#only for will to confirm that it would literally be impossible for him to move on

[chirpsythismorning]

🎨 🖼️ 🌈 🩹 🧍🏽💡 🔮⚡️☄️

Never My Love by The Association

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[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep (6) | Joe Burrow

Smut/18+, Fluff

Summary: week one of the regular season is fast approaching, and being 25 weeks pregnant, so is your baby bump. With it being impossible to hide, you and Joe have no choice but to come clean.

Your bump quite literally popped over night. There was no denying it anymore. No matter what you wore, you could easily tell your were pregnant. Which lead you here: in a conference room with Joe, Coach Taylor, and a few representatives of the team. Joe sat next to you with his hand in yours underneath the table. As soon as the two of you walked into the room, they knew what this meeting was called for.

Coach Taylor had known for a while that you were pregnant, we was waiting for you to come to him and actually tell him yourself, and he had his suspicions that Joe might be the baby’s father, this only confirmed that. He couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach.

“So she’s pregnant?” Dan Pitcher questions, and you nod. “And you’re the father?” He asks Joe, who also nods. “I’m not going to lie, I saw this coming” Dan says, sitting back in his seat. Zac stays silent as all eyes fall on him. He lets out a sigh. “Is this why you’ve been distracted out there?” Zac question, and Joe furrows his brows. “I haven’t been distracted” Joe argues.

“You can say that, but I see it and the entire team sees it. Joe, you’re supposed to be leading this team, not worrying about what’s happening in your personal life. I can’t say I’m happy about this” Zac goes on. You can almost feel the heat radiating off of Joe. Your heart sinks to your stomach and you look at the floor. You never meant to be a distraction for Joe or the team. “What are you saying Zac?” Joe spits. “I’m saying that this is a big distraction for you. Your focus is off-“

“She is not a distraction. My focus has been on point. My calf is still a little sore but I did that. Not her. So don’t talk about my girlfriend or my kid like that again” Joe’s voice booms throughout the room. He looks over at you, noticing your eyes on the floor, and then looks back at Zac.

“I still haven’t signed that contract I was offered. You could lose me as quick as you got me, so think long and hard about treating her differently. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a doctors appointment we need to go to. This meetings over” Joe say as he gets up. He holds out a hand to help you get up.

“Burrow,” Zac calls out, catching the attention of both of you. “Congratulations,”

•••

After your doctors appointment, you and Joe headed home. You were still going through the process of moving in so you decided to unpack a little bit. With Joe’s help of course. Being high risk, you could lift a lot, not that Joe would let you anyway. The two of you did that for a while, before you found yourselves seated on the floor of a large empty room, that would eventually be the baby’s room.

Your back was against Joe’s chest. His arms around you, gently rubbing up and down on your swollen belly. It was moments like this that you lived for.

“I’m thinking we put the crib over there. That way we can put the camera right there and we’ll be able to see her perfectly” Joe comments, his blue eyes glimmering in the soft cast of sunlight in the room.

“Ooh yeah, and we can put her changing table on this wall, and her dresser on this wall” you agree, craning your neck to look up at him. He dips his head to plant a soft kiss on your lips. After a moment you find yourselves lost in each other. The kiss is passionate, but not rough. Filled with the love you two have for each other.

You eventually move so you’re straddling his hips. Joe’s hands find their home on your waist. The two of you didn’t have a care in the world in this moment. It was just the two of you. Joe’s hands moved under your oversized tee shirt, which was his but he didn’t mind. “Can I take this off?” He mumbles between kisses. You nod your head, pulling back to let him remove the shirt. Your bare chest on full display for him, and he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

His head dips down, gently taking one of the sensitive peaks into his mouth. He knows they’ve been bothering you, so he’s gentle. Your fingers thread through his soft locks, being able to fully enjoy his grown-out hair. You let out a breathy whine. “That feels so good,” you breathe out. He smirks against your chest. Fully enjoying the affects that pregnancy has on you.

“Yeah?” He asks, switching to the other side. You little whines only fuel his fire, as your hips begin to grind over the bulge forming in his shorts. He groans against your chest, the feeling shooting straight to your core. His hands roaming over your ass, as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and panties, tugging them down to mid thigh with ease. His fingers finding the slickness that formed between your thighs.

“Joey, please” you breathe, feeling his fingers running through your slick folds. His middle finger circles your sensitive clit and you let out a gasp. He pulls back from your lips to watch your face. Scrunched up in pleasure, and he’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Because you are.

“You like that baby?” He teases while running his fingers through your folds. He’s an expert at teasing, and in this moment, you hated it. “Joey, please!” You let out a frustrated plea, grinding your hips against his hand. “Patience, beautiful. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here” he softly says. “You’ll get what you want, I promise. But I’m taking my time with you”

Without warning, he slips his middle finger into your dripping hole. You gasp, gripping his biceps and he smirks. “Is this what you wanted, gorgeous?” He teases, while slipping his ring finger in. He curls his fingers, hitting that spongey spot deep inside of you, making your eyes roll back. He lets out a soft chuckle. “Right there?” He teases, and you moan in response.

He grips your jaw with his other hand, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes close in bliss, but he’s not having it. “Look at me or I’ll stop”

You open your eyes. His ocean blue eyes turned to darker shade of blue. The room is filled with the sounds of panting, broken moans, and the squelching from between your legs. Your chest heaves as you feel the knot tightening in your belly. Joe knows your close, the way your walls are squeezing his fingers. But he’s nowhere near done with you.

“Joey, I’m gonna-“

“Hold it.” His pace doesn’t let up, his arm muscles flexing beneath your hands with each thrust of his fingers. “I c—cant-“

“You can and you will” he taunts, pulling you in to kiss him. The knot in your belly tightens, your attempt to hold of your impending release is becoming harder and harder. Your orgasm is building in a way you’ve never felt before. The squelching only seemed to grow louder, along with your moans. “Joe, I’m gonna cum. I cant hold it anymore” you warn, your chest heaving. “Cum for me baby, cum all over me”

The loud high pitched moan you let out is damn near pornographic. Your body trembling with the force of your orgasm. Your juices release all over your thighs and all over Joe. He sports a cocky smirk. Your hands grip his shoulders as your entire body continues to shake. This orgasm nothing like any of the others. Joe hands wrap around your body, pulling you close.

“Did I just-“

“Yep” Joe says, the smirk never leaving his face. “That was so fucking hot” he groans. You lay your head against his shoulder, attempting to catch your breath. “And I’m so fucking hard” he comments. “I think I can take care of that.” It was your turn to smirk, as you kiss up and down his neck. It was gonna be a long night.

•••

This was a lot shorter than I anticipated it being. The next part will be a little longer, I promise ❤️

Tag list: @joeyfranchise

[hanmaitani]

Sneaking Around

PAIRING - Roronoa Zoro x Reader WC - 0.8K GENRE - smut CW - secret relationship, unprotected sex, implied size kink (if you squint) SYNOPSIS - being on the straw hat crew and secretly dating another member leads to a lot of close calls and a lot of sneaking around...

happy birthday zoro baby <33

Zoro can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Even if he could, he doesn’t really want to. Which would be fine… if you’d already told the crew that the two of you had been sneaking around behind closed doors.

Well… not really closed doors. More like slightly ajar doors or stuffed into closets or in quietly dark and deserted alleyways.

Quite literally any time that the two of you got alone time, Zoro had you like how you are now…

Your back flush against the wall, his body slotted between your thighs, pressed flush against yours. He’s got both your legs tossed over his arms, pinning them open, your knees dangerously close to tapping your shoulders. One of his arms is wrapped around your hips, keeping them angled towards him while the other has snaked its way up to cup the back of your head, keeping it from hitting the wall.

Zoro’s hips move impossibly fast, deliciously so. He attempts to keep quiet but the fast movements only cause the loud wet noises that accompany them to be even more prominent. The lewd sound of his cock stretching out your cunt.

It’s delicious and dizzying, the way he chases both of your highs as your hands try to grip onto his shoulders.

There’s no real reason for you to grip his shoulders, both of you know this. It’s just a show of trying to hold yourself up, but he’s doing all the work for you. It’s just so you can touch him, ground yourself as he fucks you into the heavens.

Both of you are all too aware that your alone time could be over at any minute. That in a second’s notice  you could be forced to scramble to either look presentable or for one of you to hide.

Today it would be you hiding if you couldn’t be presentable fast enough, you were in his training area. And he wanted you to finish before that had to happen, both of you.

“Z-Zo…” You whine into his ear, his forehead is pressed against your shoulder as he pants desperately across his chest. He’d give anything to hear that sound on repeat.

“Sh, sh, princess, I know.” He mumbles against your skin, lips pressing to yours to keep you quiet as his hips drills into you harder. He’s swallowing your shallow cries, the ones you’re trying and failing to swallow on your own, the ones that could get you caught if you’re not careful. “God fuck, feel so good.” He kisses the words into your mouth as his hand spreads over your scalp, fingers brushing softly against your skin, trying to soothe you as you cling to him.

He could feel you clamping down on his cock, your body squeezing his as you tipped over the edge. His hips ground against you, as you came, his lips kissing yours more desperately as he fucks you through your high, focusing on his own now. His grip on your body tightens as his thrusts get more erratic, chasing down his finish, needing it to be in you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He mutters against your lips as his hips stutter into you. Both of your breathing shaky as he releases your tangle of limbs. Your legs are unsteady under your own weight as he eases you down. Both of your lips are still moving against each other, trying to keep the intimacy until you hear a few distant bangs heading your way.

You pull back quickly, gasping as you reach for your pants, shakily trying to pull them on as Zoro fixes his own. Zoro had only just launched himself halfway across the room when the door slams open.

“ZORO DINNER!” Luffy’s hand is still on the door when his eyes land on you. “Oh, hey! Were you training with Zoro too?” Your voice gets caught in your throat and you settle on just nodding your head, confirming his incorrect suspicions. “No fair! You didn’t invite me!!” Luffy pouted slightly before remembering why he came in here. “C’mon! Dinner!” He bolts out of the room as fast as he’d entered and you can’t help but collapse in a heap on the floor, sighing out the stress you’d just gone through.

Zoro chuckles as he walks over and helps you off the ground. “Are you okay?”

“He almost caught us.” You mumble, shaking your head in worry. “Zoro what-” your breath hitches as his lips brush your neck again. “Wh-what are you…”

“C’mon, one more quick one before dinner,” he asks softly in your ear as his hands already move back towards your hips.

You whine in worry, but you can’t help melting into his arms, unable to resist him.

Zoro could never seem to keep his hands off of you… but you were truly no better.

TAGLIST -

@tsukiran @qichun @s0uldarling @stunies @little-miss-naill

@hayatoseyepatch @appalost

[keigosdear]

minors dni. 18+. fem!reader, no physical descriptions. this is soft and sweet and very a bit self indulgent. it’s literally all aftercare and emotions.

divider by @/cafekitsune

aftercare with atsumu is always so top tier. he’s a huge teddy bear, first of all, so the post sex cuddles are guaranteed to be so sweet. you’re usually exhausted after you finish with him- he’s come to realize just how greedy he gets once he has you underneath him, and while seeing your droopy eyes and blissed out expression fills him with pride, the way you immediately curl into your pillow and reject his request to get you cleaned up in favour of sleep, allows the guilt to creep in and take hold of his semi-clear mind as well.

so he’ll treat you like absolute royalty. anything you want? you’ll get. usually it’s cuddles, sometimes it’s a bath with him, he really doesn’t mind one bit.

all of that being said, when tonight’s activities are over and done with and you immediately cling to him and bury your face in his chest, he gets right to work.

well- tries to.

smoothing a finger over your warm, damp cheek to help ground you a bit, accompanied by a sturdy arm around your waist, he allows himself fifteen more seconds to admire your form.

“baby,” he makes sure to speak softly, knowing you’re probably still a little out of it. “will ya let me get up?”

the whine of protest that leaves your lips is barely audible, but he hears it.

and as always, he’s giddy over the knowledge that he’s the only one who will ever be tuned into you enough to hear it.

“need to clean ya up, sweet girl.”

to no one’s surprise, especially not his, you bury your face impossibly closer to his chest and utter out a quiet but very stubborn “no.”

he sighs and gently drags his nails across your back in mindless patterns. you’re clingy tonight- more than usual. he thinks back to what brought you both to this moment, trying to figure out if he pushed you a bit further than he normally would.

he doesn’t recall anything out of the ordinary… that’d be impossible, actually. he was real sweet on you the whole time. he couldn’t help it, he had come home to you wearing his clothes. that’s a guaranteed way to get him feeling all soft and sentimental and fuzzy and concupiscent-

now that he thinks about it… atsumu wouldn’t put it past you to get shy about asking for what you really wanted and plan something to get him to initiate it. but he doesn’t dwell on it. now he has a hypothesis to test.

he gently pries your face away from his skin and tilts your chin up. “baby, can ya look at me for a second?”

you flit your eyes up to his and he smiles. they’re still a bit glossed over. “there she is… hi pretty girl.”

the way you immediately try to hide your bright smile warms his heart so much that he risks spontaneously combusting. “don’t hide, baby, let me see ya.”

you whine as he pulls your hands away and try to hold eye contact with him. “such pretty eyes,” he flirts.

“are ya feeling a bit clingy after all that?”

you nod a little and tighten your hold around him as if to emphasize your point. “mhm,”

he sighs and decides that indulging you a bit more is exactly what he wants to be doing right now, anyway. “just in a bit of a mood, hm?”

you grunt in confirmation.

“did ya get what ya needed?” atsumu strokes your waist, watching your face for any changes that imply he hasn’t satisfied you in any way.

you nod again, eyes a bit less muddled now that he’s talking with you. he moves his hand down to rub the thigh draped over his hip. “tell me next time, ‘kay? ya don’t need to be afraid to tell me you want it a certain way.”

your lip forms a pout and he kisses it immediately. “‘m sorry, ‘tsum.”

he shuffles down a bit so that he’s face to face with you and nuzzles his nose against yours. “don’t be sorry, gorgeous, ya have nothin’ to apologize for.”

you giggle as he moves on to pressing soft kisses across your face and neck. “I’m here because I love you and want to fulfil your every desire, got it? let me take care of ya sometimes.”

you bat at his shoulder and through your laughter you insist, “you do take care of me! you do, ‘tsum!”

he laughs with you. “yeah, but let me do it more.”

your expression falters a bit and he knows he’s made it to the root of the problem. “but it would be selfish of me to ask for more from you. won’t you… get tired of me?”

his own features soften at your words and the insecurity in your voice. “sweetheart, you could ask me for the whole world and I’d never think of ya as selfish, got it? in fact I want ya to be selfish with me.”

you blink. “really?”

he nods and squeezes your hip. “really. and I could never ever get tired of ya. you’re my baby. okay?”

you caress his jaw with your knuckles and sniffle a bit, holding back tears. “okay. i love you,”

he kisses you slowly, gently, lovingly. “I love ya too. now, do you want to keep cuddling or can I clean ya up?”

you bite your lip a bit and grind your hips into his, looking up at him through your lashes. “actually… can we go for another round?”

he feels himself harden again and he grins, softly pushing you onto your back. he’s immediately switched on again and staring down at you with a familiar expression that makes your tummy twist in anticipation.

