#I like to imagine he's an incredibly good chef
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Since we know Gale is The Party Chef™️I wondered what his cooking looked like.
And now, it's time for:
Does Gale go all-out cooking with his own portable kitchen station?
What if he's chill about it/grills like a dad at a cookout?
Maybe he's going crazy in the camp kitchen with magic like cooking things with fireball.
Or, you know, he could just cook the mundane way without any magic at all. But that was too borning to draw tbh.
#Gale of Waterdeep#Gale Dekarios#BG3#Baldur's Gate 3#my art#nabexis art#comic#shitposting#I like to imagine he's an incredibly good chef#But these popped into my head while I was doing some practice drawings of Gale#Gale BG3#Gale Baldur's gate 3#Edited to save space on the dash
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Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons
As much as dear Lucy and reader enjoyed themselves in this headcanon post, I can't help but imagine such activities might lead to Charlie become a big sister, so I put some headcanons together for such a situation. I know that Sinners can't get pregnant as canon currently stands, so I typically employ either the Rules of Fanfic or I imagine reader is a living human that ended up in Hell through magic shenanigans (will elaborate with a prompt post once I've got the spoons), though of course you're free to imagine them as Hellborn or whatever suits your fancy!
Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Implied Smut
- He's insistent you see the Royal Physician as soon as you start experiencing symptoms, but he's not at all prepared for the diagnosis you bring back, and he might need you to repeat it a few dozen times. You're pregnant? With a baby? And it's his? He put a baby in you? You're going to have his baby? An actual baby? He's going to be a dad again?! So goes the conversation for a good ten or so minutes, and suffice to say he's far from calm once the news finally does sink in. Given that the two of you had assumed that an angel and a mortal couldn't reproduce, this is more than an unexpected surprise, and Lucifer knows all too well how much of a fuss this will create from Hell's lowest ring all the way up to Heaven. That's to say nothing of how Charlie might take the news...
- Once the initial panic fades, after a solid hour or so, he gathers himself and focuses on setting a course of action. A very important decision needs to be made. He says it's up to you, but upon being asked what he'd like to do, the King of Hell surprises himself and answers without hesitation that he'd love to have this baby with you. He's surprised because he knows better than anyone that it will be challenging, but he can't deny how much he wants it regardless. Having Charlie was the greatest thing he'd ever done, and the thought of another little bundle makes his heart swell in ways he can barely describe, but ultimately he'll support whatever decision you make. Carrying a half-Archangel is no easy feat... Hearing that you want the same and intend to carry through is enough to make him lift you clear off the ground in a spinning airborne embrace, wings fluttering like a hummingbird as he breaks out into a celebratory musical number or two. He can't wait to be a dad all over again!
- If you thought he pampered you before, you were wrong. He doubles the amount of servants at your call, ensures there's always a physician available at a moment's notice, and hires a full team of chefs to cook whatever you might crave at any hour of the day. From beginning to end, he doesn't want you to want for anything, and the man knows a thing or two about spoiling, and he goes all out to ensure you're surrounded by comfort at all times. That's to say nothing of his own personal dedication to more or less worshiping your existence. Even the tiniest indication of pain or discomfort has him leaping to your assistance. Backrub? Footrub? Full body massage? You name it, he's quite happy to provide. If it wasn't such a cliche he'd be rather happy to feed you grapes from a golden platter. His efforts are borne from the deep sense of pride he feels every time he looks at you and thinks of how incredible it is that he's with you, that you're carrying his child, and that the two of you are bringing something quite wonderful and unique into existence. Said pride fully extends to the public view, where he doesn't hesitate to show you off and humbly brag to anyone that will listen about the news.
- You'll also find that as protective as he was before, he doesn't even hesitate to get his fangs out now, not that many in Hell are stupid enough to mess with the King's beloved. He expects you to be treated with the highest levels of respect, and if he can't accompany you somewhere, he'll insist on an armed escort to keep you safe. This fear isn't completely unfounded, as there are some willing to risk everything for an upper hand on Lucifer, but he's got ample experience keeping the opportunists at bay. He did the same when Lilith was expecting Charlie.
- Speaking of Charlie, the only thing that gives him any kind of hesitation is his fear that she might take the news poorly. Though she took your relationship well, what if she isn't thrilled about a younger sibling? With their relationship so recently repaired, he fears she might worry about being replaced or pushed aside, and he doesn't know how to reassure her that nothing will ever make him love her less. Thankfully, with her boundless kindness and eternally upbeat personality, the Princess of Hell puts his worries to rest as soon as she gets the news. In fact, she reacts much the same way her father did; a massive hug and a delighted musical number, albeit with far more happy sobbing. She promises through tears that she'll be the best big sister Hell has ever seen, and that she simply can't wait.
#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer imagine#lucifer x reader#lucifer fluff#lucifer headcanons#hazbin x reader#x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin imagine#hazbin fluff#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel imagine#pregnancy#charlie morningstar
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might as well be drunk in love
*part two to lovelorn and nobody knows*
part one
warnings: mentions of a panic attack
It had been four and a half months since you left The Bear behind. Despite being so heartbroken over the what happened, you made yourself get up each day. There wasn’t time to let the sadness consume you. You had to move on.
Your dream one day was to open your own restaurant and you couldn’t do that if you were wallowing.
Part of you wanted to cut everyone off for the fresh start that you so desperately wanted. But it wasn’t their fault that you were heartbroken.
Plus, Tina would kick your ass if you stopped talking to her.
