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huitzilinthebudgie3 · 9 months

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Nuestra Flor

Summary : Marc had a shitty day…and suddenly there's a Baby waiting at his doorstep………

What's Marc gonna do ? What's a guy to do ?

Notes : I know it's kinda out of order but , my minds kinda like a squirrel and this is kinda theraputic for me. I hope you guys like it , because it's not really what is seen in Para ti Papa..this is just a bit into how i think Marc , Steven and possibly Jake would've handled raising a baby girl.

And i know it's not mentioned but , it is not as canon to the show as it should be…i caught it and Steven and Marc know about eachother….but Jake is still hidden.

So it'll be interesting …..

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Marc was having a shitty day , he was getting home from work. He had to make dinner before Layla got home …he had laundry…a room and bed to clean ….he sighed slumping down onto the couch down and someone was ringing the doorbell. He frowned and sighed walking over to said door as he opened it glancing around to find it empty. Before he was met with small coos…he blinked at the small bundle wrapped in a bright red soft blanket that was wrapped with a teal and gold quilt that supported the baby in the carrier. The baby was blowing raspberries and cooing to itself as it stared at him with a curious look before giggling and kicking it’s small plush toy out of the carrier.

Marc frowned, leaning down to read the note on the baby’s lap, as the baby babbled at him reaching out to touch him as he shrunk back and read the note that had a birth certificate. Social Security and all the paperwork that a baby its age would need to travel.

The note made Marc glance from the note back to the baby as he repeated the action twice before sighing deeply “There is no way , your mine” he murmured before flipping to the next page with a full blown paternity test confirming that he was indeed the father of said baby.

He sighed as he shut the door and getting ready to call the cops to take the baby as he threw the papers down. Well as soon as the door closed , the speed and sound of the old heavy door was enough to make a loud slamming noise that apparently startled the baby as it began wailing at the top of their lungs.

His already shitty day was much worse as it didn’t stop after 5 minutes..nor 10 mins or 15..and at 20 it did stop but , he was curious so sue him. He opened the door to find the baby sniffling as it whined for the small plush. The baby according to her birth certificate was around 4 months old , and according to the note…sent to him as a last resort. To let the little one to get to know her father, as her mother apparently (Shitty mother in Marc’s opinion) couldn’t keep her and knew she deserved better.

So he sighed grabbing his keys to at the very least leave her at the Fire Station. Give her a chance to live a normal life with whichever family member was written on the letter.

And he was mind made up , on the steps of the fire station when the baby babbled softly reaching out with big wide brown eyes touching his hand before giggling at his attention and fixed him with a toothy smile (as much as a 4 month old could manage).

Fate has a really crazy way of throwing you hurdles…for Marc it was Steven fronting as soon as the baby touched his hand. Emotionally he couldn’t handle the idea of his blood in the broken system possibly suffering just as much as he did to someone not related to her or even getting dealt a worse hand as he sighed mentally letting Steven take the reigns. So he decided to take her to a family member and ensure she was safe with said family member.

*2 weeks later*

It was interesting that the baby had appropriate traveling documents , as he stared at the baby . He’d purchased a set of clothes for it according to age and food, it didn’t like the car. He was currently in a diner eating breakfast as the baby cooed happily in his direction …so far other than being car-sick or teething it seemed , it wasn’t a very cry crybaby.

“Aww she’s cute , how old is she ?” Marc quirked a brow “4 months ?” he said as the waitress hummed “Oh i’ll just wait for your mama , pumpkin” she smiled booping her nose as the baby yawned stretching out to bat at her toys hanging from the handle “Oh just us , we’re heading to visit mama” he explained.

The waitress nodded, taking his order as he stared at the baby again “Don’t go getting attached , half-pint. You're going straight back to your mom or whoever's at this address” he said firmly as the baby giggled and kicked in excitement. She babbled in excitement but not yet having the articulation to quite form cohort sentences.

Steven was strongly against taking the baby back to her other family members or back to her own mother. He also called the baby by its name clearly looking to get attached in his opinion.

Marc sighed distracted by his ringing phone that had Layla’s contact…ringing and eventually stopping as another voicemail found it’s way into his contacts. In the grand age of 2008 , this baby couldn’t have chosen a worse time to make their presence known. He glared wondering exactly where this baby came from , Steven had no recollection of being with someone or even getting intimate…which Marc confirmed …as Steven ..had yet to get a girlfriend.

And Marc had only been with Layla for months…except the kidnapped…and drunken portion of the…past few months before Layla had saved him.

…..

… And suddenly this small being before him made sense…clearly he’d been with someone..he’d put that together a few days ago……………..

But how the hell was he going to explain that one ? To his wife , when it’d been his fault to begin with that he’d taken and more so that ….*sigh* he didn’t have time for this.

The small little being was cute..he had to give her credit for that “Flora..what kinda name is that ?” he murmured as the baby cooed at that reaching out for him “Flora…you look more like a y/n …but i’m not keeping ya..so thats that” he sighed drinking the black coffee as she blew a raspberry his way.

*2 months later*

He finally found the mother of the baby , he was currently trying to talk her into keeping the baby….but she ignored him and kept walking. Refusing to acknowledge him before he set the baby down “Hey i returned her ! I’m married , you psycho !” the woman quirked a brow…she was beautiful in way that was different to Marc.And it hurt Marc…for some unknown reason…well at the time…that he could see how torn she was as she squated down and caressed the baby's cheek. Cooing words of love and affection as the baby giggled , knowing the face and kindness of her mother as she reached out ..probably craving it from a lack of it in a month. He could tell that her soul was hurting as she glared at him “I can’t keep her…she’s your responsibility now.” she said firmly “You must swear that she must never been an avatar” she said softly as Marc snorted “I’m an avatar smart ass” the woman rolled her eyes “Pues si pendejo ! I’m talking about Khonshu…Khonshu has a soft spot. He has no relation to her outside of her being your daughter. My deity is related distantly …and unlike Khonshu…she will never be able to be free of mine. I do not give her to you lightly!” the woman yelled as the baby cried out at that as the woman sighed deeply.

Her anger melting away as she picked her up briefly rocking her gently muttering a small lullaby , Marc presumed as she walked over to him “I can’t have her live my life. And i can tell her soul and heart will be kind…she will be unable to deny her birthright” she sighed softly “And as much i want to keep her and see the person she grows into…i can’t…she can’t be tied to me . I fear he’ll be able to claim her” she said softly “So take , my sweet little flor. And grow her into the strong little rose bush that she will be” she said softly as tears dripped down her cheeks “Because i know my father will , and if you want he can help..but as the current avatar until i have a child or i die..i’ll be the avatar of my god” she sniffled setting the baby into his arms.

Marc hadn’t even realized that he was crying until the woman kissed their daughter cheek and left apologizing once again.

*2 months later*

Marc sighed as he sat in his and Steven’s shared apartment …he let Steven front over…and so far so good. He helped from time to time…and they had the baby and were going to try and get used to her and the idea of her before bringing Layla into this…because it was a pretty fucked situation no matter how you spun it…….

And the baby just barfed on herself…sigh…whelp enough journaling for today.

Talk to you soon , Baby Girl.

I hope you know I love you , and even if i’m not around…and if our start together wasn’t the greatest…i love you , bud…

….My Y/n

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End Notes :

Thank you again for reading , let me know if you like it.

Here's a link to my AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huitzilinthebudgie

And have a wonderful day or night :)

#moon knight x reader #my masterlist #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector #moonknight #khonshu x reader #o.c #khonshu #BABY!READER #BABY! OC NAME

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viktoriathewitch · 3 months

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͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙ witchy things I did that worked •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

(se você fala portugues BR, sinta-se livre para enviar DM ou pedir tradução de um post. boa parte vai estar em inglês, para facilitar minha vida e atingir mais pessoas.)

-`🕯 INTRO 🕯´-

Although I'm part of the spiritual community, I'm still quite skeptical whenever I see a spell or ritual, be it online or in books, asking myself if it'd work or not. Wondering if the source of such spells and witchy things were actually being honest. So! Today, I'll be sharing some witchy things (as not all of them were spells IMO) that actually worked! Still, I want to clarify that these things worked for >me< and I'll just be sharing my experience with the things I did that worked best. Feel free to also share yours in the comments!

-`🕯 WITCHY THINGS THAT WORKED 🕯´-

❅ herbal baths and magik baths in general, is some of my favorite things to do. Well, I actually love showers and they are such a scared moment to me, and whenever I need some deep energetical cleansing and boost, they always work for me. However, I want to point out that I wash my hair after finishing the herbal bath. So, I recommend doing this on wash hair days. My favorite combo is thick salt and rosemary. How I did it: ⁍ 1-step, prep: cleansed and energized the materials. ⁍ 2-step, make rosemary water: I didn't use a specific amount, but I'd say 4-5 cups of water and half a hand of rosemary is enough. Let it boil for about 5 minutes and then let it sit for 15 minutes with a cloth on top. ⁍ 3-step, thick salt scrubbing: the scrubbing should be done from your neck to your feet. Don't scrub too hard, you don't want to hurt yourself. Visualize negative energy or the power something/someone has over you leaving your body. DO NOT SCRUB YOUR GENITALIA WITH IT OKAY? ⁍ 4-step, rosemary shower: after the rosemary water has cooled down a bit, start to pour the water over you from your head. Now, the actual rosemary won't go with the water, so you can pick it up with your hands and scrub your body gently with it. DO NOT SCRUB OR WASH YOUR GENITALIA WITH THIS WATER. ⁍ 5-step, clean your bathroom: chances are you've made a mess! ❅ banishing candles is something that I did when I was on low energy but needed banishing ASAP. I also didn't have all the ingredients I wished for, but it worked with the ones I had! I made a total of 2 candles, and I placed one in the living room and the other in my bedroom. How I did it: ⁍ ingredients and tools: black candle, red candle, dried pieces of garlic, corn hair, thick salt, essential oil (I used lavender cause it was the only one I had lol), mortar and pestle, paper (to protect my table from the wax), candle holder (further explanation about candle holder later), and fire. ⁍ 1-step, prep: cleansed and energized the material. ⁍ 2-step, candle dressing: I applied the essential oil to the black candle, then started to dress it with the garlic pieces. I recommend doing this slowly and dressing each "side" of the candle instead of the whole candle. With the help of the red candle, I lit it up and used its drop of wax to hold the garlic in place. ⁍ 3-step, protection ring: with corn hair and thick salt, I created a protection ring so that the candle would be free to do its job without interference from what I was banishing. I placed it within the candle holder, which was a chamberstick type. Now, I want to say that the protection ring needs to be around the candle, with a chamberstick, it was quite efficient since I could carry the candle and the protection ring mutually without getting the house dirty. ⁍ 4-step, banishing: lit it up and allowed it to burn fully. ❅ warding is one of the best ways to protect your house or personal space. It always works for me, even when done in the astral (I've done this once but it was not intentional, don't ask me how I did it because I have minimal power over my astral/mental projections still). Basically, gather up energy and release it with the most amount of anger possible, like a dog showing its teeth to an enemy, while setting out the intention of only your guides, desired spirits, and positive energy entering. Do this in each room of the house if you wish to ward the whole house, or just in your bedroom if that's better. ❅ repelling unwanted energetic interactions through anger. Well, this one is a bit similar to warding, but it's done when the so said energy or spirit is already there. I've done this in the astral too, it worked thankfully lol. Anyway, it's similar to warding, but now you have a target to which you'll direct the aggressive energy you're gathering. Together with this energy, you'll say words like "get out of here" like, screaming, either out loud or in your head. You'll hunt down the "problem" if needed. My biggest tip is to go full red mode.