“‘course, angel,” atsumu leans down and whispers in your ear, his tone much darker than it was moments ago. “but only if you can tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

…I may expand on that last part in the future.

@nyctophilicroses ok. OK. I know I said geto was next, but something came over me and next thing I knew this one was finished 🥹

[leclerc-hs]

capsize - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader summary: in which charles is an idiot and you decide to make him suffer for a little bit warnings: smut, angst!, exhibitionism (kinda?), breeding kink!, language, 18+!, bad french!!! (please correct me and i'll edit), barely proofread (sorry if there’s mistakes my eyeballs hurt) word count: 5.9k (LENGTHYYYYY) author's note: had to give us some angst obvi....but also smut bc single dad charles is so hot. let me know what you think! I can't believe it ended up being this long but it felt like it was impossible to end. xoxo. please blow this up bc the effort I put into writing this took 100% of my brain power away lmao. also I got an anon request to write about nanny getting a internship with a fashion company which is included in this! french edits made by the lovely @dannyramirezwife (idk what I would do without you)

part 1 part 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 52,789 others yourusername welcome to miami 🐚🧡 view all 1,321 comments yourbsf but how do you kill it every time??? landonorris mmmm papaya looks good on you🍊 charles_leclerc how do I dislike a comment? liked by yourusername and 7,829 others yourusername 😂 user guys omg. user charles is NOT having it charles_leclerc beautiful. but please stick to red ❤️ user CRYING user lando is def on his shit list user lando wants her so bad lmaoooo

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 78,992 others yourusername luigi follows only the ferraris 🏎️🏁 view all 4,391 comments scuderiaferrari as you should! ❤️ user OMG SHES IN MIAMI!!!! user does this mean his daughter is there!!!! user i would hope. unless she's not doing her job lol user we need baby leclerc content!!! charles_leclerc damn right ❤️ yourbsf miami looks gooood on u. wanna move? yourusername 😏 charles_leclerc absolutely not user charles gtfooooo user what does charles just stalk her comments?

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 1,582,817 others charles_leclerc special guests this weekend ❤️ we’ll keep pushing as always. view all 5,717 comments scuderiaferrari the most precious guests EVER user literally. user guys he’s using plurals again!!! user it has to be about @/yourusername too user crying they’re so cute carlossainz55 can’t wait for her to design my next helmet 🌶️ charles_leclerc OUR* yourusername sweet baby girllllll 🩷🧸🎀

lando.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 274,892 others lando.jpg mrs. 305 tagged yourusername view all 3,672 comments user omg. user are her and lando dating? user i hope not user they would be so cute carlossainz55 damnnnnn 🌶️🥵 lando.jpg don't poke the bear @/charles_leclerc charles_leclerc 😒 yourusername don’t ever let me take another tequila shot again lando.jpg should i cancel the ones i just ordered to your room? yourusername you BETTER be joking charles_leclerc is that why i opened the door to shots? charles_leclerc mon dieu user no like she's so pretty user they're sharing a room!??? landonorris tagged yourusername in a story!

seen by charles_leclerc, yourbsf, carlossainz55, and 900,281 others yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, and 65,428 others yourusername who let lando behind the dj booth last night???? tagged landonorris view all 2,318 comments maxfewtrell he’s such a 🐍 user omg her and lando?? user lando has been in love with her for so long user can we just take in that charles didn’t like this post? user charles has a habit of not liking any of her posts with other men 👀 user ariana what are u doing here user where is charles?? user prob with his daughter bc she clearly isn't lol user it's HIS daughter landonorris i'm so lucky user WHAT!!!!!!! user GUYS HELP user IS HE CONFIRMING?!!!? yourusername you need to stop trolling the internet lando user DJ LANDOOOOO HAS RETURNED

YOU BEGIN TO wonder whether the universe harbors some inexplicable grudge against you. Because really, you always make sure to check in on your friends often. You always make sure to pay your bills on time, if not earlier. Heck, you even make sure to donate to a different charity every month. Yet, as the jet encounters heavily turbulent skies on the way to Miami, the persistent question echoes in your mind ‘why me?’.

Luckily, a bundle of joy rests on your lap, cupping your face in her hands, and playfully squeezing your cheeks. A sweet distraction from the terror you feel inside. It’s adorable how earnestly she tries to impact calmness in you, even though her eyes are half shut with sleep. 

“Ne sois pas effrayé,” Don’t be scared. Her voice maintains its gentleness as she swiftly loses interest in your cheeks, redirecting her tiny hands to play with the ends of your hair. “Je suis là avec papa.” Me and papa are here.

“Chérie,” Charles coos at his daughter, picking her up from your lap and resting her down on the bed. “Repose-toi bien," Get some rest. He tucks her into the bed, a space far too vast for her tiny body, nestling her favorite fluffy bunny stuffed animal by her side. You observe in admiration as he plants a gentle kiss to her forehead, then tenderly strokes her hair in a soothing manner.

“J’ai besoin qu’elle me borde, papa,” I need her to tuck me in. Her tiny fingers point to you and your heart instantly tightens. With a slight shake in your steps, you make your way to the bed, sitting on the side of it. “Bonne nuit, ma petite.” Goodnight, little one.

“Bonne nuit, maman,” Goodnight, mom. The words were mumbled with sleep, but it was the name that couldn’t be ignored.

For a brief period, both you and Charles experienced a suspended moment, a pause in time. Never had she referred to you in such a way, and you certainly didn’t want Charles to assume you influenced her perception in any manner.

“I don’t know why she said that.”

Caught like a deer in headlights, you pivot your head to face him. Panic courses through you, eyes widened, heart pounding. Yet, as you turn to Charles, he appears nonchalant, offering only a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“C’est bien.” It’s okay.

In a hushed pause, the both of you remain motionless aside from turning your head back to the sleeping toddler, entranced by how peaceful she looks. However, Charles finds it hard to divert his gaze from you. His eyes focus on the serene scene of his daughter’s fingers delicately entwined with yours, even in the depths of sleep, acknowledging the profound connection between you two. In these tranquil moments, where your presence is indispensable for tucking her in, Charles not only appreciates the nurturing care you offer but also recognizes the profound love and solace you impact. He can’t help but feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

Only when Charles’s gentle hands tenderly squeezed the back of your neck, providing a subtle massage to your tense muscles, did you become acutely aware of the extent of your own exhaustion.

“Allez, dormons un peu, d’accord?” Let’s get some sleep, yeah? His lips delicately brushed against the shell of your ear, followed by a tender kiss on your temple, guiding you toward the other bed on the jet. Wrapping his arms snugly around your body, he let the both of you fall onto the mattress. While pulling the covers over both of you, your face pressed against his chest clad in a soft t-shirt. As you planted a gentle kiss above the neckline, you could feel the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat.  

Despite the passing of a few months since that initial kiss, your connection with Charles retained a serene simplicity. In the quietude of your shared moments, you found solace. Deliberately, you resisted the temptation to let your mind drift into the what if’s, choosing instead to remain in the present moments. 

However, within his mind, thoughts raced at a million miles a minute. Regardless of the casualness of your relationship you both claim to have, he couldn’t stop picturing you with swollen breasts and a swollen belly. The moment his daughter called you ‘maman’, an almost feral instinct surged within him. It was a wild and untamable force. He couldn’t stop imagining you pregnant. Full of his kid. Full of him. The need to fill you up with all of him was all but surging through his veins. All the blood was rushing to his cock, and he knew he needed to get these thoughts out of his head. 

“Bonne nuit,” Goodnight. His voice sounded so rough as his arms tightened around you and you easily fell into a quick slumber, feeling so safe in his arms from the turbulent skies.

-

The abrupt touchdown of the jet resonated through the cabin, rousing you from slumber. A ballet of movement ensued before your eyes met the scene: Charles had migrated to one of the plush seats, his daughter perched upon his knee. The ambient hum of the aircraft formed a backdrop to the unfolding familial vignette, a delicate interplay of affection. As Charles tenderly pinched his daughter’s cheeks, childlike laughter following their hushed whispers.

Charles shifted his gaze towards you, now upright on the bed. Your tousled hair framed a face adorned with the lingering softness of sleep, and your eyes, slightly puffy with remnant of slumber, held a captivating allure. Despite your disheveled state, he couldn’t help but find that you remained the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Bien dormi?” Sleep well?

A gentle smile played on your lips as you rose from the bed, indulging in a languorous stretch that showcased the contours of your body. The fabric of the t-shirt clung momentarily, revealing the subtle canvas of freckles adorning your stomach to Charles. His gaze involuntarily flicked away, a reflex triggered by the flooding memories, thoughts of you pregnant resurfacing in vivid detail. The mere glimpse of your stomach had him internally spiraling. 

“Uncle Lorenzo and Auntie Char want to see you bébé,” baby. A ripple of excitement danced in his daughter’s eyes as she clapped her hands joyfully at the mere mention of her uncle. Lorenzo and Charlotte had made their way to Miami a few days prior, cleverly disguising their visit as an opportunity to vacation while supporting Charles in the impending race. This strategic maneuver afforded you and Charles the luxury of solitude in the days leading up to the event, a rare and treasured gift compared to the last few months.

-

“Merde,” Shit. He grunted as his head fell back against the headboard of the shared bed. His green eyes watching you with flushed cheeks as you worked yourself over his cock. “This is where you belong, yeah?” 

The morning sun peeked through the curtains of the hotel room. Eliciting a warm glow in the hotel room as you sunk down onto him deeper than before. Your pussy fluttering around his length, appeasing the ache that he created before you even opened your eyes. 

You nodded your head repeatedly. ���Mon dieu, yes.” 

His hands cup your ass, fingers pressing firmly into the delicate layers of your skin, leaving an imprint as if searching for a connection beneath the surface. Controlling your movements, he urges you to move more frantically. The feeling of your hot, wet, pussy squeezing him was almost too much for him to handle.

With each passing second, the pressure of his fingers increased, creating a sensation of both command and invitation at the back of your neck. His touch was a deliberate grasp, not just holding but asserting dominance. Your lips met in a symphony of desire.  His tongue slipping into your mouth instantly, brushing against yours as he held you against him. Your nipples flushed against the toned muscles of his chest as you leaned in, and the pound of his hips fucking upwards into you, had you all but mewling into his mouth. 

“C’mon mon ange, don’t make me wait.” My angel.

You’re not sure if it was the pet name or the fact that you loved to please him. Or maybe the brush of his body against your clit. But your orgasm came quickly after while the tears spilled slowly from your eyes. He swallowed every moan you gave him like it was his own source of oxygen before flipping both of you over and pushing you face first into the mattress.

Every moan you gave him was like fuel to the pound of his hips. He was completely lost in the feeling of you. “Take it all,” he grunted as he pushed your body into the mattress deeper than before, his eyes not moving from the sight of his cock coated with you and slipping into you. 

You were begging and pleading him to give you more, more, more. You don’t know what more he could give you; you just knew you needed it.

“So pretty like this,” he muttered, “like you were made just to take my fucking cock whenever I need.” His thrusts began to slow, but the speed didn’t alter just how good they felt. No, he pushed himself even further, hitting all the spots just right. It was as if he was trying to become one with you. Like he wanted merge you two into a singular existence. 

“Cha,” You moaned out his name and you couldn’t see but his eyes widened. His heart clenched at the nickname. He pulled out quickly, provoking a complaint from your lips as he began scooping one of his arms under your stomach and flipping you onto your back. He took a second to just look at you, a shine forming in his eyes as he observed you. You look absolutely fucked. Cheeks flushed, hair all over the place, eyes glossed with satiation, and red marks all over your neck from his fingertips.

“Needed to see your face,” he answered before you could ask, slipping his cock back into your needy hole. The confession making your heart clench and the stretch of his cock had your stomach doing flips. “Besoin de voir tes yeux.” Needed to see your eyes.

His gaze was unwavering and fixed upon you. It was as if sought to etch the intricate details of your face into the canvas of his memory. He wanted to capture every nuance, every curve, and every expression that you made. 

“Merde, let me cum in you.” His eyes trailed down your face, to your neck, to your breasts. The bounce of your breasts from the force of his hips had him in a trance, thoughts of you with swollen breasts came back to mind. When he felt your pussy clench around him at the phrase, a smirk formed. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up sweet girl?

“S’il ti plaît,” please. You were pleading. You wanted nothing more. “J’en ai besoin.” I need it.

Charles’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at your confession. His groaning and grunting increasing in volume as he pounds into you harder, every inch of his cock pressing against your velvet walls as he releases into you, making you feel all warm inside. 

“Tu es parfaite.” You’re perfect. He collapses beside you; his voice was so low that you almost didn’t hear him mumble the words as he pressed his lips to your collarbone before resting his head on the pillows. You felt your cheeks redden almost instantly, brushing off the compliment with a smile and small laugh. 

“Je dois prendre une douche.” I need to shower. The mixture of his and yours cum was oozing down your leg. You could still feel the warmth of it. Charles mumbled a soft “mmmm”, already drifting off into a slumber. 

-

You weren’t sure what changed in the few minutes you were in the bathroom, but you could feel the unease build in your stomach as you emerged with a towel wrapped around your frame and skin flushed red from the heat of the water to Charles pacing around the room, a knuckle in between his teeth.

He was agitated to say the least. He felt betrayed by you.

A subtle smile played on Charles’s lips as the sound of the shower resonated in the room, accompanied by your soft hum of a song he couldn’t name. The ambiance of the hotel room cocooned him in a profound sense of peace, and in that moment, he wished he could stay here eternally with you. Kissing you, touching you, inside of you.

When he heard the buzzing of a phone on the table beside the bed, he instinctively reached for it without glancing at the screen, presuming it to be his own. Given the context of it being a race weekend, early morning phone calls were expected. 

“Bonjour?” Hello? He let out a cough, clearing his throat from the sound of sleep and satiated desire. The subtle rasp carried with it the traces of his happiness.

“Ah bonjour, hello, this is Camille with Christian Dior.” The woman’s voice echoes into Charles’ ear. He sits up immediately, back against the headboard. His first thought was ‘why is Christian Dior calling me?’ but it wasn’t that abnormal either. Companies reached out to him all the time for collaborations. “I am calling regarding the application we received for the internship and wanted to schedule and in-person meeting.”

Charles felt his stomach twist in knots as he listened to Camille chatter into the phone. Application? Internship? Moving the phone from his ear, he looked at the phone realizing that it was in fact yours and not his. This call was for you, not him. Camille’s voice was muffled as it was pulled away from his ear. 

A wave of nausea coursed through Charles, the unexpected revelation at the possibility of you leaving hitting him hard. How could you just apply for another job like that? He felt himself growing antsy and restless as thoughts swirled in his head. Camille, who was confused by the silence, mumbled something about calling back later due to the lack of response from Charles.

He dropped the phone onto the duvet of the bed, standing up and pacing the room while he felt himself begin to question everything. Questioning why you would leave. Does he not give you enough? Was it too much to handle? As his thoughts droned on, taking a turn for the worse, he began to feel angry. Angry that you considered leaving this job. He began to see red.

“Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas?” What’s wrong? You were cautious, not standing too close to him to give him some space. His head whipped in your direction almost too quickly. 

