#marco x ofc

[fictionthorn]

Surprise, Welcome Home!

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Marco x Silvers Scarlett (ofc)

CW/TW: Mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 433

Summary: Marco has just arrived home after the fight in Wano and Scarlett has a surprise for him.

I stood on the shore as The Red Force came into view. Marco had called before he left Wano to let me know everyone was okay and that he was getting a ride home from Shanks. I watched as Marco flew from the ship to join me. As soon as he landed he pulled me into a hug and spun me around.

“Welcome home,” I said before kissing him.

“It’s good to be back,” Marco said.

We waved goodbye to Shanks and his crew before heading to our house. There was a murmur amongst the village as we walked to the house.

“What’s got everyone so excited?” Marco asked.

I shrugged.

“Maybe they’re just excited to see you made it home safe,” I said.

“Uh-huh,” Marco said skeptically.

“What?” I asked. “Is it that hard to believe that you’ve been missed?”

“No, it’s not that,” Marco said. “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?”

“Probably because I’m always up to something,” I said with a smirk.

“Should I be worried?” Marco asked.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

I opened the door to our house and pulled Marco inside. He followed me to the dining room where I already had dinner ready.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Marco said.

“I know but I wanted to,” I said. “It’s a special day.”

“Oh please don’t tell me I missed a birthday or anniversary,” Marco said.

“No, no it’s nothing like that,” I said. “I just have some very exciting news.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense,” Marco said.

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

“Wait, really?” Marco asked excitedly.

I nodded.

Again he picked me up in a hug.

“When did you find out?” Marco asked.

“Like two days after you left,” I said.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be parents,” Marco said.

“Yeah I was a bit shocked about it too,” I said. “I know I just told you, but how are you feeling about it?”

“I couldn’t be happier,” Marco said.

I smiled and hugged him again.

“Who all knows?” Marco asked.

“Well word has gotten around the village but other than that and you, no one,” I said. “I wanted to wait until I told you before telling everyone else. Plus the last week or so has been kind of crazy for everyone so I also wanted to wait until things calmed down a bit.”

“That’s understandable,” Marco said.

“But now we get to celebrate,” I said.

“And make a lot of phone calls to tell everyone,” Marco said.

“We’ll get to that after dinner,” I said.

[tboycamilo]

encanto next gen au - fourth generation madrigals

wrote these bios for the fankids forever ago but just realized i haven't posted them here and that's a shame bc im proud of my little guys and want to talk about them. anyways here they are in birth order (and also if anyone wants to learn more about the spouses i can write bios for them too bc i love them)

AMELIA 'AMI' MADRIGAL

first child of camilo and marco madrigal. the first of the fourth-generation madrigals. born 1955. has the gift of self-duplication, able to create and dematerialize limitless clones at will. her gift gives marco and camilo hell quite a bit especially when they're young first-time dads attempting to wrangle up all her clones. like marco, ami is very reserved and quiet, but unlike him, she is not socially anxious or shy. she just prefers to observe rather than engage, and tends to be aloof and keep her thoughts to herself. many people see her as stoic and intimidating. because of this, she struggles building relationships with her peers at times, and worries that others perceive her as cold or scary. she's sweet once you get to know her, though, and is a great planner and a good listener. she tends to be the voice of reason in the family and is probably more mature than her dads. a little bit of a nerd.

IMELDA 'IMA' MADRIGAL

ami's twin sister, the second child of camilo and marco madrigal. 'born' 1960 - she was the first clone to materialize when ami got her gift, and gained a mind of her own, unable to dematerialize at ami's will. though physically identical to ami, ima does make efforts to change her appearance so she isn't mistaken for her sister - a definite daddy's girl, she emulates camilo with her shorter hair and bold yellow wardrobe. personality-wise, she is basically a mini version of her papa - energetic, flirty, mischievous, and outgoing. she has a sense of humor, too - she purposely named herself the reverse of her sister's name. but just like camilo, she suffers from identity issues - her boisterous personality and over-the-top style are a direct result of her attempting to compensate for being a clone and avoid being confused with her sister. she often feels like she has no sense of self and fears being seen as a mere copy of ami. if the magic were to fade again, so would she, but we don't need think about that right now!

BRUNO 'BRUNITO' MADRIGAL

third child of camilo and marco madrigal. born 1960. he looks like the perfect mix of his dads, almost all his features halfway between those of marco and camilo. he tends to dress similarly to his namesake, with a hooded poncho shrouding him in mystery. his gift is invisibility at will, so he has become a master of presenting himself inconspicuously. though camilo would never admit it, brunito is kinda his favorite child and is extremely spoiled (and may or may not be the only one of camilo's children who was actually planned). he has a friendly but nervous personality, much like his father marco, and whether his personality developed because of his gift or vice versa is anyone's guess. he is very sweet and tends to see the best in people, and can be somewhat naive - but he's not oblivious to the fact that he tends to get special treatment from his dads and often leverages that to his advantage, much to the irritation of his siblings. he is very attached both to his parents and to his brother felipe. 

VALENTINA MADRIGAL

first child of luisa and inés madrigal. born 1961. despite being adopted, she takes after luisa both in appearance and athleticism. she always has some form of bandages on her in at least one spot. her gift is indestructibility - she is able to withstand injury that would be painful or even fatal to anyone else. because of this spectacular gift, she often tends to throw caution to the wind. valentina is extremely daring and brave, and loves getting into all kinds of trouble and doing stunts that terrify both her mothers. despite her recklessness with her own self, she is very protective of her little sister and younger cousins, and feels a level of responsibility to keep them safe. like luisa, she is susceptible to the pressure she puts on herself, but she is much more comfortable with confrontation than her mother. she bonds with her abuela julieta often.

JACINDA MADRIGAL

first and only child of isabela, lilli, and rosa madrigal. born 1963. her gift is terraforming - she can create structures from the earth and form the land around her at will. with three doting moms who waited until they were fully ready to adopt a kid, jacinda is very spoiled and, in her moms' eyes, she can do no wrong. ima's mischievousness pales in comparison to jacinda's - she is the master prankster of her generation who puts camilo's past mischief to shame. she doesn't discriminate with her pranks, and is always causing hell for her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. despite her troublemaking nature, she is also very charismatic and friendly, and the kids in town love to be around her - she always has something fun up her sleeve. she loves her family, but probably harbors a little jealousy towards ciela and later the triplets for replacing her as the baby of the family. 

CIELA MADRIGAL

second child of luisa and inés madrigal.  born 1965. she has the gift of levitation and is able to float from place to place. her clothes are covered in dreamy pastels and cloud patterns, reflecting both her gift and personality. as the baby of her immediate family, ciela is innocent and creative. she has a very go-with-the-flow attitude and is great at helping others through their emotions and calming them down. she has an appreciation for nature and the arts, and likes to paint and draw in her spare time. she gets along well with her great aunt pepa, who likes to make clouds for her to float on. ciela can be a little naive at times and often has her head in the clouds literally and figuratively, but many still envy her relaxed and happy attitude.

IGNACIO MADRIGAL

the eldest of camilo and marco's triplets and their fourth child overall. born 1971. his appearance takes after camilo a lot more than his other siblings. his gift is fire manipulation - he can create fires of virtually any size at will. because of how dangerous his gift can be, he spent a great deal of his life teaching himself restraint and is very in control of his emotions. despite his levelheadedness, he can be very pompous and bratty - although he grows out of it sooner or later when he's older. he's also quite boy crazy, which he doesn't exactly grow out of. although he loves to tease and annoy his siblings and cousins, he is fiercely protective of them deep down. he's very passionate about his interests and very dedicated to his loved ones, but he tries not to show it outwardly too much out of fear of his gift getting the better of him.

FELIPE MADRIGAL

fifth child of camilo and marco madrigal, the middle triplet. born 1971. his name was inspired by his grandfather felix, and his appearance takes after him too. his gift is water manipulation, essentially the opposite of his brother ignacio's gift. as expected, the two have a big rivalry and get into arguments all the time - their personalities, much like their gifts, tend to clash quite often. felipe is bubbly and polite, but also quite an emotional boy. he often catastrophizes and lets his feelings get the better of him, much like his grandmother pepa. he's a very hard worker and tends to boss his siblings around when it's time to do chores. he's a total papa's boy and is always on the lookout for praise from marco. he's also best friends with his brother bruno despite being so many years apart in age. his wardrobe, unlike the rest of his immediate family, consists of lots of cool blues.

SOFIA MADRIGAL

the youngest of camilo and marco's triplets and their sixth and final child overall. born 1971. her gift is enhanced eyesight - she is able to see in the dark as well as from far distances, and is acutely aware of minor details that most may not pick up on. her jewelry and dress are adorned with eye designs, and the family knows better than to try and sneak anything past her. just like her tia dolores, she has dirt on everyone and can deduce when something shifty is going on in seconds. she's kind of known as the weirdo cousin for her quietness and ominous behavior. she talks very little and seems to be always watching. it's nothing the madrigals aren't used to, though - dolores was exactly the same way when she was a child. bruno, dolores, ami, and sofia all bond over being viewed as fearsome or outsiders for their quirks. she gets a lot of attention as the baby of the family but she doesn't seem to like being in the spotlight very much. 

that's all of them for now, i may also post bios for the other madrigals just to show where they end up in the future in my au but the au generally revolves around the fourth gen! also feel free to ask more about the au and characters bc i absolutely love to yap about this stuff. also sorry about all the babies camilo i only make you suffer bc ur my favorite character 💛

[clockworkbee]

Fuck all romances except whatever the hell that boy and girl ready to burn together had going on.

[alexa-fika]

Hey! Hey! Hey! 😝 I'm back

Anyways can I request a whitebeard pirates x fem child reader? (Maybe 5 years old?)

Reader is half bunny and she's always shy and a bit of a coward and her ears are always down like this

She's always with whitebeard (on his lap, beside him, or on his shoulders)

The crew gives her nicknames like buns, baby bun, bun bun, Cottontail

Oh and the crew is a little protective over reader because she's the smallest crew member on board 🥺

Maybe like the crew is trying to connect with reader? They thought that Marco would be the first one to connect with her (besides pops ofc) because he's quiet and calm but ironically she connect with ace first

Anyways don't forget to eat, sleep, and drink! Thank you~ ✨

Birds of a bunny ( Whitebeard pirates x F!rabbit!child!reader)

A/N okay okay lets ignore than its been an eternity and get straight into saying that despite me ABSOLUTELY COOKING HERE I kinda butchered the request din’t I ? I kind alet myself go but I just really wanted to get to one of your request at the least cosmo

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Whitebeard hums, swishing around his drink and gulping a considerable amount

“They’re looking for you again,” he states, glancing at a small furry ball on his shoulders

She unfurls herself from her position, moving her drooping ears to uncover her face

“I know:..”

“They’re trying.”

“I know, I know that they are good people, but… they are so rowdy.”

He snickers at that, glancing away from her

“I think you should talk to them.”

She shakes her head at that

“Don’t be a brat. You have to talk to your brothers eventually, and if this is how it will be, then I Will have that be now, Boys.”

She looks at Whitebeard, her eyes widening as she shakes her head vigorously, not liking where this was headed

She squeaks as she jumps off his shoulder. As he reaches for her, hopping her way through the deck, attempting to get away from the crew as they all lunge to try to take hold of the bunny girl

She quickly made her way up to one of the lower crow nests, tucking herself small in the corner of it, ignoring the calls of the males down below

She is not alone for long as Ace, ever the nimble one, makes his way up into the crow’s nest, followed quickly by a half-transformed Marco who perches on the crow’s nest, their entrance being received by sobs from the kit

Ace sighs at the sight, swiftly picking her up

“No! Papaw! Papaw!” She cries, trying to get out of Ace’s hold to run back to the now retreating Captain as he heads for his quarters

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes

“Dokucha, It’s okay, take deep breaths for me.” Marco follows only to wince at his suggestion and was met by higher wails

“No! No! I want Papaw!”

He hums, dipping her

She shrieks as she suddenly finds herself upside down, giggling when he pulls her back up, her ears bouncing as she did

“Heard a laugh.”

She shakes her head, digging it into his shoulder

“No?” He questions, dipping her once again, grinning when her laughter followed on the way back up

“Well, I’m glad you are feeling better, Baby bun,” smiles Marco

Dokucha turned her attention towards the man, staring at him for a moment, her eyes glancing towards her limbs, his arms currently transformed into a pair of wings, his legs turned into two sharp, very sharp talons that gripped into the wood of the nest

“Bright aren-

He stops his words as she begins wailing again, turning her head away from him and trying to dig herself into Ace

“Hey, Hey, what’s wrong? It’s just Marco, I know he looks weird-

He receives an unimpressed glance from the phoenix at that

But he won’t hurt you.”

“No!!” She hollers

“He’s going to eat me,” she bellows

He stills at that, glancing down and back up to his brother; quickly understanding the situation, he stifles a snicker as he gestures toward Marco

“Baby bun, look at me.”

“No! I don’t taste good,” she wails

“Just look for a second.” her sobs continue as she dares to take a glance, her sobs lessening at the sight of a now fully human Marco standing in front of her

“See? Just a normal person, that was just my devil fruit,” he explains, reaching for her only to sigh as she scooched back

“Baby bun, come on, I swear I'm not going to hurt you,” Marco stated once they had returned back to the Deck of the ship; much to the surprise of the rest, she had decided to remain with Ace rather than anyone else despite all the warm and more peaceful greetings everyone offered.