So, you kept up with everyone. Minus Carmen. It was just easier this way. The others mentioned him a couple of times and you’d noticed that it got easier and easier to hear his name without it hurting you.
You kept yourself busy with work and maintaining friendships that you built at The Bear while also making new ones. You tried so very hard to keep that tattooed blue-eyed man out of your mind.
The restaurant that you were a sous chef now wasn’t as flashy as The Bear had turned out to be. It still had that family-like style that you liked.
You still followed the same habits that you had at The Bear. So, you grabbed your coat and headed outside for your break. It was around 6:30. You liked to have some calming moments before the dinner rush.
When you stepped out the back door to the alley, you were stunned to see Carmen standing there leaning against the wall.
You both just stood there for a few seconds not saying anything. You wondered if you were truly losing it. If he was just a figment of your imagination.
“Hey.” He said snapping you out of your thoughts. He looked good like always. He was wearing his classic blue jeans, plain white tee and an olive bomber jacket. His hair was haphazardly styled but still looked incredible.
“What are you doing here?”
“I figured you still followed the same break time.”
“How did you know where I worked?”
“Syd told me. Well, I uh, I begged her to tell me. I didn’t know if you’d answer my calls. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“About?”
“Why you really left the restaurant. I asked everyone when you left for a reason why. They didn’t know. Or they just didn’t want to tell me.”
“I already told you why I left.”
“Yeah? Well I don’t believe you, (Y/n).”
“I don’t have time for this.” You started to walk away but Carmen quickly moved in front of you. He blocked the back door.
“You practically ignored me the last two weeks you were there. You didn’t answer my calls and stopped texting me. Was it- did I make you uncomfortable?”
“No!” You quickly answered.
“Then what was it? I’ve been drivin’ myself crazy tryin’ to figure out why you left.”
“Because I’m in love with you!” You wanted to scream out.
Carmen froze. “You’re what?”
Shit. Looks like you actually did say it out loud.
“Uh, I didn’t mean-“
“Wait, you left because you have feelings for me?”
“Please forget that I said that. I didn’t mean it and I- I know that you’re-“ you felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. You couldn’t believe that you’d blurted out that you were in love with Carmen to him.
“Hey. Hey, take a deep breath.” You felt Carmen cup your face between his hands. His face was so close to yours if you leaned up, your lips would be on his.
Carmen breathed in deeply with you, held it for four seconds and then exhaled. The breathing technique normally worked for you but it helped how close in proximity he was. His touch alone put you at ease.
You were more completely overwhelmed instead of having a panic attack. You knew the difference. The embarrassment of having told Carmen that you were in love with him made you just want to fall out.
“Are you okay?” He asked softly after a few moments.
“No, I’m mortified.”
You heard him chuckle, “That’s a first for me. I’ve never had someone say they’re mortified with being in love with me.”
Taking a step back, you removed yourself from his grasp. In that moment, you’d forgotten that he was spoken for. He had a girlfriend. It was inappropriate to be so wrapped up.
“I shouldn’t have said that. You’re with Claire and I respect relationships.”
“(Y/n)-“
“No, you shouldn’t be here. You should be with your girlfriend and I have to get back to work.”
Carmen raised his voice, “(Y/n)!” He stepped closer to you again, “Claire and I broke up.”
“What?”
“After you left, I, uh, I took it really hard. I don’t know if Sydney told you.”
You shook your head, “I told them I didn’t want to hear anything about…you. Or Claire for that matter.”
“I didn’t want to really interact with anyone. Even more than usual. I missed having you around and-and our talks during our break. You always put me in a good fuckin’ mood just by your presence. Sometimes when things were stressful as fuck, I’d look over at you, and-and you’d smile at me and-“
“And what?” He literally had you hanging on every word.
“And I knew that everything would be okay.” He answered looking deeply into your eyes, “When Claire confronted me about how I’d been actin’, I realized then that what we had it wasn’t how it should be.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should get those fuckin’ butterflies that people always talk about. I should be at ease when she’s around. I should be able to sit in silence with her but things not be so damn awkward. It should be comfortable. It should be like how I feel with you.” Carmen finished.
What a turn of events this conversation had turned out to be. One minute, you thought he was some illusion and the next he was practically confessing that he had feelings for you too.
“You have feelings for me?”
Carmen nodded, “It took me to realize it when you walked out of The Bear for the last time. I was scared that I’d never see you again. I gave you space because I thought that’s what you wanted. But, I’m crazy in love with you. I didn’t want to not tell you how I feel.”
“I’m glad you did tell me. I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to tell you.”
“I wish you would’ve. I feel like we wasted a lot of time where we could’ve been together.”
“And what would we be doing if we were together?” You confidently took a step closer to him again. He was close enough to kiss.
Carmen smiled, “Well, first, I’d grab you here,” he placed his hands on your waist pulling you towards his body, “then, I’d lift up your chin lightly,” he did so.
His face tilted down towards you, “and then I’d kiss you.”
When he finally pressed his lips against yours, the world around you went silent. In that damn moment, you didn’t even remember your name.
You didn’t care that it was freezing outside. You didn’t care that you were most likely past your fifteen minutes on your break. You just cared that Carmen Berzatto was kissing you.
The back door opened and you heard your friend and the pastry chef call your name, “(Y/n)? Do you always make out with strangers on your break?”
This made the both of you laugh. “I have to get back inside.”
“Can I come and pick you up afterwards? I want to see you again tonight.” Carmen asked after he kissed you softly one last time.
“I get out around 10. Don’t be a minute late, Berzatto.”
“I wouldn’t dare be late.”