Your attention was drawn to the wrinkle lines etched on Charles’s forehead, marking the aftermath of his furrowed eyebrows. The subtle creases and wrinkles, usually absent in is carefree demeanor, painted you a picture of his current inner turmoil. When you shifted your gaze to meet with his narrowed eyes, the cautious padding of your bare feet seemed to echo.

It was an unfamiliar sight to witness Charles engulfed in such a storm of emotions. The stark contrast to his usual carefree and joyful demeanor.  He was blinded by his rage as he muttered the next words.

“Es-tu idiote?” Are you stupid? His jaw was clenched. A soft gasp left your lips as you clutched tighter onto the top of your towel, feeling rather exposed now. “Demande à Christian Dior.” Ask Christian Dior. His spat out the name Christian Dior with such disdain. As if it were dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

Your eyes widened, everything clicking. You weren’t sure how he knew, but he was answering your internal thoughts before words could form on your tongue.

“Ils t’ont appelé. J’ai répondu par erreur.” They called you. I answered by mistake. He let out a loud sigh as he leaned against the dresser across from the end of the bed, his forearms flexing as he gripped onto it tightly. You noticed the definition of his muscles and veins forming on his arms. He was squeezing the dresser, trying to gain some relief from such anger swirling within him.

At first, you wanted to argue him for answering your phone. But you knew him. You knew he wasn’t snooping. He said it was a mistake, so you took his word for it.

“Qu’ont-ils dit?” What did they say? You weren’t sure how to approach this conversation with him. You especially were not expecting it to go this way, with you wrapped in only a cotton towel.

His eyes narrowed to an almost imperceptible slit, the vibrant green drained from any warmth of presence. “Are you serious?” The exasperation in his voice reverberated through the room. Your question seemed to strike a nerve, leaving him incredulous. Was that all you had to say? The absence of an explanation hung in the air, adding more tension to the charged atmosphere between you two.

“Ne me crie pas dessus.” Don’t yell at me. You felt your own anger building at his attitude. Who did he think he was? You padded back to your suitcase, grabbing whatever outfit you could without paying attention. You weren’t sure what you even grabbed or if it even matched, but you didn’t care. You were too busy listening to Charles raise his voice.

“Don’t walk away from me.” He pushed off the dresser, trailing behind you. “What is this internship you applied for?”

You didn’t answer right away, instilling more anger within Charles. “Answer me. You’re just going to leave like always?” His tone struck you with disbelief, the harshness leaving an unexpected sting. The air was too intense. You needed to get some air.

Like always?

You turned and faced him. “Are you asking me as my boss or my fuck buddy?” You knew it was a low blow, but it was so unfair for him to be this mean to you. It wasn’t even necessarily his words but his tone that bothered you most. He spoke to you as if you were a child who needed punishing.

You had a shirt half-way over your head and black leggings on. “It’s just a summer internship. I didn’t even do the interview yet, but you seem to know that already.” You waved him off, rushing around the room to get your stuff. You needed to get out of here. You weren’t going to sit here and let him berate you.

“You can’t just leave.” He followed you to the door, gripping your wrist to pull you back towards him. You yanked your arm out of his grip.

“You’re just like everyone else.” His words tumbled out incoherently, much like uncontrollable word vomit. He could feel the panic rising in him as you made your way towards the door. “Right. Use me and then leave. It’s all I’m good for.”

His words twisted your stomach, and you chose to overlook the burning ache in your heart.

“Fine. Just go fuck your ex-boyfriend or something. Or Lando. I know he wants you.” He stood there, chest heaving up and down with his heavy breaths. You pulled the door open, standing in the frame, you took one last glance at him.

“Va te faire foutre.” Go fuck yourself. And with that you were out the door.

-

“Je n’arrive pas à le croire!” I can’t believe him! “C’est vraiment un connard.” He’s really such an asshole.

“Babes, you’re g’na need to speak in English for me to understand,” he laughed before taking a sip of his beer, “you muppet.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at Lando, seated across from you in the elegant ambiance of the hotel restaurant. Adorned in a snug black dress, every curve of your figure accentuated, the crystal jewels meticulously tracing the contours of your breasts. The garment displayed a subtle dip between your cleavage, adding an enthralling touch. It was safe to say you looked fucking good. Or as Lando said, “holy fucking shit, you took the air out of my lungs.” Which in response, you couldn’t resist a playful shove to his shoulder.

In the aftermath of the argument with Charles, you found yourself in the company of Lando, driven partly by Charles’s mention of him. Despite the strained circumstances, your connection with Lando remained strictly platonic. However, Lando’s penchant for flirting was a constant, adding a playful dynamic that colored your friendship. Thankfully for Lando, he was the reason you were able to even get a change of clothes seeing as you left the hotel room earlier in complete disarray. It was still your day off, one that was originally supposed to be spent with Charles. Lorenzo and Charlotte were still taking care of Charles’s daughter, leaving your night wide open.

“Martin’s driver is picking us up soon,” Lando declared, drowning the remainder of his beer and emphatically slamming the bottle onto the table. There was still two more days before the race weekend began, meaning Lando wanted to go out to which you agreed easily. Meanwhile, you maintained a composed sip from your glass of wine. With a playful glint in his eye, Lando added, “Get your dance moves ready muppet.” The prospect of the evening ahead seemed to carry a promise of lively escapades.

Your laughter echoed, creating a buoyant atmosphere as you seamlessly fell into a comfortable conversation with Lando. His easy-going nature and banter helped soothe the lingering nerves from the earlier argument with Charles. In that moment, you felt nothing but gratitude for Lando’s presence.

-

The vibrant lights of the club painted the atmosphere in a kaleidoscope of colors, while the unmistakable scent of alcohol lingered in the air. The club pulsated with energy of the intoxicated crowd, bodies swaying to the vibrations of music surrounding them. It wasn’t until you reached the DJ booth that you felt a wave of reassurance wash over you. 

The night unfolded with a multitude of shots, some in which you had to pretend to take, just to save yourself from vomiting on the floor. The music provided a lively group, thus creating a joyous atmosphere. You surrendered to the rhythm, dancing through the hours, deliberately steering clear of thoughts about the brunette Monegasque who typically occupied your mind.

As you slid out of the booth, making your way to the bathroom, you finally pulled your phone out of your purse. The screen was littered with missed calls and multiple messages, most from nonetheless Charles.

from Charles (dilf)    Where are you?                                              18:45 You’re such a brat.                                          19:19 Really? You’re with Lando?                             22:47 Could your dress be any fucking shorter?    22:51 Tu essaies de me tuer                                  01:27 You’re really testing my patience                01:46

You didn’t answer. Feeling triumphant as you snickered to yourself at his messages, him clearly struggling with the concept of you being out with Lando. Slipping the phone back into your purse, you continued your night, leaving all worries behind. Because if you didn’t, the mere reality of the argument with Charles would have you vomiting on the floor.

-

It was honestly insane how the sun was just beginning to rise. Yet, you and Lando were just stepping foot into the hotel not even a few minutes ago, drunken laughter between you both as you exited the elevator to Lando's floor. No doubt, pictures of you and Lando surfacing all over the internet tonight. But you weren’t worried about that. What you were worried about was the angry brunette standing outside of Lando’s hotel room door, his arms crossed, and eyes tired as if he didn’t sleep the entire night.

You and Lando both sobered up quickly from the sight of him, brooding in front of the hotel door. Charles opened his mouth, utilizing both of your native tongue to exclude Lando from the conversation.

“Tu es putain de sérieuse?” Are you fucking serious? The harsh tone he used drew you back to the argument that had occurred earlier in the day. Or should you say yesterday?

“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here?

He rolled his eyes, teeth gritting as he looked over to Lando smiling beside you with his hotel room key in hand. “Muppet, are you sleeping over, or no? I’m tired.”

Charles didn’t afford you a moment to respond before swiftly shutting him down. The gaze he directed at Lando carried a lethal intensity, a silent warning that spoke volumes. “Absolutely fucking not.” Charles’s grip tightened on your arm, an assertive pull guiding you down the hallway toward the elevator. Surprisingly, you didn’t resist, allowing the momentum to carry you forward. You looked back at Lando who had a smirk on his face and winked at you. What a fucker.

The elevator enveloped you both in an oppressive silence, interrupted only by rhythmic beeping accompanying each floor you ascended. Charles maintained a deliberate gap between you, yet his hand remained firmly clasped around your wrist. In the mirrored surface of the doors, your eyes locked onto each other, breaths syncing. As the doors finally opened, Charles propelled you out with a gentle push, his body behind yours. 

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the hotel room that Charles unleashed a torrent of emotions upon you. His voice, thick with a mixture of anger, jealousy, hurt, and worry, carried the weight of the pent-up emotions he had been harboring. He had seen the stories, the posts, and even the photos of you at dinner, images captured by fans.

The way you smiled at Lando in the pictures had him throwing his phone. And don’t even get him started on the dress. The fucking dress.

“Do you like Lando?” He sneered, jealousy bubbling inside of his chest.

And because you felt like stirring the pot even more, you smirked. “Yes.” And although it was the truth, it wasn’t what Charles thought. You felt bad as you saw his face fall, but he deserved it just for a little bit at the very least.

You could feel all the thoughts racing through Charles head before he pulled you both towards the balcony, staring at the city skyline instead of at you. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice thickening with emotion, “What about me? What about us?”

“As a friend.” You finally announced, turning your body to fully face Charles. “I like Lando as a friend, Cha.” You confirmed, a groan leaving your lips. “Do we have to do this right now? I’m so tired and my feet hurt.”

“Oui.” Allowing no room for further complaints, Charles pulled you into an embrace, his arms enveloping you and effectively trapping you between the warmth of his body and the balcony railing. He nestled his head in the crook of your neck, finding a moment of relief in the reassurance that you were back, and in his arms. The tight hold on you spoke of relief.

“You’re mine,” He states. “Label or no label.” He's possessive in the way he speaks and touches you. Like he needs to get his point across. You feel him laugh as his fingers trail around your front side, trailing down until he can slip them up the front of your dress, pressing his fingers to your lace covered core. It was almost too easy. The dress was so short.

The desperate ache in the pit of your tummy grows with each swipe of his thumb along your covered clit. You began to forget why you were even fighting in the first place, his hands on you felt too good. You lulled your head back against him, making more room for his lips to attack on your neck.

Your ability to articulate words faltered, your legs turning to jell-o under his embrace. With one arm securely wrapped around your waist, he became your anchor, ensuring that you remained standing. 

“You want my fingers?” His lips are hot on your ear. He slips his fingers beneath your underwear, feeling just how wet you really are. It was almost too easy. “So fucking wet and warm, mmm.” He groans as he slips one finger inside of you, moving it so slowly that you began to get frustrated with the pace. Your hips rut, trying to speed up his fingers, but he holds you in place removing your ability to move.

Your body begins to tremble as he increases the pace of his finger, inserting another one and curling it, hitting the spot you ached most. You want to cum so badly; you want to soak his fingers and tremble around them. “So greedy.” He takes your ear lobe in between his teeth, nibbling gently on it before trailing his tongue down the rest of your neck. “Taking my fingers so well.”

You groaned, his words pushing you towards your climax quicker than anticipated. He could tell you close with the way you were squeezing his fingers so tightly, and the way your words were almost incoherent. As soon as your arm reached back, your fingers brushing through his hair, he pulled his fingers out of you.

“No!” You half-shrieked at the loss of contact, pulling his hair in the process. Your face blushed and eyebrows furrowed from the loss of his fingers.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He flips your body around, your back flush against the balcony railing now. The breeze continues to blow your hair around, no doubt making a mess of it.

“You tell me you’re mine.” You bite back, refusing to say it first. Charles began laughing, it reverberated in his chest. 

“Oh, mon ange.” He ignores what you say, trailing his eyes down your body. “This fucking dress.” His words are sharp as he begins gripping the ends of your dress and shoving it upwards, exposing you completely to him now. He placed a quick slap of his finger tips to your clit, the shock and sting of the slap turning you on more than you could imagine.

He pulls you forward, hands squeezing your neck, the area right under your jaw line to be more specific, lips immediately pressing against yours. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. It was hot, messy, and wet. A clashing of teeth and tongue as he sucked on your tongue. Leaving you almost no room to breathe in the process. But you didn’t mind, his kisses were intoxicating.

The firm presence of Charles’s hand on your neck persisted, the subtle pressure from the pads of his fingers inducing a dizzying effect. It was a tactile reminder of his control, a touch that left your head spinning, and wanting more. “I’ve always been yours.” He doesn’t let you respond before he’s pulling your lips back to his. This time, his fingers slip back into your heated core, assaulting and curling them just how you needed them. You breathed hotly into his mouth as your orgasm crashed over you. It was quick and hot. Charles could’ve sworn he was going to cum right in his pants at the feeling of you squeezing his fingers, coating them in you. He’s never been more jealous of his fingers in his life.

He flips you around again, fumbling with the button of his pants as he shoves them down, them falling to a pile around his ankles. He wasn’t slow, rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, he teased you both for a little bit.

When he finally slipped into you, you swore you were going to cum again. You had to squeeze the railing harder to prevent yourself from doing so. You wanted to cum with him. 

“Squeezing me so well.” He moaned, the wind picking up and the only glimmer of light was from the sun barely peeping over the horizon. You couldn’t believe you were doing this, out in the open of a hotel balcony, but the thrill of it made it that much more exciting.

“Tu aimes ça, hm?” You like that? He pushes you forward so that your chest was pressed to the railing, your head dangling over the edge as you looked down from the height of the building. Everything looked so small from this height. “Want the whole world to know you’re mine.” He continues.

“Want to fill you up.” You clench hard around him, soft moans escaping your lips into the air in response. Charles couldn’t help but feel his heart pound as he muttered the next words. “Want to fill you up with my cum, want to fuck a baby into you.” 

At first, he was nervous muttering the words aloud. But the clench of your pussy around his cock only eased his nerves. Your moans increasing in volume told him just how much you liked that too.

“Merde,” Shit. You were mewling into the open air, the increase in pace of his hips had you seeing stars. 

“Are you gonna let me?”

“Yes!” You were yelling it repeatedly. His fingers crawled their way around your body, slipping into the dip in the front of your dress and pinching your nipples. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“C’mon donne-le moi.” Give it to me. And boy did you. You both came with a loud cry, the sound of his hips slapping into your backside a faint noise compared to the moans. The warmth of his cum seeping into you for the second time in less than 24 hours. Although, you were on the pill, you still liked to play along with the idea of being pregnant. The idea of Charles filling you up turned you on like no other.

You both took a few seconds to recoup, trying to catch your breath. He pulled out slowly, but brought his fingers down, pushing the mixture of both of your cum back inside you. He didn’t want a single drop of it to go to waste. 

He turned you around, bringing your lips to a sweet kiss.

“Je suis désolée.” I’m sorry.  His eyes hold your own. “I should’ve said it sooner. I didn’t mean any of it, I swear. The idea of you leaving had me freaked out, you didn’t deserve any of it. You..”

A small smile graces your lips as you see how genuine he is and you lean up on your tippy toes, bringing your lips back to his. Essentially shutting him up, his hands wrap back around you, lifting you off the ground as he carries you back into the hotel room, both of you collapsing into the bed.

