem to quiet down and raced through your mind, and you found yourself feeling increasingly agitated. At the corner of your eye stole a glance at Ellie, who was engrossed in the movie. 

You strained your ears to catch snippets of the conversation between Joel and the woman and immediately noticed the flirtatious undertones in their banter. The woman was playing with her hair, and Joel kept stealing glances at her. You felt a knot forming in your stomach as you watched them. 

At one point, you heard the woman mention something about a rodeo, and Joel's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, you were a natural on that bull," he whispered, chuckling.

The woman grinned. "Yeah, until I fell off and almost broke my arm," she replied, playfully punching Joel in the arm.

Then, the woman leaned in close to Joel and whispered something in his ear. You couldn't hear what she said, but Joel's eyes widened, and he let out a low chuckle.

She leaned back in her seat. "What do you say, cowboy?" she asked, winking at him.

The credits rolled and the lights came on, and you quickly stood up and you couldn’t wait to get out of there. You couldn't bear to be in the same room as Joel and the woman any longer. You didn’t care how childish you were behaving or if somebody would notice your weird behavior. The jealousy and hurt were too much to bear in this moment.

You hugged Ellie tightly, not wanting to let go. "Thanks for inviting me, Ellie. I had a great time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie looked up at you with concern in her eyes. "Hey, you ok, right?" she asked, sensing that something was off.

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, of course, Ellie Bellie. Just a little tired," you lied.

Joel and the woman looked over at you, and you nodded in their direction goodbye, unable to meet their gaze, and quickly made your way out of the hall.

Once outside, you steadied your breathing and tried to compose yourself. You felt foolish for letting your emotions get the best of you. Afterall, Joel was a free man, and he was entitled to date whoever he wanted. You knew this, but you still couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment and hurt.

 Suddenly the sky opened up and it started to rain heavily. It felt like the world was crying with you. The raindrops were mixing with your tears, and you couldn't tell the difference between the two. The wind was picking up, and you felt cold to the bone. It was as if the weather knew the pain you were feeling and was trying to make it worse.

 Your body was shaking uncontrollably, and you felt foolish for thinking that there could have been something between you and Joel. How could you be so naive? Joel was just being kind to you, and you misinterpreted his kind gestures and turned it in some twisted delusional romantic idea.

How pathetic of you for even considering the possibility that Joel might have had feelings for you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together as the rain continues to beat down on you.

At the end of the day, Joel Miller, was nothing more than your stupid little crush.

Part 2

[tangledinink]

Hi 👋

I just wanted to tell you that your art and au's make me smile 🩵✨ what's your favorite work of art that you've created this year?

thank you so much! ; w ; that makes me happy! and i think maybe my favorite thing was the swanatello finale? / just the au in general! i didn't make the entire thing in 2024, but i did finish it this year, and it felt absolutely insane (in a mostly good way...!) to actually finish the project... i miss it a lot sometimes, but i'm really happy with how it ended and would much rather give a story a satisfying conclusion than drag it around like a popular tv sitcom on it's 11th season, if that makes sense.

thank you!!!! ; w ; this makes me happy and i'm glad you like it!!!!! i need to make more clover crown content... soon... it's coming... i promise... @arelenforyadarlin

thank you! ; 0 ; i'm very glad that i did it justice! i am pretty forgetful due to my adhd, but i also tried to do a lot of research along the way about more pervasive memory issues more akin to what donnie was dealing with, so i'm very happy that it all came across well...!

you guys all have permission to stab gemini!big mama if you ever see her <3 also thank you!

i work at a 3D printing company! i do all the silly administration and paperwork stuff, and, despite failing math in high school, some of the accounting stuff, too.

i KNOWWW, they're stealing my fucking brand :/// feels legally actionable to me tbh. they'll be hearing from my lawyers... @thejade-forest

THE GEMINI TWINS CAN DO IT AND THEY BELIEVE IN YOU-- YOU CAN DO IT, TOO!!!! also shaking ur hand re: period-related medical issues and suffering. also training in MMA is incredibly badass?! :000 NICE.

Technically speaking, no. However, the Hidden City Police did find the twins just wandering around the city-- and since she's got, like, 80% of the police force on her payroll, she of course heard about it right away... @serendipitous-posts

GOOD JOB NAILING THE PRETEXT :D I'm glad my silly lil AU was helpful, hehe :3c

I'm originally from Massachusetts! My favorite color is pink and I've been making art for most of the my life. One of the main things driving me is that I just really love stories and characters and wanna force people to pay attention to all the silly lil situations happening to make-believe people in my head. Don't think I could pick a favorite fanart, since they are all so beloved... ; w ; Any version of Donnie is my favorite. I wanna go live in the Pokemon World, I think I try to find a healthy balance between 'doing my own thing' and 'is there an audience for this content?' Also! Great question! Uhhh... for TMWN, what truly started me on that road was that I Didn't Wanna Have To Draw Turtles. For the Gemini, I was very much inspired by the Even More of a Disaster AU! And for Swanatello, as I've stated in the past... I just wanted to make a silly donniesona with a pun for a name... and then things got out of hand... @sweetnsoursinger

nooo don't ooze my tortoiseeee i'm not ready to be a parentttttt i don't wanna live in the sewerssssss noooooooooooo-- @thebloodyheartgirl

emd two is way less insufferable than one--

(it's more like... two and donnie have a lot of common ground with science and mystical studies, so they are capable of getting along pretty well...! and leo automatically feels some sense of protection and affection for two just because... well... he's a version of donnie!

but. uhhh. one... not so much. it is... complicated...)

it was FINE... i mean. it SUCKED, he didn't LIKE it, it took the whole ass day and was painful and exhausting and scary. but there were no huge medical scares or complications or anything, so in the grand scheme, it went pretty smoothly? not that they had much to compare it to...

leo's went WAY smoother though, much quicker and easier than donnie's, (plus just one egg!) and donnie was so fucking annoyed at him for it. @jollycrowntragedy

It's based on their actual genetic/physical ages, for the most part! For Mikey and Venus, Draxum already knew exactly how old all of the turtles were when he got them, (he's a scientist, for goodness sake,) so he could roughly translate that into their 'post-mutation' ages, with Mikey being a bit older. For Raph, Leo, and Donnie, it was a lot more guesswork based for their respective caretakers... The fact that Donnie is the 'older twin,' for example, is completely arbitrary.

Jeni joined the Draxum family at a later date than the rest of the turtles and wasn't present during the original mutation process. She was mutated and 'adopted' as an infant about two years after the initial mutation event-- when Mikey was around three and Venus was about two. @kingofgemini

I do! Here's a post I made previously about the comic making procress for Gemini-- some things have changed a little since then, but most of it is pretty much the same...! If you're looking for the textures specifically, I'd check out the link I've got in the bottom for True Grit Texture Supply, which is where I got a bunch of my brushes. (If you sign up for their email list, then they'll send you a bunch of brushes for free, including a lot of the ones that I use in my comics!) @avisminutia

THANK YOU... ; _ ; THIS MAKES ME VERY VERY HAPPY... I AM GLAD...