#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you#the bear x reader#the bear imagine#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto
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nifty redesign
(click for better quality)
thoughts under the cut
ok so!!
-my nifty backstory is a bit less fleshed out so stay with me here
-she was an aspiring science fiction writer born in japan late 1940's
-unfortunatly she never got to live out her dream as she was married off into a mafia family at 15
-this may have been the mafia family angel dust belonged to ☺️
-neither of them know this☺️☺️
-from then on she was whitewashed and essentially brainwashed into the perfect housewife
-if she disobeyed she got hit, so she did what she was told- until one day it got too much for her. she snapped, and murdered her husband in her sleep
-this got her sent into a mental asylum where she got diagnosed with hysteria and lobotomised
-she died soon after
-despite the murder reasonably being in self defence, murder is still classified as a Damning Sin in heaven's eyes and she got sent down to hell
-she is obsessed with neatness and incredibly hardworking. she will often work herself to the point of exhaustion, in which case alastor will step in and communicate her worries for her - she never complains, doing so makes her feel useless
-her obsessive tidying has led to finding loads of Banned Objects in guest's rooms
-she is the hotel's maid, chef, waitress, gardener, pest control, room attendant and accountant. they are severely understaffed
-alastor is her best and only friend. he is the only one that listens to her odd ramblings (speaking of odd ramblings, the stuff she says would be less "i like to kill bugs murder death X3" and more,, just odd facts and weird sayings and fucked up things that happened in her life but like,, sugarcoated. like shes trying to convince herself that they were good-kinda like kitty from ghosts abt her sister). she spies for him, it is pretty easy for her to go unnoticed due to her small stature. nothing goes unheard that alastor doesnt hear about
-her and alastor sometimes just go for walks together, with her perched on his arm like a falcon. i imagine a side plot of an episode being them taking one of their walks when they come across a sinner trying to move out of the pride ring, they try to help him hijinks ensue ect ect
-she isnt in it for the money, which is good bc shes not paid much
okii thats it :33
#halfway house art#halfway house rewrites#hazbin critical#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel redesign#hazbin hotel rewrite#hazbin hotel criticism#vivsiepop critical#niffty#nifty hazbin hotel#hazbin nifty#hazbin niffty#niffty redesign#nifty
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Girl or Boy? (HC)
Fandom: Obey Me
Pairing: All x fem!Reader. Minus Luke.
Warning: None.
Prompt: Would he prefer a girl or a boy?
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Prologue:
“I was watching a game show today, and one of the questions was very interesting,” you said as you glanced at him. He stopped what he was doing and looked at you curious, assuming you were going to tell him the question.
“I want to ask you the same question,” You smiled and sat up straight. “You have to choose one, and both or either is not an option.”
His curiosity piqued more. Slowly, you repeated the question from the game show, “When you have a child, do you hope it’s a boy or a girl?”
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Without hesitation, Lucifer says, “Girl.”
He has spent most of his life raising his brothers and knows how much of a handful boys can be.
Lucifer prefers a girl so that he can spoil and pamper her like the princess she is.
“Do I gotta choose?” Mammon mumbled.
He thought about it for a bit and said, “Girl.”
Mammon wants to spoil her to no end, and she wants to make her feel like the most precious person in the world. He wants to take her shopping, give her hugs, and most of all, he wants her to look like you, his most precious treasure.
“Girl!”
Levi got excited about designing pretty cosplay dresses for his daughter. He could even dress her up like Ruri-Chan.
He also imagined holding her close to his chest as they slept in his cozy bathtub bed, as you watched them with a warm smile. Just the thought of it was enough to make him blush.
"Girl."
Satan doesn't care what the gender of his child is, but he is a bit frightened that his son will turn out to have anger issues like him. He doesn't want that for his son or even his daughter.
Besides, he thinks there are too many men in the House of Lamentation.
“Of course, girl!”
Asmo wants to dress her up, do her hair, makeup, and nails, see her start dating, gossip about boys/girls she is interested in, and eventually see her find her true love. And maybe if she is interested, he will teach her how to be a model from a young age.
Just like some of his brothers, he thinks there are too many men in HoL.
Beel hesitates to answer the question, but after thinking for a while, he says, “Boy.”
He doesn’t mind having a little princess, but he wants a son who is as strong as him. He wants someone to protect his family in case something happens to him.
Beel wants to teach his son to be yours as well as his brothers’ shield, just like he is.
Belphie seems a little uncomfortable at first, but the more he thinks, he smiles and says, “Girl.”
Belphie thinks boys can be too much of a handful and doesn’t want to spend as much energy looking after one. Most of all, he wants a girl so that he can remember all the good times he had with Lilith. He will never see his daughter as a replacement for his sister, but he will take care of her just as much as he took care of Lilith.
Diavolo decides to be honest with you, "I want a girl, but for the sake of Devildom, I prefer a boy."
As a ruler, he needs a male heir to continue their family's rule in Devildom. Personally, he doesn't see a problem with a female ruling Devildom, but the demons aren't that open-minded yet.
If he didn't have to choose according to Devildom's tradition, he wants a girl so that he can spoil her as much as possible. Diavolo would be the type of father who would get everything for his daughter even before she asks for it.
"Boy," he says without hesitation.
He needs someone to continue watching over Diavolo's family just like he is. In the future, if anything were to happen to him, he could at least rest easy knowing that his son would take care of everything in his stead.
He would also make sure his son would be just as much of an incredible chef as he is.
"Girl," Simeon says after thinking a bit.