“Even if I got a new job, I’m still yours.” You started. “But actually, there’s this great nanny job I heard about.” Charles feels panic forming in his chest again. But you continue on, “It involves the cutest little girl ever. I also heard that the dad is so hot and cool. Did I mention he’s single?” You joke, laughter erupting between the both of you as he cradles you into his body.

“I don’t think he’s single.”

“Yeah. He definitely isn’t.”

And that was all he needed to hear.

[byerseason]

why byler is the only logical way to end stranger things: a personal opinion

long post incoming. i've been thinking about what else can they do other than canon byler or is there any logical way which would please everyone. but i genuinely can't find any logical ending.

first of all, let's see the options i heard from people who doesn't think byler is gonna happen.

not adressing will's love for mike, mike never finding out about it and will's arc simply focusing on supernatural part : well, we all know that's impossible. not after spending a whole season to show us his deep love for mike. also it's confirmed that an emotional arc for him is what is gonna tie up the story.

"his love for mike was for him to explore his sexuality, he's gonna have another boyfriend." : they could easily show it to us without bringing mike into it. the byers moving to california was a perfect chance for it since it's a place better than hawkins when it comes to LGBT, they could easily give him a love interest, include him to their journey to find el just like they included argyle and give him a good character arc in s5, just like robin in s4. well, they didn't.

"mike is gonna reject will" : okay, then what was the reason of making him fall in love with mike? did the writers want to write a horrible story for the only gay child in the group? especially after showing us how miserable he feels about mike and how much he loves him? no.

now let's look deeper at the character arcs. my biggest reason to think byler is the only logical way is: will byers

i don't think i have to mention how much will suffered throughout the show and how he needs the happiest ending. they left season 4 at a point where everything about that love triangle is unresolved and they're obviously going to do something with it.

we all know mike is the one who understands will the most. he always been, since the very beginning. we've been shown that their bond is different and special. in a scenario where mike rejects will, we all know this is gonna be ruined. will is not gonna magically bury his love and go back to being besties with mike. and for mike, it's not possible for him to ignore will's love for him and stay friends as nothing happened. it would ruin their friendship for absolutely nothing.they can't simply take the only one who understands away from him.

will said he wants to spend the rest of his life with mike for two times. even if he doesn't have any hope, he desires it. so why giving him a love that he will never have? in this scenario will's character arc is literally "the gay kid always thought he will never have love just because he is gay, he thinks it's wrong and he is a mistake, well yes, he was right! he will never find the love and just watch the other straight people have it. thanks for watching stranger things." will's arc should be an arc where he is proven wrong, where he understands it's okay to love, where he is loved the way he loves, purely. otherwise his character arc is gonna be useless. where did we leave will in s4? he was thinking there's no chance for mike to love him and he has zero hope-- he ripped off the band aid. if mike rejects him the character arc and all the build up in season 4 becomes useless. he was at zero, and he is still at zero.

like i said giving him an arc where he is loved the way he loves was easy to be done without mike but now it's too late. they made it super clear that will doesn't want to be loved, he wants to be loved by mike. mike hurts him yet he still thinks mike makes him feel like he's not a mistake at all. that's not a simple crush. that's pure love. as a writer of a show you don't spend too much time to sympathize the characters love to the audience -something you never did with your other characters, at least not as much as will- you don't show them pouring their heart to a gift, just to waste it, just to make the character feel the worst they can feel just to make the person they love happy. will loves mike such a way that he prioritizes his happiness over his. this is what is gonna pay off.

the second character whose character arc needs byler: mike wheeler

mike has always been the most complicated character of the show, but most of his actions have no explanation other than him dealing with his own feelings. the show introduced mike as the leader of the party and i think it's okay to say he was one of the main characters in season 1 & 2. what happened after s2? a crazy character downfall. the audience started to dislike him and think he is useless. he didn't have any character development in the past 2 seasons. why? why? why?

because we all just watched him struggling. dealing with something inside of his mind that we don't know.

let's talk about a scenario where byler doesn't happen. this makes all mike's arc about being a love interest since s3. no development, no explanation for his behavior in the past 2 seasons. of course mike is traumatized and never talks to anyone which effects his behavior a lot. but there's still an unanswered question. why is he distancing himself from will specificially? the writers showed us that they understand each other the best, they know each other the best and notice if somethings wrong, so why is he distancing himself from the person who he needs the most as a best friend?

this is where we start to think if the problem is will himself, for mike.

why did we make will fall in love with mike just for mike to distance himself from will for no reason and make will upset? did we want will to suffer for no reason or create an empty storyline?

if mike is not how we think he is, he is going to end the show with an empty character arc who is nothing but a love interest, a side character. if mike ends up how we think he is, he is going to be the best onscreen representation of internalized homophobia. people think he is useless or just an asshole but he will turn out to be a perfectly written character who has his own arc.

people love to say "gay people didn't exist in 80s, byler would be unrealistic." which is completely wrong. gay people DID exist in 80s and they DID find love. did they have peace? they didn't. this is why mike and will are gonna be a real representation. we watched all the real struggles they went through. even if we don't get to see them as a couple, they will know they love each other by the end and that's what matters. and there's nothing unrealistic about it.

[shadowed-dancer]

Villains and Their Fates - A Tragedy Would Have Been Fine By Me

I've seen a lot of people who try to write off frustration with the league's fates by saying "you just wanted them to survive" or "you're just upset your favourite character died". And while that may be true for a few people, I know that it's at least not true for myself (which must mean there are others who feel the same way). So today I'm here to share my thoughts. Despite liking the villains and wanting them to be redeemed, I was also willing to accept a well written ending if they died. I just wanted to ramble a bit about the three main villains (mostly Toga) and how I felt a tragic ending could have been improved.

The only villain I felt should have lived is Dabi, but that's more because of the awkwardness his unconfirmed death caused for Shoto (read this beautifully written analysis for more). If Dabi had to die, he should have died on the battle field OR in the hospital surrounded by family where he gets a few last words in. Leaving his fate unconfirmed leads to the ruined Shoto arc, but is also just weird for a character who has existed for so long. You're telling me that even Overhaul gets a confirmed ending but DABI doesn't?

I've also talked a bit about how Endeavor's survival ruins the subplot, and in 426 he continues by making Touya's final appearance about him (rather than the two brothers) but that's something I've talked about too much. If Endeavor has to be alive and hogging screen time, the least Hori could do is imply Touya will survive rather than die, so at least Enji isn't literally stealing time from his other family members to have some interaction with Touya.

If Touya has to end up in that machine, an ideal ending would have been the doctor saying "it will be a gruelling and near-impossible uphill climb to recovery" and then Shoto can smile and say "he's done it before". Boom. Simple as that. Leave it open, but at least on a positive note so we can assume that the family will have plenty of time to reconcile, as opposed to an unknown (but limited) amount of time that Enji vows to use to talk to him (yeah I know it's supposed to be a sweet gesture but even Touya calls bullshit on it). Let Shoto and Touya eat their soba, damn it!

For Shigaraki, my grievances extend to the writing of the entire final battle between him and Deku. As such, I don't have much to say aside from that because it really is just a product of poor writing. Neither were really allowed to talk before the big moment (hell, the vestiges were narrating Deku's emotions half the time like "he must be upset, this quirk meant so much to him". Why not let him tell us???) and the back-and-forth of Shigaraki being destroyed and then not only to be destroyed again was too much. It felt sloppy and hard to follow, and once you figured it out it just felt dumb. It's as if each chapter needed some massive reveal, but the story had done it so much at this point that it just felt tired and like it was happening "because Hori said so", and that should never be what drives a story.

Speaking of "because Hori said so"...

Oh Toga. Out of all the villains, I actually liked her confrontation the most. (Lies. If Dabi vs Shoto was the end of Dabi's fight, THAT would have been the best. But the Endeavor fight ruins it). Despite having limited screen time, Toga and Uraraka had a surprisingly well-built dynamic. Their few interactions were actually meaningful and created a strong foundation for a fight, and at the very least they had more of a personal connection than Deku and Shigaraki ever did. I think that Toga giving her blood to someone she loves (as opposed to drinking/taking their blood like she had said the whole series) is a beautifully tragic end to her character, but still something that could have fit.

To me, the problem comes with how she died. Let me replay the scene for you: Toga stabs Uraraka in the stomach and Uraraka bleeds too much because she keeps moving around. Toga then realizes she doesn't want Uraraka to die. To save her life, Toga has to do a blood transfusion with herself as a donor and she dies because she has to give ALL her blood.

Now... sure. Ok. Fine. Yeah. Maybe by real-world logic this makes sense. I guess. Whatever. But within the world of MHA, this setup is laughable.

Here's a list of things characters survived (or at least, they survived LONG ENOUGH to get to a hospital rather than dying on the battlefield): Deku shattering his bones with 1 million percent, whatever happened to Best Jeanist when AFO attacked him, Nighteye getting a massive spike through the torso, All Might with "his entrails strewn across the ground", Bakugo becoming Swiss cheese, Grand Torino being punched so hard a crater forms beneath him, Touya being a literal flaming skeleton, Bakugo's heart exploding, Edgeshot becoming a worm. Mirko getting a limb ripped off and then running full speed at Shigaraki. That's just off the top of my head, I know there's probably more.

But you want to tell me that Uraraka getting stabbed and then moving was a fatal wound that required ALL TOGA'S BLOOD? ALL OF IT? The reason Toga's death bothers me is that the setup cheapens the actual moment of sacrifice. It feels preventable, so when she tells us that Uraraka is going to die without her blood, all I could do is roll my eyes because I'm not allowed to use critical thinking skills, I have to just accept what Hori says and take it at face value.

If the author wants you to live as Edgeworm despite saying you were gonna die, you can. But if the author needs a stab wound to be fatal and require ALL of someone's blood? Well tough luck bud, that's just how it goes. Mirko can run and move all she wants after having a limb ripped off, but moving a bit after one stab wound is fatal. Why? Because I say so.

If Uraraka's wound was actually serious then this ending would have been a beautiful tragedy. But as it stands now, the ridiculousness of her wound makes it all feel preventable.

Oh, there's also the fact that Toga switching blood types when she transforms was never established, but I've rambled enough.

That's it. Thanks for reading!

[pebblestar]

Donnie x reader

【 A mutant baby? 】

(( established relationship. Fluff with a mix of crack? + suggestive. lots of mentions of having a kid together))

"Hey Don. I have a question." Donnie hums in response to show that you have his attention. You shift in the chair your were currently sat in, Nearly embarrassed for what you were about say. "If we had a baby together... Would I y'know pop out a literal humanoid turtle or a regular human baby?" The sound of his wrench clattering onto the metal table echoes throughout the lab and Donnie is whirling around in his chair to face you. He stares at you for a few moments as if to confirm thst your one hundred percent serious before clearing his throat. "Ahem well... I think I've told you before that it may just be impossible for our DNA to create a baby together...Uncompatible even," "Yeah you've told me that before." You confirm. "But hypothetically speaking- No I do not think you'll pop out a literal turtle, Y/n." The both of you have a small chuckle together before Donnie is continuing on with his explanation. "However, it could be possible that the baby could potentially have some sort of mutant gene's. But with no actual baby, it's hard to tell." You lean forward in your chair. A flirty smile making it's way onto your face. "Do you want to make some science together, Donnie?" Donnie just about splutters as he grows completely flustered at your choice of words. It takes him a moment to recover but he finally responds. "W...Well I wouldn't be opposed to it." There's a tension between you two and your about to make a move when Donnie is scooting closer until both of your chairs bump together. Donnie leans in closer, until his lips are hovering above yours. "....Would you like to me experiment on you, Y/n?" Donnie, too impatient to await your answer going in for a kiss before a loud and a all too familiar voice comes from the left of you two. "Whoa. You guys are actually having a little mutant baby?" You just about jump out of your skin as you turn to look over at Mikey almost in disbelief that he had somehow snuck in without you two hearing. "What the...? How long have you even been in here?!?" Donnie demands before he's Immediately standing up and trying to shove his brother out of his lab. "Get out! Shoo!" "This is awesome! I'm sooo telling the others that you two are having a baby! I'm going to be a uncle!" At this point you've stood up to watch the scene before you with some amusement. "Mikey we're not-" For Donnie's sake, you do try to put a stop to his little shenanigans and hopefully not give the other turtles a complete scare but it's too late. "I'm going to name him, Pizza Hamato-clan!" You hear Mikey's footsteps rush out of the lab then his shouting echoing throughout the lair. You however can't help but feel a bit offended he'd tried to name your imaginary baby himself. "Oh my god..." Donnie returns to you with a hand over his face completely embarrassed by the entire situation. "I can't believe him..."

"Me neither. Pizza Hamato-clan is a terrible name." That earns a laughs from Donnie, A few snorts escaping him. You walk up to Donnie before taking his hand in yours with a small smile. "Well, I guess this means we'll just have to actually try for a baby, won't we?" Donnie's hands squeeze yours before his expression softens. It makes your heart melt. "Would you really want to try for a baby with someone like me...?" Standing up on your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his snout. "Yes I would. But only if you were okay with it," There's a pause before your continuing softly. "There's no pressure, Don. It's just a little thought I've been having recently." His forehead presses agasint yours with a small smile. "It'd take some planning." "Yeah." "....But I wouldn't mind trying for one." The turtle wraps his arms around your waist. He lifts his head up before attempting to kiss you once again- Only for the sound of approaching footsteps to interrupt the moment once again. "Your both having a actual baby?" Leonardo's voice comes from the entry way of the lab. You and Donnie groan in unison at the lack of privacy today. But unfortunately, that is what happened when living with others. One thing was for certain though- You and Don would be getting Mikey back for this later. "Ain't no way. He didn't even put a ring on there finger yet." "Couples can still have a child together without being married, Raph." "And I've already named them. Pizza Hamato-clan!" "That's not how last names work, you dumbass. It ain't even yours either." Mikey makes a offended noise. "Don said it themselves- There going to be a mutant." Donnie let out a loud sigh, Earning the attention of his three brothers. He was half tempted to tell them you were having a baby just to hopefully get them to leave- but that was wishful thinking, especially considering that they'd probably ask more questions. *ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ After a brief explanation from Don, Raphael immediately took to grabbing a throw pillow from the couch in order to hit Mikey with it. Mikey, Who now was running out of the lab to quite literally escape his brothers wrath. Leonardo however stays behind. The turtle in blue watches Don fuss over some vials that'd been knocked over during Mikey and Raphaels shenanigans before turning his attention to you. "Everything okay?" You ask Leo curiously. He shakes his head 'No.' Before his next words have you tearing up. "I just wanted you to know that if you and Don were to ever have a baby together, That we'd do all we could to help support you. I know you said before you don't have the greatest relationship with your own family, But you have us now. You wouldn't have to try juggling all your responsibilities all at once, You know...?" There's a pause before he quickly adds. "Of course you'd have Don too but-" "No no no- I understand what your saying Leo. Thank you. That means so much." He visibly relaxes and let's out a small noise of surprise when you hug him. With a small smile, Leo gives you a few reassuring pats on the back. Eventually, He parts ways after hearing a crash coming from the living room- No doubt Mikey and raph aren't having a literal pillow fight to the death.