“Marco, you’re terrible,” Haruta muttered

“I didn’t think you were the type to scare little girls,” Vista piped in

An irk mark began to grow on his forehead at the jabs his crewmates threw at him

“Shut up,” he grumbled

“Man, I had the wrong impression of you, Commander Marco,” Saber added in

“I always thought you were a good human, but I guess my first impression of you couldn’t be farther from the truth,” Kutatsu commented

“The next one to make a comment will see what kind of man I am,” he snapped, brows furrowed

“Gee, see that Cottontail? Now he wants to eat us. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” laughed Thatcher as he looked at the girl in Ace’s arms while pointing at Marco

She glances at the chef, her lips beginning to tremble once again

“Hah?! What’s wrong, Cotton tail?!”

“You’re going to eat me!”

“What?! What gave you that idea, Cottontail!?” He questions a devastated look on his face as she repeated the words he mocked Marco for no longer than a minute ago

Izou chuckles at the scene unfolding

“You have something to share, Izou?!” Thatch asked, glaring at the sniper, tears prickling in his eyes

“I believe she is referring to your… extravagant hairdo.”

“…”

“Cottontail! I'm not a bird, I swear! It’s hair! It’s hair,” he wailed, trying to hug the girl, only for tears to cascade down his face comically as she backed away from him, digging herself closer into Ace’s Embrace

Marco gives a pat on the man crying on his knees

“It’s alright, Thatch; I will protect her,” he mocks

“Shut up, you damn chicken” he wails

He grits his teeth at that, a sharp smile on his face

“You’re on cleaning duty for a month.”

“What the hell, man?! I'm a commander; you can’t do that,” he wails

Okay im going to do school assigment and im going to write another request hopefully!!

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[requiemforthepoets]

en garde! 𖦹 CL16

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fencer!leclerc!reader , f1 grid x fencer!leclerc!reader

SUMMARY: charles had been asking you to teach him fencing, and you finally did.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: smau mixed with narrations, inconsistent photos, typos, not proofread, cursing, no use of y/n on the narrations, poorly google translated italian, and all photos are taken from pinterest

FACE CLAIMS: all from pinterest

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: it’s been a long time since i added a new fic to my leclerc!sister series, so here it is hehe sorry, i’ve yapped a LOT about fencing on the narration part, so pls forgive me 😭 i hope i didn’t bore you a lot with fencing stuff 😭 i’m also accepting request for this series (i’m running out on ideas lmao 🥲) but i hope that you’ll enjoy this one!

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, sofia_rossi, marcoromano.fencing, landonorris and 783,984 others

ynleclerc E' passato un po' di tempo, Italia 💘

view all 12,837 comments

charles_leclerc when are you coming home?

ynleclerc idk, why?

charles_leclerc are you serious right now 😐

ynleclerc what…🧍🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc check my messages for once 😐

username1 OH HOW I MISSED YOU 😭

username2 the y/n drought has finally ended!!!! 😭

username3 MOTHER IS BACK, MOTHER HAS POSTED 😭🎉

landonorris thank god you’re alive. i thought you’re already dead somewhere 😔💔

ynleclerc bro what 😭

landonorris anyways, when will you teach me how to fence for a new quadrant yt vid

ynleclerc you sure you’re up for it? don’t want you poking yourself with the foil

landonorris 😠😠😠😠

sofia_rossi CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!!

ynleclerc 🥰🥰🥰

username4 OUR FAV FENCING DUO IS GOING TO SEE EACH OTHER SOON??? OMG 😭❤️

francisca.cgomes you’re in italy and you didn’t even tell me? 😠

ynleclerc I FORGOT IM SORRY IM SORRY!! but hey, i’m italy 🥰 hangout soon?

francisca.cgomes of course!!! just text meeee!!

username5 SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD 🥳

ynleclerc posted a story!

liked by charles_leclerc, sofia_rossi, yourbestfriend, francisca.cgomes, marcoromano.fencing and others

charles_leclerc when will you teach me fencing 😔

charles_leclerc can’t believe it’s so hard to schedule one with you 💔💔💔

charles_leclerc i need big brother privileges 💔

ynleclerc USHCJJSJD CHARLES 😭

ynleclerc i’ll be home by next week! (hopefully you’ll be home as well 🤥) damn, can’t believe our schedules never really align

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️

francisca.cgomes i’m free tomorrow!! how about we go out for brunch?

ynleclerc KIKAAAA!! yes yes, ofc! ❤️

francisca.cgomes YAY!!

username6 OUR FENCING DUO WILL BE REUNITED SOON 😭❤️

username7 oh we pray for times like this (you being active on ig 😔💔)

MONACO

The sound of clashing blades echoed through the halls of the Club d’Escrime, a backdrop to your training session with Marco, your Italian coach. Fully suited in your white fencing uniform, mask tucked under your arm, you watched the double doors open, revealing your brother, Charles and his videographer, Antoine. The latter already had his camera rolling, and Charles, in his usual casual style—jeans, a dark hoodie, and white sneakers, looking like he had just stepped off a magazine cover.

“Finally!” You said, walking towards them with a smile. “Thought you’d never make it.”

Charles chuckled, spreading his arms in mock exasperation. “Don’t start! You’re the one who’s always impossible to catch. What is it this week? Tokyo? Budapest?”

“Home, for once,” you replied with a laugh, gesturing around the salle. “But that’s rare, as you know.”

“The place is very stunning,” Charles said, as he marveled the interior of the salle. “So this is where gold medals are made?” He teased.

“Something like that,” you replied, your voice light with pride. “Though Marco here deserves half the credit.”

“Ah, Charles! Finalmente ci incontriamo,” Marco greeted, shaking Charles’ hand firmly. His thick Italian accent added a charm to his words. “Your sister talks about you a lot.”

“È un piacere finalmente conoscerti. Lei non parla mai di me quando vinco, però.” He joked, shooting a playful look your way.

“Not true, and you know it.” You rolled your eyes at the comment.

Marco laughed, patting Charles on the shoulder. “Well today, we’ll see if athletic talent runs in the family, sì?”

“Okay, so here we are at the Club d’Escrime in Monaco. This is where my sister trains—when she’s not winning Olympic gold, of course,” he said grinning at you and turning towards the camera.

“We’ve been planning this fencing lesson for many months now, but with her busy training schedule and my racing calendar, it’s been almost impossible to find a day that worked for both of us. So finally, today is the day!” Charles added.

“Did you mention how excited you’ve been?” You quipped, folding your arms.

Charles smirked. “I may have. But, let’s be honest, you’re probably more nervous than I am.”

“Nervous?” You scoffed. “Why would I be nervous? You’re the one holding a weapon for the first time.”

“Ah, but I’ve seen the movies,” he countered, mimicking a clumsy lunge. “How hard can it be?”

You laughed at his theatrics, shaking your head. “We’ll see how long that confidence lasts when Marco puts you through the warm-up.”

“Speaking of which,” Marco interjected, “shall we start soon? Time is short, and I want to see if he can last more than five minutes.”

“You’re in for a workout.” You teased and smiled.

Charles gave an exaggerated sigh but could not hide his amusement. “Great. I love being underestimated.”

“You’re about to learn that fencing isn't as easy as people make it look on TV.” You smiled at the camera.

“Or tiktok.” Charles quipped, earning a chuckle from Marco.

You gestured towards the piste. “Alright, let’s get you geared up. I don’t want to hear any excuses later.”

Once Charles was all suited up, he stepped onto the piste, fully suited in his borrowed fencing gear, and you couldn’t help but pause. There was something striking about the way the jacket, breeches, and long socks suited him. The silver sheen of the lamé, a metallic vest worn over the jacket for scoring, added an almost regal touch. You smirked as you took in the sight of your brother adjusting his gloves.

“Oh my god. I’ve never looked so good.” Charles said as he came out all suited up.

“Would you look at that,” you began, folding your arms. “Hate to admit it, but you look good. Maybe too good.”

Charles glanced up, clearly amused. “Oh? Surprised your brother cleans up well?”

“I’m just saying, if this racing thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future as a fencer. Imagine, Charles Leclerc, Olympic Champion.” You gave him an exaggerated once-over. “The gear suits you.”

“I mean, I do look the part.” He smiled, striking a mock fencing pose, which was more comedic than impressive.

“You do,” you admitted with a laugh. “But let’s see if you can move like a fencer before you start planning your second career.”

“Basta con i complimenti. Time for the warm-up! No excuses later when your legs start complaining.” Marco smiled.

Charles groaned playfully, shooting you a mock glare. “Leg day already gets me in the gym. Don’t let him overdo it.”

“Stop whining,” you teased, motioning for him to follow Marco. “You’ll thank him when you’re not limping tomorrow.”

“We begin easy,” he said, demonstrating a forward bend. “Touch your toes, Charles. Keep your legs straight.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered, glancing at Marco, who was effortlessly folding himself in half.

“Come on, Charlie. You can’t lose to a guy twenty years older than you.” You chuckled from the sidelines, standing near Antoine, who was filming the entire thing.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” Charles quipped, finally managing to graze his toes. “I see you’re enjoying this too much.”

“I am.” You admitted, voice light with laughter.

Next were lunges, which Charles did with ease, his form surprisingly precise. “Now these, I can handle. We do this in the gym all the time.”

“Good. Now arm extensions, long and controlled. Think of reaching for the target.” Charles mirrored Marco’s movements, extending his arms fluidly.

You couldn’t resist teasing, “not bad, Charles. Maybe you’re a natural after all.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, smirking. “See? I’ve got this.”

“Next is jumping jacks,” Marco interrupted, clearly amused by your banter.

Charles transitioned smoothly into the exercise, his movements energetic and practiced. As he worked through the routine, Charles suddenly turned to you, his tone curious.

“Why don’t we ever train together? Seems like it could be fun.” Charles glanced at you.

“Because you’d complain the whole time.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Hey, I don’t complain that much.” He argued, clearly offended.

You just laughed at him, waving a hand dismissively. “Fencing is my thing, Charlie. I need to focus when I’m training, it’s not all fun and games.”

“And today isn’t serious?” Charles raised a brow, pausing mid-jumping jack.

“Not really,” you admitted with a shrug. “Today’s more about proving to you that fencing isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, clearly amused. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

“Charles,” Marco interjected, a mischievous glint in his eye, “your sister has a gold medal, she might surprise you.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said sincerely, before his grin returned. “But I’m still confident I can keep up.”

“That’s the spirit!” You smiled.

”The floor is yours, campionessa.” Marco smiled as he stepped back, and gestured for you to take over.

“Alright,” you turned to Charles. “Let’s start with the basics. This is going to be your crash course in fencing, everything you need to know before you touch the blade.”

Antoine, still filming, zoomed in on Charles’ face as he nodded, looking serious. “I’m ready, let’s hear it.”

“Fencing is one of the oldest sports in the world. It dates back centuries, originally used in dueling and combat training, but over time, it became more of a sport.” You explained. “In fact, fencing has been part of the Olympics since the very first modern games in 1896.”

“1896?” Charles repeated, very intrigued. “So, it’s been around forever.”

“Pretty much,” you confirmed with a smile. “Since then, it’s evolved into three distinct disciplines—foil, sabre, and epee. Each had different rules, strategies, and weapons. That’s what makes fencing so fascinating, you’re not just swinging a sword around. It’s a mind game as much as a physical one, that’s why some call it physical chess.”

Charles tilted his head, clearly interested. “What’s the difference between the three?”

“Come on, let me show you guys.” You walked over to a nearby rack, where several swords were neatly displayed, each one gleaming under the salle’s lights.

“This is a foil.” You picked up a foil, you held it up for him and the viewers to see. “It is the lightest of the three weapons, weighing about 500 grams, and the one I use. Foil fencing focuses on precision and technique, the target area is only the torso, and points are scored with the tip of the blade.”

Charles reached out, and you handed him the foil. He tested the weight of the blade, lifting and lowering it.

“It’s lighter than I thought.” He admitted, giving it a small swing.

“Foils are meant for agility and speed,” you explained. You then picked up a sabre, slightly heavier with a distinct curved guard. “This is a sabre. It’s a bit heavier, and the rules are very different. In sabre, you can score with the edge of the blade, not just the tip, and target area is the upper body—above the waist, including arms and head.”

“Sounds aggressive,” Charles remarked, running his hand along the blade’s flat edge.

“Oh, it is,” you chuckled. “Sabre is all about speed and attack. It’s fast-paced, almost like a sprint compared to foil’s more calculated, chess-like style.”

“And the last one?” Charles asked, pointing to the remaining weapon.

“This is the epee,” you said as you picked up the epee, handing it to him. “It’s the heaviest of the three, about 775 grams, and the target area is the entire body, head to toe. But in epee, there’s no right of way, whoever hits first, scores.”

Charles tested the epee in his grip, nodding thoughtfully. “So it’s more…straightforward?”

“In a way, yes,” you said, setting the sabre and foil back on the rack. “But it can also lead to longer matches since there’s no restriction on who can attack when, you need all the patience you can get when playing epee.”

The camera panned as you gestured for Charles to follow you back to the piste. “Now, let’s talk about the rules. In foil, which is what we’ll be learning today, the target area is just the torso. No arms, legs, and head. If you hit anywhere else, it doesn’t count.”

“Got it,” Charles said. “What about the scoring?”

“In foil, we use something called right of way. It means that the fencer who initiates the attack has priority. If the other fencer wants to score, they have to defend or parry first, and then counterattack.”

You picked up a foil and demonstrated, lunging forward in a quick, fluid motion. “For example, if I attack you like this, you can’t just hit me back. You’d need to block my blade first.”

“So, it’s not just about being faster, it’s about timing.” Charles frowned slightly, absorbing the information.

“Yup,” you said, impressed. “It’s about strategy and reading your opponent’s moves. Now, there are also some practical rules. The piste, the one we are standing on right now, is 14 meters long and 1.5 to 2 meters wide. If you step off, you lose ground or even a point, and you can’t use your off-hand to block, and obviously, no overly aggressive moves like charging into your opponent.”