-`🕯 CONCLUSION 🕯´-

So, this was it! I hope you guys enjoyed it and that I've brought to y'all something new haha. As you can see, I haven't done much lol, I don't like to venture myself too much, and spells aren't my "it" activity either. Still, even though I've done more things, these were the ones I had the best results. Either way, see you soon <3

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sunseekerstarchaser · 1 year

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Fanfics Recs

Hi! So lets talk about the elephant on the room, Zar’s gone, their fics are gone. Im sure they did the best thing for them and I hope they're okay and that they can still enjoy this fandom without having to deal with the toxics part of it, doing so from the anonymity. Maybe one day they would bring their fics back, but maybe they wont. either way, this fandom is full of AMAZING stories, and every day I see new ones! Every day a new writer comes out with such beautiful and interesting concepts, so please, be kind to them, remember fanfic is not something you can buy, this is a comunity where we all interact and interchange opinions and our creativity in the ways we can!

I created a page for all the fics I have read and enjoyed, and Im working on one for my tbr.

Read Fics

TBR

And because it takes time to do it prettily, here’s a list of recomendations too! (That are not on the previous pages yet)

After Everything, Always by Reggie4dayzz

A Taste of Scandal by Solmussa

all the world around us by softhearted

A thousand bells ring in my heart (how hard it is to ask for forgiveness) by Alfonsiny

Balancing act - onedayofcourse

blinding lights by introvertedhufflepuff

By Your Heart's Calm Strenght - pansysnarkinson

can i save you this time? (can you save me too?) by maynightcity ***

Chasing the sun (For you) - matchamoony

Diptych by pansysnarkinson

Don't Blame me (Love Made me Crazy) - pieces_of_a_mirrorball

Downfall by Lunarde

Drugs and surgical scrubs by anauro

edge by pinkpalaceapartments

Futile devices by moonylovesreggie

GreenLight by starmoonchaser

Good Old-Fashioned Loverboy - TakeSwimmingLessons

glimpses of heaven by lunahunt

heaven is here if you want it by invisiblemuseum

If The Sun Caught Icarus by dantesstarsxxxii

i'll be seeing you by residentrookie

in the fires of our youth (oh, brother of mine) by quynhorlose

Into the Dark by regulusdiary

Kill Your Darlings by MesserMoon

lifeless things (nothing beside remains) by sisyphusss

Lost At Sea by star_stories

Loving is easy - rxgulus

Si vis pacem, para bellum by aureusprongs

Teeth -amour_anguis, regularis_vas

the elysium by pixie90smom

The Catfish & the King - TheBiButterfly

The Strange Serendipity of Regulus Arcturus Black by shy_attention_whore

this is me trying by witchhunts

Thole, Reggie. Thole by puddinghater26

Would That I by third_crow

We are all Stardust by rrosie_08

The ones in black are just my personal favorites!

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messengersfolly · 5 months

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There is no means to an end.

(a self-para for Malachi Howahkan. TW blood, gore, murder)

It's the endless drone of old fluorescent lights and the maniacal beeping of the fire alarm, low-battery. Everything ends, but it doesn't mean you know when.

And the annoyance will continue, and continue, and melt your mind away, until you put a stop to it.

It's with this thinking that Malachi Howahkan murders his wife with an axe in the back of their small Prairie-style Craftsman in mid-January.

His life has not been his own.

It has been Alice's, turned to dinner parties and board game nights. Stockings hung with care, two tiny tots, soccer practice, and the backyard grill. The ole ball and chain. "Can't live with him, can't live without him!" The baby showers, the anniversaries. A mini-van and a house with a foyer.

He works as an insurance agent. 9-5, casual Fridays, water cooler chatter and group synergy. "Workin' hard or hardly workin'?"

One day it's easy to just take the axe and swing it.

Easier than the time it takes to type in his client's yearly salary and figure out the percentage still owed.

Easier than picking up Bobby from violin.

Prison is not easy. It's threats and shouting and shoving. Too much time alone to think about every aspect of his wife's dead body, the blood coming from the chunks he cut out of her. Officers with too much power, men with too much anger. And boredom.

When he gets a letter, he assumes it's one of his kids. But it reads of a man infatuated. Questions about his life and how it fell apart, and more importantly, how he can piece it back together for Malachi.

This meager connection is a life raft in a tsunami. Mal holds to it like a man possessed. Until his fingers go raw and bloodied, he'll cling to every letter sent.

Polaroids on sun-bleached film, chopped brown hair tied with an old rubber band. Tales from the outside.

It's back and forth for years.

One day, the folded letter Malachi sends has a piece of twine tied into a little loop perfect for a finger enclosed inside. He asks him to marry him, and promises a better ring when he's out.

It's years later that Malachi Howahkan walks out of the New York State Penitentiary in the dirty clothes he walked in with over 20 years ago. Released early on good behavior. Cash that Mik had sent for snacks from the commissary buys a bus ticket straight to his husband's apartment.

Once he's there, he never leaves.

#malachimuse #selfthread #tw blood #tw gore #tw murder

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satyrmagos · 2 months

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Astrological talisman bearing an image and magical symbols associated with the planet Venus, used for all Venusian arts: love, beauty, music, good fortune, and all the rest.

This talismanic image of Venus is derived from the Picatrix, a Renaissance-era grimoire translated from its original Arabic, first to Spanish, then to Latin, and now to English: “The image of Venus according to the sage Beylus is the image of a woman standing on her feet, and in her right hand she holds an apple.” (Greer and Warnock, Book 2, Chapter 10) The back of the talisman bears the Grand Planetary Seal of Venus and the Characters of Venus according to Agrippa, and the glyph of Venus as presented in the Picatrix.

Modern magicians overwhelmingly use Venus to bring love, and that is absolutely in her wheelhouse: “Entreat Venus for the union of desires, the power of causing joy and friendship, driving out idleness and grief, for invigorating the appetite, augmenting procreation, multiplying sons, extinguishing fires, and remaining secure from animals.” (Book 4 Chapter 4 Para 8)

She also governs the arts: “She governs an aspect toward grammar, the art of poetic meter, sounds, and songs. … From the crafts, she governs all the skills of painting, illustrating, selling perfumes, playing instruments pleasantly, singing, dancing, and producing harmonies with instruments.” (Book 3 Chapter 1 Para 7)

* This talisman is seven-sided, one and a half inches across.

* Made of solid .925 sterling silver, shibuichi (an art metal alloy made of 3:1 copper:silver), yellow brass, or red bronze.

* Available as a coin, with an upeye for use as a pendant, or with three jump rings for use in a rosary-style necklace.

Each piece is hand-made to order in my home studio, with unique variations and defects as a result of the fabrication and casting process.

These talismans are NOT consecrated. That is your responsibility.

Astrological timing and consecration is available with a minimum of 30 days advance notice at an additional charge depending on the difficulty of the election.

#Occult Art #Talismanic Jewelry #Picatrix #Venus #Image Of Venus #Witchcraft #Witch Jewelry #Pagan #Jewelry #Art Jewelry #Jewelry Art #Queer Artist #Queer Jeweler #LGBT #Sorcerers Workbench

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heartburstings · 2 months

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list of pokemon i would eat. u guys like dunmeshi now so u can't judge me for thinking abt eating pocket freaking monsters. or do idc. u can also join in this fun imagination game with me by going to bulbapedia and clicking on any pokemon and looking at the biology and pokedex sections <3

you would think farfetch'd but farfetch'd is endangered from too many people eating it. so i wouldn't. but if it wasn't endangered i would eat it. it comes with its own vegetable for chrissakes c'monnn

paras. its mushrooms have medicinal properties also it's not a crab it's a bug so i can eat it. its body is perfectly proportioned w mushroom n meat. you would think i would choose parasect over paras but i would not. paras is easier to defeat and more abundant too. and parasect is like 90% mushroom. i would kill a parasect if i was really low on veggies i guess. or if i was having a hotpot

shellder. you cook that sucker up and you can pull him out the shell by the tongue mmmmm. i just think it'd be a really fun experience (<- this guy just recently found out he is not allergic to shellfish)

on that note none of the crab pokemon. these are the easy options but i am allergic.

the vanillite evolution chain. i don't care. put syrup and/or chocolate on them due to no flavor tho.

i would not eat a happiny evolution chain egg. they need those. if the pokemon were dead with the egg though then i maybe would. i don't know that feels like a lot of protein. hotpot dish?

froakie evolution chain. i don't care i love frog legs

tropius for the fruits. the body is humongous i would not eat that. holiday feast if it died though

stantler. its tail is huge i imagine it to have the same consistency as a duck's heart but large and sliceable and chewable for longer. and even if it isn't its tail is huge. i am so curious.

slowking. i would use his crown as a soup container like how some people use crab shells for presentation. but it's not presentation bc upside down it is perhaps the most unstable bowl ever. you would need to set it up to stay stable over a fire and you could hotpot it. same goes for slowbro ig. i would not eat them without a lot of veggies and stuff tho.

i would have a pokemon that knows scald btw. make cooking go faster by already having boiled water. that's just a free tip from me for you to be able to never use ever at all.

hoppip and skiploom. living salad . "but wynn isn't every grass type a living salad?" that's dangerous talk. budew evolution line for example would definitely kill you if you ate it without being careful. hoppip is plentiful and seems to spawn/live in groups however.

for that matter i think the more flowery pokemon would make a really pretty and good salad. flabebe's pollen (which makes up its crown) for example has medicinal properties. check if its flower is edible tho. also floette's flower is thought to have terrifying power which sounds dangerous so don't eat that. for that matter don't eat anything further along the flabebe evolution line i think it's too life risky to be worth it. and you can't even eat their flowers. comfey's flower ring (the flower ring is not part of its body). you could eat comfey itself but like... you get a forever flower salad. its vine is canonically highly nutritious and the flowers gain healing effects. you should not eat comfey salad when in caves or other flowerless areas tho bc it gets nervy without a flower ring.

similarly slowpoke tails grow back plus they secrete a sweet sappy substance. so.

fire type pokemon are complicated. sometimes their internal temperature is canonically definitely hot enough to cook it alive so i think you should assume you can't really cook it? is it just forever raw? i assume they CAN be eaten because you can't tell me scovillains don't get snacked on in the wild. but are they edible for humans??? anyway i'd eat a scovillain. only part of it though i'd save most of it cos yum spice. i'd use the whole head or perhaps even both the heads for a hotpot tho. a lot of pokemon are huge and eating them would logically usually be a group endeavor.

tangela. its tentacles are canonically said to have a refreshing flavor and scent and its vines are used as herbs. this probably means that they grow on/around tangela and are not actually part of tangela esp since the vines snap off easily if grabbed so it can run away. would probably go well with comfey flowers.

shuckle produces juices by storing berries (well any organic materials but mostly berries) in its shell and you best believe i am going to have The Blender Turtle on my team. especially if one of my pokemon has the pickup ability??? come on bro

i would not eat a rotom btw but i would have the fridge form rotom for preserving food. "oh wynn what about the one that's a microwave oven?" you don't even need fire type pokemon to start a fire and you want me to have a portable freaking oven when i can have a fridge? a fridge that will never break down? that is somehow both portable and large? would YOU give that up if you were traveling? be so honest. of course if something in the fridge itself gets problems somehow--esp the "special motor" which brings about the change in rotom (rotom can only possess/change specific appliances; the washing machine model that rotom possesses for example has been discontinued and the price has skyrocketed, which is so weird you'd think washing machine companies would start making a rotom compatible washing machine the same way we have electric washing machines? even if folks don't put a rotom in it they can still sell it while also appealing to trainers? idfk), so if that breaks you're definitely paying probably a lot to replace any parts. (<- this guy is normal about household appliances.)

i would eat a legendary any legendary. wynnie don't care.

lotad. it comes with its own vegetable and it gathers around lakes with good quality water so if i see it i know the water there is safe to drink and consume too.

azurill evolution line. the ball on its tail is packed with nutrients as an azurill, and full of oil as a marill and presumably as an azumarill. these will therefore play different roles in cooking but is valuable info nonetheless.