He, too, doesn't mind either gender, but technically he is taking care of Luke and could be seen as Luke's older brother or father figure. From that point of view, he already has a son, so he prefers a daughter.
Not to mention, he wants someone just as cute and beautiful as you.
"Boy. I want him to be like me."
Solomon wants a son who he can train to protect the Human Realm just as he is. He knows a daughter would be just as capable, but considering he has to deal with dangerous beings, Solomon would prefer a boy to handle the matters.
From a king's point of view, as per traditions, he needs a male heir to continue his family line, but he doesn't like this point of view, so he chooses not to mention this to you.
"Boy."
Mephistopheles feels a boy could carry his family's name and traditions forwards better. The reason he words his answers like this is because Mephi's family is part of the council that works with the king. According to the rules, the council members have to be males - he personally doesn't have any issues with a daughter handling matters.
Mephi is also scared that his daughter will be just as attractive as his, and he hates the thought of men buzzing around her to get her attention.
“Boy.”
Raphael wants to go train his son to fight alongside Michael and support the archangel just as he is doing.
Though he could train a girl as well, but he would prefer keeping his daughter away from the battle field.
"Of course, girl!"
Why would you even need to ask her that question? She believes in girl power and knows that women are badasses! Besides, the women in her family have always been the grim reapers, and she is not about to change any traditions for anyone.
She also wants the girl to be just like you, but she wouldn't mind if her daughter had some of her cute looks as well.
The best part, she will have another partner in crime that can help her prank that pesky sorcerer.
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➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2]
➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open
➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Open || GIF Requests: Open
#obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me asmo#obey me satan#obey me beel#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me thirteen#obey me raphael#obey me mephistopheles#obey me nightbringer
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okay, i finally saw tbosas and here are my thoughts
1. i personally think it would have benefited from being split into two movies, one in the capitol, one in twelve
2. i feel like sejanus wasn’t fleshed out as well as he could have been. i absolutely adore him but in the movie he came across as more reckless as opposed to filled with righteous fury, and his death wasn’t as painful as i was expecting (let’s be honest i wanted to fall to my knees sobbing at his death and instead i was just ‘ahhh noooo ☹️’)
3. ma deserved to be better featured in the movie + she would have helped flesh sejanus out (also to show snow’s relationship with the plinths in general would have really hammered in HOW evil he is)
4. i wish we had been able to spend more time in 12, seen snows HATRED for mockingjays spelt out clearer and spent more time with the covey and see how close they all are and how much they genuinely did trust snow
5. changing the ending of the games with everyone dying from the snakes was a little disappointing but i did laugh when the students started chanting “get her out!” (also when dr gaul said she didn’t care if there wasn’t a victor vs snow demanding there has to be a victor, which 64 years later comes to bite him in the ass was MWUH chefs kiss)
6. critiques aside, every single actor was PHENOMENAL. not a single weak or subpar performance in sight, even characters without any/much dialogue were incredible and scene stealers (shoutout to irene böhm as lamina)
7. the sets and costumes were EVERYTHING, almost everything was exactly how i pictured and if it wasn’t plucked straight from my brain it was even better than i could have imagined
8. rachel zegler and tom blyth please marry me please
9. the part where marcus comes over and tells lucy gray that she can run and get out KILLED me, oh i could just feel my heart shatter in my chest
10. OH MY GOD lucky flickerman being an absolute scene stealer, what an ICON, i laughed at everything he said
okay that’s all i can think of at this moment. overall i did love it but i do find myself being all “the book was better 🤓” but very rarely do movies come close to being as good, and as far as adaptations go i loved it and could make peace with most of their changes
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#suzanne collins#the hunger games#thg#coriolanus snow#president snow#lucy gray baird#the covey#sejanus plinth#dr gaul#lucky flickerman#rachel zegler#tom blyth#hunter schafer#josh andres rivera#viola davis#peter dinklage
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re: that *chef kiss* PERFECT Franken-Drummer post and tumblr not being all over The Expanse, I know right?? it’s such an amazing show with so many delightful, complicated characters yet it’s so unfairly slept on! maybe because S1 takes awhile to get going and ppl give up? idk but it makes me sad that I have so few ppl to squeal about Drummer and Amos and Bobbie and Christjen and Ashford and Naomi (ad infinitum) with 😭🚀😭
WHY ARE PEOPLE NOT OBSESSED WITH THE EXPANSE HELLO!?!?! there's literally so much to love about it oh my god. you're right, it DOES take a second to get going but once it does!!!
for those of you who have not read or seen The Expanse series (I myself have yet to read the books), let me tell you why you'll love it:
political space drama with incredibly distinct cultures and phenomenal world building, if you're a details girlie (gn), you're gonna go nuts
the found family vibes!!??! are off!?!? the charts!?!? (minor spoilers for the first few episodes) four people are thrown into a situation in which they accidentally become the most important people/fugitives in the whole galaxy and most of them DO NOT trust each other, what could possible go wrong, and even better, what could possibly go RIGHT
Christjen Avasarala. you are not ready for her. most powerful mover-shaker on earth with the most incredible outfits you've ever seen, refined elegance with the filthiest mouth, plus she's got a classic "whatever those two have going on is so gay it veers into something else entirely" with her younger protective knight lady, Bobbie
Bobbie. the "not to be a lesbian but oh my god" post is made for her. we meet her in the show for the first time when she arm wrestles a robot and WINS. you will be begging for her to step on you with her mech suit
speaking of women I want to step on me Camina Drummer. angry revolutionary pirate queen of my heart. do you miss the unique agony of 2000/10s queerbaiting but want it to be not baiting somehow? this show does that, idk how else to explain it. the most agonizing sapphic pining you've ever seen but it's textual and also not painful because its gay. don't worry, Camina fucks, just not the girl she wants most (also spoilers, but this is not a bury your gays show don't worry)
Jim Holden is literally just Some Guy who becomes the special fantasy chosen one because he simply cannot stop Getting Involved. nosiest bitch in the universe, I love him.