Charles raised a brow. “No tackling allowed? Shame.”

“Not unless you want to get a penalty.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Lastly, to win a match, you have to reach a predetermined number of points, usually 15, or have the highest score by the end of the time limit.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a quick demonstration of how right of way works in a tournament.” You gestured for Marco to join you, and he grabbed another foil, stepping into position, as Antoine adjusted his camera as you stepped back onto the piste.

“Watch closely,” you instructed as you and Marco faced off. “Marco will attack, and I’ll defend and counter.”

Marco lunged forward with a smooth attack, and you parried, your blades clashing with a satisfying ring before you swiftly riposted, your blade landing lightly on his torso.

Turning to Charles, you explained. “Since I defended first and then countered, I get the point. Make sense?”

Charles nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. “So, if I just swing wildly, it’s useless unless I have priority.”

“Yes,” you said smiling. “Fencing isn’t about brute force, it’s about control, precision, and strategy.”

“This all felt like a masterclass,” Charles chuckled. “This is very incredible stuff.”

Once Charles had a solid grasp of the basic rules and ths purpose of fencing, you decided it was time to get into the technical aspects.

“Alrighty,” you began, pacing in front of him, foil in hand. “Before you can start attacking, you need to learn how to defend yourself. So, let’s talk about parrying.”

“There are four primary parries in fencing, and each one is important for blocking and setting yourself up for a counterattack.” You added.

Charles nodded, gripping the foil in his hand as if ready to jump in. “Alright, I’m listening. Hit me with it.”

“Not literally,” you teased, pointing your foil at him briefly before continuing. “First is parry four. This is your standard parry, used to block attacks aimed at your torso. You bring the blade across your body like this.”

You demonstrated, twisting your wrist and angling your blade so that the imaginary opponent’s strike would be deflected away. Charles mimicked the movement, though his hand was stiff, and his blade angle slightly off.

You leaned in, using the tip of your foil to adjust his blade position. “Loosen your wrist a bit, it’s all about control, not brute strength. The goal is to guide their blade away, not smack it out of their hands.”

“Okay, okay. Got it.” Charles said, trying again. This time, his movement was smoother.

“Better,” you said, stepping back. “Next is parry six. The one is similar to parry four, but instead of protecting the inside of your body, it covers the outside. Like this.” You executed the parry with ease, your blade moving in a fluid arc.

Charles tried to copy the movement, his blade wobbling slightly as he adjusted his wrist.

“Close,” you said, stepping closer. “But watch your wrist, it needs to stay firm, or you’ll lose control of your blade.” You tapped the back of his hand with your foil, and he adjusted accordingly.

“Parry eight is for low attacks to the outside of your body.” You continued, moving on, and crouching slightly, angling your blade downward to demonstrate. “This one is a little tricky because it requires good reflexes. You’re aiming to protect your lower torso and legs.” Charles gave it a go, though his stance was a bit too wide.

“Too much space,” you said, tapping his knee lightly with your blade. “Keep your movements controlled. The smaller the motion, the quicker you can recover.”

“This is harder than it looks.” Charles exhaled, looking at the camera as he adjusted his stance.

“That’s fencing for you,” you said with a grin. “Last one, parry seven. This one is similar to parry eight, but it protects the inside of your body instead of the ourside.”

You demonstrated the motion, and Charles followed suit, this time managing a relatively smooth movement.

“Good,” you said, stepping back. “Now, key things to remember when parrying—keep your blade pointed at your opponent at all times. It’s not just about blocking, it’s about setting yourself up for a counterattack. As soon as you’ve parried, you need to riposte, counterattack, immediately. If you wait too long, you’ll lose your advantage.”

Marco stepped forward, foil in hand, and you turned to Charles. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You squared off with Marco, and as he lunged forward with a mock attack, you parried effortlessly, your blade gliding against his and redirecting it away. In the same motion, you extended your arm, blade tip landing lightly on Marco’s torso.

“See how quick that was?” You said, turning to Charles. “It’s a fluid motion—parry and riposte, all in one go. No wasted movements.”

Charles nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Alright, let me try.”

You stepped aside, letting Marco face Charles. As Marco slowly lunged, Charles attempted a parry, though his movement was slightly delayed, and his riposte lacked precision.

“Not bad,” you said encouragingly. “But don’t overthink it. The more natural it feels, the faster you’ll be.”

“Okay, let’s talk about stance,” you said, planting your feet firmly on the piste. “Your stance is your foundation, if it’s wrong, everything else falls apart.”

You demonstrated, keeping your feet shoulder-width apart, one foot pointing forward and the other at a slight angle.

“Your dominant hand is the one holding the foil. The non-dominant hand stays behind you, raised slightly for balance. So, which hand are you using?” You asked.

“Right.” Charles said, switching the foil to his dominant hand.

“Good,” you said. “Now, copy my stance.”

Charles mirrored your position, though his back foot was slightly out of place.

“Close, but—” you tapoed his leg lightly with your foil. “Your back foot needs to be at an angle, like this. Don’t forget to bend your knees slightly. You need to stay low for balance and quick movement.”

“Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly when Charles adjusted his stance. “Now let’s work on movement. When you’re in your stance, you need to be able to move forward, backward, and side-to-side quickly withou losing your balance.”

You demonstrated, gliding forward and backward with small, controlled steps. “Notice how my feet stay the same distance apart, no matter where I go. That keeps me balanced and ready to attack or defend.”

Charles followed your lead, though his movements were a bit stiff.

“Relax,” you said, smiling. “You’re not marching in the military. It’s more like a dance, fluid and controlled.” He tried again, this time loosening up slightly.

“Better,” you said. “Now let’s add a lunge, the lunge is your main attacking move. From your stance, you push off your back leg and extend your front leg forward, like this.” You demonstrated, your movement smooth and precise. Charles attempted the motion, but his lunge was too short.

“Bigger step,” you said, tapping his front leg with your foil. “You want fo cover as much ground as possjble without overextending.” After a few tries, he managed a decent lunge.

“Not bad,” you said, stepping back. “You’re getting there. Now, let’s put it all together—stance, movement, parries, and lunges. You ready?”

Charles grinned, gripping his foil. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright,” you said, picking up the body cord, “before we start, we need to get you all hooked up.”

Charles tilted his head, examining the cord. “What’s that for?”

“This is a body cord,” you explained, stepping closer to attach it to his fencing jacket. “It connects your weapon to the scoring system. When you land a valid touch, the electrical circuit completes, and the scoreboard registers the point.”

“So no sneaky hits?” He joked, watching closely as you secured it to his back and guided it through the sleeves of his jacket to attach to the foil.

“Not unless you want the referee to see it light up,” you quipped, making sure everything was in place before handing him a fencing mask. “Here, put this on.”

“For this first round, we’re keeping it simple, call it a trial run,” you said, rolling your shoulders and flexing your foil. “Marco will referee and keep things light. Just focus on getting comfortable.”

“Got it. Don’t go easy on me, though.” Charles raised his foil slightly, his excitement evident in his stance.

You laughed. “Trut me, Charles, I won’t.”

Marco stepped onto the side of the piste, holding a referee’s clicked in one hand. “Alright, trial run. I’ll call the touches. En garde!”

You and Charles took your positions at opposite ends of the piste, foils raised in salite before dropping into the en garde stance.

“Prêt? Allez!” Marco called, signaling the start of the bout.

Charles moved hesitant at first, testing his footing as he advanced. You let him come forward, observing his movements.

“Don’t forget your stance,” you reminded him, stepping back slightly. “Stay balanced.”

He nodded, adjusting his feet, and made a tentative lunge. Charles’ foil grazed your blade, missing the target area entirely.

“Close,” you said, countering with a light touch to his torso. Marco raised his hand. “Touch!”

Charles shook his head, laughing. “Okay, that was fast. Was that even one second?”

“Welcome to fencing,” you said with a grin. “It’s all about timing. Relax, though you’re doing fine.”

As the trial run continued, Charles began finding his rhythm. He landed his first touch on your shoulder, earing a quick ‘touch!’ from Marco.

“How does it feel?” You asked, stepping back for a brief pause.

Charles grinned under his mask. “Not bad! Are you nervous yet?”

“Me? Nervous?” You teased. “Cute. Let’s see how you handle the next round round.”

The second round began, and Charles was much more deliberate in his movements. He used the parries you had taught him, successfully blocking two of your attacks and landing another touch on your shoulder.

“Not bad, Lord Perceval,” you said, nodding as you reset your stance. “You’re learning quickly.”

“Of course,” he replied, his voice light with mock arrogance. “I’m a Leclerc. We adapt fast.”

By the end of the round, Marco called for a pause. “Alright, let’s use the scoreboard for the next one.”

“See this?” Marco said, pointing to the display. “Every valid touch will light up here with a beep. First to fifteen points wins.”

Charles noticed the screen, which displayed yor names, complete with small Monaco flags next to them.

“Wait, you personalized it?” He asked, laughing. “Now I feel like I’m in the Olympics.”

“Of course,” you said with a grin. “Nothing but the best for my big brother.”

Charles chuckled, lifting his foil again. As you adjusted your own, you bent the blade slightly, an action that caught his attention.

“Why are you doing that?” He asked.

“It’s something all fencers do,” you explained, holding the blade up for him to see. “Foils are flexible, and bending them ensures they’re in good condition and won’t snap. It also helps make the touches more accurate and less painful.”

“Huh,” Charles said, mimicking the motion with his own foil. “Interesting.”

“Alright, this is it,” you said, lowering your mask. “First to fifteen.”

Marco raised his hand. “En garde! Prêt? Allez!”

The boug began, and Charles quickly demonstrated his growing confidence. He moved fluidly, landing a few clean touches on your torso and arm. You could see his competitiveness kicking in, and you responded with sharper attacks, forcing him to parry and riposte.

Halfway through, the score was tied at 7-7, and the beeping sound of the scoreboard filled the room with each touch.

“You’re doing great.” You said during a brief pause.

“Thanks,” Charles replied, panting slightly. “But I’m not letting you win.”

“Good,” you said, resetting your stance. “Because I’m not letting you win, either.”

The intensity ramped up in the final stretch. Charles managed to land three more touches, bringing his total to ten, but you quickly countered with a series of precise attacks, pushing your score to fifteen.

Marco raised his hand as the final beep sounded. “Touché! Match for her—15 to 10!”

“Lifting your mask, you grinned at Charles, who pulled off his own mask, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was incredible,” he said, still catching his breath. “I actually thought I had you for a moment there.”

“Well fought, champ! Ten points is impressive for a first timer, you did really great.” You said, resting your foil on your shoulder. “But I told you, fencing isn’t easy as it looks.”

Charles laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yeah, no kidding. I think I’ll stick to racing.”

Marco, who had been observing with a smile, stepped in. “You were actually good for a beginner. You’re a fast learner, Charles. I’ve work with a lot of first-timers, and not many can pick up that quickly.”

“That’s true,” you chimed in nodding. “You were way better than I expected. Usually, people take ages to figure out how to lunge properly or keep their stance balanced.”

Charles’ grin widened. “Well, what can I say? It’s in my blood to be competitive.”

Marco laughed, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “You should come by more often during her trainings. You’d make a good parry partner.”

“Oh stop feeding his ego,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s already huge.”

Charles gave a mock bow. “Keep it coming, Marco. I’m soaking it all in.”

Marco just smiled as the camera zoomed in on you both as he continued. “Not, really, Charles. If you’re free diring off-season, you should consider it. You’d give her a good challenge, and it would keep her on her toes.”

“Hmm…” Charles leaned on his foil again, pretending to consider the offer. “Fencing during off-season. I might actually think about that.”

You laughed. “Sure, if you can handle beaten every time.”

“Bold words. But we’ll see.” Charles grinned. “So, what’s next for you? You’ve already won the Olympics. Where do you go from here?”

“Next up is the Fencing World Cup. It’s coming up in a few months, so I’m focused on preparing for that.” You smiled, feeling the excitement bubbling inside of you.

Charles nodded. “If people want fo follow your journey, where can they find you?”

“Everywhere.” You said with a laugh, then added, “but seriously, you guys can follow me on my social media. If you are curious about up coming tournaments, you can check out Team Monaco’s offical instagram. They post all of the updates there.”

Charles turned to the camera. “There you have it, guys.” He then faced you and Marco. “I just want to say thank you, for real. I know your schedules are crazy, and you took time to teach me something completely out of my comfort zone. I really had fun.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, Charles.” Marco smiled warmly. “You’re a natural. Who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll be on the piste at a tournament.”

Charles laughed, shaking his head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You did great today,” you grinned, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll see you fencing for Monaco one day.”

Charles smiled. “Only if you promise not to embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“No promises.” You teased.

Marco gestured toward the camera. “Alright, shall we wrap this up?”

You, Charles, and Marco all faced the lens. “Thanks for watching!” You said with a wave. “Remember, fencing is cooler than you think.”

“And harder than it looks!” Charles added. “Thank you both for taking the time to teach me, I had a blast today. It’s always fun learning new things.”

“Of course, Charlie!” You replied warmly. “We’ll be waiting for your next fencing session.”

“You’re always welcome, Charles.” Marco smiled. “Just don’t take too long to return, alright? We might have to recruit you into the team at this rate!”