swablu evolution line would be soooooo aesthetic. don't make soup with them tho bc if the wings are in water too long they lose their fluffiness. they'd still be edible they just wouldn't be as aesthetic.

cherubi evolution line. self explanatory. it's freaking berries

applin evolution line. also self explanatory. it's freaking apples. u have to be careful with flapple of course (its cheeks store acid capable of corroding metal) but still.

ok one more. cramorant. esp cramorant gorging form (i am allergic to gulping form)

#wynn speaks #pokemon

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liu1011 · 5 months

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Hoy tengo muchas ganas de hablar sobre el fandom de south park, en especial de hell park. . .solamente puedo decir algunas palabras de hell park. . cosa bien hecha cosa divina fue hecha con tanto amor y cariño, se notaba que las personas que hicieron hell park lo hicieron con mucho cariño al igual que las animaciones y la historia y los dibujos. Me encantan Todos los diseños de los personajes! Y en especial del diseño de gregory!

mira esa carita hermosa, esa carita de gay. . simplemente es hermoso, Aunque tampoco no nos tenemos que olvidar del diseño de Estella

guapa divina bella! y creo que tiene las mejores canciones

Ring of fire y Curses

dos de mis canciones favoritas que no sabía que existían pero los conocí gracias a hell park aunque también hay otras canciones que me encantan

Teenage Demon Baby y who put the bomp

me encantaban estos videos, y los shipeos también me encantaban digo yo no tenía problemas de qué tweek y craig no estaban juntos en este au Como en la serie que ahí son pareja oficial de hecho me pareció muy bien que no fueran parejas Y eso no significa que no me gusta él tweek x craig me encanta pero me gustaría ver algo diferente

y quiero dejar algo claro yo tengo mis ships favoritos que los quiero demasiado y no los cambiaría por nada porque son mis gustos pero tampoco no significa que no pueda disfrutar otros ships y tampoco no quiero tirar basura a otras personas por sus ships como lo están haciendo los supuestas fans de tweek x craig, Ya sé que esa pareja es oficial pero por favor cálmense el mundo no se va a acabar si hay un dibujo o una historia que no tenga tweek x craig cada quien con sus gustos, si molestas demasiado a otros por sus ships obviamente eso está mal y mucho peor si dices los datos de la persona que estás molestando eso ya es un problema mental, tan molesto debes estar para hacer eso a una persona quien solamente hizo un dibujo de un ship que no hacen daño a otra persona? y piensas que es divertido decir algunas cosas personales de la persona? y que reciba demasiado acoso a punto de que tiene deseos de que ya no quiere estar en este mundo? y no solamente eso. . comienzan a hacer falsos rumores y capturas de pantalla falsas de conversaciones

porque? Esa es la pregunta que siempre tengo en la mente solamente una simples palabras "porque?"

para qué hacer daño a otras personas que no te hicieron nada? qué es lo que te hacen sentir realmente? qué es lo que sientes cuando una persona tiene su propio proyecto?

Supongo que son preguntas que jamás se van a responder

y no me vengas a decir que tenía que ser cancelado, por Su contenido algo fuerte y porque mataron a un personaje esto es demasiado tonto, sabes la diferencia de un personaje y una persona?

personaje - Ser ficticio, persona o animal, inventado por un autor, que interviene en la acción de una obra literaria o de una película. la Cenicienta y los tres cerditos son personajes de cuentos infantiles

en este caso no es un personaje de un cuento para niños es una historia para adultos y jóvenes que ya tienen edad para mirar historias de ese estilo, hasta conozco algunos bastante jóvenes que aún no tienen la edad para mirar ese tipo de contenido Pero saben perfectamente que son falsos que no son reales, son personajes

"ay. .es que el contenido puede ser algo peligroso para los demás y aparte tiene mensajes de que ya no quiere estar en este mundo"

a ver puede ser un mensaje un poco fuerte para algunos que sufrieron algunas cosas de su vida Pero ellos siguen adelante, Siguen con su camino de felicidad y hasta creo que hay algunos que están leyendo este tipo de historia y te preguntarás Por qué? no se supone que es malo que estén leyendo este tipo de historias?. . .Se podría decir que sí y no, esto depende demasiado a la persona que está leyendo

y esto lo puedo decir con la canción de miss wanna die, que es una canción sobre. . . ya saben, casi la mayoría de las veces que escucho la canción. en vez de ponerme triste me pone demasiado feliz y esto se debe Porque sacas lo malo de tu mente y desaparecen con solamente una simple canción, y esto podría funcionar tanto en la música como de las historias. . al igual que los dibujos te dan un sentimiento de alivio

estos simples dibujos y historias . . y como la música estos pueden crear sentimientos tanto mágico que ni siquiera te lo puedes creer algo como un sentimiento de felicidad y maravillas que no sabías que podrías sentir en una historia, ya que te conectas demasiado con un personaje y hasta sientes que ambos son iguales ambos tuvieron que sufrir mucho tuvieron el sentimiento de que algo está roto en ellos la gente los ve como que están exagerando o como bichos raros, por eso la persona que está leyendo se siente especial junto con ese personaje ambos se conectan, Y aunque el personaje no consiga la felicidad en la historia. la persona se podría dar cuenta que él puede conseguir la felicidad puede escapar de la situación que está viviendo y esto se debe por una historia, hay diferentes formas que la persona se pueda conectar en la historia. . en la música y en los dibujos y Eso depende de la persona

" ay!. . es que mataron a un personaje! Matar a Jimmy por su discapacidad!!! eso no está bien!!"

. . . .tú estás tonto? en serio te pones muy mal por un personaje? digo también me puse algo mal cuando mataron a Jimmy pero tampoco no hay que llegar a lo lejos por este personaje, regresamos lo mismo sobre lo que significa un personaje

personaje - Ser ficticio O sea que no existe

todos los personajes tuvieron unas muertes Terribles. . .bueno casi todos tuvieron unas muertes Terribles

. . .pero bueno regresando al tema de la muerte de Jimmy, en realidad no lo mataron porque sí, si mal recuerdo iba a hacer un personaje muy importante de la historia o algo así, pero vamos a fingir que Jimmy es una persona real y está muerto por culpa de una persona. . . sabes lo que pasaría? nada! porque estás mas ocupado echando basura a otras personas por su historia y su personaje que no existe. . .que? Esperas que las cosas iban a ser diferentes? no lo creo porque te haces la vista ciega, te aseguro completamente Si una persona se muere tú serías el primero que hace la vista ciega, Ah pero cuando se trata de un personaje ahí comienzas a atacar

y Kenny x Dogpoo

. . .Supongo que ya sabes lo que voy a decir

bueno Supongo que ya no me queda otra cosa que decir. . .solamente les voy a dar consejos

1- si hay una historia que no te gusta puedes bloquear, no hagas una estupidez de crear falsos rumores y menos a coses a los creadores

2- Esto es para toda la gente: por favor No te creas lo que dicen algunos usuarios algunos pueden ser mentirosos y al final vas a hacer daño a algunas personas inocentes que no tuvieron la culpa Y en especial a los creadores que tampoco no tuvieron la culpa solamente quieren hacer su trabajo y su proyecto

3- esto es por si acaso de que una persona saca capturas sobre una persona que está creando una historia O solamente es un creador de contenido, por favor no hagas nada no debes compartir esas capturas hasta que se confirme

#south park #hell park #hell park fanart #south park au

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1rsoldiersince2012 · 2 years

Text

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x reader)

Words: 2407 (chapter 7)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that?

UPDATES EVERY FRIDAY

Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad under the same name <3

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012

wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012

7. Into the Ring

"Hey there, champ." You say joyfully, stepping into the ward, immediately noticing how the whole room is filled with balloons and flowers. The boy smiles weakly and lifts his left hand a little to greet.

Jeremy's mother follows you and closes the door for more privacy. "Honey, that's our lawyer, I'm sure she'll be able to help us."

The boy's eyes follow your movements, from the moment you opened the door to the second you sat down next to him and fixed your skirt, crossing your legs. "How you're feeling, Jeremy?" You ask now professionally.

"Could be better." he answers, lifting his eyes from your legs; for a brief second you got quite uncomfortable with the situation.

"He's doing much better now, but the doctor says that it will take at least 3 months for the knee to heal, so then, at last, he could walk again." His mother fires up again, and you feel like she's the real problem here. It was more than enough that she has chatted your ear off in the parking lot, and now she's just repeating herself.

"Jeremy, if that's okay, I want us to talk about the accident. I want to ask a few questions, alright?" You turn to look at the boy again, he puts his right arm on his stomach, as if showing you the broken fingers.

"Yeah, it's alright."

"Do you wish for your mother to stay in the room?"

"It's not necessary." Jeremy says, not looking at his mother.

"Mrs Williams, could I speak to Jeremy in private?"

A sour expression appears on mother's face, but one nod from her son, and she's gone. You sigh a little, sometimes parents were the real problem, not kids.

"Can you tell me what happened?" you smile warmly and Jeremy visibly relaxes.

***

In his apartment, Matt Murdock is woken up by the constant beeping of an automatic voice, saying 'Foggy'. "Hello." Matt answers, after pressing something on the screen of his phone.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Foggy chirps into Matt's ear.

"Uh, what time is it?" Matt rasps, he returned home later than planned, but accomplished much more than he expected.

"Half past get the hell up. Let's go. We gotta meet Walter in an hour." Foggy says, and Matt groans loudly. "What was that? Was that a moan? Do you have somebody in bed with you? The paralegal? Is it the para- over at? Never mind, I don't wanna hear about it. No, I do wanna hear about it!"

Matt groans again, sitting up on the bed, "No, Foggy, it's not the paralegal-"

"Oh, is it y/n? I thought I noticed something between you two," Foggy says in a hushed tone, "What's she like? How is it gonna affect our case?"

"What?" Matt asks, not expecting the conversation to turn this way, "Foggy, what are you even talking?"

"All right, shake it. Tell me about it later, I gotta go bribe a cop."

"Foggy-"

"Kidding! NSA, if you're listening. But seriously, yeah, I gotta go bribe a cop." Foggy ends the call and Matt is left alone in the silence of his apartment, reminded of your existence again.

***

"Okay," you loudly close your notebook and reach for your purse, "I think I have everything I need, Jeremy, and I will do everything in my power to make the school take the responsibility. I think I can call you my client now." You stand up and smile warmly, reaching out your left hand towards the boy, he smiles, and gives you his good hand - left one - and awkwardly shakes yours.

"Partner sounds better." He continues, holding your hand.

"Good, see you here next week before court session, partner." You let go of his hand, and take your jacket from the chair, waving one last time before almost walking into Jeremy's mother, who was obviously listening to you outside the ward. "Mrs Williams, I'll do everything the law allows me to do, just so that you and Jeremy could rest at night easily."

"I hope so, the school has to pay for what it has done." You notice the red patches that coloured her face all of a sudden.

"If anything, you can call me anytime, Mrs Williams, and I'll swing by the hospital to drive with you to the court, see you next week." You touch her shoulder and excuse yourself when your phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Y/n, it's me, Sally. You... Asked me to call you..." a faint voice reaches your ear, and you increase the volume on your phone.

"Oh, hey Sally, yes, about the case. Can you come to my office?" You step into the elevator with a handsome doctor and another businessman, and literally feel the testosterone level shoot up twice in the small space. "Yes, yes, the same street, I think you will quickly notice the building. Ask at the reception, but I'm on the 7th floor. Yes, okay, great. See you soon." You end the call and look at the two men, the doctor is busy typing something on his phone, while the businessman is clearly watching you. When you look at him, he courtly nods, fixing his glasses. Have you seen him somewhere? Your former client? Couldn't be. You smile at him briefly, the elevator stops on the 2nd floor, and doctor steps out, still furiously typing. Doors close again, but you avoid the man's eyes, busy thinking where he could know you from. During that year and a half that you've worked in Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz, you've never had a client like him, because you remember all your clients.