imagine you're a girl who leaves your shitty ex and gets a normal industrial job on a spaceship, only to have a six foot, two hundred pound killer dressed as a mechanic imprint on you like a baby duck, and its unclear whether he wants to fuck you or call you a little sister but he definitely WILL kill for you and will do literally anything you say and then you both end up caught up in a weird galactic war by mistake and there's this other guy with a captain america level moral compass and he's cute and you're into him except your shitty ex is still out there with the biggest secret you have and meanwhile your best female friend is the coolest person you've ever met but you don't think you can be what she needs and you're holding your family together, you're holding the universe together and all you want is justice for your people but unfortunately you've gone and fallen in love with the accidental most important man in the galaxy. well, every day Naomi Nagata wakes up
Praxideke Meng. botanist of my heart. literally tames the rabid guard dog that no one else could. gentle and able to stay gentle because of said dog. which brings me to...
Amos Burton. I saved him for last because he is my guy. he is THAT guy. canonically aromantic pansexual king. are you into guard dog characters? do you find yourself drawn to the "sorry my love language is acts of service and all I'm good at is killing people" characters? amos burton is like seventeen tumblr posts come to life. previously mentioned enormous killer dressed as a mechanic, former heels wearing "I didn't always work in space" sex worker who is always rolling into brothels and being like "you guys unionized?", gives a shit about basically no one in the universe except his crew and every single child in the galaxy, accidental comedian because he cannot stop saying weird shit, not a nice or good person but a loyal one, and one who is always trying to relearn the empathy that was carved out of him as a young person. every time he goes homicidal to protect one of his chosen people (crew + any and every child), an angel gets its wings.
fin.
#the expanse#most of this is cribbed from the essay I was texting a friend the other day lol#which is what inspired my expanse posting in the first place#bc I was like 'I HAVE to stop bothering this friend' lol#btw the canonically aromantic pansexual thing teeeechnically comes from the writers' twitter?#but like#you simply have to watch the show to know that about amos#he mostly doesn't sleep with people in the show and yes the few he does are women but the dude is queer#but anyway the authors have explicitly said he's aromantic and that his sexuality is 'yes'#lauren answers things
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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 4
Marcus Pike x female reader
Co-written with @absurdthirst
After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+
Word Count: 10.5k
Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* Family dynamics that contain debating as a method of communication, heavy familial expectations, changing relationships, talk of pregnancy and childbirth.
Summary: A family dinner at the White House, a meddling best friend, and the mysterious case of the missing Congressman.
Notes: Shout out to Keri for making me unexpectedly bawl about three-quarters of the way into this chapter. Thanks for that, babe. As usual, sorry for an errors I might have missed and thanks for reading!
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3
It isn’t unusual for a family to sit down to dinner together during the week. If you’re a busy family, living scattered about in different places, even a once-a-week dinner is worth scheduling. But when you’re the First Family, it gets a little complicated. The food is always amazing. That isn’t up for debate. And it is nice to actually see your mother when she isn’t surrounded by a swarm of staff or on a television screen. Alex and June are great too, when they aren’t being absolute pains in the asses. The only thing you’re hoping is that no one asks you about Sam at dinner tonight.
Family dinners always occur in the residence, around the long wooden table that is a substitute for the one you had grown up sitting around. No press, no phones at the table and the only interruptions that are allowed during this time is a matter of national crisis. Everything else can wait. It's why your mother is a successful politician while balancing her family, she gives everything its proper time. "So a little birdy told me that your inn is booked solid for the next few weeks." She looks over at you with a proud smile, aware that you work incredibly hard to make your vision, your dream, a success.
“Through April.” You nod, finishing a bite of food. The White House chef takes his chicken Marsala very seriously and it’s so good that you can’t get enough of it. “It never fails. People are always excited to see the cherry blossoms.”
“Will you still be able to attend the State dinner?” Although it was more a mandatory invitation, she would understand if you couldn’t break away. After all, she has a very demanding job as well.
“Of course.” Not aware that you had had any choice in the matter, you get smirked half-glances from your siblings that tell you they would try to get out too, if they could. “Although…I do have a question about that.”
She looks up from cutting her chicken, your father looking up from his glass of wine curiously. “What is that?”
“I know that it’s only a week away, so I am not asking for anything besides clarification.” Something about your parents’ reaction makes you feel like you need to say that out loud. Otherwise you might be up for one of your family’s famously endless debates. “Has the seating arrangement already been done so that all of us,” you motion to yourself and your two younger siblings. “Have a plus one?”
“Of course.” Your father has been the one handling the details of the State dinner and has meticulously planned the family seating arrangement. “Why?”
“Just double-checking. It’s the first State dinner, after all. I just want to make sure it goes smoothly.” It doesn’t matter that you were desperately hoping he would say no, or instantly offer to rearrange the seating chart if needed, or literally anything else that would get you out of having to have an uncomfortable conversation with Sam after barely talking to him at all the last few days. Maybe you could ask Juan to…Nope. There’s a rehearsal dinner at the inn that night. Shit.
“Good.” He smiles and gives you a knowing look. “I did not place Sam and you near too many political adversaries.” He snorts. “He won’t spend the entire night in a debate.”