All of you laughed as you said your goodbyes, and with that, the video came to a close, screen fading into black.

twitter posts

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilyzneimer, landonorris, lilymhe and 88,746 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, gaiusthecaracal

yn.jpg just a regular day at the office (bonus: taught charles fencing, see slide 4! 😁)

view all 10,837 comments

username8 never knew i needed to see charles in a fencing gear up until now 😮‍💨 THANK YOU MOTHER!

landonorris can’t believe you taught charles first, i thought i was gonna be the first one 😞💔

yn.jpg sorry, big brother privileges 😔✊🏻

charles_leclerc what she said! 😁❤️

landonorris i see that you have taken my advice

yn.jpg yes, and i owe it all to you sir 🫡

landonorris when will u be our quadrant athlete 😔🤲🏻

yn.jpg idk bro, what do they do? 🤨

yn.jpg just hit up my personal coach 😁

landonorris ME NEXT PLS

yn.jpg THERE ARE A LOT OF YOU WANTING ME TO TEACH YOU ALL FENCING 😭😭😭

lilymhe I ASKED HER FIRST! FALL IN LINE!!

landonorris IM HER BEST FRIEND

landonorris BESTIE PRIVILEGES

yourbestfriend EXCUSE ME????

landonorris EXCUSED

username9 WE FINALLY GOT A JPG ACCOUNT??? ACTIVE ERA IS UPON US?????

yn.jpg u guys really gotta thank lando for convincing me on making one bc apparently according to him, i always “ghost” you all 😞💔

username9 OHMGYGOSD I LOVE YOU 😭

username10 GAIUS 🥺🥺🥺🥺

username11 CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING 😭😭😭

username12 petition for you to have a yt acc or tiktok or smth 😔😔😔😔

username13 and then what? we all ended up being ghosted 😔😔😔😔

username13 she barely posts on instagram, and now that she has a jpg account, i’ll take what i can get tl have some y/n content 😔😔😔💔💔💔

username12 omg u right 😭😭😭

username14 ok, scuderiaferrari, just hear me out this once…what if y/n teaches charlos fencing on a tiktok or yt vid? huh huh huh, wouldn’t that be a great idea, right? 😁

scuderiaferrari hmmm, i think you might be onto something 🤔🤔🤔

username15 i will sacrifice my first born for this to happen 🤲🏻

username16 we are BEGGING, on our knees

username17 charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me. charles leclerc in fencing gear, save me 🛐

[levibecker]

“Now that’s better.” Levi jested at his friend’s agreement on their now infamous lunch outings during a work day. Though as they continued their pretty short walk off of the resort campus to find food, the way Marco’s expression seemingly fell once more didn’t go unnoticed. There was something off. Levi may have not have been around Briar Ridge his entire life, he’d known Marco well for the years he had been in town. “You’re still getting used to it all again. I’m sure it’s..a lot of processing you know?I get it.” He nodded, truthfully finding himself perplexed to additionally hear there seemed to be some trouble going on between him and Cali. When he’d ran into her in the area and they spoke, Levi didn’t seem to get the impression that she didn’t want to talk to Marco at all. “In what ways have you noticed things being off?” He asked, figuring they could start there since that definitely didn’t seem like his friend and Cali. Anyone would have to be blind to not see their deep connection. “Yeah, definitely.” Levi instantly agreed with a grin. “That’s the burger place that was recently renovated too, right?” 

"That's for sure." Marco agreed with a chuckle. Their lunch dates had become a staple for him. And he wasn't about to mess with their schedule. "Ay ay, captain!" he mocked a salute as they fell into step with each other outside of the resort's campus. But his attitude turned a bit more serious when Levi asked about why he'd been so distracted. Running a hand down his face, Marco let out a frustrated sigh. "I dunno man, I guess I just had different expectations of how things would go once I got out of prison and it feels like they're not going the way I thought they would." That wasn't completely true. He'd gotten his job back at Alvaro's, where he was doing really well. He was getting all the quality time he could possibly want with his niece. Life really was going well except for one in particular area. Cali. "Things just have felt so off with Cali since I got out and I don't know how to get it back to the way they used to be." he admitted after a moment, before considering Levi's question. "You know what, I could really go for a burger, wanna check out that place on the pier?"

[cloudluvrrr]

Before.

boothill childhood sweetheart headcannons.

—

a/n: A PROMISE IS A PROMISE 🤞🤞🤞 and I delivered 😍💪 srry ab being mia been busy playing splatoon. My bootyhill is almost MAXXED out yall 😛😛.Boothill gives me Adrianne Lenker vibes yk I can’t be the only one help anyways enjoy this 😛 long asf and I don’t believe in proof reading.

— Precyborg: Boothill x g/n reader

tw warning : fluff and sad ending bc we can’t have a happy one according to hoyoverse !! 💕

—

ingyadar - Adrianne Lenker

my kind of women - Mac de Marco

The hitchhikers guide to the galaxy - ARTMS

-

-I feel like you and Boothill would be childhood lovers yk? Like you two were close friends and ended up catching feelings (I would too) always hanging around each other and getting into trouble l together.

-because to me he grew up in a small town with a big family (I think of like those towns in cowboy movies 😭)

-especially in highschool, but not for long. I’d think Boothill dropped out during freshman year(?) to help with his dads but you continued your studies.

-when confronted about it he scoffed and said ‘don’t need no fancy algebra or biology.’ He’d say.

-he’d see you at school (during lunch) and you two would usually hang out after school. Or during festivals or parties.

-scenario-

You two would always sneak away to the lake when it would get boring, giggling and laughing along the way. This time it was during a town festival, everyone in town went so of course no one would notice if two highschools went missing.

So off you two went giggling as you stumbled behind him holding his hand (in a platonic way ofc). “Boothill wait up!” You’d giggle as you slid down the hill. “Hurry or the sheriff will get us!” He’d shout as he helped you up, and the two of you began to splash water on each other. Up until night and his dads caught him with you again

—

-things like that would often happen, anytime one was missing they’d always assume the other would tag along

-your families of course always shipped you two. And knew eventually you’d date (spoilers you do)

- he’d confess to you on a random summer afternoon. While you two sat on his bed in his room

— you two sat on his bed looking around nervously and awkwardly. It was never like this, Boothill would usually say something but he didn’t, he’s open his mouth but nothing came out. His mouth felt dry, unable to confess. But he mustered up the courage.

‘hey.. I, uh” he began before sighing “I really.. really REALLY like you” he finished with a red face as he looked you in the eyes. As you’d giggle nervously and soon turned into a good laugh. “I really like you too Boothill” you said softly kissing his cheek. As he nearly fainted and tackled you into a hug. ‘Finally’ he’d think to himself

-

- now that you two are dating nothing much has changed. Other than kisses and leaving the door open when you two hang out (his dads are concerned about him doing funny stuff to you)

-not a day went by that you wouldn’t be with him, at his house or yours.

-he liked pet names mostly using ‘baby’ or your name.

-he knew how to play guitar they taught him in school, but he learned it on his own and would often serenade to you.

-he’d love cuddling though, in his bed specifically. Yours is too crowed for his liking. (He has one pillow). And play a few records he managed to snag that were imported from a different planet

- the sun painted the sky a pink and orange hue, as your laid in boothills arms dozing off to the soft music in the background. As he whispered sweet nothings to you and some jokes that kept you up giggling. “Your cute you know” he chuckled kissing you temple as she squeezed you

-

-an example of how you’d spend your days, other than teasing and bullying each other 😜

-he was dirt poor. So often he’d ask you for money, which would end up in you hitting his head. But giving in as long as he got you something (most of the time it was burgers 😔)

— up until your graduated, he’d always say how he wanted to leave his dads and live alone with you. So secretly (somehow I don’t know) he’d built a small house with his buddies. ( I feel like you’d move until you were like 20 ig)

-so you’d pack up everything and moved in to the small Cabin. It was small a two small rooms and bathrooms with a big enough kitchen. Also including a farm (of fucking course). Housing his horse, two cows, and a chick coop. A barn dog and cat :3

-you lived comfortably and happily, you’d stay at home and he’s venture off to help others or sell your farm goods.

-he couldn’t propose, he barely had any savings left after buying your couch. So it often got postponed, you didn’t mind (your parents did)

—

-it was a winter night. Boothill was god knows where and you worked in the kitchen making a simple stew. As your pregnant house cat meowed for a piece of beef, you were scolding the cat as Boothill entered the home with a small bundle of blankets in his arms as he closed the door. “Your home.. what’s that?” You’d asked before he walked over showing you the small girl.

“WHOS KID DID YOU KIDNAP” you shouted, startling the little who began to fuss “you idiot I found her..!” He hissed “we don’t have anything for a baby boothill, you know that” you said sighing “I know.. but I couldn’t leave her out there! That’s how my dads found me ya know, aren’t you glad they didn’t leave me to die?” He asked huffing “..sometimes” you shrugged.

—

— there began your journey as parents, you’d sew dresses and onesies for her. As well as ask both of your parents for old baby things, Boothill had a rough time setting up basically everything

‘You can build a house but not a crib’

‘Shut up nerd’

—

You stood outside putting the laundry out to dry on the clothesline. And watched from the corner of your eye the little one and Boothill. As he sat in the shade holding her small guitar he’d made for her, as she sat in the middle and giggled at the kittens playing around her. She’d grown, about 8 months and beginning to walk.

“Da” she said pointing to a certain kitten “yup that’s a kitty” he chuckled watching her gently touch the fluffy ball of fur and giggled. Eventually waddling up to him and falling into his lap as she snuggled him and fell asleep. The sight tugging at your heart strings.

-

-most of your days were spent like that, her playing with the cats. Her waddling around the home or her touching her guitar Boothill made her.

- up until that fateful day, he’d planned to propose to you before he overheard the damn ipc officers joking about burning the town. He didn’t believe it until he saw it. Everything covered in flames, making sure to leave no survivors. And all he could do was watch as the tears fell from his eyes.

- after

he’d often lay in a run down hotel room, in his own head. Admiring the cheap ring he’d finally gotten you, and one you’d never get to wear. Fiddling with it with his metal fingers as he returned it to the small box.

‘I miss you baby’

-

_ 😜😜

STREAM ARTMS 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

THIA IS CHAOTIC BUT these r my thoughts

comment like and subscribe 😘😘

I’m not ready for Ruan mei & Argenti rerun 😔💔

my requests open 🤞 look at my pinned post for rules and who I write for 😈😈

[mvrtaiswriting]

Hello 🤗 can I request no6 from the drunk prompts for your event with ace?

Portgas D. Ace x prompt 6 (drunk prompts) - “okay, i think that’s enough for tonight.”

ofc you can, tysm for participating!! hope this is okay :) i love writing for ace eheh - I hope this is okay and that it meets your expectations! enjoy and lmk what you think <333

gender neutral reader | mention of alcohol / drunken behaviour | 808 words.

reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated ♡ if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee. -> from this event.

A familiar warmth rapidly spread across your cheeks as you chucked down yet another drink, Thatch swiftly preparing one pint after the other. The whole ship echoed with laughter, loud music playing in the background as a bunch of crew members tunelessly sang their usual chants.

"To us!"

The clicking sound of two glasses followed your words as you cheered with Marco. His usual seriousness was now replaced by the boldness only a good drink can give, and for once, Marco was having fun with all of you - drinking more than he could handle, playing stupid games and blurting out embarrassing things he would regret in the morning. After all, you deserved it - you had just escaped a real-life nightmare, obtaining yet another Poneglyph and surviving a clash with one of the four emperors, continuing Whitebeard's legacy and honouring his name. For the first night in weeks, you could finally let your guard down.

When Izou took your hand, letting you get up from your seat just to swing you around and luring you into a dance with him, you couldn't help but laugh, following his movements. His body felt warm against yours, his experienced hands resting on your hips as he swayed you from one direction to another. Regardless of your goofy movements, everyone was cheering on the two of you - everyone but Ace.

The fire fist remained silent, sitting on the bench you were just sharing with him, sipping on his drink and keeping his eyes locked on you. His pupils kept scanning your figure, the way your stumbled during your dance and the places Izou's hands wondered around your body. The slightest sparkle of jealousy started in his heart as he saw the love of his life in the arms of another man - someone he could never compete with. Ace wondered whether the attentions you were giving to his fellow comrade were out of affection, or love, or alcohol. Sure - every time you drank you often grew cuddlier, gifting hugs and snuggling with him and Marco; but this time it was different. This time, your body was pressed against one of the strongest commanders among the Whitebeard's crew, and you seemed to look at him the way you should have looked at Ace.

Ace was brought back to reality when you slammed your hands on the table, a loud laugh escaping your lips as you tried to keep yourself from falling.

"Hi fire boi." you called, poking his nose.

Smiling in response, Ace lightly tapped his hand on the bench, inviting you to take place next to him. Accepting his invitation, you were quick to snuggle against him, your head now resting on his shoulder.

"Had fun?"

Ace asked, his words sounding more bitter than intended. Only nodding in response, you snatched his drink off his hands and took a sip, the stinging taste of rum making you scrunch your nose. Attempting to put the glass down, you clumsily smashed it against the table, knocking down a few other drinks that were now spilling all over and soaking all of your clothes.

“Okay, i think that’s enough for tonight.”

Ace said, taking what was left of the glasses off your hand and helping you get up. You couldn't help but chuckle at the mess you made, worsening your staggering and only making it easier for you to fall. Ace's arm was quick to wrap around your waist, holding you tightly and gently helping you make your way to your room. The path to your bedroom was not without obstacles, and when you finally made it to bed Ace could finally relax again.

"Take this."

Ace said, taking off his shirt. Ironically, earlier that night he had spent hours searching through his wardrobe, trying to find a shirt that would suit him perfectly - he wanted to look nice, and he wanted you to notice. Yet, here he was again - standing shirtless in front of you. A giggle escaped your lips as you appreciated the sight in front of you - regardless of how many times you had seen his abs or lazily traced the freckles on his chest, Ace was still doing it for you. Mumbling a weak thank you, you changed into his clothes.

"Don't need to turn around." you teased, seeing Ace flustered reaction.

The mere act of your fingers reaching the hems of your own shirt made painted Ace's cheeks of a crimson red, quickly turning around to give you some privacy.

"You clearly had enough drinks." Ace remarked.