Tension ends when doors open again, and you're first to step out, hurrying to your car outside. The man follows, and when you sit down to start the car, you notice that he sat into the black SUV parked right next to your car. "What the fuck?" You whisper to yourself and drive off, noticing that the man is still following you.

15 minutes later, when you pull next to the firm's building, you see that the SUV has turned left, right before you turned right. Weird. Was the car really following you, or were you simply paranoid?

***

(author's note: the following is to be read as a parallel, imagine that on screen both scenes appear together)

"Mr Davis, please, take a seat." Foggy closes the door and leads a man with gray hair, and a very out-of-style knitted green vest further into the office.

"Sally, please, make yourself comfortable." You say, and a woman your age, with a tired expression on her face, walks in. It's obvious that life wasn't treating her at all.

"Tell me what happened" You and Matt ask spouses at the same time. Both Sally and Walter close their eyes for a moment, before loudly clearing their throats.

"I love my wife, still do, although these years with her have been exhausting." Walter says, and Matt listens to his heart, noticing how it skipped a beat on those very first words.

"How long have you two been married again?" You ask, obviously still distracted by what happened before.

"Three years. Three years of hell." Sally answers, clutching her purse. "We had three kids together, twins and a girl. I want to take them with me now."

"Take them where?" Foggy asks, quickly writing in his notebook.

"France." Walter rolls his eyes.

"I want to move to France, I know that kids are still little, but at this age, it's better if they stay with me. Can you do that?" Sally lifts her head to look you in the eyes.

"Do what, Sally?"

"Help me keep her and children here." Walter says, and Matt feels something in Walter's voice - possessiveness. That can't be good.

"Sally, look... The child custody is equal..."

"We have to convince the jury that you're capable of raising a kid alone-" Foggy gives a little hope to the man sitting in front of him.

"But usually they go with giving father rights to visit anytime. I'm not sure how that would be possible if you moved out of Hell's Kitchen, let alone America." You sigh, already regretting that you took the case, divorce ones are always a bitch to live through.

"Why exactly does your wife want to divorce you, Mr Davis?" Matt addresses the elephant in the room. Walter shifts uncomfortably.

"I... have a gambling problem..." Walter begins and Foggy is quick to raise his eyebrows, "but I'm getting better, I promise-"

"You're what, winning now?" Matt ridicules the man, already knowing that he's just another sick son of a bitch, but Nelson and Murdock still need money.

"No, I'm... Going to therapy now."

"So Sally wants to divorce you because of your gambling?" Foggy crosses something out in his notes.

"No, that bastard cheated on me with Monica." Sally sniffles a little.

"Wait what? Our Monica? The Monica from chemistry?" You ask, not believing what Sally just said, and for a moment you felt like you were back in high school, collecting all the news and gossip.

"The same one."

"Jesus. I don't mean to be a bitch now, but Sally, what did you see in him?" You flip through the pages of the case folder, looking at the passport picture of Walter, who looks like he teaches music at school but secretly is a pervert. "What did Monica see?"

"Monica fucks everything and everyone she sees now. We accidentally ran into each other at the petrol station, and apparently they both got chatty at the checkout." Sally answers uncomfortably.

"Cheating and gambling... Hm. Jury might be in your favour, actually." You nod to yourself, "and he, what, promised to pay all your legal expenses?"

"Only if she stays with me." Walter says, failing to notice a small smirk on Matt's face. He's not going to win, but will be made to pay for lawyers either way, and gossip's been floating around, your firm charged a lot.

"We'll get the money, dear, and you will follow your dream to France. I promise." You smile, reaching your hand to shake, but Sally stands up and goes around the table to hug you shortly. God knows you needed a hug these last weeks as much as you need air to breathe.

"Thank you-" Sally lets you go and, sniffling, leaves.

"Thank you, gentlemen." Walter shakes hands with Foggy and Matt, still believing that he will change Sally's mind.

When the office door closes, Foggy plops back on the chair, "We're never going to win this."

"Nope, this is a losing case." Matt seconds.

"And the bill's due soon." Foggy looks around the office.

"We still have more hope than Walter." Matt pats Foggy's shoulder on his way out. "Coffee?"

"Hell yeah."

*** Friday came fast, too fast for your liking, and you reached the court at 9 a.m., still feeling sleepy, with a two layers of mascara under your eyes, hoping to fool everyone around you, that you look fresh and well rested, just like expensive lawyers should look.

Near the entrance you stop for a smoke, trying to calm down the ever present court anxiety, and from the group of people, and couple of lawyers from Landman and Zack, you see Foggy Nelson himself emerging, no Walter in sight. Honestly, you thought that he would be glued to his lawyers.

"Mr Nelson, what a pleasure to see you again." You say cheerfully, blowing out a puff of smoke.

Foggy lifts his head, smiling widely at you, and quickly stretches his hand to greet, "Miss y/l/n, how unexpected to see you again."

"Yeah, right. All by yourself?" You look around, not seeing any blind man with red glasses.

"Yeah, apparently my partner ditched me today, took the sick leave on our shittiest case." Foggy scoffs, but you notice that he's not angry, maybe just a little disappointed.

"You already feel the loss, Mr Nelson?" You offer him your cigarette, but Foggy shakes his head.

"I felt it since the moment Walter stepped in our office."

"Yeah, his problems are not in his favour, no gambling father has been giving an infant to raise yet." You put out the cigarette and think for a moment. "Mr Nelson, may I ask you something?"

"Depends on how much I can gain from it." Foggy smirks, eyes following Marci, who just stepped out of the taxi.

"Maybe a little art knowledge."

"Art knowledge?"

"Yes... There's an exhibition that I am invited to..."

"And you need a partner? With pleasure." Foggy answers quickly and you take a moment to think whether he was joking.

"Seriously? Wow, that was fast."

"I can't miss an opportunity to go out with a beautiful lady." Foggy says, opening the doors for you, like a true gentleman, and you blush a little.

"Oh, Mr Nelson, keep your flatter to yourself, you'll need it later." Foggy laughs behind you, and inside you see Sally and Walter, shooting imaginary lightnings at each other.

"When is it happening?" Foggy appears on your left, swinging his briefcase a little.

"Tomorrow, at 4. I hope I'm not ruining your weekend plans."

"No, I'm sure I'll be back just in time for drinks with Matt."

"Dragging a sick man to a bar? Brutal friendship." You laugh, but put on a serious face when you spot Linda Chao, one of your bosses in the hall. She also didn't like her employees chatting with lawyers from other firms.

"You gotta do what you gotta do. Well, may Lady Justice decide the fate of our clients," Foggy shakes your hand shortly, and you nod.

"Too bad Murdock is not going to witness my triumphant victory." You say, and leave, a smirk on your face.

*** While you and Foggy were engaged in a friendly courtroom banter, Matt was struggling to put on his suit. Still beat up from last night, with broken ribs, a stab wound and many punches to other places, he remembered how he nearly died twice last night. He was lucky that Claire happened to work in a hospital, and managed to patch him up. What Matt was mostly proud of, was that he managed to save that little boy. Although starting a war with Russians was a stupid decision, but one he had to make.

Ditching Foggy was a dick move, but he knew that you were going to win either way. He admitted to himself, there was a part of him that wanted to meet with you again. To hear how you defended your clients with a burning passion to the law.

Exhaling loudly, he puts on his jacket, and gets ready to talk to Father Lantom, feeling not the need to do so, but a responsibility, hanging on his head since last night.

#matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock x reader #matts superhearing complicates things for you #foggy nelson #lawyers #marvel #marvel daredevil #netflix daredevil #daredevil #bound by law

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churchofthesluttyknee · 10 days

Text

A Series of Firsts: Chapter 6 - Glimpses of You. Pt 1

Author(s): A collaboration amongst smutty parishioners of The Church of the Slutty Knee

Pairing(s): Pedro x Oscar

Rating: E18+ MDNI

Word Count: pending

Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, including, but not limited to BDSM, choking, anal, oral, masturbation (self/mutual), toys, public sex

Chapter Summary: Pedro and Oscar face the challenge of being separated due to work commitments after Pedro's project extends much longer than expected, straining their relationship as this marks the first significant period they've spent apart since they began dating.

Notes: Chapter begins June 22, 2019, ends around November 2, 2019.

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

Chapter 6 - Glimpses of You

[Oscar narrates]

Me encuentro acostado en la cama a tu lado, cálido y seguro. Me doy la vuelta y te veo durmiendo. Te toco la mejilla y el susurro de una sonrisa juega en tus hermosos labios. La misma sonrisa que prelude a esa risa obscena, la que revela tus hoyuelos, haciéndote lucir mucho más deliciosamente travieso. Empiezo a bajar las sábanas que cubren tu cuerpo desnudo, acariciando tu piel caliente. Me hace la boca agua con las ganas de besarte. Anhelo probar la sal de tu piel en mis labios. Me acerco, pero de repente desapareces. La cama está fría y vacía sin ti.

Te veo bailando en la cocina mientras sirves nuestro café. Cantando, bailando, sonriendo... siempre te ves tan feliz y despreocupado cuando estás atrapado en un momento así. Cuando te das cuenta de que te estoy observando, un rubor te enrojece las mejillas. Sonríes esa hermosa y avergonzada sonrisa y tus brazos me invitan a acercarme. Cuando me acerco, desapareces en el aire. Todo lo que me queda es un hueco en el pecho. El dolor me deja sin aliento.

Me despierto de golpe y me doy cuenta de que no estás a mi lado. Mis sueños de que estés cerca de mí son tan fuertes, ese deseo de tenerte muy cerca de mí es implacable. Cuento los segundos para verte, besarte, mirarte a los ojos y decirte que te quiero. Mientras tanto, tendré que contentarme viéndote bailar en mis sueños. Me entrego a tu fuego que me quema de la manera más deliciosa imaginable.

Te echo de menos, Dios mío, cómo te echo de menos, mi amor.

I find myself lying in bed next to you, warm and safe. I turn over and see you sleeping. I touch your cheek and the whisper of a smile plays at your beautiful lips. The same smile that preludes that obscene laugh, the one that reveals your dimples, making you look that much more deliciously naughty. I start to lower the sheets that cover your naked body, caressing your hot skin. My mouth waters with the desire to kiss you. I yearn to taste the salt of your skin on my lips. I move in closer, but you suddenly disappear. The bed is cold and empty without you.

I see you dancing in the kitchen while you pour our coffee. Singing, dancing, smiling… you always look so happy and carefree when you’re caught up in the moment like that. When you realize I’m watching you a blush reddens your cheeks. You smile that beautiful, embarrassed smile and your arms invite me to move closer. When I reach out you vanish into thin air. All that remains is a hole in my chest. The ache leaves me breathless.

I awake with a start and realize that you’re not by my side. My dreams of you being close to me are so strong, that desire to have you very close to me unrelenting. I count the seconds until I get to see you, kiss you, look you into your eyes and tell you that I love you. Until then, I will have to make do seeing you dance in my dreams. I give in to this fire of yours that burns me in the most delicious way imaginable.

I miss you, oh god how I miss you my love.

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

Act I: Special Delivery

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

When the doorbell rings on the morning of June 22, Pedro is surprised to be handed a large dossier by a courier from his agent’s office. He’d been expecting the script and details for this movie, but not for a few more weeks. The schedule included in the packet indicated that filming would begin in Kalkara on July 10 and was expected to wrap around the last week of September. Cast was expected to arrive no later than July 8 to prepare for costume fittings. The package included one-way airfare from LAX to MLA and reservation information for the Grand Hotel Excelsior in Valletta. Resting his chin on Pedro’s shoulder, Oscar quickly scans the itinerary.