“That’s thoughtful of you, Dad. Thanks.” There is a solid chance Sam would prefer that over the stony silence between the two of you, but you can’t say that. Not with your mother at the table. It will turn into a full-blown debate over what has gone wrong in your relationship and how to fix it, and you don’t need your meddling siblings to have that kind of ammunition on you. “So,” you turn to them instead. “Alex? Junie? You guys have dates?”
Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m bringing Dave, since he wants to go into law school.” He huffs. “He wants to intern with one of the senators.” Junie just shrugs. “Not yet.” She murmurs, bored by the idea of the dinner at all.
“Dave gets to come to a State dinner?” Your brother and his boyfriend generally keep things under wraps, and it works well since they’ve been best friends since they were kids. Like the gay male version of you and Sydney except they became a couple. “That’s sweet, Al. Maybe he’ll actually get you to behave yourself.”
“Never.” He flashes you a grin, making your mother huff in exasperation and amusement.
“No potential guest on the horizon for you, Junebug?” Your father asks, looking to his youngest child on the other end of the table.
“I’m either going to have someone want to go so they can rub elbows with politicians and brag they went to the State dinner, or be completely bored out of their minds.” She shrugs. “So I don’t know if I want to ask anyone.”
“Is that even an option?” You’re really trying not to make it sounds like you’re hoping for a yes, but you are. To be told you can go solo would solve every single one of your problems at the moment.
“We cannot have empty chairs.” Your father shakes his head. “Junie, if you don’t pick someone, we will have to find a filler.”
“Do you want me to ask Dave to bring his brother?” Alex offers, always only helpful to the baby of the family. “Noah can dance, doesn’t care about politics, and you can bitch about college the whole time of you want.”
“Please?” Her eyes turn hopeful and she knows that will be better than some filler guest.
“You got it.” Alex grins and flashes that thousand watt smile at your parents. “See? Problem solved.”
“Thank you.” Your father looks relieved and your mother gives him a smile before cutting into her chicken again. “Happy to have that settled.” She hums.
Settled. Ugh. If you weren’t about to turn thirty, you would be pouting at the table. Instead you let discussion float by, as your father double checks that all three of you have your White House approved outfits for the night and you’ve managed to memorize all the facts and statistics on the Spanish royal family that were handed out by your mother’s staff.
The dinner moves on to dinner dessert and the dinner plates are changed for wonderful pots of chocolate lava cake, a back up dessert for the State dinner for anyone with a gluten intolerance or nut allergy.
“This is amaaazing.” June groans, ever the chocolate fanatic.
“It is delicious.” Your mother agrees. “Rich.” She looks over at your father. “You said this was gluten free?”
“Hard to believe isn’t it?” He laughed like he’s got some trick up his sleeve but he’s really just pleased. “Apparently this is one of the easier cakes to do with alternative flours.”
“Perfect.” She might be President of the United States, but she and your father were a team. “You did wonderful finding an alternative, honey.”
“You like the orange sauce with it?” Everyone’s anxieties are high for this first occasion and your father wants everything to be perfect.
“Perhaps offer a raspberry or strawberry?” She suggests, looking around the table for everyone’s opinions. “What do you all think? In addition?”
“It’s a little sweet,” you admit, hating to ever disappoint your father. But there is a reason you all have so many round table discussions in your family. “Maybe blood orange would offset the sweetness a little? And be a little more luxurious?”
“Ohhhh blood orange would be amazing.” Alex chimes in, nodding in agreement. “Balance the sweetness of the chocolate.”
“Oh my god yes,” June groans, already having mostly inhaled her lava cake and furtively peaking to see if either you or Alex is going to be willing to give yours up.
Alex snorts when he sees that beseeching look on his younger sister’s face and slides his lava cake towards her.
“This is what you should have for your birthday.” Junie tells you emphatically, digging in to what’s left of your brother’s dessert. “No question.”
“Why? So you can eat all of it?” Your brother snorts. “But-“ he looks back over at you. “What are you having at your party?”
"I honestly haven't thought about it." There's still a month left until your birthday so it hadn't even crossed your mind yet. "Maybe I'll just go to a Nationals game if I can get away from work. Who knows?"
“Oh honey, you shouldn’t do that.” Your mother huffs slightly and shakes her head. “Go to a Nationals game, sure. But you need to have a party.”
"Why?" It sort of feels like whining this time, but you have to wonder what her logic is. "Because I'm one of the First Kids? Because I'm turning 30?"
“Because you deserve a party where others cater to your wants and is about you? Celebrating my oldest baby’s birthday.” She implores, expression soft and loving.
If there is one thing your mother is annoyingly good at it, it's showering love on her children despite being busy. No birthday ever went by without acknowledgement. No success uncelebrated. No set back unconquered. "So does that mean you and Dad are going to throw it and all I have to do is show up?" It's highly unlikely considering how busy they are, but you have to try, right?
“Absolutely.” Her grin is positively smug, like you have fallen into her trap, which - you have. “Of course, we are not going to have it at the White House.” She rolls her eyes slightly. “But you just pretend it will be a surprise. I’ll let Sam know where to bring you.”
"I can't know where to go myself?" Since there's a chance Sam won't even be in the picture in a few weeks, you would rather just have her tell you. "And please don't make it some big, formal thing? If I get told to wear an evening gown to my birthday, I'm not showing up."
“Nothing formal.” She promises. “No ballgown, but a nice dress.” She compromises, tilting her head. “For pictures? Not official ones, of course.”