"Not enough to regret this in the morning."

Getting up from your bed, you walked towards him. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you rested your head against his muscular back.

"Sleep here tonight, mh?" you whispered against his skin, leaving a kiss on his shoulder blade.

[xamaxenta]

Ok reading your tags and now I’m curious canon marco x modern Marco

The healthiest most stable canon/modern pair for sure, they’d probably do some nerdy shit like 20 questions that they made specifically for themselves should this scenario ever occur and theyd both be equally pleased to find that their answers coincide within reason

Anyway modern Marco introducing soaps and tv dramas to his canon self bc HE KNOWS he will love them and they can bitch about the poor writing or what about the cheesy love triangles they loved

And ofc they probably cuddle and kiss and stuff very cute

Compared to the Aces mauling fucking handsiness with each other and Sabo bullying himself lol

[levieske]

𝟐.𝟏 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

previous - masterlist - next

Cora woke up feeling bittersweet. She rolled on her bed, trying to avoid the light that escaped into her room. After some grumping, she finally got up, closing the curtains midway through. The sun had woken her up earlier than she expected, but alas she suspected she wouldn’t be able to get much more sleep anyway.

Sneaking in the night before, Cora stumbled around until she changed her bloody clothes to her favorite graphic tee. She hid under the covers, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. The events replayed in her head, the guilt eating her out for not being honest with Mikasa.

They barely exchanged any words after leaving the vault, Mikasa was probably too shocked to bring up what had happened. Her best friend would be either terrified of Cora or thinking she was playing with her. Cora wasn’t too fond of any of the options, but she hoped Mikasa would just get angry at her for “joking” like that.

Realistically speaking, there wasn’t exactly a way of explaining what she did without digging her own grave deeper. Cora didn’t fully understand it herself.

The girl massaged her temples. It wasn’t humanly possible for her to cover up everything. She shouldn’t have gotten Mikasa into this to begin with. She would have to deal with her later, as there were unfinished business with Mikasa’s vampire relative still, who was conveniently locked up in a fucking basement waiting for her.

Sounds like the perfect weekend. It checks all the boxes: sneak out with your best friend, visit a cemetery at night, trespass an old tomb and awaken an immortal being with unknown intentions.

Cora chuckled at her thoughts and finally decided to get out of her room to have a shower. Refreshed and much less bloody, she got back to her bedroom and put on a pair of wide jeans and a short-sleeved top. As she was applying mascara to her lashes, her phone vibrated on her pocket.

Marco

Heyy

When do I pick you up??

She completely forgot. Marco had plans with her that afternoon, they were going to try a new dinner near her house. Cora exhaled and threw herself on her bed, debating on her answer. It wasn’t like she could just cancel him; it was an opportunity she had been dying to get after all.

Cora mentally insulted the blood-thirsty man waiting for her.

Cora

Hi

At 7:30?

Marco

Perfect

She put her phone down. The blonde would have to be quick with Levi if she wanted her date to go right. But she was completely lost as to where she was going to find the blood to give him.

No, offering herself wasn’t on the table. She might be stupid for helping him, but not suicidal. Also, not homicidal, she wasn’t going to give him a random civilian to devour.

Cora laid on her bed, as she thought about it over and over again. She didn’t want to cause any harm because of her stupid decision making. There was still an option, one that wouldn’t be as bad as completely offering herself.

She inspected the cut on her wrist. It wasn’t deep, barely a scratch really, but it drew a little blood. If she were careful, she might be able to get more, just enough without bleeding to death and all. Cora exhaled and got her wet hair out of her face. She could easily off herself by mistake.

But it had to be done. Cora had made a promise and she didn’t want to get any other person involved into this mess. It was her mess, so she dealt with it.

The first step was taking a knife and a bottle from her kitchen. It was a miracle her parents had decided to go on their weekly walk earlier that morning, but she didn’t plan on questioning it. Cora then brought a disinfectant ointment and a bandage to her bedroom. She created some space on her desk for everything she needed, putting away her stuff and grabbing the journal. She safely stored it inside her bag. She had many questions for the vampire, but so would he.

She hoped he wouldn’t be too angry about having read his journal.

Cora swallowed when she had the knife in hand. She positioned it near her wrist, horizontally, as she moved her arms over the bottle. Applying a little pressure, she was able to make a cut. The girl bit her lip; it did hurt. But she endured it. Cora was able to fill a third of the bottle, more or less. It wasn’t much, but she was feeling dizzy and she didn’t want to risk it.

She cleaned and disinfected her wound, covering it with the bandages she had brought. Whatever she was planning on wearing that evening, it better hide the bandages. She didn’t want to worry Marco, or her parents for that matter.

Cora put back the disinfectant and washed the knife. She leaned over the sink in the kitchen, breathing heavily. Taking her hair out of the way, splashed some water on her face.

“Okay, it’s done.”

It was time.

She put on a sweater and grabbed her bag, reminiscing of the day she first saw what Levi looked like.

[brave-and-gentle]

Name me: 1. a Jean ship you like, 2. a Jean pairing you don’t entirely ship but do enjoy reading/looking at fanart, and 3. a Jean ship you don’t like/understand.

Love, LOVE, love this question anon, ty <3

A Jean ship I like: Jean x EB, ofc. Okay okay, for real though - JEANMARCO :'') I'll be holding a candle for Jeanmarco for the rest of my life. During my first AoT watch I was like "that's it. those boys. they are in love. and only tragedy will befall them." They deserved better!! (Jeanpiku is a close second, Jean would be down soooo bad for Pieck's eccentricity). It's devastating to me that Marco's death was the spark for Jean's character arc - let the boy live!! And let Jean keep his character arc! Can you imagine if they were Scouts together ugh :')

A Jean pairing I don't entirely ship, but I enjoy: Jarmin (is that what we're calling it?? Jean x Armin??) is really cute to me. I don't actively ship it because I'm distracted by my other Jean ships, but I really enjoy their relationship, platonic or otherwise. They learn a lot from each other and have a shared understanding of the world (imo). And Armin is always awkwardly in between Jean and Eren when they're fighting <3

Oof, a Jean ship I don't like/understand. Here we go. Jeankasa. I will explain myself. Intellectually, I understand Jeankasa. They've experienced this huge trauma together. They've fought side-by-side as comrades for years. They share strong feelings for Eren (hate, love, everything in between). They both hope for a better world, against all odds. And yet. Emotionally, I feel nothing for Jeankasa. I can't recall any scene with those two where they share any sort of romantic connection. They're comrades and friends, that's for sure, but I don't see it going any farther than that. If they were together romantically, I see them as a sort of found family, but at the same time, I think both would be left wanting more. Jean is too close to Eren's personality for Mikasa, so there's *always* going to be the comparison. Jean wants this wild, crazy love, but that's never going to be her. Whew! Jeankasa shippers, I see you, I hear you, let's still be friends, okay? <3

[sirowsky]

An Unexpected Valentine

Summary: While on a mission to check out some anomalous energy readings, Marcus somehow ends up passing through a rift in spacetime, accidentally shifting himself into an alternate reality, where all of nature is bioluminescent and humans are not the dominant species, leaving their dwindling numbers fighting for the survival of their race.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ONLY Warnings: Marcus Moreno x OFC, entirely Marcus POV, smut, not exactly dubious consent but Marcus gets mildly coerced. Light angst, Missy makes a guest appearance. Word count: 2838

There was no prelude or strange sound, no intuitive feeling warning him that he was about to leave everything known and familiar. He just took a step, and the world was gone. Replaced by a very different, and yet, breathtakingly beautiful one.

Everything glowed, from the smallest little flower to the giant trees and even the mountain tops. But these plants were all different as well. All the trees ten times the size of any normal one back home, every flower seemingly able to move at will, and no insects buzzed around them.

He had just taken all this in when there was a started gasp behind him, and he whirled around to find a woman there. Small and much too thin, as if she'd never had a good meal in her life. But still breathtakingly beautiful. Her skin glowing just like the rest of this world, and her pale grey eyes seeming to sparkle like silver glitter.

"Hello," he tried, but she didn't seem to understand it.

She did seem to grow less fearful of him at the sound, though. Carefully approaching before cautiously taking a turn around him, as if assessing him. When she got back to his front, she stopped and just stood there for a moment, staring into his eyes as if looking for unspoken secrets at the bottom of a well.

Then she suddenly grabbed his hand and started dragging him along a trampled path through the woods, holding on to him so firmly that his fingers threatened to go numb.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm following along willingly, no need to break my hand."

Again, she offered no response, and after another minute, a little house appeared at the edge of a small lake.

"Is this your place?" he asked, starting to feel dumb for expecting her to answer, but feeling equally uncomfortable in total silence.

She walked through the door, pulling him in behind her, not letting go of him until he was safely behind her as she closed and bolted the door. A quick study of the building revealed it to be old. Probably hundreds of years, yet in good condition. It was all wood and despite the age of it, it looked healthy and strong.

She kept peering through the little window in the top half of the door for a minute before seeming to decide they were safe, making him wonder what exactly she might be worried was making them unsafe...

"Is there something dangerous out there?"

Still no reply, but she turned around and met his eyes again, and this time, she looked considerably more fearful of him.

"I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm Marcus," he said, pointing to himself and repeating just the name.

"Marcos..." she repeated, getting the pronunciation slightly wrong but he didn't attempt to correct her. "Halo," she continued then, pointing to herself.

She pronounced it differently than the English word halo, though. The A sounding less like cake and more like bard. He repeated it back to her, and it made her smile. But then she heard something outside and rushed to one of the windows in the back of the house.

"What is it?" he wondered while he followed her, and she seemed to understand the gist of his question at least, because she said something and then pointed to a large tree about a hundred feet away.

It took him a few beats to see what the problem was, but once he did, her fearful demeanor outside started to make a lot more sense. The tree was moving. Slowly pulling up its roots and dragging itself closer to the house. As he continued to watch, a small animal then passed in front of it, at which point, the tree used its branches to snatch it off the ground so quickly he couldn't even see it.

It was brought to the center of the crown where the largest branches then began to squeeze the little critter into a cavity, where it would presumably be trapped alive while the tree extracted its nutrients.

"Trees here eat people?" Marcus wondered aloud, mostly just because he needed to hear that sentence out loud, and then a shiver went through him. "That's absolutely terrifying."

No wonder the damned things were so much bigger here than in his own world. And it could also explain why humans here were apparently smaller than normal, since they probably couldn't find much meat to eat anymore. He wondered if perhaps even edible plants were scarce, given how starved this woman was despite living in the middle of the most thriving woodland he'd ever seen.

Halo gave him a look which clearly seemed to say that life here was always terrifying for one reason or another. Then she nodded towards a different part of the house, what he would call the living room, before starting to head there, so he followed. Once there, she opened up what resembled a whiteboard cabinet, like what teachers might have in classrooms, except there was no whiteboard inside the narrow cabinet.

Instead, there was a very large and complex map over the area, presumably one drawn by Halo herself, given that her house was at the center of it. Going by that logic, the map seemed to depict the diameter she'd been able to explore around her dwelling, and while it was extensive, there was no other human living within that area, as far as he could tell.

"You're completely alone?" he asked, pointing to himself and then to her, before gesturing to the scope of the map.

She answered by repeating the movements and then shaking her head, before motioning for him to follow, taking him to a window at the side of the house where he could see a grave outside.

"Your mother? Or father, maybe."

Somehow, he got the feeling that this woman hadn't been around many men, so he guessed that she had been raised by her mother. Tapping lightly at his arm to get his attention, she then shocked him by pointing at his groin, while saying something which sounded like a question.

What could she possibly mean by that? Was she asking if he was a man? Or if she could see his... man-parts?

"Uh... I'm sorry, I don't understand."

That seemed to make her a bit shy, but it wasn't until she started undressing that he worked out why.

"No, no, no! There's no need for that," he said while trying to stop her from untying the bra-like top she was wearing.

But his reaction made her very sad. Confused, he watched as she once again returned to the map and started trying to explain something, gesturing to the entirety of it and then to herself. She finished by putting up one index finger. One. Alone. And suddenly he got it.

For all of her exploration, he was the only man she'd ever met. Her only chance to procreate, possibly ever.

"Halo..." he started, but didn't know how to say it. "I can't begin to imagine how lonely you are, but... this isn't how we do things in my world. If I can figure out how to get back you could come with me, and have your pick of men. Find the one who would make you happy. But I can't just do the deed and then leave you here."

However much she understood, his meaning clearly came across, because she was crying by the time he fell silent. Somehow feeling rotten about having rejected her, even though he wanted to believe he was doing the right thing, he slumped down on a chair and dropped his head in his hands.

It seemed he'd underestimated her resolve, though, because a moment later, he was being shoved back in the chair while she climbed into his lap, working frantically to undo his belt before he could stop her. His initial reaction was to snag her hands and push her back, but she was a lot stronger than he'd anticipated, getting past both his belt and the buttons of his jeans before he could get a grip on her.

But he only managed one of her hands, while the other one slipped inside his underwear and started exploring, drawing a strong reaction from his manhood. There was something mildly intoxicating about the idea of letting her do whatever she wanted. The only thing holding him back being the notion that she wasn't really acting on desire so much as desperation.

His internal debate aside, her ministrations were quickly sending his resolve south, and before he'd managed to reach a decision, she'd freed him from his briefs and started trying to lower herself onto him. But this was presumably her first time and he wasn't exactly small, especially against her petite form, so her attempts were halted by the pain it caused her to try and simply shove him in before she was ready.

Finally making his choice, Marcus stopped her by standing up, moving over to a thick rug on the middle of the floor, and lowering himself down so that he was on top of her. Then he licked his fingertips, moved his hand down underneath her small, skirt-like bottom piece, finding her naked behind it, and started working her, so she'd know that he wasn't trying to stop her.