“I should be home in plenty of time to celebrate our anniversary!” Pedro exclaims happily. “The way my agent was talking, there was a chance filming would start as late as mid-August and wouldn’t wrap until sometime in November.”

“We’d have made it work if you didn’t get home in time, mi Pedrito,” Oscar says, kissing Pedro’s neck, just below his ear. “You’ll be gone for almost three months. This will be the longest we’ve been apart for almost a year. You know what that means, right?” Oscar asks, a hint of mischief in his tone, as he places more kisses along the column of Pedro’s neck.

“Hmm, that you’ll miss me and pine for me while I’m gone?” Pedro asks playfully.

“That’s a given,” Oscar says nonchalantly. “It means… that you’re gonna have to be *extra* good on those lonely, balmy nights when you’re lying in bed…, thinking of me, and all the things you want me to do to you,” Oscar whispers in Pedro’s ear, his hand caressing Pedro’s ass as he comes around to face him. “And all the things you want to do to me,” Oscar breathes against Pedro’s lips.

Pedro takes Oscar’s lower lip between his teeth before kissing him deeply, fingers weaving into Oscar’s hair. Oscar tosses the itinerary onto the bar and grips Pedro’s hips, pulling him close. Kneading Oscar’s ass, Pedro lays a trail of kisses across Oscar’s jaw, down his neck, and across his bare chest.

“Will you text me, every day, while I’m gone?” Pedro asks between kisses as he continues to explore Oscar’s chest with his lips and tongue. “Call me…” he breathes heavily, his teeth grazing Oscar’s right nipple. “Tell me what you’re imagining doing to me… what you’re imagining me doing to you?” Pedro’s kisses move slowly down Oscar’s stomach, his hands on his lovers back, fingers gently flexing and pressing into his flesh. “Tell me how you’re touching yourself…, the mere *thought* of me making you hard?” Pedro whispers softly, tugging at the waist of Oscar’s boxer briefs. “How it makes your cock *ache* that you can’t be inside me with me half way around the world?” Pedro kisses the tip of Oscar’s cock as he releases it from its fabric confines and begins stroking slowly.

“I can do all of those things if they’ll make you happy, baby. You know all I want is for you to be happy. I could tell you all of those things right now,” Oscar pants heavily, his fingers buried in Pedro’s hair, pulling tightly and angling Pedro’s head back so he can look at him. “Or I could show you instead.”

“Hmm, I want you to show me, gatito… ahora,” Pedro purrs, looking up at Oscar as he continues to stroke him lazily.

“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back,” Oscar says, his voice thick with desire, eyes darkening with lust. When Pedro looks at him with those large, pouty brown eyes Oscar bends down and kisses him tenderly on the nose before disappearing down the hall.

A few moments later he returns to see Pedro is exactly where he’d left him. Only now he’s sitting on the floor, leaning back with his legs stretched out, facing away from the hallway. Oscar comes up behind him quietly, placing his hands upon Pedro’s broad shoulders.

“Close your eyes, mi tigre,” Oscar whispers in a soft, yet commanding, tone.

Eyes closed tightly, Pedro inhales deeply as he feels cool silk moving across his bare shoulders and chest. The sensation elicits a shiver of anticipation, setting off a flurry of goosebumps across his skin. Oscar drapes the scarf over Pedro’s eyes, tying it just tight enough that it won’t fall. Pedro yields to the darkness, surrendering to Oscar completely. The loss of sight heightens every sensation, suddenly making Oscar’s every touch electric, every breath a whispered secret across Pedro’s burning skin. Kneeling behind Pedro, Oscar’s lips trail a path between Pedro’s shoulder blades.

“I’m so hard for you baby. Are you hard for me?” Oscar asks, lips exploring Pedro’s neck.

“Yes, mi gatito. I’m *so* fucking hard for you.”

Oscar’s lips traverse the column of Pedro’s neck and the underside of his jaw until he finds himself on all fours in front of Pedro. Straddling his thighs, Oscar kisses him softly on the lips, leaning in just enough that Pedro instinctively leans back. Resting his palms on the floor, framing Pedro on both sides, Oscar buries his face in the crook of Pedro’s neck, licking and biting with abandon.

“I want you to imagine every inch, every curve, of my body against yours, my breath lighting a fire under your skin that only I can extinguish,” Oscar pants against Pedro’s neck.

Propping himself up on his left elbow, Oscar settles his weight on Pedro, rubbing his cock through the cotton of his boxer briefs while continuing to focus on his neck and shoulder. Hands moving blindly down his own torso, Pedro hooks a thumb into his waistband, pulling his boxers down just enough to allow Oscar full access. Pedro grips Oscar’s neck, pulling him into a hungry kiss. Loosening his grip, Pedro’s hand moves across Oscar’s chest and stomach. His fingers steal into Oscar’s boxers, running up and down his length. Once Oscar adjusts his boxers, Pedro immediately seizes hold of Oscar’s cock, and they stroke one another in unison.

Pedro purrs as Oscar continues to bite, suck and kiss the spaces between his neck and shoulders. Oscar’s warm breath fans across Pedro’s skin as his lips continue their exploration, moving across his jaw and lips.

“Can you feel the heat of my breath against your lips as I stroke your gorgeous cock?” Oscar whispers, his hand slowing until it’s completely still.

“God, yes. Please, don’t stop, Daddy,” Pedro begs, shuddering under his touch, gasping when Oscar resumes his deliberate, meticulous stroking.

“Imagine my fingertips delicately brushing over your chest and stomach, moving up and down, almost imperceptibly,” Oscar says in a low, sultry tone.

Sitting upright, Oscar pumps Pedro slowly, methodically. Pedro inhales deeply when he feels Oscar’s weight settle just below his hips. Fingertips gliding so lightly, feather like, across his skin, Pedro wonders briefly if the touch is only in his imagination. Moaning softly, his hips buck under Oscar’s weight as his back arches when he feels Oscar’s cock against his own. Hips rolling in one fluid, circular motion, Oscar’s grip tightens on their shafts, the delicious friction making Pedro bite his lip hard as he tries to stifle a cry of pleasure.

“Don’t fight it baby. I want to hear how good it makes you feel when I touch you, mi tigre. No need to be quiet now, no one can hear us,” Oscar purrs, his lips crashing into Pedro’s, his own moan lost between their tongues.

Pedro’s fingers weave deep into Oscar’s hair, holding him tightly against his lips. He refuses to let go, aware that if he doesn’t pause for air soon, his lungs may very well collapse. He doesn’t care though, his need for Oscar supersedes his need for oxygen. Oscar’s pace increases, his hips rolling like a surging tide, Pedro’s hips lifting and rolling to match the madness. Their lips finally part and they both gasp heavily for air. Supporting himself with his right hand, Pedro wraps his arm around Oscar’s neck, panting raggedly. Fingers lost in Oscar’s hair, Pedro bites the sensitive skin at the top of Oscar’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna cum, mi tigre?”

“Fuck,” Pedro gasps into the crook of Oscar’s neck. Panting, desperate for relief, Pedro whispers pleadingly, “Can I please cum for you, Daddy?”

“Not yet baby, but we’re almost there. We’re so close,” Oscar says softly, a devilish smirk spreading across his lips as his hand slows its movements.

“I wanna cum for you, Daddy, please. Wanna cum so hard for you.” Pedro’s breathing hitches as Oscar picks up his pace again.

“How badly do you want it? How desperately, how passionately, will you beg me to let you cum?” Oscar’s hand slows yet again, his index finger grazing over the crown of Pedro’s cock, making him twitch in his hand. A groan escapes Pedro’s lips.

“Please, I want to… I *need* to cum. Please, Daddy,” his breath comes out in raged gasps. He’s teetering on the edge, trying to be obedient and not let go just yet.

Pedro whimpers softly. His body trembles with tension, resonating like an overwound string instrument that only Oscar knows how to play.

“Hmm, listen to yourself. When you whimper for me, darling, you sound so achingly sexy. How does it feel to be so tightly wound?”

For several seconds all Pedro can do is gasp for air, his whimpers filling the space between them. Finally able to collect his thoughts, he breathes, barely above a whisper, “I feel like I’m gonna break, shattered into a million pieces.”

Oscar lovingly wraps his left arm around Pedro's back, leans back, and tenderly kisses Pedro's glistening forehead before resting his head against Pedro's.

“Cum for me, Pedrito,” Oscar commands in a breathless whisper. With a heavy moan Pedro lets go. “Yeah, just like that baby. Just let it happen, mi tigre. Fuck, there it is. Such a good boy, cumming so hard for me.”

Oscar’s praising words wash over Pedro as his cock spasms and ropes of cum continue to pour out with each stroke of Oscar’s hand. He works his hand up and down Pedro’s shaft until he’s worked every last drop out of him.

Pedro lifts his hands and removes the blindfold just as Oscar lets go of his cock. With a gentle, loving touch, Oscar lays butterfly kisses across Pedro’s face, neck and shoulders.

“I don’t know how I’m going to survive three months without…” Pedro trails off, his eyes raking over Oscar, drinking him in, savoring how delicious he looks with that mischievous little smile on his lips. “You,” Pedro says a moment later, his tone melancholy.

Lifting his hand to his mouth, Oscar begins to lick away the mess Pedro has left. “You taste like sin and salvation”.

“I didn’t hear you finish, mi gatito. Did you cum yet?” Pedro asks with concern.

“I was waiting for you, mi amor. Help me finish?” Oscar asks with an impish grin.

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

Act II: The Polaroid’s

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

On June 27 another courier from the agents office arrives with a thin manila envelope. The envelope contains a new itinerary, along with an updated ticket and hotel reservation. The attached letter explained that all US talent was being given until July 10 to arrive due to the July 4 US holiday. Fittings were now set for July 12. The resulting delay in arrival was only expected to add a few days to the filming schedule.

“The new arrival date is nice, but I’m worried about production being delayed. I hope we can manage to stay somewhat within the original window. If there’s any sort of delay now I may not make it back in time. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t be with you on our first anniversary,” Pedro says, worry darkening his features.

“Let’s not think about that just yet. We’ll cross that bridge if, and when, we get to it,” Oscar reassures him. “In the meanwhile, let’s take advantage of the time we have together before you leave.”

The 6th was there before they know it. When they arrive at Jason and Mickey’s party they’re each given a sealed bag. Jason explains that the bags each contain a Polaroid instant camera and several film cartridges.

“Are we supposed to go around taking goofy pictures of everybody today?” Pedro asks through a fit of laughter.

“No, silly” Jason chuckles. “These are for you and Oscar. I know you’ve both got photos of one another on your phones, but I thought it would be fun to have something more tangible. You know, something you could hold in your hand. I thought maybe it would make you feel a little less separated. Plus, these instant cameras are so nostalgic.” As Pedro inspects his camera, Jason continues, “These pictures are just for the two of you, so go wild! Wanna take a bunch of goofy pictures? Go for it! Want to take something a little more sentimental or… risqué? That’s awesome too! Just be careful not to lose them if they’re the latter.”

For the remainder of the evening both Pedro and Oscar take a dozen or so photos; alone, with friends, posed and candid. These photos all share the sweet innocence of friendship and young love. When they finally arrive home, just after 2 AM, they have just enough energy to brush their teeth and strip to their boxers before collapsing into bed. Oscar’s arm instinctively wraps around Pedro’s waist while Pedro’s fingers massage tiny circles across Oscar’s hip until they’re both sound asleep.

The remaining days leading up to Pedro’s flight are a whirlwind of chaos. Packing bags, checking and double checking documents, and the general anxiety of knowing that in less than 72 hours they wouldn’t have physical contact for close to 3 months. During these final two days they manage to use up all of the remaining film cartridges. Aside from the photos taken at Jason and Mickey’s party, which they shared with each other, the rest of the photos are kept secret, a treasure to be shared later. On the morning of Pedro’s flight they exchange sealed envelopes just before kissing each other goodbye at the security check in. They each promise not to open their envelopes until they’re able to speak to each other again by phone once Pedro has settled into his room.