( or at least until one of them cries uncle. )

Donnie soon stops fussing over the messy work space, Deciding that he'd wait to clean up the mess. The turtle comes up from behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "You okay, sunshine?" "Yeah...Yeah I'm okay. Just... I'm happy that I've met you guys. Despite your brother's popping up at the worst of times, They really are like family to me." He presses you close to his chest with a warm smile on his face at your words. "I'm happy that my chaotic little family can be a safe space for you, Y/n." You chuckle softly before leaning into the turtle. A few moments of silence settle over the both of you, before a grin finds it's way onto your face. "....And I don't know, Maybe we should name our child Pizza Hamato-clan. Kinda catchy, don't you think?" "Oh my god. We are not naming them that." "I don't know Don, maybe it's time we be the first to name a kid 'Cheeseburger.' " "Stop." The both of you soon break into a fit of laughter at the ridiculous use of names. But even if there was possibility of having a kid or not, you knew you'd be just fine. After all, you now had a family to care and back you up if you needed it.

That was enough for you.

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

November 23: The Dorm Room | word count: 953 | @wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius never imagined he would get anything like this. The comfortable domesticity of lying in bed, curled around somebody else, not a care in the world. No overwhelming thoughts or memories, no residual pain lingering, nothing except him and the boy he loves. They lay tangled around each other, limbs indecipherable, bodies pressed as tight as they can go. Remus is carding his fingers through Sirius’ hair, drawing the occasional moan from his lips.

“You know, I’ve been thinking.” Sirius speaks into the silence. It has been weighing on his mind for a while now, this idea, and he needs confirmation that he is not alone in these too-big feelings.

“Have you now?” Remus replies, only halfway mocking.

“I have. It’s about us.”

“Us?”

“Nothing bad.” Sirius rushes to assure. He won’t let that small seed of doubt get planted in Remus’ mind. Sirius isn’t going anywhere, not unless he has quite literally no other choice. And even then he will go kicking and screaming. “I… well… I’ve been saving up my allowance for years now, ever since things started getting really bad at home. And I… I’ve… I have enough saved now for us to get a flat. Or at least, get us started.”

“Oh.”

“Unless that isn’t something you want. Because I understand if it is too early or you need some space from me. I know I’ve been clingy, but I can stop. I just… you make me feel so good, and you keep me from going to dark places. I’ve never had anybody like that before, so I—no, it’s okay. I know I’m too much; I can stop. I won’t be so pushy. I’ll—oumph.” His rant is cut off by Remus’ lips against his. As always, he melts into the kiss, dragging himself impossibly closer to Remus.

“Never stop.” Remus commands when he breaks the kiss. “Do you hear me? Never stop being you.”

“But—”

“No. You will not change for anybody. And you will certainly not change yourself for me. I love you just how you are.”

“Did you just—”

Remus’ whole body goes rigid, his beautiful autumn eyes flying wide open. He looks so young and innocent like this, even as fear holds his body captive.

“I love you, Remus. You have no idea how much I do. I was afraid I would say it too soon and rush things. James said it’s never too early to say it, but you know how he is. He practically proposed to Reggie on their first date. Remus, Godric, did you really think I would ask you to move in with me if I didn’t love you with every fiber of my being?”

“I—I didn’t mean to—It was supposed to be special.”

“It was special.” Sirius promises. “It was special because it was you. No matter how or when you said it, it would be special, because you are special.”

“Sirius…”

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” Each proclamation is punctuated with a kiss.

“Siri—no, wait!” Remus shrieks, trying to duck under the covers, but Sirius has his mind set on kissing every inch of Remus’ face, and he won’t be swayed from this essential mission. So, he loops his arms around Remus’ neck, and rolls his weight over him. His heart swells at the sight of the boy spread out below him, giggling and trying to squirm away from the overt affection.

Godric, he is the luckiest man on earth.

Seemingly having had enough of the pecking kisses, Remus ducks his head, moving to capture Sirius’ lips with his own. He eagerly follows Remus’ lead, glad to do anything he wants. He would walk to the ends of the earth if the other boy declared he must. He would go against his own morals if Remus asked with a smile. He’s fully lost in the whirlpool of love, but he isn’t desperate to get out any time soon, instead willing to drown himself in it.

“So, about the future…”

“Yeah?” Sirius asks, leaning his head on Remus’ chest. He is still laying fully on top of him, but he is far too content here to move, and Remus doesn’t seem to want him to move either if the arms looped around his waist, are any indication.

“I’ve been thinking too.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“Well, I think we have a cabin. I don’t care much for the city, and I think you would like a change in pace after your childhood. It’s not too far from town—a muggle one, where we don’t have to worry about my status. We are far enough that the Full Moon doesn’t pose any risks, but close enough that we could take walks into town if we want.”

“A cabin up on a hill so we can watch the sunrise and sunset together?”

“Of course. The windows are always open, and there is no dark hidden corners. Nothing that would remind us of home. This is ours. I would have books everywhere. You would try to organize them for me, but I would just take them down again. And you would have your own studio, in a room full of windows and light, where you could paint anything and everything you could imagine.

“We would have to have a floo, so our friends can visit whenever they want. And we would have to have game nights, can’t leave all our habits behind when we graduate.”

“Your mind is beautiful.”

“And yours is brave enough to get us there.”

Unable to help himself, Sirius dives in for another kiss. “To our future together, may we grow old and grey.”

[bannanasrus]

Should have picked a different Apartment

Contains Unwilling M/M vore with implied digestion

Going into the apartment that gave the thief bad vibes in the first place was the thief’s first mistake knocking over a vase was the second.

“Hell” cursed the thief hopping against hope, that no one had heard the crash of the vase.

Unfortunately for him the owner of the apartment had heard it, and very casually walked into the kitchen from the bedroom. “Can I help you” he asked in a polite manner that never the less held a threat.

“Oh hell”

“Indeed”

“Stay back I’m armed” warned the thief

“I quiver with fear” replied the owner a shark toothed grin spreading over his face

The thief swallowed, he hadn’t considered how big this guy really was when he’d made that threat but, taking him all in - he was about twice as wide as he was, and nearly a foot taller.

“Don’t even think about calling the cops!” He said attempting to gain some kind of control over the situation.

“Goodness me no” said the owner “I would never drag law enforcement here to deal with something so trivial”

“I’m trivial?” Asked the thief angrily in spite of his fear, yes he did have a reputation to uphold, in spite of the fact that he was currently frozen in fear.

“Yes” replied the owner “In a few hours, maybe a bit longer, you won’t be here” he considered something “Unless you want to get out right now that is, and save me the trouble”

“Hey! I think you’ve gotten mixed up with who is making the demands here!” snapped the thief. Less angry and more… huffy.

“Oh you are quite correct” replied the owner still smiling all the while - the same shark toothed calm smile.

“So, are you gonna give me all your money?” said the thief. It wasn’t actually a demand, it was a question. He really would have preferred to just get out of here, but his pride demanded that he at least make the attempt to leave here with some kind of valuables to put in his bag on the Balcony.

The owner stepped from the shadows, into an area that was bathed in moonlight and, shit thought the thief he really was Big, not big with a small b, but Big with a big B. He had short brownish hair which sat in a quiff, blue eyes, very lightly tanned skin, and it was impossible to not note his physique - he was positively herculean - the dressing gown he was wearing was only highlighting the thick round of his pecs which were visible at the top, and each of his thighs were as thick as a tree trunk - well maybe not literally but metaphorically yes!

“Is this a hold up?” he asked inquisitively still smiling “If it is, I feel the need of introductions, since we might be here a while - my name is Cecil”

“I won’t tell you mine!” replied the thief

“Very well” replied Cecil and thief could have sworn he added under his breath “It’s not as though food needs a name”

“Well I was just going to - ” quick as it had been said Cecil had moved forward at speed closing the distance between them, looming over the thief who gulped in fear again - he really didn’t want to see what this guy was going to do to him.

“Go?”

“Um”

“I wouldn’t like you to come all this way for nothing”

“No no, I want you to let me go”

“You know, I realised you looked familiar - though granted with those balaclavas every thief looks similar, but your build well that’s very distinctive - you robbed this building before didn’t you” his voice suddenly became very dangerous

The thief did remember it had been a few nights ago - an old lady’s apartment she had gotten up tried to take him, and he’d pushed her to the ground then he’d robbed her apartment. Not that there had been that much to take, only an antique necklace with a locket, it had been a waste though - too distinctive to get anything for it.

“Your silence, whether of fear or guilt is very confirming” said Cecil “Luckily for you, she isn’t dead” not thought Cecil that that’ll change your fate “But you did steal something of great sentimental value to her, a necklace, with a locket, made of gold?”

His and his boyfriend’s neighbour was an old, old lady who had once had to flee her home - the only treasure she had from it was in a necklace her parents gave to her as a child it contained a locket inside of which was a series of small locks of hair from her siblings. “Uh yeah” said the thief nervously, really regretting shoving that old lady now.

“Where is it?”

“In my bag”

“Which is where?”

“Oh the balcony”

Cecil moved to look at the dark balcony and saw the idiot thief attempting to lunge at him with a heavy lamp.

A few things happened in quick succession: first, Cecil dodged the swing, second the thief stumbled backwards losing his footing and finally third Cecil lunging forward like a python wrapped his huge arms around the thief opened his mouth wider than should have ben possible and shoved him headfirst into his mouth.

The thief shrieked in surprise and started kicking his legs trying to get out, but he was doomed Cecil slurped trying to see if any flavour came off of his meal. He disliked eating people like this he could never be sure that they were really clean, but oh well he was doing his part to keep crime off the street, and only part of his muscle came from the cheat of devouring people There was also the issue that clothes stood in the way of tasting the guy properly, there wasn’t much meat on him anyway. Sometimes - infact most of the time he preferred them this way - lean and mean easy to subdue though they still kicked up a storm in his gut speaking of which.

Angling his head back to help gravity do the rest he grabbed the socks and shoes off of the thief's feet and tossed them to the one side. In a few seconds the thief was curled in the stomach of Cecil whose dressing gown came loose exposing his tan thief filled gut and who let out a loud deep belch and moaned.

“you ate me, you actually ate me!!” Yelled the thief

“You tried to kill me with a lamp buddy” said Cecil

There were footsteps and in stepped Blake who merely sighed at Cecil’s gut. Whilst Cecil sat down on the sofa and spread his legs - the better to accommodate the expanse with.

“hey darling, said Cecil grinng at Blake who walked into the room and sat beside him

“it’s the middle of the night” replied Blake grumpily

“hey I didn’t choose what time this ruffian decided to perform home invasion!” Said Cecil cheerily

“you are way too upbeat at all times” grumbled Blake as he reached out with one hand and began rubbing Cecil’s stomach coaxing up another belch

“You are way too good at this” sighed Cecil dropping his head back and wrapping an arm around Blake’s torso pulling him against the dome of flesh that bulged occasionally with the struggles of its unwilling occupant in spite of himself Blake grinned and began rubbing with both hands as he shifted himself to straddle Cecil earning him a grunt of surprise and a belch as Cecil placed a hand on either side of Blake to keep him there. Blake leaned forward and tenderly kissed Cecil on his lips Cecil responded by wrapping his arms more firmly about Blake and giving a small moan of pleasure as Blake’s hands continued to massage him feeling as though he had found a good sized pocket of air Blake leaned away from Cecil as a gurgle starting in his stomach rapidly made it’s way up and out of Cecil’s mouth who had been sitting there eyes slightly heavy lidded

“Bouarrrrrrp” he moaned and Blake immediately fell back upon him “You are so so hot when you are like this” he whispered in Cecil’s ear “all full and belching” Cecil loved the praise from his gorgeous Boyfriend but…

“I’m hardly full” he replied “in fact I could scarf down 2, 3 more of these guys no problem” he whispered in Blakes ear he belched again smaller this time yet he chuckled as he saw Blake blush and giggle “in fact I still could do with another snack” he bit gently on Blakes ear relishing how it made Blake tingle all over “For some reason whenever I eat you - I feel at my fullest, my belly stretched to the max like I’ve eaten a full buffet plus some assholes that bother us on the way home - all of that just from you stretching me out” his voice was filled with desire, but it softened to gentle tenderness “all that from just you - my favourite 5 star meal”

“Cecil…” said Blake his hands moving from Cecil’s gut to his face “you are the most beautiful man” he kissed him moaning as Cecil’s hands began to grip his body until they were interrupted by a voice from Cecil’s gut

“Ewww, excuse me if you are going to, engage in activities then show me some respect and let me out”

“How are you still alive?” asked a gobsmacked Blake to Cecil’s gut “That last belch should have taken you to the Flats in the sky” he looked at Cecil who was similarly surprised

“Wait what the hell?” Yelled the thief

“Hey buddy good food shouldn’t talk” snapped Cecil annoyed that his time with Blake was being taken up by this asshat.

“I’m not food” shrieked the thief shoving violently against Cecil’s stomach walls

“Stop speaking and squirming” Said Cecil “Squirming’s all well and good at the start really gets me going - but after a while it’s just like shut up accept your fate and digest”

“You’re going to digest me?!!!” Shrieked the thief kicking again more violently

“Stop that” groaned Cecil grasping his stomach and belching again Blake slid off of his lap and onto the floor. It was surprisingly painful getting kicked - usually it didn’t hurt this much

“Hell no, Let me out - you can’t do this”

“You shouldn’t have broken into our Flat buddy”

“I am not your Buddy” yelled the thief shoving again at Cecils stomach walls this time actually hurting him more than quite a bit, damn it felt like getting stabbed - please tell me he didn’t actually have a weapon he thought to himself

“Ow” he whined “stop”

“Ha ha ha ha” not so confident now are you - you stupid greedy musclebound glutton”

“Stop hurting him” snapped Blake getting off the floor and ramming both hands onto the squirming mass Blake may not have had the ability to devour people and turn them to mush - but he certainly had the power to deliver a fierce push the thief yelped as we felt the shove and Cecil let out a loud rumbling belch. “BOUARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP Damn” ,he said “I must have gulped down a lot of air with that guy”. His hands returned to a much less engorged stomach.

“Would explain why he lasted so long and how despite being so scrawny he was able to give you such a bloat” said Blake whose own hands were on each of Cecil’s broad shoulders and were tracing down each of his biceps.

“Yeah” sighed Cecil “I mean he wasn’t so much scrawny as lean and thin”

“How did he taste” asked Blake

“Not of too much” replied Cecil “I was more eager to get him down than to taste him” Blake’s hand returned to and rubbed Cecil’s stomach feeling the lumps were moving weakly but not for much longer he thought

“Blake” asked Cecil

“Yes”

“Can you check the balcony please? This guy said he left his bag with Miss Olgania’s Locket in it”

“I will do that once I’m sure he can never rob Miss Olgania or us or anyone ever again” said Blake leaning forward and kissing Cecil

“Mmmmm” moaned Cecil moving forwards “My gut, my muscles - the most secure prison”

”Just right” Replied Blake smiling as his hands returned to his stomach.