Regular negotiations with the President should make you eligible for some kind of ambassador position even as her daughter, and you tilt your head at your mother before making a full agreement. "Cocktail attire maximum, the music cannot be described as orchestral anything, and the fancier the venue is, the lower class the food has to be. Those are my conditions."
“Finger foods inside of an upscale tavern?” She poses, smirking slightly at the way you negotiate with her. Out of all the children, you are the closest to her personality, even if you don’t see it. “With specially crafted cocktails to celebrate your birthday? And a playlist composed of your favorites songs from each year?”
"I'll build a core list for the music. Because I don't trust Alex not to sneak Cotton Eye Joe or something into the mix." Like any good wheeling-and-dealing adult child, you have to get just one more compromise in there before sealing the deal. "And I will provide you with a list of friends I'd like invited outside of the normal group. Obviously I know you'll give the information to Sydney, Anna Leigh, and Issy."
“Deal.” She nods and looks very pleased with the situation. “Honey, I will plan this.” She promises, reaching out and patting the back of your father’s hand. “I want to plan it.”
"Along with running the free world, she's also a party planner." Your brother snorts, always ready to tease. "You know you can just hire Juan to do it, Mom."
“No.” She snorts and blows a raspberry at your brother. “It’s my baby’s birthday. I want to plan the perfect party to ring in thirty.”
"And somehow Birdie still doesn't get that she's the favorite." June laughs, throwing you a smirk before she rolls her eyes playfully at Alex.
“Now you know that is not true.” Your mother protests, rolling her eyes. “I love all of you equally.”
"Yes, Mother." Alex and June chime in unison, making all of you break into laughter at the same time around the table.
“Managing you kids is almost harder than running the country.” She grumbles, even though she’s grinning.
"We just wanted you to have a lot of practice before you got to the White House." You assure her, still laughing with your siblings. "Because being Governor of Pennsylvania was definitely not enough. Your children are the real test."
“Yes they are.” She agrees, laughing with all of you and your father. The truth was, she has incredible children that she’s proud of beyond measure. Often she tells the world that her best accomplishment has been raising the three of you and it’s not line to appeal to her core voters, she truly believes that.
"So, I have a logistical question." Satisfied temporarily with the amount of chocolate consumed in one dinner, June sits back in her chair with her glass of iced tea and proves once more than kids take more corralling than countries. "If the State dinner is next Saturday, does that count as family dinner?
Your father rolls his eyes and sighs while your mom narrows her eyes in thought and looks towards her husband for his thoughts. “What do you think, honey?”
"The purpose of Friday night dinners is to have a chance to sit down together as a family and catch up. Enjoy each other's company. Celebrate the week's small wins." It's what they had agreed on years ago when this tradition had been born. "So by that logic, I would say no. Since we won't be sitting around enjoying each other's company while the king and queen of Spain are visiting." He narrows his eyes though, in a way that definitely speaks to how long your parents have been together. They have identical expressions right now. "Why, Junebug? Did you make other plans?"
“I—” she falters for a moment and then shrugs. “There’s a party I wanted to go to, but I don’t have to go if my presence is required.”
Your parents exchange a glance, that decades-long nonverbal communication at work for not the first time today. "Why don't we have dinner a little earlier?" You father offers. Compromise is always the name of the game in the First Family. "If we have dinner at six instead of seven that night, will that give you enough time, kiddo?"
A partial victory counts, so she nods. "That would work. It would give me plenty of time to be annoyed at my security detail."
"Sounds like a plan." Your mother smirks, relieved to see that none of her children have tried to give their agents the slip yet. She had expected it from June, if she's honest. She's definitely the most independent and the most rebellious.
"Wish we didn't have to have them." She pout slightly, even though she had known this was part of the deal. She hadn't expected it to chafe so much though, if she was honest. She have been very innocent in believing they would just a vague shadow.
"I'd rather have you annoyed by their presence and be safe, than let you go without them and have something happen to any of you." It's non-negotiable, you all know that, and your mother is frankly very glad that it comes with the office. Trying to make sure all three of you are safe without the Secret Service? No way.
"I know." She doesn't have to be happy about it though. "I just— wish the world didn't suck so badly sometimes." She murmurs quietly.
"Here here." Alex nods, knowing that all the different ways the world sucks have affected him in ways the rest of the family hasn't experienced on their own. Everyone may tout their belief in soulmates loudly, but he can't even go out and hold his soulmate's hand without risk. If anything, he's grateful for the Secret Service agents that have been assigned to make sure he stays safe.
"I know that you are disappointed that I haven't been able to push through the soulmate resolution yet." Your mother is addressing Alex, but she shoots him a reassuring look. "But I know that it is close." She looks towards you. "Sam has been a strong voice in the fight to approving the resolution." She praises. "You should be very proud of him."
Mom, you’ve only been in office a month. No one at this table expects you to work miracles.” You steadily ignore the remark about Sam, feeling like your blood pressure is rising a little every time he gets mentioned tonight. “The Resolution is a really good piece of legislation and it’s only a matter of time before it gets passed.” Looking to your brother, though, you offer him the proudest smile you can manage. “And then this pain in the ass can have the White House’s first ever gay wedding. One for the history books.”
Alex snorts and shakes his head. “Hell no.” He huffs. “I don’t want a stuffy White House wedding where I have to invite every dignitary I know. I’ll leave that to you.” He hums with a smirk.
“I’m not getting married anytime soon so what does it matter?” An awful lot of people have been very invested in your future lately and it’s grinding on you to the point where you shoot back a reply without even thinking of it.