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

Act III: Different Time Zones

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

When Pedro lands in Malta some 15 hours later he’s utterly exhausted. Between the length of the flight, his inability to sleep for a large part of it and the time zone change, all he wants to do is take an Ambien and sleep for a month. While collecting his checked bags, he rummages through his duffle bag to find his phone. As soon as it registers signal, the phone begins to vibrate and a multitude of notifications flash across the screen. Hundreds of them stare back at him, missed calls, missed texts, missed reminders. The sheer magnitude of it makes him grimace. He almost starts to respond before remembering that his loved ones are most likely asleep, considering it’s between 2 AM and 5 AM in the US. Running on autopilot, the ride to the hotel and check in occur in a sleep deprived fog. As soon as he’s in his room he haphazardly deposits his bags and lands, face first, on the king sized bed. Within seconds he’s fast asleep.

At around 3 PM local time, after a paltry 4 hours of restless sleep, he’s awoken by the sound of his phone vibrating across the night stand. A new notification. His heart flutters when he sees it’s a voicemail from Oscar. He brushes his teeth while he looks through the bombardment of alerts that he’d ignored before passing out. Once he’s done, Pedro begins the daunting task of sifting and responding. First he responds to his sisters and brother, then to Sarah and Jason, letting everyone know he’s arrived safely. Those dealt with, he listens to Oscar’s voicemail.

“Hey babe, hope you made it safely and have gotten at least somewhat settled in. I’m headed back to Brooklyn tomorrow to meet with some people about that Broadway production I told you about a few months ago. I’ll text when I land tomorrow tonight and when I’m out of the meetings Friday. I’ll be staying at the apartment if you need anything. I miss you like crazy, and you’ve not even been gone a whole day yet! Can’t wait to talk to you tonight and look at the pictures we swapped. ¡Te amo, mi Pedrito!”

With a huge grin on his face, his hair pointing in all directions and his shirt a wrinkled mess, Pedro quickly grabs his wallet and room key, briefly glancing in the mirror before heading down to the front desk. He asks the attendant for a dining recommendation and within fifteen minutes he’s being seated at Da’ Pippo Trattoria. He checks his watch, sees it’s 3:30 PM, and tries to calculate Oscar’s arrival time in NY the following day. Just then his phone pings. It’s Oscar sending his flight information. His non-stop flight from LAX to JFK is set to depart LA at 10 AM CST and arrive in NYC at 5:30 PM EST, which Pedro calculates to be 11:30 PM in Valletta. He chuckles when he thinks about Oscar going “back to the future”. His stomach pleasantly full, Pedro walks around for several hours, taking in the scenery and chatting with locals.

By 7:30 PM he’s back in his room. He sits on the private terrace, where he reads until sunset. After a long, hot shower, he returns to the terrace, where he watches boats drift by lazily in the dark. Tiny red lights floating left, green floating right. The air has cooled considerably, but it’s still very warm. Condensation from his chilled glass of wine drips onto his bare chest. The gentle sound of water lapping against hulls and the rocky shore begins to lull Pedro to sleep. Just as he’s starting to nod off his phone rings. As he swipes right to answer he sees it’s just after 10:30 PM. Walking through the glass patio doors Pedro makes a beeline to his carryon, where he quickly retrieves the envelope Oscar gave him before his flight departed.

“Hey babe! I didn’t wake, did I?” Oscar asks in an optimistic, yet slightly embarrassed tone.

“Hey! No, you didn’t wake me. I was actually starting to doze off outside watching the boats go by,” Pedro says, his tone heavy with sleep. “But even if it was two in the morning I’d still prefer hearing your voice over sleeping,” he says through a yawn.

“If you’re too tired to talk I can call back tomorrow before my flight. I know you must be exhausted,” Oscar says softly.

“No, no!! I want to talk to you…” Pedro replies enthusiastically. “I want to talk to you until the sun comes up,” he continues gently.

“Your sun or mine?”

“Yours.”

“God, I love you so fucking much, Pedro. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You got me drunk and let me suck your cock,” Pedro laughs. “But, seriously, I’m the lucky one. After my last relationship ended via email, I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be able to open myself up to anyone again. Thank you for showing me that I’m still worthy of love.”

“You’re worthy of far more love than I’ll ever be able to give, but I’ll try my best every day to make sure you have absolutely no doubt about my feelings for you.”

“I love you too, Oscar. There aren’t enough words in any language I can speak that will ever express that enough.” Pedro pauses for a moment, content to listen to Oscar breathe for the rest of the night. “Hey, wanna open the envelopes we exchanged? I’m excited to see my mystery pictures!”

“Yeah, absolutely! I know there’s at least one goofball picture from you in this envelope, and I’m dying to see it! Wanna FaceTime? I want to see your expression when you see a few of these,” Oscar say mischievously.

Earbuds in, they reconnect via FaceTime. Oscar sits on the balcony in LA while Pedro sits on the terrace in Valletta. The sun is still high on the west coast and Pedro can hear birds chirping. The exterior light of Pedro’s terrace casts just enough brightness to allow him to see the contents of his envelope. They each preview one photo at a time, both offering a loving critique about the composition. To their mutual surprise, they discover several photos of themselves, captured from the unique perspectives of each other. They each had a single black and white cartridge, and the photos using this film are absolutely stunning, with an almost ethereal quality. Pedro soon finds the first provocative picture in his set from Oscar. The photo is a closeup of Oscar looking straight into the camera from a slight angle. Hooded eyes and a five o’clock shadow give off an air of dominance. It’s as if Oscar’s gaze goes beyond the photograph, those deep, dark eyes threatening to consume him. Those eyes that stare at Pedro, drawing him in and igniting a flame deep in his stomach. Those eyes that know Pedro burns for Oscar, and Oscar alone. A fire so intense it burns blue.

“Hmm, I see you’ve found one that’s piqued your interest. Show me,” Oscar commands softly.

Pedro obediently adjusts his camera mode and shows Oscar the photo. Pedro can see just how pleased Oscar is that he’s found this particular picture. With a twirl of his finger, Oscar motions Pedro to change the camera mode back to front facing. Oscar’s half grin, full of sinful energy, adjusts the tone of the call from light hearted to heady. The next picture Oscar finds in his stack amplifies the already palpable sexual energy. This image is a closeup of Pedro holding an old video camera, staring through the viewfinder. Just like the photo of Oscar, it seems as if Pedro is staring through the lens directly at Oscar. Oscar runs his tongue over his lips in an almost obscene way. When Pedro tells him to show the photo Oscar holds it up to his mouth, teeth biting the upper edge.

“Do you like to watch, mi Pedrito travieso?”

“Yes,” Pedro breathes softly.

“Hmm, my little voyeur. Do you *want* to watch?”

“Yes.”

“Where do you want me, mi tigre?”

“Right where you are, mi gatito.”

Angling the phone down, Oscar shifts his camera focus to rear facing. He slips his fingers beneath the edge of his belt, deftly unbuckling it with a practiced flick. Nimble fingers undo the button and ease down the zipper of his jeans, the faint sound of metal against metal breaking the silence. Folding the denim away reveals soft lilac as Oscar’s middle finger glides delicately over his boxers, up and down the length of his cock. When Pedro moans and bites his lower lip Oscar reactively increases pressure and speed.

“You’re such a tease baby. I want to *see* you,” Pedro says in a low tone.

“Tell me what you want to see,” Oscar commands.

“I want to see your hand wrapped around your thick cock, stroking it slowly, just for me.”

Setting his phone down, Oscar stands briefly and shimmies his jeans past his hips. Lying back in the patio chair, Oscar collects his phone, checking the screen for focus, before slipping his hand beneath the waistband. He begins stroking himself again, hand hidden beneath cotton. Oscar can tell Pedro’s becoming frustrated because he’s not getting his way. His eyes laser focused, he can see the flames of desire dancing in Pedro’s eyes as he eagerly watches. In his next upstroke, Oscar’s arm extends slightly, pushing the fabric away from his body. Pedro licks his lips hungrily when he finally glimpses Oscar’s cock for the first time, hooded under lilac.

“There’s my beautiful cock,” Pedro purrs when Oscar pushes his boxers down, fully exposing himself. "I can almost taste it, feel the weight of it on my tongue. Fuck. I'm starving for it."

Pedro bites his lower lip as his hand moves down his bare torso, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers. He’s already hard, and when his fingers brush over the tip of his cock it twitches in response to his touch. Pedro moans softly, his eyes rolling back with pleasure. Oscar raises an eyebrow at his disobedient lover. Not even 24 hours have gone by and Pedro has already forgotten the rules.

“Let me see those hands,” Oscar says gently, with a soft chuckle. His love, always so adorable with those full, pouty lips, purses them in mock indignation.

“I can only show you the one,” Pedro pouts as he withdraws his hand.

Those lips would be better served around my cock, Oscar thinks. He can almost feel them. "Darling, you know your happiness means everything to me, and I would do anything you ask of me, but right now, I want your unwavering attention. Let me see me see how good you can be. Daddy wants to picture those lips of yours, pink and plump, around my cock while you look at me with those irresistible puppy eyes. Can you be a good boy, mi tigre?"

Oscar groans, his hand moving up and down his length slowly, eyes dark and lustful. Soon he’s gently bucking his hips, his hand stationary, as he continues to rut into his fist. Inching closer to his release, Oscar brings the camera in close, allowing it to focus on pearly pre-cum.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum,” Pedro whispers when Oscar’s moans fill the air as he reaches his climax.

“I wish you were here to help me clean up this mess,” Oscar says with a smirk.

“Don’t tease me baby. It’s bad enough that I can’t touch you, don’t remind me I can’t taste you either.”

“I know it’s gonna be tough babe, but we’ll manage.” Oscar can hear Pedro shifting around in his chair. After a moment’s contemplation, Oscar asks, “Is it hot out there?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty warm out here tonight. Between you, and the heat, I’ve gotten all sweaty,” Pedro says with a wicked grin.

“I guess dirty boys like you need to take a shower then, wash those sins away.”

“I don’t think there’s enough water for that, mi gatito.” As Pedro begins to collect his things he asks, “Would you care to join me?”

“Do you even have to ask, mi tigre?” Oscar purrs.

“I need to get something out of my bag real quick,” Pedro says as he goes inside, closing the door behind him and turning off the outdoor light.

Moments later Pedro steps, fully clothed, into the shower, where he attaches a flexible, extended handle phone cradle to a metal bar opposite the shower head. Angling the phone, Pedro asks if Oscar can see him clearly from outside the shower doors. When Oscar says he can, Pedro steps out of the stall and proceeds to slowly undress. When he steps back in he readjusts the camera to ensure continued visibility, then turns on the water. Pedro lets the water flow over him, soaking his hair, running down his naked body in rivulets. When Pedro begins to apply body wash he’s still posting a half hard on. Pedro runs his sudsy hands over his torso, humming softly. With every downward move his hands go further and further down his body, past his belly button. His fingertips move over the very base of his member, never quite touching his growing erection.

“Hmm, do you want to touch yourself, mi tigre? Do you want to stroke that exquisite cock for me? “

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Who does that glorious cock belong to?”

“You, Daddy.”

“That’s right, mi puta, it belongs to me. I want you to imagine I’m there with you, that it’s ME who’s running the tips of my fingers up and down your shaft, feather light, until you’re fully hard.” Oscar bites his bottom lip when Pedro begins to run his middle finger along his pulsing vein. “Hmm, now I want you to grip it and stroke it slowly. Yeah, just like that, baby.”

Oscar watches Pedro masturbate for several minutes, having him alternate speed and pressure every fifteen to twenty seconds. Pedro obeys Oscar’s every command and soon feels dizzy with longing. He leans into the marble wall, resting his head on his arm. His breathing is fast and heavy, his moans reverberating against the glass walls behind him.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. Would you like to cum, darling?”