Miss Valecia Olgania was aged somewhere in her seventies though she would never admit it insisting that she stopped aging at 39! She had grey hair pulled into a bun at the back of her head and wore a patterned black and white skirt and a pink top.

Upon hearing a knock at her door she moved over to it and after checking the spy-hole and seeing that it was her downstairs neighbours Cecil and Blake she unlocked, unchained and opened the door with a smile.

“Miss Olgania, it is our pleasure to return to you the locket that was stolen by the thief” said Cecil presenting the locket which was indeed within the black bag that the thief had said it was in, alongside several other presumably stolen goods which they had handed over the the police.

“Oh you really both are the kindest gentlemen!” Said Miss Olgania gladly taking the locket in her hands and holding it to her chest

“We just do our part for the community” Said Cecil

“and you are a part of it Miss Olgania” added Blake smiling

“But how did you get it back?!” Said Miss Olgania slightly puzzled - but only slightly.

Cecil laid a hand over the slight increase in thickness in his abs that was the only indication of his meal “let’s just say that he won’t be bothering you or us again any time soon.”

Miss Olgania simply smiled and laughed “Well all I can say is thank you my dears, and an invitation to my humble abode for a most ordinary meal is most certainly in order!” She invited them in and closed the door bustling over to where her calendar hung on a small hook and pulling it off, shall we say Friday night between 5 and 6?”

“That sounds wonderful said Cecil”

“Concurred” said Blake grinning

“And while we’re here why not have a cup of tea?”

“why not indeed” they chorused - after all who would refuse a cup of tea from such a nice lady?

Well I know someone who might but since he’s now part of someone who would never do so - I think we can leave him out!

Thank you so much for reading if you’ve made it this far

I very much hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments about grammar and spelling and punctuation would be very very welcome - I would much rather know if I’ve made a stupid mistake than not know!

[gunsandspaceships]

MCU Timeline: Iron Man 2. Part 1

Iron Man (2008) Timeline

The Incredible Hulk (2008) Timeline

This timeline is based on dates from the movie and not on Fury's Big Week (see the reason here).

Here's the classification of date consistency in the MCU Phase 1 (within the movies):

IM1, Thor, CA:TFA and The Avengers - good. Almost no issues.

The Incredible Hulk - some issues and a few barely visible wrong dates.

IM2 - absolute mess.

Let's start by finding out the month and year of the main events of the movie.

Month: May. What evidence we have: 1) one of the events is Tony's birthday, May 29; 2) The Monaco Grand Prix always takes place in May. The Historique races (which we see in the movie) take place before the main Grand Prix - in early May; 3) one of the screens in Tony's lab says it's May; 4) the weather and people's clothing also correspond to May.

Year: 2010. This is where things get really confusing. Because in the movie there are at least 3 versions of what year the events take place: 1) version of written sources (documents, computer screens) that consistently point to 2010; 2) Pepper Potts' version (IM1 took place "last year", which was February-May 2008, so IM2, she says, is May 2009); 3) Justin Hammer's version, who is absolutely sure that Tony became Iron Man only 6 months ago, so according to him it is November-December 2008, which contradicts everything else. Since most sources, as well as logic, point to 2010, this is the most likely version.

Now let's move on to the timeline.

The first f*ck up in the movie (chronologically): Anton Vanko's date of birth is mentioned once, and it is February 15, 1943. This is literally impossible. According to the same screen, in the early 1950s, Anton was already 20-30 years old and was a scientist at the Electrotechnical Institute in the USSR. More realistic year would be ~1925.

Early 1950s - Anton Vanko works on nuclear energy in the USSR.

October 1963 - Vanko defects from the USSR and seeks asylum in the United States.

Here we have the second f*ck up in props - the newspaper says 1966, but JARVIS said it's 1963, which is also confirmed by the date on Tony's screen. JARVIS's version is more realistic, so we'll go with that. And come on, Marvel. Citizenship right away? Why not the presidency?

June 26, 1967 - Anton is found guilty of espionage and deported.

August 2 or February 15, 1969 - Ivan Vanko is born.

Ivan's prison tattoo on his fingers is his birth year. There are several references to Ivan's birth date in the movie, and they are all different. So we'll use his tattoo, as it's a more reliable source. About the month and day - we have two options. The JARVIS search results give us 15.02, but as you may have noticed, this is the same day as Anton's birthday in the same search results. So I doubt that they were both born on the same day of the same month. The prop guys just put the same numbers in and forgot about it. Good f*cking job. Another possibility is the date on Vanko's fake passport - August 2. Since the document is fake, I have no idea if any of the dates on it are real. And it's unlikely that anyone would need his DOB anyway. Do we have any Ivan fans here?

~1970 - Anton Vanko is sent to Siberia for 20 years.

May 29, 1970 - Anthony Edward Stark is born 🎉

September 15, 1973 - Howard films the Intro to Stark Expo 1974 and the message for Tony.

1974 - the last Stark Expo until 2010.

~1990 - Anton is released and returns to Moscow.

December 2, 1993 - Ivan is sentenced to 15 years in prison for selling weapons-grade plutonium to Pakistan.

Late 1990s (before 2000) - Virginia Potts becomes Pepper, and Tony's PA.

May 25, 2008 - "I am Iron Man" press conference.

August 2008 - an article about Tony's arc reactor in Scientific American.

Note: There is a real issue of this magazine from August 2008 with the same articles except for the article on the arc reactor.

December 2008:

After serving 15 years, Ivan is released from prison.

Anton Vanko dies.

If anyone doubts that it's May in the screenshot, you're right. This is how winter looks like, not May. Yes, even in Russia, Marvel.

On TV they say Tony is giving the "I am Iron Man" press conference "Now", but this is impossible: 1) As we have established, it was on May 25, not in winter. 2) In Moscow it would be night (remember time zones). But we were clearly shown that it was daytime. 3) This is a live broadcast for CNN, not for Russian news. 4) It can't even be "Live" and "Breaking News" at the same time because he hasn't even said the words yet! Come on, Marvel. Logic was lost during the production of this movie.

So, based on the notes above, I conclude the following: 1) The news is not new. It is a recording. 2) The first scene takes place in December 2008.

A few days later - Ivan begins work on his arc reactor.

Here's the third f*ck up:

On the Forbes cover, which we already saw in IM1, the date "January 1990" appeared, which was not there before. But this is not the main issue. The main one is that Howard was still alive in 1990 and ran his company himself. So Tony could not "take reign at 21" at that time. He wasn't even 21 yet, and he couldn't be. Marvel shouldn't have changed the cover in the first place. January also contradicts other sources that show Stane was interim CEO for several months, not just one.

December 2008 - Tony is named "Time's Person of the Year".

Note: This is an edited cover of the actual "Time's Person of the Year 2008".

December 2008 - December 2009 - Vanko works on his reactor.

May 2008 - May 2010:

All the following events:

Some details of the events from the newspapers on Vanko's wall:

Tony saves a mother of three from a fire.

January 2009 - Tony saves the crew of a Russian submarine ("miracle submarine").

Pepper gives an interview about Tony, the suit and her figure (very important).

August 5, 2009 - Hammer tests his suit in Reno, Nevada.

September 13, 2009 - Saudi Arabia tests a prototype of its suit.

Early April (snow) 2010 - Vanko receives a fake passport and a ticket to the Monaco Grand Prix.

Shortly before May 2010 - Natasha is "hired" by Stark Industries.

December 2009 - May 2010 - Vanko works on his exoskeleton and whips.

Here we come to the infamous "6 months later" problem. And the main question: 6 months from what? a) "I am Iron Man" in IM1? b) Anton's death in December 2008 or c) The day Ivan finished working on his reactor?

As we have already established, it cannot be 6 months from IM1 (May 2008), as it contradicts literally everything. The date of Hammer's test also shows that it can't be 6 months from IM1 because there was already more than 6 months between the press conference and the test. So Justin should do some fact checking before his speech next time.

6 months since Anton's death (December 2008) would fit better into the timeline. It would also match the month of Tony's birthday and Pepper's version of what year IM2 takes place:

But it's still the wrong year. All other sources give us 2010, not 2009.

And finally, the best version is 6 months from the day Ivan finished his reactor. We already know that IM2 is mostly set in May 2010, so we just count back 6 months and get December 2009. It took Ivan a whole year to build what Tony was able to build in a few days in a cave and with a serious medical condition.

Part 2

[demonicc0024tt]

I’m tweaking so have this flippy age theory

So being in the htf fandom I’ve noticed that lots of people portray Flippy as this traumatized war vet in his early 20’s and it bugs me out because there’s no way this man is 20 by the time he’s “discharged” from the war. Although it was never confirmed by any means that he’s actually discharged, he may be on some leave or the war just ended. But what war did he even go to? Well it’s only mentioned he went to W.A.R wich stands for Weaponized Animal Regiment, but seeing that Fliqpy’s booby traps are heavily inspired by the viet cong many say it may be possible that he also went to the Vietnam war (i also thought that would be the most rational explanation) which would make sense considering the insane trauma he has but also make him 60 even if he was drafted at the end of it, so i think he was just really interested in it but never actually got to fight there since it ended. He could have taken part in the Persian Gulf War but i doubt that. All we know is that Flippy went to the W.A.R so let’s stick to that.

What age did he go to the war then?

There is a possibility that if he was interested in joining the military from a young age and enlisted by himself then he may have been 18 at the beginning , though if that wouldn’t be the case and he was drafted instead, he would be around 20-25 years old. So let’s go with 20.

In the W.A.R journal episode he’s said to be a private, which is considered the lowest military rank (E-1) , but seeing the patch on his shoulder that could be inspired (definitely is) by the military rank insignia he could be a E-2 second class private.

The mission Flippy, Mouse Ka-Boom and Sneaky are on where they have to confront a literal General, could be seen as a very serious and important mission that would take at least 4 years of amazing performance and service for a literal second class private to go on without any forces except for two other privates, which i think makes sense because Flippy killed a literal General and that on it’s own could get him promoted to a sergeant (E-5). While promotions from E1 to E4 are mostly gained by time, E5 and higher are mostly performance and binding time earned. For a E2 to get to E5 it would take a great amount of time. To get to E3 could take at least 10 months and to E5? That could even be three to six years based on performance or even more!

So let’s say that Flippy was a great soldier for at least four years, got assigned to a serious mission, completed it alone because his teammates died, and that got him promoted to a Sergant at about 24/25 years old.

Although there is no real number of years he was at war it would make sense for it to be at least ten years if we look back at how long he had to be a private to be promoted,and how long he could fight as a sergeant. If we went down that route then he was like 30 when he left.

His first appearance is the hide and seek episode that came out in the year 2000. If we used the year when the episode came out as the year that Flippy left the military then that would make him about 31. Why 31 and not 30? Because imagine you leave a war you’ve been fighting for ten years. You don’t just immediately move somewhere new and make so many friends that you feel comfortable playing hide and seek knowing about your ptsd problem in the span of like 11 months (not saying that’s impossible but just not likely).

The episode Party Animal where we see flaky and others prepare a party for his birthday aired October 2nd 2006 that means,of course that he turned 37 that day.

The last episode featuring Flippy was In Over Your Hedge that got released (for free) December 22 2018 and that would make him 49!

In conclusion Flippy throughout the whole series is in his early 30’s to late 40’s.

Im sorry in advance if some of this info is not right, i tried doing as much research as i could! If something is wrong pls say so i can correct myself!!! Also sorry if the grammar is wrong but English is not my first language😢

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hello i saw you were taking requests maybe? could you do one with canon levi where him and fem!reader get into a fight and she thinks hes going to leave her and he has to comfort her but in his own levi way of comforting because hes awkward

"because he's awkward" LMAO

i actually had a flare-up the other day and ran into this exact situation with my partner so you bet i channeled all my irl angst into this

Just Go | Levi Hurt/Comfort Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 2.8k ✧ notes ➼ only lightly proofread because i'm sleep deprived ✧ warnings: some mentions of maladaptive coping mechanisms

“Give me a break already,” Levi said with an irritated groan. “I’m sick of this shit.”

Although you had essentially written an entire paper in your head to prove your point, that had gone flying out the window after he spoke. 

I’m sick of this shit.

At that point, you could no longer recall what it was that you two were arguing over. Your mind fixated on that one phrase he had just muttered at you. It had taken you all of your energy to even gather the courage to bring it up and he dismissed it within minutes, and ended the conversation saying that he was sick of it, sick of you.

Your mind and body froze. Your skin paled as your hands grew cold and clammy. You felt your heart drop at the realization of what this meant. This was his way of saying that it was over. It might not have solidified yet, but you knew that it was coming.

You immediately looked down to the ground and took a step back. Any energy you had gathered to continue this conversation immediately dissipated. 

“Okay,” you whispered with a small nod as you continued to step backwards.

You weren’t able to see a concerned look enter Levi’s eyes as he watched you immediately withdraw. He had expected a prolonged and irritating conversation. He had been expecting it for weeks, he just didn’t expect it to be brought up now—but it did get brought up and he didn’t expect you to back down so quickly. He stared at you for a few seconds, wondering what was going on in your head. Were you thinking of what to say? Did you change your mind?

You heard his silence as you continued to withdraw. Using this as confirmation of your fears, you immediately turned around and walked out the door onto the balcony of your shared apartment.

You waited a few seconds outside, holding agonizingly still as you waited for Levi to come follow—but he didn’t. 

You buried your face in your hands, gripping at your hair as memories of your life together with Levi ran through your head. You remembered him literally picking you up off of the streets and rescuing you from the thugs you were running from in the Underground. You remembered him going out of the way, before and after every expedition, to ensure that you were safe and that you knew that he was safe. You remembered all of his little acts of service to take care of you when you were feeling down or feeling sick. 

You remembered every little thing that would disappear the minute he finally decided to leave you.

Over the next few days, your mind was murky. Although you were still able to get up and about and seem somewhat functional, that wasn’t how you felt. You felt as if the world was blurred around you and that you were watching yourself move as if you were in a vivid dream that you had no control over. The only thing that you could hear clearly was that little voice in your own head that kept telling you that Levi was preparing to leave.

You couldn’t stand to be around him. That was the one thing that kept you from hiding in bed and ignoring the world. The more you were in the house, the more you had to see him. The more you had to see him, the more it was going to hurt when he finally left. You were waiting for that other shoe to drop and you wanted to be as emotionally removed as you could when it happened.

However, completely avoiding him was impossible. After all, you did share an apartment.

Thus, the both of you found yourselves at the dinner table without saying a word. This had become a norm over the past few days. The unending silence that seemed to scream into your ears had become something you were expecting. On normal days, that silence didn’t bother you. Both you and Levi were content in each other’s presence on stressful days as you shared a meal together and steal whatever little time you had to be able to actually spend time with each other—but this was not that.

You were ripped out of your thoughts as you heard a sigh.

“You haven’t been eating,” Levi spoke up, watching as you poked at the now cold vegetables on your plate.

You hadn’t noticed it yourself, but your boyfriend certainly did. He had noticed that you never got up early in time for breakfast anymore and that when you did sit down to eat, it took you 30 minutes to eat 2-3 bites. It was very likely that you hadn’t even had a full meal since your fight.

“_____,” he spoke again, agitation entering his voice.