She responded so beautifully to his touch, losing herself in the pleasure in just a few seconds. And the more aroused she got, the brighter her skin shined, even seeming to shed a light shimmer into the air, which smelled heavenly to him. Wanting to taste it, he kissed her, feeling her bewildered response before she relaxed into it, letting her tongue dance with his and seeking more whenever he tried to pull back.

She tasted even better than she smelled, driving his own arousal to its peak, so he dipped a couple of fingers into her, finding her gushing wet and eagerly pliant. Frustrated with the restraint to his movements, he then kicked off his pants before settling in over her, and starting to push into her innermost stronghold.

The sensation seemed to overwhelm her at first, making her squirm beneath him, not knowing how to respond or behave, but she soon found her own answers. Maneuvering him until he was in the perfect position to reach her best spots, clawing at his lower back to urge him on, sinking her heels into the backs of his thighs to beg for more. The language of sex, it seemed, was universal.

She came before he did, hard and intense, lasting long enough that the powerful pulsing motions of her cramping walls milked him all the way to his own completion. Spilling into her in long spurts, so strong they were borderline painful, leaving him desperately clawing at the carpet to keep from bruising her while his body spasmed.

He collapsed on top of her eventually, but it felt like it took a very long time before the climax ended. And then he stayed there, buried deep inside her, since the deed was already done and he might as well try and give her the best chance.

At some point he must've fallen asleep, because it was dark when he woke up, and he was on his side with Halo in his arms and a blanket draped over them. He couldn't remember having moved, but he had a feeling she was easily strong enough to move him around however she wanted. Not that it mattered. He pulled her a little closer and fell right back to sleep.

The next time he woke, it was still dark but she was no longer beside him. She was sitting by one of the windows looking out over the front of her house and the lake.

"Halo?"

She answered by beckoning for him to come closer, so he reached for his pants and pulled them on, closing the buttons and the belt while he walked over to her. But once at the window, when he could see what she was looking at, he froze.

Because on the other side of the lake... was a portal. A rift, just like the one he'd been sent to investigate. It looked like little more than a strange beam of vertical rainbow colored light, just sitting midair about three feet from the ground, but it was definitely the same phenomenon.

"Come on!" he shouted excitedly, grabbing Halo's hand and pulling her along as he unbolted the door and started running towards it.

But when he reached it, she yanked free and stopped behind him.

"It's okay, it won't hurt you," he tried to explain, before he realized that she didn't look fearful.

Just sad.

"You can come with me. There are millions of people in my world, you'll never be alone," he said while pointing to them both and then counting out several times on his fingers, to help her understand.

She stepped forward, meeting his eyes while passing him, and then reaching out towards the rift. But when her hand passed through it, nothing happened. Even when she walked right through it, nothing happened.

"You're trapped here..." he realized, feeling his chest tighten at the thought that he might never see her again.

Perhaps not so much because of any stronger feelings he'd managed to develop for her in his brief visit, but just because he hated having to leave knowing she'd be all alone.

"I can't stay. I have people waiting for me at home."

She stepped away from the rift with tears in her eyes, and he couldn't blame her. As amazingly beautiful as this world was, it was clearly very hostile, and living in it by herself would never get any easier. Suddenly, Marcus found himself wishing that his seed would take, so she'd at least have someone to love.

He walked up to her and hugged her close, feeling her tremble as she fought the sorrow. Then he kissed her one more time before letting her go, and she gifted him a soft smile as he backed away.

Just as before, there was nothing to indicate the shift between worlds. It just happened. In less than a blink of an eye, the luminescent world was gone and he was back in his own, which abruptly felt too bright and too barren. So flat and tasteless against his senses.

There was no one there. No team of scientists from the Heroics organisation, so no one else had opened the rift for him from this end. A quick glance at his watch showed that to him, thirteen hours had passed, which should've been enough time for someone to miss him.

"HQ, can you hear me?" he called over the comms, and got an immediate response.

"Loud and clear, Moreno. Did you find the anomaly?"

"Yeah... Just one question. What time is it now?"

"Time? It's 11:43. Why do you ask? You hungry for lunch?"

He'd stepped into the rift at 11:29. Only minutes had passed in this world while he was in the other.

"No. I'm not hungry," he answered the technician, feeling guilty even thinking about food when Halo was probably still starving in there.

----------------------------------

"So, dad, did you have any romantic adventures for Valentine's Day?" Missy surprised him by asking after he'd gotten home later that day and they were preparing dinner together.

"Today is Valentine's Day?" he questioned, wondering when exactly he'd stopped celebrating his late wife on this day.

His daughter just nodded in that superior way she did whenever she got to outsmart him about anything.

"Oh. Well, then I guess I did," he cryptically replied, and her eyebrows predictably hit the roof.

She was bringing vegetables to the kitchen counter where he was chopping them up, and she stopped in the middle of the floor and gaped at him, while he just smiled and winked at her.

"You went on a date and you didn't tell me?!" she dramatically argued, but he just kept smiling.

"Not a date, no. But you might have a sibling in an alternate reality now."

"What alternate reality? When did you go to an alt-..."

Marcus just waited patiently for her to work out the details, and when she did, her expression was priceless.

"Wait... I have a... That means you... Oh, GROSS, dad!!"

"Of course, that's the part you get hung up on. Not the half-sister or brother you might have."

"Why would I get hung up on that?" she calmly pondered, and then her father was the one standing with his mouth hanging open in shock.

"You-... You wouldn't mind having a bigger family?"

"Duh. More people to love is never a bad thing, isn't that what you always say?" she countered, and he didn't have any response to that beyond just grinning happily at her.

Because for the first time since losing her mother, he suddenly realized he wouldn't mind a bigger family either.

"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."

THE END

Author's Note: I just wanted to write something for Valentine's Day, and this is what came to me when I looked through my image folders. Unfortunately, I'm a day late, but I forgive myself.

Hope you enjoyed it! And thank you for reading :)

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ Finale

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me!

A/N: So this is it folks! This is the end. There isn't anymore. I hate to say goodbye but maybe we will revisit in one shots!

Thank you for following me on this journey!

Also, there is a spotify playlist for this one. Click here!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Oh Captain, My Captain!

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

Four Years Later... 

The playoffs this year have been exhausting. Frank was used to it but now, he had one more reason to be home.  The world series would start next week for the Dodgers.  It was their second bid in four years and Frank felt like this was their time.  Johnny was pitching better than ever and the team that Dave and Todd had put together was golden.   

As he drove home in his beloved Camero, he thought back on how he ended up here.  

The trial for Mike Weiss was long and exhaustive. Mike faught to the bitter end, continuing to claim that he only kidnapped Mary to speak to her, get to know her, since Frank and Abby had forbade him from coming close to his family.  The law was on their side, as Diane provided testimoney of Mike’s obsession in destroying the Adlers from way back to when Frank and Abby first started their relationship.  It had been a 20 year obsession that had catipulted him delusions.  

Unfortunately, Mike never saw a day of his sentence.  Frank was disappointed in how Mike ended up taking his own life from an accidental overdose after finding out the guilty verdict. They had given him one week to set up his affairs. Frank didn’t want the man to die but Mike couldn’t live with the idea of going in sober and clean.  The “friend” that found him said he wanted one more party before he went inside.  Was it accidental?  No one will ever really know beside the man who had been Frank’s best friend for 15 years.  

Diane was a better story.  After staying for for treatment for a year, Diane was sober and in her right mind.  She had visited with Frank and Mary once, before moving to Maine with her boyfriend.  She told Frank that she would never contest custody and hoped to maintain an “auntie” sort of relationship with Mary.  Abby couldn’t bring herself to face her again.  She had gotten her answers and forgave her former friend.  But she set down the law: her future children would not have a relationship with their aunt. Frank respected her decision. 

Bobby Fuller was banned by the league after their investigation into him found his drug use and his collaboration in helping Mike.  At the insistence of Frank, the district attorney did not press charges against him. Frank decided losing his passion, his career was punishment enough.  they never spoke again.  

A year after the loss of the world Series, Johnny decided to propose to Katie, at Christmas, on Dodger Field.  Frank had been right that he would propose, all be it, a year later than he thought.  But Katie had a surprise for him after she said yes.  She was pregnant, with twins.  Sam and David Storm joined the family at the beginning of June the following year.  

Susie had made an honest man out of Marco in the summer after the first world series.  They bought a house in the same neighborhood as Frank and Abby.  Susie was honored after her discovery of a new star in the sky.  Marco still worked as security for the Adlers, especially after Abby decided to resign as medical director for the Dodgers.  She went to take over as  Chief of Staff at USC.  The hours changed so security for the children had to be updated as well.  

Scott and Steve married after dating for three years.  Frank stood as his best man and signed their marriage certificate.  Luckily, the Adler property had a small house in the back that Scott turned into a home for them.  Scott stayed on as the nanny, not wanting to separate from his godchildren.  Steve was so understanding and was happy to be honored as the kid’s second godfather.  

Frank smiled as he drove down the familiar street.  The leaves were starting to turn and the air in California finally started to have a chill in the mornings.  He was looking forward to an early morning coffee with his Cricket on the balcony before the kids woke up.  Mary was still working on her science project, a fully functioning telescope from scratch.  The now 14-year-old was in college level science, a brain box just like her mothers.  Susie loved having a prodigy to work with.  She still went to a normal school but twice a week, Susie would take her to her college classes as her guardian and professor.  

Turning into the driveway, Frank groaned at the toys all over the yard. “Dammit Mary,” he muttered.  She had just a few responsibilities at the house, and one was to make sure all of the toys were put away for the night.  He looked at his watch.  It was just past eight.  He grabbed his bag and headed into the house.  

“Hello, hello!” He called out.  

“Daddy!!” 

A streak of dark curls rushed at him.  He crouched down and caught three-year-old Lorelei in his arms.  

“Hi princess,”he said as he hugged and kissed his daughter.  

“Daddy, you were ever and ever,” she pouted.  

“I know princess, but I’ll be home for a few days.  Uncle Johnny and Auntie Katie are coming over tomorrow.”  

“Yay!!!” She hung on to his neck as he stood up to see his Mary walking over. “Hey Nugget.”  

“Hey dad!” Mary hugged him hard. “That was an awesome play yesterday.”  

“Thanks.  But you’re in trouble.” Mary looked at him confused. “The toys?”  

“Oh, cr-,” she stopped, “crazy,” she said, looking at her sister. “I’ll take care of it right now.”  She darted out the door, Dodger on her heels after getting a pat from Frank.  

“Hey Frankie.”  

Frank turned to see his girl, his Cricket walking over to him, holding their eight-week-old son, Anthony, in her arms.  “Hi Cricket.”  He put Rory down and took his son in his arms. “Hey little man.” He kissed his forehead and was rewarded with a sleepy yawn and a blink of his ocean blues.  “He’s bigger.”  

“Went for his checkup yesterday,” Abby said. “He’s at 12 pounds now, growing like a weed.”  

Anthony had been born four weeks early and was just under six pounds when he was born, but healthy.  He had an appetite like his dad, which Abby complained about at the 3 AM feedings.  

“I’ve missed you guys.” Frank pulled Abby close and kissed her softly.  

“We missed you.”  Abby took his hand and guided him to the counter. “I thought you would be earlier, and I made dinner.”  

“Sorry baby, the flight got delayed on the tarmac and I had no signal.” Frank sighed.  “Whatcha make?” 

“Lasagna.” Frank groaned as Abby's lasagna was second to none. Abby smiled. “I’ll cut you a piece.”  

“You’re the best Cricket.  I should marry you.”  

“Already did Frankie. Best decision ever.”  

“Without a doubt.” 

Later that night, as the house settled for the night, Abby laid Tony in his bassinet. She smoothed his blanket before kissing him goodnight.  Frank leaned over and kissed him as well.  “Sweet dreams, pal. Love you son.”  

Abby could never get over how sweet it was to watch Frank with all his kids. He helped with Mary’s homework, read stories to Rory and cuddled with Tony when Abby wanted to take a shower.  This man, this man that she met 20 years ago, was everything she ever dreamed of.  As they climbed into bed, Abby lay on Frank’s chest.  “You’re thinking really loud, Cricket.  What’s on your mind?” 

Abby chewed her lip for a moment before asking, “Are you happy Frankie?” 

“The happiest I’ve ever been.  Why do you ask?” 

“I dunno.  Lots of changes.” 

Frank sat up and pulled his wife onto his lap.  “Cricket, winning you back, having our family, it's like beating the throw and sliding into home.  It’s a high that I am so happy I get to live with you.”  

Abby melted at his sweet words. “I love you so much Frankie.”  

“And I love you, Cricket forever and ever.” He kissed her softly.  “Need some help getting to sleep?” He smirked.  

“Always.” Abby giggled as Frank flipped her onto her back, pulled the blanket over them and they sighed.  

THE END 

Taglist

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@before-we-get-started

@tinkerbelle67

@bunnyforhim

@peaceinourtime82

[merwynpersonalhub]

marco x his partners headcanons fhdh

Marco x Kevin

-Actually very clingy to each other- I like to think if they are around the hold hands without thinking or kevin has a hand on his back and marco has a hand on his waist or whatever whatever

-Mostly spends time just cuddling and rambling- They can spend GOD DAMN HOURS talking- well mostly marco but still!!

-Kevin is the more calm one out of the two which is..oddly surprising lmao- Hes always making sure marco doesnt wonder off or do something stupid (kevin looked away from marco for a second and he broke his arm trying to jump over a fence smh.)