“Yes,” Pedro says, barely above a whisper. He nods his head and speaks louder, “Yes, Daddy. Can I cum for you now, please?”

“Yes.”

His head still resting against his arm, Pedro moans loudly as he paints the wall with his release. He strokes himself a few more times, his shoulders rising and falling slowly as he catches his breath. Just as he’s about to release his hold he looks at Oscar, who is shaking his head no. Clearly Oscar is not finished with Pedro just yet. Maintaining eye contact, Pedro continues to lazily stroke his cock. His moans fill the room as his soapy hand glides across his sensitive skin. Within minutes Pedro has pushed himself away from the wall, fingers flexing across slick marble as he holds himself upright. Oscar continues to direct Pedro’s tempo, which continues to alternate every fifteen to twenty seconds. Five minutes in, Pedro adjusts the temperature of the water, letting it run a little cooler. He returns his hand to the wall and lays his forehead against the cool stone.

“God Pedro, you’re exquisite when you’re on the edge like this, threading the line between composure and coming completely undone.”

This time Pedro doesn’t wait for permission. He can’t; by the tenth minute he’s lost all control. His orgasm comes without warning, expelling the air from his lungs. His knees buckle beneath him and he slides limply to the floor.

“Pedro? Pedro!” Oscar shouts from almost seven thousand miles away. He’s not felt this helpless in a long time. When Pedro finally raises a shaky hand into the air Oscar realizes he’d been holding his breath.

“I’m ok, I’m ok,” Pedro whispers, his hand still above his head, body shaking. “I just kinda… I dunno. I didn’t pass out,” Pedro speaks slowly, regaining his senses. “I guess between exhaustion and jet lag I overdid it a little,” Pedro says, shaking his head.

“Fuck, Pedro, I’m so sorry. I just got so caught up in the moment. I didn’t even think about—“

"It’s ok, babe! Really, I’m fine. I thought I could do it. And I did it! I just didn’t realize quite how much energy it would take.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard,” Oscar says softly as Pedro moves to the bedroom to get dressed for bed.

“Stop it, Oscar. Let’s just chalk this up to a learning experience. The next time we do this we’ll be better prepared. I honestly had the water way too hot and I’ve not been drinking much water today.” Oscar nods his understanding, but Pedro can tell he’s not satisfied. “It’s almost midnight here. Let me go brush my teeth, and we’ll just talk for a little while.”

“I’d like that, mi Pedrito.”

After Pedro brushes his teeth, he plugs in his phone into the charger and lays it on the nightstand as he turns his bed down. Once he’s all settled he adjusts the phone so that he can see Oscar clearly. Pedro tells him about his flight, the hotel and about talking to the locals after dinner. Before long he can barely keep his eyes open. Oscar sings him to sleep with a Spanish lullaby.

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

Act IV: The Strain of Being Apart

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

Slowly, but surely, they find their rhythm and communication seems easier. Soon they’re talking a few nights a week and texting daily. Once they resume video chats, they try to do them at least once every few weeks, just to see each other’s faces. Neither of them brings up the fainting incident. In the six weeks that follow, however, they both become incredibly busy. Pedro is on set 60-80 hours a week and Oscar performs on stage six nights a week in Manhattan. Finding the time for general conversation is hard enough, but finding time to be intimate together is almost impossible. They find their schedules no longer sync most days, so when Oscar calls Pedro on Sunday, August 25, it’s a pleasant surprise. As it happened, they both had the day off.

“Hey you! God, it feels like forever since we’ve spoken. I miss you so much!” Pedro laments.

“Hey, babe! I miss you too. I can’t believe it’s been three weeks since we last spoke. These schedules suck! I’ll be glad when you’re back home.”

“Me too. This production has been exhausting. How’s the play going?”

“It’s going really great! The reviews are strong and audience attendance is high. They’re talking about adding another three weeks to the run. If they do, we should both be wrapping up around the same time. You can fly directly into JFK and come to the apartment. I’ve been doing some work in one of the upstairs units.”

“That’s great! I really miss theater work,” Pedro sighs. “What kind of work are you doing in the apartment?”

“It’s a surprise, but I think you’ll really like it. I did some demo work and removed a few non-load bearing walls, added a few new walls, redid the flooring and added a new coat of paint. The furniture should be arriving in a few weeks. I’m having a few pieces custom built.”

“Oh? What are you having built? Chairs? Cabinets? Tables?” Pedro asks curiously.

“All of the above, actually,” Oscar chuckles after a brief pause. He’s itching to tell Pedro about the new room, well, floor actually. But he wants to see the look of surprise on his face when he first learns about it, so he holds his tongue. “How’s production coming along?”

“If I’m being perfectly honest, it’s a compete shit show, man. We’re getting rewrites every other day. He’s not rewritten the characters… yet, but the dialogue and setup keeps changing. I’m just about at my wits end. I know they’re saying we should still wrap on time, but the way things are going, it’ll be a miracle if we do.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize it had gotten that bad, babe, I’m sorry. I know it’s a long shot, but is there anything I can do?” Oscar asks, feeling a little helpless.

“You can come kidnap me,” Pedro laughs. “But no, there’s not much that can be done. Just gotta grin and bear it, then vow to never work with this guy again. I’ve been walking around the city to help clear my head. It helps a lot. I’m actually coming back from walking around some ruins right now. This place has some amazing architecture.”

“That sounds really nice. If you’re not completely turned off to the area by time you leave, maybe we can visit and be obnoxious tourists,” Oscar laughs.

“I’d actually like that a lot, Oscar. This place is very old world romantic. I think you’d like it.”

“Where are you?” Oscar asks, catching bits of conversations in the background.

“I’m passing by a few of the local shops on my way back to the hotel. Should be there in about ten minutes or so.”

By the time Pedro gets back to his room it’s just after 9 PM local time, 3 PM in New York. Pedro takes off his shoes, grabs a bottle of water and puts in his now charged Air Pods.

“I know it’s still super early there, but it’s just after 9 here, and I have an early day on set tomorrow. Do you mind if I call you back in about 30 minutes, after I shower and get ready for bed? I’m sure you’re just dying to hear me brush my teeth.”

“Of course, darling. Take your time. I’m gonna run down to the corner store and grab a few things.”

When Pedro calls Oscar back, Oscar is on the roof playing the guitar Pedro got him for his birthday.

“What are you playing?” Pedro asks softly. “It sounds beautiful.”

“Our song,” Oscar answers with a contented sigh.

“That song brings back some very nice memories. That was honestly one of the best birthdays I’ve had as an adult.” Pedro pauses briefly. “Fuck, mi gatito, I can’t stand being without you. Not being able to touch you… to taste you… to feel the weight of your body against mine. I dream about you every night. When I wake up, the desperate longing I feel for you… it’s like a deep, throbbing pain. It gnaws, it aches.” His breath quickening, he continues, “these dreams, they’re so vivid, so intense. When I move under the covers, the feel of the sheets against my skin, the way they glide over my chest, my stomach, my cock, reminds me of you. And, god, it makes me so fucking hard. It’s all I can do to restrain myself. I’m trying so hard to be good for you, Daddy, but I don’t know how much longer I can last. I’ve wanted to feel an intimate touch so badly, especially these last two weeks. I can’t tell you how many cold showers I’ve had to take in just the past 72 hours,” Pedro says, his voice heavy with desire.

“Why didn’t you say something, mi tigre? Our games are meant to deepen our bond, not to cause you anguish,” Oscar consoles him gently. “Why don’t you sit on the bed and get comfortable, baby. Let Daddy take care of you.”

Oscar puts his guitar away and lies on the reclining chaise. He can hear Pedro turning down his bed, followed by his clothes brushing against the sheets. It takes several minutes for Pedro to get comfortable. Oscar knows this is just Pedro’s nerves, because the room they put him in is way too nice to have a lumpy bed.

“I feel like I’m in “The Princess and the Pea”. I just can’t get comfortable,” Pedro grumbles in frustration, finally achieving a modicum of comfort as he leans against the headboard. He shuffles around a little more before finally settling in.

“Has anyone ever told you how sexy you sound when you’re grumpy, mi Pedrito?” Oscar says in a low, flirtatious, tone. “Tell me, you sexy, grumpy thing, what are you wearing?”

“No one has ever told me that, but I like it,” Pedro chuckles. “I’m wearing your favorite Henley, the one you say you want to rip off me, with your teeth, every time I wear it. And the silk tiger print boxers you got me for Christmas.”

“Hmm, and where are your hands?”

“Where do you want them to be, Daddy?”

“In my hair, pulling it tightly while my lips are wrapped around your cock,” Oscar quips, his voice dripping with lust. “But since I can’t have that, I want you to run your hand slowly up and down your thigh. As your fingers move closer, I want them to slip under the leg of your boxers, and as they move away I want your thumb to graze over your shaft.”

Pedro obediently, and eagerly, obeys his lover’s commands. The first time his thumb grazes his member it twitches and a low moan fills the silence. His breath quickly becomes shallow as he continues stroking his thigh. The feel of cool silk against his cock, combined with the gentle pressure of his thumb, makes him almost instantly hard and his moans grow louder.

“You sound like such a pretty little whore when you moan like that. Are you a little whore, my pet?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m your little whore. Your little cock slut. I’ll do whatever you want me to do, be whoever you want me to be.”

“I want you to keep making those beautiful sounds for me.” Silently sliding his right hand under the waist of his jeans and boxers, Oscar runs his fingers delicately over his sleeping cock, which responds immediately to his touch. He listens to Pedro moan for a full minute, his own fingers never stopping, before he speaks again. “Reach in through the fly of your boxers and let that magnificent tiger out of his cage. Graze the pad of your middle finger over the tip of your cock, then gently trace along the throbbing, pulsing line. Imagine it’s my finger teasing you with each pass along your sensitive skin.” His own moan escaping his lips, Oscar whispers, “purr for me, mi tigre. Mewl and whimper as the heat in the pit of your stomach begins to pulse and radiate from your core.”

Pedro continues to move his finger achingly slow up and down his cock, over his flushed head. The air in the room has started to cool, making the touch of his fingers like fire. He breathes slowly, deeply, trying to control the tremors emanating from his center. Had Oscar not been guiding him, he’d have tipped over the edge within moments of starting. But he loves making Daddy happy, because Daddy loves to praise him when he’s been good. And Pedro adores the praise, he finds it almost as rewarding as the release. Almost. Suddenly a FaceTime notification appears. Pedro answers and is immediately greeted by the sight of Oscar licking his lips in that fantastically obscene way he does at the sight of his pet trying desperately to maintain control over himself. Oscar knows this gesture drives Pedro wild.

“Fuck, oh my god,” Pedro pants, his eyes locked on Oscar’s lips and flickering tongue. “Can I wrap my hand around my cock, Daddy? Can I feel the pressure and heat from my palm as I stroke it for you?”

“Yes, mi tigre. Wrap your hand around my cock, as tight as you can stand it, and stroke it slowly for me, baby. If you continue to be good, I’ll let you cum for me.” Oscar begins stroking himself faster, biting his glistening bottom lip. “To witness your surrender to bliss, to behold the exquisite rupture where tranquility yields to tumultuous ecstasy, it’s what I live for, darling.”