You continued to poke at your vegetables with zero intention of consuming them.

Levi sighed as he pushed his own plate to the side.

“What the hell is going on with you? You’ve been in and out all week, barely saying a word to me.”

Your presence when he arrived home, your smile when he saw you for the first time after getting home, and your soothing voice that welcomed him home were just a few of the gestures that he had come to love about you. It was a comforting constant in his life that he cherished. It was a source of comfort that was currently nowhere to be found. 

“If you’re gonna go, just go,” you said quietly without looking up at him.

“Hah?” he muttered out, making a confused expression at you. He wasn’t sure if he hadn’t heard you correctly or what it was that you were referring to.

“Stop beating around the bush already,” you said with your voice slowly becoming more audible. “It’s agonizing. If you’re going to go, just go.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he finally responded.

Your fist was clenched around the fork you had been using and you felt yourself begin to tremble. You weren’t sure if it was due to anger, anxiety, or a mix of both.

“Isn’t that why you’ve been out of the house so much recently? Why you’ve been on a rigid cycle of sleep, eat, work? Why I b-barely see you-”

You stopped talking once you noticed your own voice start to break. You felt heat rise to your face as tears began to gather at the corners of your eyes. You finally looked up at him, scowling when you saw him simply staring at you.

“You said yourself that you’re sick of this—sick of me,” you said as you dropped your fork and gripped at the table in frustration. “So quit beating around the bush already. If you’re going to leave, then leave.”

Levi’s lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Out of all of the reasons he had hypothesized over why you were acting the way you were, this was not one of them. He quickly shut his mouth again.

While he was annoyed that these thoughts were going through your mind, he could understand why they were there. Like him, you haven’t exactly had the best of luck in keeping people around you. Everyone either died, left, or disappeared. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t plagued with those same thoughts. That was why, no matter how annoyed he was at this situation, he couldn’t find himself to be mad at you for it. He felt his heart grow heavy, knowing that his own avoidant behavior over the past few days contributed to those chaotic thoughts brewing in your mind. He knew that something was wrong from the minute that you withdrew from the argument, and cursed at himself silently for not even approaching you or asking what was wrong until now.

At this point, you had looked away again. He felt his own blood run cold as he saw your trembling. Although you had averted your eyes, he knew that there were tears building up behind them. 

He hated when you cried.

It wasn’t because he thought it was annoying or stupid or any of that. He hated it because he would blame himself for not being able to stop it. He especially hated it when he was the one that caused it. He was supposed to be a source of strength, support, and comfort to you, so the fact that he made you cry made him feel like a failure in every regard.

You continued to look down, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were now threatening to fall. You kept on repeating to yourself that you wanted more than anything for him to get up and walk out the door so you don’t have to see him anymore. You kept on saying that to yourself.

Yet, the thought of it was agonizing. The thought of him leaving and never coming back and you never being able to see him or embrace him again literally made you feel like you were carving your own heart out with a butterknife or that you were suffocating at the bottom of the ocean. The thought of him leaving was even more agonizing.

As you continued to imagine living on your own in a world that had taken everything from you, the tears finally fell and you took a sharp inhale that was interrupted as your crying destabilized your breathing. You covered your face in your hands, desperately trying to hide yourself, even though you knew it was futile.

You weren’t sure when he got up or when he started making his way to you or when he knelt down next to you so that you could be at eye contact, but you felt him gently place his hand on your thigh, providing a gentle squeeze to indicate that he was there.

“I’m not going to leave you, _____,” he whispered quietly.

You felt your lower lip quivering as your emotions built up in your chest. All the grief you had held for the past few days came bursting out as you shrunk down, shutting your eyes tightly.

He waited for a few seconds without moving or saying anything, simply waiting for you to let it out. He knew how agonizing it must have been for you to have held this in for the past week or so.

After your breathing had stabilized more, you peeked at him through your fingers. His gray eyes stared straight into yours. His normally expressionless facial features were softer as he glanced at you, his eyes more focused onto you compared to how he usually was. You were able to see the pain that he was holding upon knowing that he had hurt you and failed to recognize it.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week?” he asked quietly.

A small chuckle escaped from your lips. You removed your hands and wiped away the remaining tears that had gathered on your cheeks while you were holding your face.

“Haven’t you been avoiding me?”

You weren’t wrong, and he wasn’t either. The both of you had been more avoidant towards each other throughout the past week. You avoided him to try to dampen the devastation that you would feel when you thought he would leave. He avoided you, believing that you were still mad at him, and that you just needed space. Both of these factors added onto each other, enhancing the pain and grief harbored within the both of you.

He shot you a half-smile as he slowly stood up, grabbing at your hand to help you stand.