-Kevin for the first few weeks dating marco is very meh about him- BUT OMFG when he realizes "ok i do actually like him and hes super sweet-" hes just has this moment where he hanging out with marco and apologizing for being somewhat a lil asshole and he actually for the first time says "I love you very much" AND MARCO JUST A BIG GIGGLING MESS TRYING NOT TO CRY DHDJ

Marco X Radford

-Funny enough marco is a big listener to radford and just loves listening to him- even if he gives short "mhms" or hums he does pay attention to him and since he does he easily remembers radford favorite stuff and can easily read him lile a book-

-I ACTUALLY HC THEM IN THEIR FREETIMES THEY ARE VIDEO GAME STREAMERS!! RADFORD IS USUALLY THE GUEST STAR WHILE MARCO IS THE ONE PLAYING THE GAMES!! marco never played any games so radford thought it be sweet to just let him have fun!! He fucks marco up so easily with his jokes and shit-

-BOTH AFFECTION MONSTERS- THEY LOVE GIVING EACHOTHER KISSES AND HUGS EVEN IN PUBLIC- They arent even trying to show off they just that gay-

-CLOSE TO ROBERT AND JOHN BC OF THIS SOMWWHAT. hes very sweet to robert and sorta spoils him when he can- meanwhile he respects john so much! He doesnt steal him or jacks things and sorta see him as a weird father figure since i like to think john is very close to his family so hes like..somewhat like a father to them so ofc marco going to respect him!!

Marco X Streber

-PARTNERS IN CRIMEEE!! THEYVARE CHAPTIC LIL TROUBLE MAKERS!! where you think streber got it from??/silly

-Hc streber as a guy who loves crossdressing streber and marco would shop together for dresses and makeup and stuff like that!!

-Streber is a big old gift giver and it makes marco feels bad but streber always says "its fine! You give me lots of hugs! its only fair!" He loves the gifts he gets from streber and feels honored!

-Knows strebers coworkers and they are all very supportive of marco!! They actually sorta offered marco to work with them if he had free time next halloween! he actually took up the offer and scared some kids near the end of the tour- he was a scarecrow and was very still so kids walking around would assume hes a prop!! God he got some kids good-

Marco X Rick

-rick is very affectionate even if he doesnt seem like it!! He alwaus wrapped his arms around marco and resting his head in his hair just chilling-

-THEY ACT LIKE HUSBAND AND WIFE SO EASILY ITS CRAZY RHDJC legit its so fucking sweet

-Marco always picks up his partners but cant pick up rick- SO RICK BEING A TINY CHEEKY BASTA4D will pick him up sometimes and hold him bridal style and marco always freezes as he hides his head in his chest just embarrassed

-MARCO IS THE ONE TO SPOIL RICK A FUCK TON!! he alwyas trying to make him things and always taking him out in the woods to collect rocks and hang out with him!! he always smiles slightly when marco brings him oit and they have a day togehtwr ♡♡♡♡

anyways thats it for marco x wagegang imma ramble about today jdjdj

taglist: @totally-not-a-tickle-blog @jonesy-squish

[breakingblorbos]

Pinned Post/Blog Info!

Hiya!! Welcome to my BrBa & BCS focused blog! 👋🏼😊 The primary purpose of this pinned post is to give some info about me, my blog, and what you can expect to find on it. Everything below the cut is not required reading to follow or interact; merely just additional info if you are interested, or if you want to make requests. The only thing I require you to read is the following disclaimer:

This is an 18+ blog ran by an adult. You will find NSFT art/fic, dark and potentially upsetting themes, as is common for the BrBa/BCS universe. And I make very thirsty comments & posts about my blorbos, so just keep that in mind. However!! I am not going to restrict anyone from following/interacting with my blog. Use your own discretion and awareness. That's your responsibility, not mine. Anything that needs a content warning will be tagged appropriately, of course.

🌌About Me!🪐

Basic info - You can call me either Orion or Riley! I'm 25, neurodivergent, trans masc & nonbinary, and bisexual. Pronouns are he/him and they/them. I do also live in New Mexico (born and raised babyy!), which makes the shows that much more special to me!! I'm very friendly and open, but also very shy, so I tend to not reach out to folks even when I want to talk to them (which, honestly, is most of y'all. Oops.) If you ever do feel compelled to chat with me, please don't hesitate! I'm super excited to talk about BrBa/BCS with literally anybody!

I'm a writer, but I struggle hard with getting anything actually published on here or AO3. I try to write but it's not nearly consistent enough to ever expect anything from me. I'm working towards getting better at this! My main hurdle to overcome is my perfectionism and my fear of rejection (RSD).

I have a lot of interests, being autistic, so the only important one to list here is obviously Breaking Bad & Better Call Saul. You can certainly ask about my other interests, and I'll be happy to tell you more! I like to keep my special interests all separate on their own dedicated blogs, so that was the main motivation behind creating this one. Which leads me to the next section:

☣️About This Blog!⚗️

Most of the content is gonna be reblogs from others: fanart, fics, writings, memes, shitposts, etc. I myself am not an artist and cannot contribute with art even though I wish I could, but I may sometimes write little drabbles, oneshots, and universe willing, fic chapters for my ships/blorbos (more info on that below ↓). If you want to see something in particular, you're more than welcome to submit a request! I think I have a lot more motivation to write when I get specifically asked to write something, perhaps?

My main blorbos: (red shows the character currently occupying my braincell the most rn)

🥊Tuco Salamanca

🐍Nacho Varga (and by extension, Vaas Montenegro. I simply love MM.)

💀Marco & Leonel Salamanca

❤️‍🩹Jesse Pinkman

🎭Saul Goodman/Jimmy McGill

Of course, I adore all the characters (except Walt ofc) and they're all very special to me!! But these seven men listed above have an absolute chokehold on my brain at any given time lmao, so they will be featured prominently in this blog.

My fave ships:

Default ship is character x reader

Vaacho (Vaas x Nacho)

Lacho (Nacho x Lalo)

Beef Sandwich (Nacho x Twins) I fucking love this ship name holy shit

Tucho (Tuco x Nacho)

McWexler (Kim x Jimmy)

Jesse x Jane

Jesse x Andrea

Jesse x happiness (this is a joke, but also not. Man deserves it.)

📨Requests!📝

My asks are always open for questions, requests, or really anything! I love sending/receiving asks and interacting with this fandom! If you're interested in requesting a writing from me, first read this list of what I will and won't write before you submit your request:

Yes, no problem!

Vast majority of ships

Smut/Explicit/PWP

Headcanons

AUs

Oneshots

Drabble

Reader Inserts

Gender Swaps

Fluff

Hurt/Comfort

Angst

Violence/Gore

Dubcon

Toxic Relationship

Most Kinks & Fetishes

Please ask first!

Fandom Crossovers (mostly just to ensure I know the fandom)

Consensual Noncon (depends on character)

No, I will not!

In/ce/st Ships (i.e. twincest, cousins)

Explicit content involving underage characters

Ageplay (calling a character daddy doesn't count lol)

Extreme Kinks, such as s/ca/t, v/or/e, n/ecr/o, etc.

Keep in mind that I reserve the right to deny your request for any reason, including no reason at all! 9 times out of 10 this won't be necessary, but if you're rude or demanding non-jokingly, I won't write for you! Just be chill and it'll be Saul Goodman! :)

Also I don't have a Masterlist to link here, because I've never posted anything ever! It's all just vibing in my Google Docs while I polish and tweak until the end of time! Fun! :D /s

So, yeah, I suppose that's the long and the short of it. I didn't expect for this to be so long, but I have a tendency to just keep adding details to things! Good for writing; not great for writing a blog intro. I'll edit as needed over time, though. Thanks for reading if you got this far! Seriously, props to you. Here's a cookie mwah 🤲🏼🍪

[foundtherightwords]

The Quiet Chaos - Chapter 5

Pairing: Billy Knight (Lethal White/Strike) x OFC

Summary: After a bad breakup throws her carefully-planned life into disarray, Esme has sworn off dating forever. However, when she forms an unexpected connection with a young man named Billy, who's dealing with his own struggles, Esme is forced to face the truth: sometimes you can't plan for love.  

Warnings: mental health issues, angst, slow-burn, developing relationship, dysfunctional family, some violence (non-graphic), some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter warnings: awkward sex, discussion of self-harm

Chapter word count: 4.4k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - Dawn and Emerald

It was late, and the tube was packed with weary people coming back from their evening shifts. Esme felt sorry for them, for how downtrodden they looked, and was almost embarrassed for how happy she was. The return journey seemed longer than the journey to the allotment, but it was probably because she was so eager to get off, and so was Billy.

She leaned on his shoulder, her hand in his, their fingers all tangled up. Now and again, she would raise her head, and he leaned down to meet her halfway. Their lips brushed briefly. She wanted to pull him to her and feel his mouth over hers again, but their carriage was nearly full, and she didn't feel brave enough for a public make-out session yet, so she had to satisfy herself with those fleeting touches. Even then, they still made her feel absurdly giddy, like a teenager having her first crush. Not that I know what that's like. When I was a teenager, I was too busy making sure Sibby, Tiff, and Sam ate and bathed and did their homework.

When they reached their station, Billy pulled her back and asked quietly, "Are we going to your place, or mine?"

A thrill went through Esme. Is this really happening? She remembered having to Google "how many dates before you have sex" while going out with Neil, and being so confused because the results were so wildly different. Never would she dream, in a million years, that she would be going home with a guy at the end of their first date. OK, first official date, but still.

As she pondered his question, however, that thrill faded somewhat in the face of practicalities. "Mine is probably better," she said. "Not that there's anything wrong with your flat," she quickly added. "It's just... Angua's not allowed there."

"That's OK. I've always wanted to see where you live." He took her hand again, and they all but ran to her flat.

The moment the door shut behind them, Billy drew her to him, picking up where they'd left off, but Esme couldn't seem to rediscover the excitement she'd felt first in the greenhouse and then on the tube. Her insecurities were rearing their heads, reminding her of a million ways in which she was inadequate, in which this might turn out as disappointing as their botched first date. She extricated her lips from Billy's, muttering, "I thought you wanted to see the flat."

"Later." He peeled her jacket off, then his own.

"I have to give Angua some water—"

But Angua would not be used as an excuse. The moment Esme let her off the leash, the little dog trotted to her water bowl, which was already full, lapped up some water, and settled into her bed with a contented sigh and a sideway glance at them, as if to say, "That's it for me tonight. You crazy kids get on with it." Esme laughed helplessly and let Billy pull her back into his arms.

This could work, she told herself. This will work.

At least, it never felt this way with her exes. Sex with Marco was awkward and fumbling, both of them being too young and inexperienced to really know how to work with each other. Her casual dates were just that, casual. Neil was... adequate, but certainly he's never been such a blazing heat against her, nor has he ever slammed her into a wall so hard she could feel her spine tingling, while in search of the bedroom door.

"Um, Billy, that's the broom cupboard."

He buried his face in her neck, laughing. "Right. Sorry."

She steered him toward the bedroom. He reached for the light switch by the door, but she put out a hand to stop him. "Do you mind if we keep the lights off?" she said. That was how she had always done it, letting the dark hide her shyness and her imperfections, her too-small breasts, her flabby stomach, the weird stretch marks from puberty that never went away. It had annoyed Neil, who preferred to see what he was doing, to no end, but it'd annoyed him even more when she seized up under a bright light, so he'd let it slide.

There was still some light coming in through the window from the street, enough for her to see Billy frown briefly, but he shrugged, amenable as always. "Sure."

They found their way to the bed, and the rest of their clothes, whatever that hadn't been discarded already all over her living room and kitchen floors, came off. Esme ducked under the cover. A second later, Billy joined her, his hot body pressing down on her, his mouth dropping scorching little kisses down her neck, her shoulder, her breast, his callused fingertips running down her sides, rough yet gentle at the same time, sending trembles all over her. His frenzy, so different from his usual shy self, caught her off-guard.

"Have you been with—have you been with lots of girls before?" Esme asked.

"Does it matter?" he said, his voice muffled as he trailed his lips over her skin.

"No. I'm just wondering."

"There was one or two... but not like this. Not like you." His lips were on her again, and she realized she didn't mind it, didn't mind letting him sweep her away in a whirlwind of desire, of excitement, of things unknown but intoxicating. Her hips started to move under him.

But then Billy paused. She could feel his arms quivering as he held his body poised over her.

"Hold on... I think—I think we should slow down," he panted in her ear.

"I thought you said we would be at it all night," she whispered back with a giggle, rolling her hips more deliberately, rhythmically, pressing herself into his hand.

"More reason for—slowing down then—"

"But I don't want to slow down." She reached out, searching for him, guiding him to her.

Suddenly he wrenched away from her with a moan, and she felt something hot and sticky splash across her belly and thighs.

Billy dropped his head.

"Shit," he mumbled into her shoulder. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

For what felt like an eternity, Esme could only lie there, motionless, while Billy said sorry again and again, his hands digging into her arms, his breath hot on her skin. Then she found herself thinking, as if her mind was somewhere outside of her body, And I just washed the sheets too.

The thought reminded her of practical matters. She shifted her hips, but Billy was pinning her in place. "I need to get up," she said.

He bolted up. "Sorry, yeah, sure..."

She gingerly lifted the duvet, sat up, and got out of bed.

"D'you need me to get you a towel or—"

"No," she replied, more sharply than she intended. "Just... no. It's fine."

She went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The hot water did little good for her jumbled thoughts. Is it possible to die from embarrassment? Because she wanted to curl up inside herself and die, right now. Was it her fault? Had she pushed him too strongly? He had asked her to slow down, and she hadn't listened. It was their first date all over again. No, it was even worse, because she'd been so nervous about their first date that the disappointing end had been almost a relief, and at least she could blame Billy's hypomania for that. But this? After their first kiss, and all that passion, all the expectation... this was crushing.