Oscar quietly guides Pedro to push himself to the edge of no return, before skillfully reeling him back, just in time. It's a delicate balance on the precipice, being tugged back at the eleventh hour, only to be thrust forward again and again. As soon as Pedro catches his breath, Oscar propels him back to the brink once more. Each time sends his heart racing, heightening the tension with every repetition. Secretly, Pedro cherishes this thrilling dance on the knife’s edge. Oscar’s masterful brinkmanship has become one of Pedro’s guilty pleasures. Before they know it, twenty minutes have passed, and Pedro is past the point of coherent speech at this point.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Do you want to go faster?” Pedro nods eagerly. “That’s my good boy,” Oscar praises as Pedro slowly builds up his speed. It took a few months for Pedro to really learn the gradual increase. As soon as he’d be given permission he’d immediately run full speed. He’d reach his climax faster, but it wouldn’t be as intense. Once Pedro mastered the gradual speed adjustment he found he could draw out his orgasm that much longer. Starting to overheat, Pedro props his phone up on the dresser and quickly removes his shirt. When he goes to retrieve the phone, Oscar tells him to adjust the angle slightly and leave it on the dresser. Over the next half hour, Pedro tenderly caresses himself, in an attempt at coaxing comfort from his cock in lieu of missing Oscar’s physical touch. To ensure Pedro doesn’t cum too soon, he alters both the speed and pressure of his ministrations, all while Oscar lavishes him with his favorite praising words. By now, Oscar has become very well attuned to Pedro’s tells, and when Pedro bites his fist, Oscar knows it’s time to bring their session to an end.

“You’ve been purring so beautifully for me, mi tigre. Are you ready to roar?” Pedro immediately, and vigorously, nods his head. He turns onto his back, turning his head to face Oscar, eagerly awaiting his Pavlovian bell. “Cum for me,” Oscar whispers. With those three simple words Pedro lets himself go, plummeting over the precipice and submitting to the well earned pleasure of his orgasm. Completely spent, but so incredibly satisfied, Pedro takes a moment to catch his breath, licking his fingers hungrily, before guiding Oscar through his own release.

#a series of firsts #asof #latino space sisters #p&o #pedro pascal #space sisters #oscar isaac

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nevermore-grimes · 1 month

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Random Fun Facts About Nevermore!!! 🔥

Nevermore didn’t choose the hero name “Ember Blade”. The media gave it to her after she debuted in her new costume (which was made and given to her by Shuri).

When Nevermore’s patrolling or on missions, she’ll wear a binder. She still identifies as a cisgender female. She just prefers to give off a more “masculine” aura while fighting bad guys. So, bye bye, boobies!

Nevermore has three tattoos. One is a sleeve of fire from her elbow to her arm (one appears on each Elemental being once their powers manifest), then she has a ring of element icons around the upper part of her other arm (each representing one of The Elemental Four), and her biggest one is a burning phoenix by her clavicle (pretty much, on her boob). The phoenix carries a tattered piece of paper with her moms’ names on it (She had it done when she believed one of them was dead).

Nevermore and Loki had their first kiss in a prison. Relationship goalsss!

Five years after Nevermore’s first leather jacket tore in a battle against her father, Aerith bought her a new one. The first one was plain black, but the new one is studded on the shoulders and has a painted burning phoenix on the back.

I wanted to add more, but I can’t think, and I don’t wanna make this list crazy overwhelming. So, if I think of any more, I’ll make a part two!

Also, I’m hoping to do more of these silly little lists for more of my paras, so let’s hope my brain keeps working! 😅

#parame: Nevermore #paraportal #para portal #madd #maladaptive daydreams #maladaptive daydreamer #maladaptive daydreaming #paracosm

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angel-inked · 1 year

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When they listen to music

Where words fail, music speaks 🎶

*This took longer to write than I expected 😅, but enjoy*

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @inkwolvesandcoffee @potter-solomons @liliac-dreamer

3AM.

There's something therapeutic about the wee hours of the morning. It's like listening to music in a dark room at midnight. Feeling like you're the only person awake in the world, like everything is at a standstill. Tommy has been roaming the streets of Pittsburgh since 3AM, with his army green massager bag slung over his shoulder. The insomnia didn't help.

He figured the cause of it to probably be paranoia, whether it came from his time in Iraq or from Paddy's alcohol fueled mood swings was hard to say. That's how he got that split his eyebrow. Shortly after he turned sixteen, he was minding his own business when Paddy whipped around and punched him. He remembers waking up in a hospital bed to the sound of his mother's crying. That was the first and last time one of Paddy's beatings sent somebody to the emergency room. Tommy fled with his mom soon thereafter.

His dad's wedding ring was what cut into him, he figured, stitchs cause the bleeding wouldn't stop. He scratched at the scar, hell, just thinking about it, made it itch. Pressing the volume rocker on his phone to turn the music in his headphones up a notch, a vague attempt to take his mind off of his father. He had a vice of keeping his headphones in, even if he was being spoken to. Heh, mom always told him off for that...

It relaxed him.. to a degree. Sitting on a bench, staring out at the water of the Allegheny River, no one around, music in his ears. The sun was just barely on the horizon. People would be flooding the streets soon, and thus, his serenity would be ruined, but for now, he was peaceful.

Let's dance!!!

"So, what culinary delights will tickle the pickle tonight?" Eddie Brock asked into what looked like an empty apartment, and got no answer, except a dark snicker in the back of his head, in a voice that wasn't his own. "Not like that, you perverted para-" Venom forced Eddie's mouth shut, producing inky black tendrils from Eddie's back to help rifle through the kitchen cupboards.

Eddie sighed, realizing he'd have to go grocery shopping soon. "What is this?" The symbiote asked, holding a box in front of their host. "Mac and cheese," Eddie answered, "that'll do." He added, reaching over to turn on the radio before he began searching for a pot to boil water in. Not the end of the world by Katy Perry came on, and Eddie started to sing along to it.

"It's not the end of the world, no, not the end of the world. Throw on your fancy attire, fears in the fire. Don't lose hope"

Venom materialized their head, floating just behind Eddie, turning on the stove top with helpful tentacles.

"A fortune teller told me the power's in your mind. You might see a cliff, but I see a way to fly. Flipping off the flop, now I just enjoy the ride, just enjoy the world. Yeah, I just enjoy the ride"

Eddie continued his singing as he hauled himself up on the edge of the counter to wait for the water, swinging his legs back and forth to amuse himself. Venom bobbed their head to the beat and swayed their tentacles to the rhythm.

"You can make a wish even on a satellite, on a plastic lash or anything you like! You can tame a dragon if you're not afraid to fight, not afraid to fight, no, not afraid"

Eddie smiled, hopping off the counter and into a full body spin as he joined Venom's spur of the moment dance.

"It's no funeral we're attending, actually, just the beginning. Throw on your fancy attire, fears in the fire. Don't lose hope!"

As the song faded out, Eddie and Venom shared a laugh. Suddenly, the pair of unlikely partners heard a hissing sound, "Oh shit!" Eddie exclaimed, rushing over to the stove as the water boiled over. Immediately regretting his decision to grab the pot lid without a potholder. "Ow!" He yelped, thankful Vemon was in a good mood today as the burning sensation dissipated quickly. Vemon adjusted the lid before looking down at Eddie's crumpled position on the floor, leaning back against the floor level cupboards, "idiot." Vemon's voice rumbled.

Eddie scoffed, "Yeah, you could say that again!".

Opera debacle

"Yeah, but opera's not fuckin' singin' is it!" Alfie exclaimed. Your husband has been rattling on for.. You're not actually sure, a couple hours at least, and Tommy Shelby looks about done with him. Then again, when is he not?

"It's not singing. It is the sound that people make before words." Alfie sounds like he's arguing with someone, but he's the only one speaking. Lizzie Shelby looked at you from her chair, confusion etched into her features. You were surprised when Tommy showed up with his wife on his arm, him claiming that she wished to meet you in person, not that you had any qualms about her. It just wasn't often Tommy was accompanied by anyone other than his brothers.

Lizzie hadn't met Alfie until now, probably for good reason, if you asked Tommy. Judging by that look she was giving you over her cuppa, this was not what she expected. You leaned toward her, "Let him go," you whispered, "he'll run out of puff or get to whatever Tommy came for sooner or later." You smiled quietly. Tommy, on the other hand, quietly smoked his cigarette on the couch as he waited for Alfie to get to the actual point of the meeting.

"I always knew opera was just a bunch of fat people fucking shouting!" Alfie exclaimed, pulling the needle off the record and effectively silencing the gramophone. He moved to one side of the room, glaring at the floor. Finally, he went back to his seat.

Groaning as he sat down, resting his chin on a closed fist for a moment, "Bah!" He griped, waving off nobody. "Are you done, dear?" You asked, beginning to think maybe you should have let your spouse wake up naturally instead of waking him up yourself, considering how grumpy he's been since then. Alfie stared at you, scrunching up his face with a soft grumble.

"Am I done? Done with fuckin' what?" He questioned, throwing his hands up in confusion.

Songbird.

Garden trowel in hand, you covered the last of the seeds you had in hand with earth. You crossed your ankles for support as you straightened and popped your back, sighing with satisfaction at the feeling as tiredness set in. You and your fiancé had been planting all day, "you alright love?" Farrier asked, kissing the top of your head before kneeling next to you.

"Just tired," you smiled, "lot of work this, but it's worth it.". "Aye," Farrier agreed, finishing off his cigarette. A smirk appeared on his face, "I know how to make this more fun." He explained. "How?" You asked, slightly concerned about what he had in mind. "singing," he suggested. "Sing what?" You giggled. "Dunno." He smiled back at you.

Farrier stood, making his way over to the water tap, connecting the hose. You heard him start singing lowly to himself, something in french that you couldn't understand. "Is that a war song?" You questioned with a smile on your face. "In a way, more for ceremonies and the like." He explained. Farrier continued his song, like a songbird sat on the windowsill early in the morning, soaking in the golden rays of the sun and singing its juaty toon given way to dawn. You were more than content to lose yourself in the sound of the voice of your loved one.

Rock n' Roll

Forrest had always been the odd man out when it came to music taste. Howard and Jack just about always had bluegrass or country on the radio, Howard even listened to swing when the urge struck him. Sure, Forrest is not really a jazz man, and he liked bluegrass and country well enough. It's what he was raised on after all, but rock ballads are more his speed and occasionally some classical.

Slow and rhythmic, in a word, relaxing. Forrest didn't often give the old record player in his office the time of day, but when he did, like right now, it's probably best off you leave him alone. As this usually meant it had been a hard day, and he had no interest in being bothered, as Howard and Jack found out the hard way, as usual.

That was probably why Howard was currently standing in front of you in the small, dimly lit hallway. Giving you a very puzzled look with his somewhat brushy eyebrows looking like they were desperate to touch each other. "Where are you goin'?" He asked, eyeing the pair of iced glasses, bottle of bourbon, and the book you were holding. "Forrest' office." You replied simply, trying to sidestep past the eldest brother. Howard stepped in front of you, his tall 6'1" figure looming over you.

He glanced over his shoulder at the door his previously mentioned younger brother was behind, "I'm not so sure that's the best place to be headed right now." He explained, scratching the back of his neck. "He's expecting me, now move out of the way!" You grumbled, slightly annoyed with him. You were tired and It's been a long day for everyone, but luckily for Howard, you have a bit more patience than Forrest does.

Howard finally allowed you to pass and disappeared into the barroom. You pushed open the door, Forrest looked up at you as you shut the door behind you. You sat one of the icey glasses down in front of him, pouring the bourbon you knew to be a favorite of his. "Thank you." Forrest mumbled, turning back to his ledger. "You're welcome." You smiled, filling your own glass before sitting down across from Forrest and opening your book.

The slow rock and roll pumping out of the record player was the only source of sound in the room as Forrest continued his work, and you enjoyed your book and drink. The both of you quietly enjoying each other's company after a hard day's work, with some lovely music in the background that you both enjoy.

#when they listen to music #tommy conlon warrior #eddie brock/venom symbiote #alfie solomons peaky blinders #farrier dunkirk #forrest bondurant fic #tom hardy #hope you enjoy #Farrier's is a little bit shorter 😅 but it turned out nice #Forrest and his s/o relaxing after a long day and enjoying their sheared taste in music is 🤌

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