“Come,” he said, motioning towards the balcony. “Let’s get some air.”

~~~~~

The two of you leaned on the balcony, looking down at the now silent streets around you. While there were plenty of people, horses, and carriages moving around during the day, it was now dead silent after the sun had gone down.

Levi looked over towards you and saw that you carried a sad and defeated look on your face as you glanced down. He watched as you gently rubbed at your own eyes, which were swollen from your crying.

He placed his hand on your shoulder and gently turned you towards him so he could see you better.

“Is it something I said?”

Levi was genuinely astonished that you thought he would leave you. The thought never even crossed his mind, it was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d rather jump outside the walls without any blades or mobility gear than to even think about leaving you.

You continued to look down as you slightly shook your head.

“Hey,” he said, lifting your chin so that he could look into your eyes. “Talk to me.” 

He didn’t believe you. You had shaken your head to say no, but he knew that was a lie.

You looked into his eyes, placing your hand on his, gently squeezing to remind yourself that he was still there. You tried to think of how to even begin explaining why you felt the way that you felt, but only felt your heart rate and anxiety increasing. You were embarrassed over how you had gotten so activated by something that wasn’t even a problem. You immediately assumed it was over without even trying to check and see if that was the case.

He gave you a worried look as he saw you struggle to find a response.

“_____,” he said your name, trying his best to pull you out of your head.

“I…” you parted your lips to speak without any real idea of what you were trying to say. “I don’t even really remember. It was so blurry and quick and fast. I remember I was scared to talk to you about something and then my heart dropped once I said it.”

Levi never took his eyes off of you as you spoke, your speaking getting faster and faster as you continued to ramble. Every time he opened his own mouth to speak went unnoticed as you continued laying out every step of your thought pattern.

“And you just got more agitated and I never want to make you feel like you have to deal with me because I already know I’m a burden and then you said that you were sick of this and I thought that since I was the one that started the fight, that you were sick of me, and then-”

Before you could continue on for another 20 minutes over all of the thoughts that had built up in your head, you felt Levi pull you in and press his lips against yours, holding you close.

Your thoughts immediately went from richoting off of each other in rapid fire to absolutely nothing at all as soon as you felt him on you.

You returned the kiss, leaning into him, and he refused to let you go until he felt you finally relax into him.

He pulled away ever so slightly while holding you close to him.

“I’m sorry if I made it seem like I was going to leave,” he whispered to you. “You know I never think of you as a burden.”

He pulled you in, having your head rest on his shoulder as he wrapped his other arm around you. His hand found its way into your hair, providing you that small sense of comfort that you got every morning when he ran his hand through your hair before you were fully awake. 

You buried your face further into him, taking comfort in his presence. After avoiding him for around a week, you felt like you needed him on you now more than ever.

He spoke again, whispering right into your ear. His voice was barely audible. Even a gust of wind could’ve muffled it—but that’s what made him feel so close. It made you feel like you would never have to worry about losing him again as he kept his hold on you tight.

“I love you,” he whispered into your ear, “and that’s never going to change.”

He felt you grip at him tighter as you tried to pull him in even closer although you were already fully in his embrace.

He slightly pulled away so that he could see your eyes, shooting you a small smile when he sees that you’ve relaxed and calmed.

“No matter how much of a pain in the ass you can be sometimes,” he said with a smirk.

Before you could come up with your own clever response, he pulled you into another soft, gentle, intimate kiss, with his hand gently resting on the side of your face to keep you close to him and you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to get fully lost in his presence and embrace.

A/N: hope you liked! tysm for beginning to send requests in ♡

[percico-sea-of-darkness]

Imo Nico saying "You're not my type," and skipping away to see Will was Nico trying to preserve some of his pride/dignity.

I mean, his actions throughout PJO & HoO are literally love confessions. He chooses Percy, turning his back on Hades, and only goes back to Hades on Percy's request. Nico sends his friend to help Percy in hell (literally more than anyone else did to help Percy). He sticks with the Argo II crew despite literally all of them besides Hazel being extremely rude/unsettled by him for Percy.

So it's like. Nico has laid his heart bare for Percy? But Percy is in a relationship with someone else and Nico doesn't really know what Percy thinks about him - other than being convinced that Percy doesn't love him. So he's pulling himself together and trying to show that no, he's not hung up on Percy. He's not pining. He's not crying over the one sided love, and feelings of rejection. And by playing his feelings as less serious than they actually are, he's enabling himself to continue to have a friendship with Percy - since by playing off his affections as a crush rather than painfully in love - it's less awkward that Percy don't return his feelings. So they can move on and resume their friendship. That's imo anyway. It was self preservation. @hermesmyplatonicbeloved

Oh, totally!

Sorry for responding until now, but I haven't been able to be very active on my networks lately :)

But bringing up this topic, if I had been in Nico's position, I think I would have done something very similar, if not the same. Imagine this situation: Having to be Perc#beth's spectator. That not only did they practically all their missions together, but important gods, such as Aphrodite and practically the ENTIRE fucking camp, did everything possible for Perc#beth to finally come together. And seeing firsthand how Percy practically gave his all to the people he cared about (Nico never really realized how important he was to Percy, since haha ​​I think it's obvious to anyone in love and hurt), and Annabeth being territorial with Percy just gave Nico the idea that the two of them just can't be, it doesn't work, it's impossible. His low self-esteem in conjunction with the pain of losing his loved ones, his loneliness and all the pain he had to go through to protect Percy was enough for him to not only start wanting to lie to himself and others in order to get some relief to his pain. And besides, he was so used to people pushing him away, that the first guy who practically forces him to be by his side is obviously the person Nico is going to cling to, to say "I'm getting over it" when in reality he's not.

So. Nico gave too much, and wanting to feel better about everything he had done, he "he confess no confess." I'm a witness that not telling your feelings to a person can cause you a lot of problems, since there was never really closure. Your mind is always thinking about 'what if', even if you don't want it to.

So the best way for Nico, and I think for any sane person in his situation, to not generate even more pain than one already has and not put oneself in a compromising situation is to confess not confess: Totally minimize your feelings, saying that they are from the past and something temporary (giving the other person to understand that you became interested but you don't have any problem now, that the unilateral nature of the situation doesn't bother you at all.)(HAHAHA its funny because it actually does). And even more so being in Nico's situation, that practically seconds before confessing, Percy boasted about his future with Annabeth. That was the final blow. It's a total NO to Nico, and like a normal person, he saved what little dignity he had left (you know, the whole situation with Cupid and what follows) and left with the only person who was behind him (because obviously Nico would be tired of just chasing, it's normal to want to be chased, but that's not a confirmation of romantic feelings, it's just a need, and more of a lonely and 'needed of love' person). So, I totally agree.

[thatlovinfeelin]

Half a Heart - One - Jake Hangman Seresin

Blaire Montgomery moved away from all she ever knew at eighteen to conceal a secret. Now nearly fourteen years later, her secret is finally out of the bag when her and her thirteen year old daughter, Lucy, quite literally run into Jake Seresin, young Lucy's father. All three lives are forever changed due to one fateful encounter, and two hearts are once again made whole.

Blaire Montgomery walked along the street, hand in hand with her daughter, laughing at a joke that the young teenager just told. Together, they made their way across the board walk of Virginia Beach, towards their intended lunch destination. 

“Mama, just once, you really should try it.”

“Nope, not going to happen Lulu.”

The younger girl, Lucy or Lulu, just frowned, but continued walking alongside her mother. They were best friends, maybe something stronger than that. Blaire was just a child herself, not even nineteen when she had Lucy. They grew up together, making their bond stronger than anyone could ever really understand. 

Lucy didn’t know who her father was, and probably never would. Blaire was counting on never seeing the man again. Which seemed funny, considering they lived in a military dominated area. But she never imagined that the man would be stationed here. 

She was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant, just after graduation. There was no way she could tell the father, not when he was planning on being so much more than just the small town boy he was. She didn’t want to hold him back, she couldn’t be the reason he never saw his dreams come true. So she lied to him and broke up with him. Blaire even went as far as moving shortly after, so he would never know. 

Her own family didn’t know who fathered her beautiful little girl, though she was sure they had their ideas. She would never confirm or deny them, only changing the subject whenever they asked. It helped that she hadn’t heard from him in nearly fourteen years too.

She grew up, she moved on. Going on a few casual dates here and there, but never anything serious. It was hard to be serious with someone when she had Lulu to look after. Even now that she was old enough to be left home alone and take care of herself, it was hard. Blaire couldn’t really think about bringing any man home who wasn’t the man she gave her heart to all of those years ago. 

Because the truth was, she might have broken up with him, but she never really got her whole heart back. 

“I’m staaaaarrrrvinnnggg,” Lulu said, dramatically dragging out the word. 

“Which is why we’re going to get lunch before we keep shopping,” Blaire reminded her daughter, “C’mon, just a few more minutes.”

“I’m going to die before we get there,” Lulu whined, “Die of starvation. Wither away to nothing right in front of you.”

“God, how did you get so dramatic?” Blaire questioned, “I swear I was never this bad when I was your age.”

They rounded the corner, restaurant now in sight and Lulu let out a loud sigh and tugged her mother along faster. They were seated almost instantly, making Lucy extremely happy. They ordered appetizers and fell into a comfortable conversation about school. 

Lucy was in middle school now, which seemed almost impossible to Blaire. It was hard for her to realize that her daughter was growing into a fine young woman and was almost an adult of sorts. 

“So Liam Mackey tried to ask me out yesterday,” Lulu said, taking a bite of a mozzarella stick. 

Blaire had to keep herself from choking on her water, “Oh really? What did you say?”

She was hoping her daughter said no. She wasn’t ready to deal with dating yet. Middle school drama was one thing, but boyfriends and heartbreaks were something else entirely and Blaire might just have a heart attack if she had to navigate that part of parenting right now. 

“I told him no, obviously,” Lulu rolled her eyes, “He asked out Marlee Parks two days ago, I’m not some sloppy second choice.”

Letting out a deep breath, Blaire reached for her water again and took a large gulp, “Well…good for you for knowing your worth.”

“Liar. You’re thrilled you don’t have to deal with me having a boyfriend yet,” Lucy teased. 

“You’re right,” She sighed, “So no dating till you’re thirty, okay?”

“What about you? You’re like thirty and you aren’t going on dates.”

“Okay don’t make me ground you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Lucy countered, sticking out her tongue.

Blaire sighed again, knowing her daughter was right. She wouldn’t ground her. Blaire wasn’t one to ground or really punish her daughter at all. Not to say that she didn’t when she had to. But she hated every minute of it. 

When their food came, Lucy wasted no time digging in and eating every bite she could. Blaire almost had to laugh. Her daughter loved food, so much it was almost comical in fact. She was like her father in that regard, the man could eat like no one else. No one except maybe his daughter. 

“We’re still going shopping, right?” She questioned. 

“Yes, we’ll go shopping after lunch,” Blaire laughed.

“Good,” Lulu smiled before taking another bite. 

“Slow down before you choke, honey.”

Lulu made a face and continued to wolf down her food. Blaire couldn’t do anything but laugh at her little girl. Her sweet daughter. It was hard for her to come to terms with the fact that soon enough she would start really asking questions about her father. 

So far she’d been able to dodge any question Lucy asked about him. Somehow, it had been easy to lie to her. But Blaire knew that time would soon be over, and she would have to tell her daughter the truth sooner or later. Which meant finding him and telling him the truth too. 

They both deserved to know. Blaire knew that. But the thought of them knowing made her chest hurt. She couldn’t imagine the look on his face when he found out, she didn’t want to imagine it really. But she knew that time was running out. 

“C’mon kiddo,” Blaire said, putting money down on the table, “Let’s get going.”

They were hand in hand again on their way out, when Blaire ran into a strong body. She stumbled back. The man in front of her reached out, catching her arms to steady her for a moment. 

“Mom, you okay?” Lucy grabbed ahold of her mom too. 

“I’m fine honey,” Blaire replied, giving her daughter a small smile. 

“Blaire?” The man questioned, eyes widening. 

His head spun, the little girl, who wasn’t so little, called her mom. Which meant if this was Blaire, she had a daughter. A teenager by the look of it. He swallowed hard. He knew those eyes, because they were his own. 

“Holy shit.”

“Mom?” Lucy questioned before looking between her mom and the man. 

She saw it then, the way her eyes matched his. How they had the same cock to their head. Lucy was a smart girl, maybe too smart for her own good. She could see it in the way her mother looked between her and the man. In the way her mom held onto her hand even tighter. Lucy couldn’t help it, she was staring into the eyes of her father, and it seemed like he didn’t quite know it himself. 

“Holy fuckin shit,” Lucy mumbled. 

“Lucielle Grace!” Blaire hissed. 

But then it was his turn, staring into the face of the girl who looked just like him, and the woman he loved more than life itself, “Holy shit.”

That made three. Mother, Father, and daughter, all stunned to be in one another’s presence at long last.

In a panic, the second she heard the man speak her name, sounding so broken and shocked, she grabbed her daughter and pulled her out of the restaurant, not stopping to look back.

He followed them of course, forgetting the lunch date he had. He would apologize to his old friend later. This was more important, this was Blaire. His Blaire. The one girl he could never get out of his head. The one that he still carried a photo of whenever he flew. Because she was his, even if she broke his heart almost fourteen years ago.

"Blaire!" He called, trying to catch up with her.

She slowed when she saw her car come into view. He would catch them there and then there would be no more running away. She licked her lips and stopped, grabbing her daughter's other hand.

"I need you to go wait in the car," She told Lulu, not looking away from her green eyes.

"Mom who is that guy?" Lucy was worried that he was some creep, here to try to hurt her mom.

Maybe he was one of the Tinder dates gone wrong. The ones that Blaire always seemed to be too quiet after she came home from them. Or maybe he was one of the good dates that Blaire blew off because of Lucy, because she was too scared to bring anyone else into their lives.

"Please Lu, go wait in the car," Blaire begged, "It's okay, I promise."

The man was getting closer, almost reaching them when Lucy finally agreed and made her way to the older 4runner parked in a far space under a tree.

Blaire only had a moment before he was on her, grabbing her shoulder to gently turn her around. She didn't force herself to look up at him, knowing she wouldn't be able to handle the look in his eyes when she did.

He was always much smarter than he liked to let on, he had to have put the pieces together. He had to know that he was just staring into the face of his daughter.

God...his daughter. Even thinking it made Blaire shiver. This was never supposed to happen. That's why she moved to Virginia, far enough away from Annapolis or Texas.

"It's you," He breathed out, holding her at arm's length, "God, Blaire, it's really you."

She keeps her eyes tightly closed, too afraid to open them. She want to look at him though, she's aching to see the man he's become. How much he's changed from the boy she once knew. But she still can't bring herself. She can't even speak.

"Say something, please," he begs her, bending down to try to catch her eye.

"Jake," She breathes out, almost like a sigh. It cuts him to the bone to hear her say his name again.

"Who was the girl?" He asks, even though he somehow already knows exactly who she was.

Her eyes open now, looking up to meet the same green eyes that her daughter has. His brows were furrowed in the exact same way, just like the way he was cocking his head to the side. They were so alike and yet they never officially met.

She swallowed the thick lump growing in her throat, "That was my daughter."

He breathes out, like he'd been kicked square in the gut, "She had my eyes."

That's all he could think to say. Because every time he blinked he kept seeing her looking up at him with the eyes that mirrored his own. The same way he had his mother's eyes, and she had her mother's eyes. There was no denying there was some semblance between the two.

"Jake-"

"Blaire," he said urgently, "She had my eyes."

"I don't-"

"How old is she?" He asks, taking a step forward.

"Thirteen," Blaire nearly winces as she says it.

He does the math in his head. It'd been nearly fourteen years since they last saw one another. She broke up with him out of the blue and moved away weeks later, never to be heard from by any of the Seresins again. Now here she is with a thirteen year old who looked just like her, aside from small little details. Like how she had freckles dotting her nose, just like Jake and his sister's had when they were younger.

"Is she mine?" He asks her, almost afraid of the answer.

"Jake, please," She begs so quietly.

"Blaire, is she mine?" He asks again.

She licks her dry lips and tried to gather the courage. This was never meant to happen. She was never supposed to see him again, and he was never supposed to know about having a child. Jake Seresin was supposed to go about his life without her tying him down with a little girl. But it seemed like fate had other ideas

"Yes."

[autisticlancemcclain]

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-- -- --

There is, honest to God, a coathanger butler and a duster French maid.

“Well, that confirms it,” Lance says, clapping his hands together. “I fell off my horse on the way here and I’ve gone insane.”

“I think you’re just smart, kiddo,” Shiro says, amused. “Perceptive.” He has yet to stop his tour, hopping along rather quickly as Lance follows. 

Lance opens his mouth to deny that particular claim – Lance is many things and smart is sure as shit not one of them – but there’s a bellowing shout that interrupts him before he can. 

“Ta-kashi!”

Shiro-the-candelabra startles, then goes pale, which is a hilarious thing to witness in a face of wax. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” he curses. He makes an effort to hop behind a random sidetable placed against one of the farther walls of the massive corridor, but he’s not nearly fast enough. Rapid, angry clanking sounds precede the appearance of an ornately carved grandfather clock, the face – literally and figuratively, man this castle is fucking weird – twisted in a heavy scowl. 

“Takashi,” the clock hisses again. “What part of ‘united front' is hard for you to understand?”

Caught completely red-handed, Shiro straightens himself up and attempts to look dignified. “You were busy with Keith! What was I supposed to do, let this one wander around? I was –”

“You were supposed to wait for me, Takashi! Last time –”

It would probably be prudent for Lance to continue listening, as any information he learns is for the better. But as soon as Shiro says Keith’s name, Lance’s ears check out, the world in front of him goes blurry, and he starts to feel like he’s deep underwater. 

It hits him, all at once and intensely, that this is really happening. He is, sometime in the frighteningly near future, going to meet his future husband. His future husband who is known across the country to be one of the most vile men in temper ever to exist, who is impossible to love. His future husband who has money, money that Lance can send back to his family that can never manage to get food on the table for every mouth on every day of the week. The future husband who Lance cannot leave, unlike the people before him, because if he does then the family farm will sell and everyone will be homeless and it will lie on his shoulders. 

If he fails, his family will never look at him again, the shame will be so strong. The kids – they’ll be uprooted if they have to sell the farm and move away. He can’t do that to them. And yes, his family’s betrayal still aches like a gaping wound in his chest (they didn’t want to keep him Mamà didn’t want to keep him only three wanted to keep him and he doesn’t know who they sent him away the town sent him away his family sent him away everyone he’s ever known decided they were better off without him), but he doesn’t – he can’t let their saving grace slip between his fingers. If he fails then his greatest fears are confirmed – he is the failure that he’s always known he is.

But If he succeeds, he will be locked for life in an enchanted castle that feels as if it doubles as a tomb. 

Suddenly Lance is sick to his stomach. 

“–ance? Lance? You okay, kiddo?”

Lance shakes himself from his thoughts, eyes focusing on the concerned faces in front of him. He clears his throat, straightening his shoulders and plastering a smile on his face. 

He will not fail. He will not. It is the lesser of two evils, to succeed, so he must. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just remembered something, is all. I meant to look for something to feed my horse when I came in here, there’s no hay in the stable, but I forgot with all the –” he glances at the clock and candelabra, wondering how to phrase the clusterfuck that is now my life tripped me up, my bad delicately – “the… hubbub.”

Hubbub. 

Alrighty. That’s the word he’s going with. That’s fine. He’s totally cool with suddenly becoming a bitter senior citizen loudly complaining about the youths. All is well.

Despite his strangeness, the two people (??) in front of him visibly soften. 

“Sorry, dear,” the clock says. He clanks forward and extends one of his arms – shiny, carved gold decals of the sides of a grandfather clock – to shake. Lance does. “My name is Adam. I imagine you must be exhausted. Would you like to see your room?

That sounds excellent. Lance sags at the suggestion, shoulders slumping forward and sigh escaping his lungs without his position. His own room in the castle…what will that look like? He’s always shared a bed with someone, back home. And sometimes he is kicked and sometimes people snore and sometimes people squiggle around and hog blankets and talk in their sleep. Sometimes people even pick their toes, completely unconscious, and refuse to believe him when he complains about it in the morning. Such is the life of a large family in a small house. 

Lance will have a bed to his own, now. A room, even! It’s almost unfeasible. He’s expecting something huge; giant windows making up a whole wall at least to let the sun it, impossibly high ceilings, a bed as big as his house once was, with a canopy over the sides of it. As plush as goose down and soft as Kaltenecker’s – his favourite of their family’s cows – fur. Cream walls, maybe, prime for him to paint. 

Paint! He’s sure he’ll have paint here. The richest of colours, even, and paintbrushes he doesn’t have to make from kinky horse hair. And he’s sure he’ll have time, here, outside of whatever chores he’s expected to do, to ride Blue around the grounds. Maybe, for once in his life, he can enjoy his day outside of fleeting moments with the animals, or Veronica, or the twins. Maybe there will be more time outside of fleeting minutes when he watches the sun rise. Maybe he will have freedom here, to explore what he likes, and in luxury, no less. 

Wait. 

His brow furrows. Freedom…he won’t be free. He may be surrounded by more opulence than he ever expected to see in three lifetimes, but freedom is still a luxury he can’t afford.

“What about Ke –” he stumbles over the name – “the Prince?”

Shiro and Adam exchange the least subtle look Lance has ever seen on a human, let alone a grandfather clock and a candelabra. It would be funny if it weren’t so troubling. 

“What about him?” Shiro says carefully. 

Lance blinks at him. “Is his royal highness too busy to meet the guy he’s literally about to marry, or…?”

“We just figured you would prefer to settle yourself, first.” Adam says it quickly, practiced, obvious; confirming Lance’s suspicions. 

There is something afoot. 

“I’m pretty settled, actually. All good in the hood. Checked off most of the list, tick tick tick. I just need to meet Prince Temper-tantrum.”

Both royal attendants laugh nervously. 

“Ah, we’ll get there,” Shiro assures. He hops forward, pointing his candle to the hallway, indicating that Lance should follow him. “We have time, no? It’s late. Dinner will be ready soon. No need.”

He and Adam are very persistent, all but shoving Lance out of the front entrance and to a massive staircase. One of them must have sent the word of Lance’s arrival, because one of the branched-off hallways of the staircase – a wing? Is that what it’s called? Why must rich people label stupid things – is illuminated, clearing the path Lance is meant to take to his new room. The other is as dark as the rest of the castle, cold and isolating, reeking of angst and cowardice and a smidge of superiority, too, because reputation or not, what kind of jackass doesn’t at least introduce themselves to their future husband?

Suddenly, it all kind of boils over. Lance roots himself in the middle of some grand marble hallway and, ignoring Shiro and Adam’s frantic pleading, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts: “Hey, Prince of Darkness! Is it too beneath you to say hello to your future husband, you beastly man?”

His voice echoes throughout the castle, shout bouncing off the carved stone walls and getting louder, somehow. Lance stands, glaring at the dark hallway, fists clenched at his sides, fury still lighting up his veins. But then a minute passes, and another, without so much as a peep of movement, and rage starts to trickle out of his body in favour of something like regret. 

He has one job, here. He is to make nice and play the silent husband so he can get funds back to his family, and no one goes hungry. He is supposed to avoid Prince Keith at any and all possible moments, keeping his head down and living his life as separately and as well as he can given the circumstances. And Adam and Shiro were perfectly happy to let him do so, too, guiding him to his room before he even had to breathe in Prince Keith’s direction. 

Him and his big fucking mouth. Clearly, there is more than one person in this castle with a temper. 

He turns to the candle and the clock. “Sorry,” he mutters, averting his eyes. Hopefully they don’t call this whole thing off. He doesn’t think they will – from what Shiro implied, they seem kind of desperate – but still. He shouldn’t push his luck. 

When Shiro and Adam don’t respond, he looks up, expecting to find them disappointed, but instead finding them not looking at him at all. He frowns, taking in the way their faces have dropped, the way they’ve both gone pale. As pale as bloodless things can be, anyway. He follows their line of sight, shifting his body to face the farthest end of the dark corridor, and squints, trying to make out what they’re so white about. It takes him a moment to pick it out, but eventually he sees it, almost glowing in the darkness – a pair of large, yellow eyes. And…

Teeth?

Lance blinks. He rubs his eyes. He looks again. 

Where the mouth would be, under the eyes, are massive, fang-like teeth, glowing white in the dark shadows. They are not human. They are not even animal. Lance is not sure what they resemble, aside from monstrous. A chill runs down his spine. 

Slowly, silently, the way a wolf might stalk towards prey it knows it has trapped, the shrouded face comes closer, slinking in the shadows. Lance follows it, head tilting higher and higher as he begins to realise how tall this face sits on a still-invisible body; how large this…thing, animal or man, truly is. Closer and closer it steps, until Lance can hear its breaths, until Lance can feel the heat from its body from where it stands, in the last stretch of the shadows. 

Lance swallows. 

“Who are you?” he asks. His voice is surprisingly steady, although his hands tremble. 

Finally, the figure steps out into the light. Dark purple fur is all Lance can see; covering the figure in thick, uneven swaths; large brow drawn tight over his slitted yellow eyes, mouth twisted in a snarl, fangs pushing out from his lips, clawed hands clenched in fists, talons clinking on the floor as he steps closer. Ornate clothing covers his body, heavy red cloak draped over his shoulders, materials Lance can recognise as sturdy and well-dyed and rich. 

The figure bends low, close to Lance’s face. “I am as you say, dear future husband.”

“You’re a – an actual –” Lance stammers.

Prince Keith growls, low in his throat. 

“A beast.”

———

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