Then she realized she's been focusing too much on herself. If this was such a blow to her, then how mortified Billy must be feeling. Oh God, what if he's left? Wrapping a towel around herself, she ran into the bedroom. No, he was still there, sitting at the end of the bed with his head in his hands. The despondent hunch of his shoulders sent a twinge through her heart.

"Saved you some hot water," she said, much more softly than before, and dug out a clean towel from her cupboard.

He looked at her, then at the towel in confusion. It took him a moment to realize she wasn't mad at him. He took the towel, mouthed "Thank you", and darted into the bathroom.

While waiting for him, Esme put on her pajamas and turned on the nightlight. Billy reemerged a few minutes later, the towel wrapped around his waist.

"Listen, Esme, I'm really sorry about—" he began.

Esme was about to interrupt and tell him there was nothing to apologize for, when she caught a glimpse of his chest. There was a large mass of scars right under his collarbone, above his sternum. This was the first time he appeared without a top in front of her, so she'd never seen them before. When they were in bed together, she had been too focused on his mouth and his hands and everything else to notice the bumps under her fingers. But now they were there, unmistakable, and there appeared to be a particular shape to them...

She turned on the big light so she could examine the scars more clearly. Billy saw her eyes widen and attempted to cover himself with his hand, unwittingly repeating the nose-to-chest tic that she now recognized always surfaced whenever he was stressed or upset. But the gesture wasn't enough to cover the scars. She had seen. The scars were in the shape of a horse. No, not just a horse. The Horse. The Uffington White Horse.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Billy reluctantly dropped his hand. "... I did it."

She stared at him in horror. "What?!"

"A few years ago, I had a... psychotic break. It was bad. I cut myself. I don't remember why. I don't even remember doing it. I just... had to."

Tears welled up in Esme's eyes, blurring the shape of the Horse. Now she knew why he had fled at the sight of her necklace. What happened to him on that hill that haunted him so? She couldn't envision what horrors he'd been through, what pain he'd endured. She was only aware of the aching gulf between them, filled with those unknown things. How could she ever hope to cross that gulf and reach him?

"Please don't cry." He lifted his hand as if to wipe away her tears, but it seemed he couldn't bring himself to cross the gulf either. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Esme shook her head. "You're not making me cry," she said. "I'm crying for you. There's a difference."

"How?"

"When someone made you cry, that's because they're hurting you. When you cry for someone, that's because you love them." She didn't know where those words came from. They sounded like something in one of her mum's sappy books.

Billy gazed at her for a long moment. "Does that mean you love me?" eventually he asked.

She paused, not knowing how to answer. Instead, she reached out to touch the scars, lightly brushing her fingertips over them. And then, because touching was not enough, she leaned down and kissed them.

Billy sucked in a breath. "Esme, I can't—" But she kept the kiss tender, not sensuous, and a second later, she straightened up. He was looking at her, his lips quivering with things unsaid, his eyes sparkling with tears, looking so vulnerable that she took him in her arms, rocking his head on her shoulder. "It's all right," she murmured soothingly. "We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. Just stay with me. If you want to," she remembered to add.

He did want to stay. Soon they were nestled next to each other in bed, her arms around him, her head on his shoulder. Esme again rethought her idea of a first date. This is nice too, she decided, as she fell asleep to the sound of his soft snores, feeling his breath on her hair.

***

It must be quite early—the window was still dark, though there was a grayish quality to the darkness that told her morning was close—but something had woken her up. Then Esme realized it was Billy, lying on his back next to her, groaning and thrashing in the throes of a nightmare. She knew better than to try and wake him up in this state, so she rolled him to his side instead. As she did so, Billy's eyes popped open, huge and haunted, looking at her without seeing her. "Dawn?" he said.

She didn't know whether he was asking for someone named Dawn or whether he thought she was Dawn or whether he was asking if it was dawn, but now was not the time to ask. "Shh, it's OK," she whispered. "You're having a nightmare." His eyes closed then, and he slipped quietly back to sleep.

However, sleep eluded Esme, whose head was filled with questions about the mysterious Dawn. Of course, she had no illusion that Billy had never been with anyone before—he had told her as much. And it did not matter anyway. But if this Dawn meant so much to him that he called out for her in his sleep, she'd want to know.

The next morning, over breakfast, she asked, keeping her voice nonchalant, "Who's Dawn?"

Billy looked up from his toast. "Where'd you hear that name?"

"You had a nightmare and called me Dawn."

"Did I?" His fingers tapped the jar of strawberry preserve, a ghost of his tic. "God, I haven't thought of her in years."

"Who is she?" Esme repeated, a touch impatiently now.

"She's my—um, my brother's wife. Well, ex-wife."

"Your brother?"

"Jimmy."

Presumably, this was the same Jimmy that frightened young Billy with tales of the dog-meat curry. Another puzzle piece fell into place.

"I used to stay with them sometimes, when my dad—when I first came to London," Billy continued. "She's a lot older than Jimmy, I think, and Jimmy's a lot older than me, so she's more like an aunt. But she was kind to me. I used to have these nightmares about—" Again, there was a pause, and a correction—"nightmares like you wouldn't believe, and she would calm me down. But Jimmy got angry with me for telling her about the Horse. So I left to share a flat with some mates, and then Dawn and Jimmy split up. I never saw her again." There was a wistful note in his voice. "She's the closest thing to a mum I ever had."

"Where's Jimmy now?" Esme asked.

"Prison," Billy replied, and said no more.

How silly of her, to feel jealous of Dawn! There was another stab of pain in Esme's heart, not just for Billy, but also because with each of his reveals, the gulf between the two of them seemed to be gaping a little wider. How could she be there for him, when he spoke of things she could never imagine, no matter how many books and articles and studies she read? How could she support him when she didn't know what he was going through? She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, an inadequate gesture compared to his pain. He smiled at her, but even that smile could not drive away the fear that one day, all her tears and kisses and touches would not be enough.

But Esme tried to ignore that fear and continued seeing Billy. She no longer fretted about what to do for their dates. They still met every Saturday to walk the dogs at the rescue center. When they didn't have the late shifts, he would come to her flat for dinner and stay the night. During her lunch breaks, Esme would bike down to Asda or the woodworking studio so they could have lunch together on the river bank. She discovered her love for flea markets again while scouring them for things to brighten up Billy's flat, and Billy would sometimes accompany her as well—much like herself, he didn't mind crowds as long as he didn't have to interact with them. But most of the time they just stayed home, cooking and eating and reading and going to bed together.

They had yet to try having sex again, though Esme had gone to her doctor to refill her birth control prescription and to make sure everything was good to go. Sometimes, when Billy spent the night, she would wake with his hand on her breast and the hard ridge of his arousal behind her, but then he would also wake, go crimson, and turn away or even jump out of bed. If she hinted that they might have another go at it, he would try to deflect, and it turned into the most awkward back-and-forth of "We don't have to if you don't want to" and "If you don't mind that I don't want to". In the end, Esme decided to just drop it. It made Billy uncomfortable, and she, in turn, would feel bad about making him uncomfortable, so why put more pressure on both of them? Of course, if the timing was right... but she never did have good timing. So she just learned to take things as they come and not to think too much of the future.

She also learned that it was OK to ask a lot of questions, and to talk, and to listen. Billy had good days and bad days, and she learned not to take his bad days personally. If anything, the bad days helped her to treasure the good days even more, made every moment they spent together even more precious, and gave special meanings to the simplest of things, like falling asleep next to him and waking up, knowing he was still there.

***

That Sunday, the flea market in Camden was quieter than usual. The colder weather might have something to do with it, but Esme didn't mind as she linked arms with Billy and strolled through the stalls, stopping at whatever caught their eyes. Seeing a table full of used books, they both navigated toward it without a word, and grinned at each other when they noticed their synchronized steps.

A crate of brightly-covered children's books stood in front of the table. To Esme's horror, she recognized them. A box containing similar books was currently gathering dust in her storage shed. With a glance at Billy, who was digging through the stacks next to her, she tried to nudge the crate out of the way, but her movement only drew Billy's attention. He saw the author's name. "Ivy Pendergast... Hey, she has the same last name as yours! This isn't your mum, is it?"

Of course, she had told him that her mum was a writer and illustrator of children's books, as well as other basic facts—her dad was a glass artist, she grew up in Kent, and she had three younger siblings, Sybil, Tiffany, and Sam. Billy had raised an eyebrow at that and said, "They really do like Discworld, don't they?" (they had been reading the books together—well, rereading for Esme—and Billy was really getting into the City Watch, because, as he said, he liked stories about crime-solving), and Esme had nodded in mock weariness. But there were still things she hadn't told him, and now she silently cursed her dad for not having a more common last name, and her mum for taking that last name when they married, despite all her feminist ideals. I could lie. But he's bound to find out sooner or later. Better get this over with.

"That is my mum, actually," she mumbled.

Billy flipped through the content of the crate with interest. "Emerald Saves a Grasshopper," he read out loud. "Emerald Saves a Lizard. Emerald Saves a Fox."

Esme closed her eyes, praying that he wouldn't put two and two together. After all, not a lot of people know Esme is short for Esmeralda, and even fewer know Esmeralda means Emerald in Spanish.

But apparently Billy was one of those people. "Emerald?" he said. "Esmeralda? It's you, isn't it?"

Esme nodded, smiling to hide her pained expression. "She started writing them when I was about three. They were all quite simple at first, but then she ran out of animals, and now it's Emerald Saves a Lesser-Spotted Blue Tit and Emerald Saves a Mantis Shrimp and God knows what else. It'll be Emerald Saves an Amoeba next, probably."

He grinned. "So she just saves animals?"

"It's for kids age 5 and under, Billy, they don't need a plot. She saves other things too, but they're not as popular as the animal ones... What are you doing?"

He was buying them. He was actually buying the books. God help me.

"You don't have to buy them, you know," she quickly said. "I probably still have a few boxes of them in the shed if you want. Signed, too."

"You should keep those. They'll be worth something in the future, right?"

"I doubt it. She's signed so many of them that the unsigned ones might be worth more."

Billy grinned again. After he'd paid for the books, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me that your mum's books were based on you?"

Esme just shrugged. The truth was that, by the time she started school, they were no longer based on her. What she didn't tell Billy was that before growing up in Kent, she had grown up in a lot of other places as well, with the five of them—Sam hadn't been born at that point—crammed into one tiny camper van. It was the best day of her life when her dad decided to become a glass artist and realized you couldn't set up a kiln in a camper van. Nor did she tell him that her parents were always too busy with their creative endeavors to actually parent, and it fell to her, as the eldest, to give her younger siblings some sort of routine and structure in their day-to-day life. While Emerald was saving all sorts of cute animals and having adventures, Esme had to save her siblings from getting into scraps and falling behind in their classes. She grew to hate those books.

She didn't tell Billy any of it because she realized, compared to his nightmarish childhood, hers was practically idyllic. She knew how terrible it would sound if she complained to him that she'd had to take care of her siblings growing up, when he'd grown up motherless, beaten by his father, and abandoned by his brother. And so she kept silent.

At the same time, she would love for her family to meet Billy. They all disapproved of Neil, but she knew they would adore Billy. And he would adore them, provided that they didn't stress him out too much. She only hoped her relationship with Billy had reached a point when it was appropriate to introduce him to her family (why isn't there a guide to such things?)

"What are you doing for Christmas?" she asked one night while they were in bed, Feet of Clay propped up on her knees. Christmas was still a few weeks away, but knowing Billy (and herself), she thought she'd give themselves time to mentally prepare.

"Nothing, probably. Last year Jacob invited me to his house, but this year he's going to visit his daughter in Australia. You?"

"I have to work on Christmas Day."

"Bummer."

"I don't mind. Christmas is always a busy time. People don't pay as much attention to their pets, and they can get into all sorts of things. Someone has to hold the fort."

"I'll come by and keep you company."

"Ugh, stop being so stinking sweet, will you?" She leaned down and gave him a peck on the lips. Then, in a carefully casual manner, she said, "I'm going down to Kent to see my parents on Boxing Day though. Would you like to come with me?"

Billy sat up to face her. "You really mean it?"

"Yeah."

"Do they... what did you—I mean, how much did you tell them about me?"

"Not much, just that I'm seeing someone." She looked into his eyes. "Do you want me to tell them about your condition?"

He reached for her hand, clasping it tightly as if to stop his nervous tic, to anchor himself. "Would they... object, if they know?" he asked in a small voice.

"No," she said firmly. "And even if they did, it wouldn't matter to me." She lifted his hand and kissed his calluses. Billy's eyes softened. He tugged her forward until she landed on his lips.

"How did I get so lucky?" he whispered against her mouth.

But Esme had other things on her mind. "I have to warn you though, my parents are kind of... unconventional." She almost laughed at the understatement.

"I've gathered as much."

"No, honestly. For one thing, they don't celebrate Christmas."

"Are they Jewish or—"

"No, they just think it's too commercialized. When I was growing up, they would just give us presents whenever they felt like it. Only when my sisters and I moved away that they accepted that Christmas was one of the few times we could all get together, so they reluctantly agree to host it, but they still won't do any of the traditional things though. It's daft."

"I think it's cute."

"It may have been cute when we were kids, but not when we started going to school," Esme said with a humorless laugh. "Imagine having to explain to your classmates that you had no Christmas presents because your parents didn't feel like it."

"At least you had presents," Billy said quietly, and shame burned Esme's face. She was doing the very thing she had vowed not to do—complain about her parents in front of Billy. She kissed him again to distract from the offense.

"I'm just telling you so you won't have to worry about bringing presents or anything."

"OK, I won't." He kissed her back. "You can tell them about me. I don't mind."

Chapter 6

A/N: The detail about Billy carving the Horse into his chest was taken from the show. It didn't happen in the book, as far as I remember.

Taglist: @quinnypixie, @accidentalslag, @etherealglimmer