Your father’s brow shoots up, surprised at the tone you had used and he glances at your mother, a silent look passing between them.
The silence at the table is ringing, and you put down your wine glass as delicately as you can manage. “What?” You ask, looking around the table but not willing to apologize for being cranky. “I’m not engaged, am I? It could be years before I settle down.”
"Nothing." Your mother shakes her head and smiles at you. "Things will happen in their own time." She councils softly. "You don't have to adhere to anyone's timeline but your own."
“Right.” The best you can do is sit back and have the decency to look a little sheepish, but you can feel the question marks in the eyes of your family members all watching you. It is massively uncomfortable at best.
"Okay." Alex senses something is wrong with you, that you want the subject to change so he claps his hands. "So, I have a question." He recaptures his parents attention. "Do we have to dance at the State dinner?" He asks seriously. "Because you know Dave has two left feet and I can't be embarrassed like that."
“You can dance with your sisters,” your father offers, sensing the same thing as his son. “Or with your mother, or the queen? Or any of the young men there, if you want to end up above the fold of the Washington Post.” It’s purely teasing, of course, since anyone who knows Alex knows he is only in the closet publicly.
He rolls his eyes and scoffs. "Nahhhhhh." He waves away the idea. "I don't want to have to hire a PR manager this early in my life." He jokes. "It would drain my savings."
"I guess we'll all behave ourselves." June observes with a wry smile.
"That would be extremely appreciated." Your mother hums, smiling at all of you. "I know you all have busy schedules, but I am so glad we can still get together."
It's Sunday before the dress arrives at the inn for the State dinner, and you and Sydney were enjoying a rare afternoon off together when Malachi lead the worried-looking White House staffer around to the back porch of the inn to let them hand it over to you in person. Sending them off again with your thanks, you push out a sigh. "I haven't heard from Sam in almost a week," you admit when your best friend fixes you with an inquisitive expression.
"Have you reached out to him?" Sydney asks, frowning as she holds the passion fruit tea she has been obsessed with over the last few days. "He might be embarrassed and unsure of how he will be received?"
"I sent him a text yesterday asking if we were still on for our plans tonight, but...nothing so far." Making plans ahead of time had been a definite strength for the two of you before now. But since Valentine's Day? Communication has been non-existent.
"Have you tried his office?" It's not like Sam to just blow you off, so she wonders if he's been caught up in meetings.
"I—" You blow out another breath. One that feels like defeat. "I'm afraid of calling and having Vanessa pick up," you admit. It feels stupid but you can't help it. "The idea that she could be feeling chatty and say something about Marcus just...I know that's stupid."
"Have you tried to text Marcus?" That's the next question is the most obvious one to take the conversation. If you aren't in contact with Marcus or he hasn't responded to you, that could be why you are feeling like a duck out of water.
"No." That idea makes you shake your head sternly and reach for your drink. The covered porch and little space heater is nice for sitting in the sunniest hours of the day, but you still made yourself a cup of hot coffee to sip while you sat with Sydney. "No...I mean...he probably hates me by now."
"I don't think he would hate you." She's already making an note to have Juan reach out to Pike himself. Maybe take him out for a beer and feel him out on the situation. "You cancelled a causal invite to dinner, you didn't cancel taking him to the State dinner."
"I can't even think about the dinner." Your fingers drum on the box beside you, knowing the dress inside is beautiful but not wanting to face the reality of how uncomfortable the night will be. "If I don't have a date I have to tell my father as soon as possible and I'll get stuck with a million questions and a seat filler."
"Then you need to call Sam." She huffs. "Even if he's fuming at you, I doubt he would miss the State dinner."
"I know, I know, I know you're right." But you don't really want to call him. If it's been almost a week and he's effectively ghosted you? That seems like a pretty clear signal to you.
"Babe....you need closure." The bags under your eyes aren't doing you any good, despite the sleepy time tea that she had been sending to you. "If you are ending things with him, you need to be an adult about it."
"Ugh." You groan, letting your head tip back so the sound drags out dramatically. "Stop making sense and giving good advice, it's interfering with my denial and the reconstruction of my emotional walls."
She laughs, although it's not really funny. She knows where you and it's a shitty place to be. Sighing softly, she picks up your phone and holds it out to you.
"I hate you." Even muttered good naturedly, you still snag your phone from her hand and clutch your coffee mug like a security blanket. Sam's office number is programed into your phone and you squeak with combined fear and frustration as the call connects and begins to ring.
"Congressman Chase's office." Vanessa's voice comes over the line cheerfully and professionally. "How may I be of assistance today?"
Don't be a coward, you remind yourself sternly, as soon as you hear her voice. "Hi Vanessa." Saying your name clearly eliminates any assumption that his staff might recognize your voice, even though you know a few people absolutely do. Some of his staffers like to chat to you while you wait for Sam to come to the phone when you call his office. "Is Sam available?"
Her use of your last name is merely one of respect, choosing to keep things professional with the Congressman's girlfriend. Slightly confused because you are calling for him at the office. "Did he not tell you?" She asks, her voice lower than the usual chipper tone.
"Apparently not." There is no way you're going to fess up that Sam hasn't spoken to you in days, or returned even so much as a text message. Now you're concerned something might be going on.
"The Congressman has been sick all week." She only knows how bad it is because he had spend the first few days trying to work through it. "He has pneumonia." She huffs quietly. "He's been barely reachable but I had though the would have at least let you know."
He's sick. You barely manage to swallow a sigh of relief at that news, and only because you know how inappropriate that would sound to his aide. "I hadn't heard the official diagnosis." It's as smooth a lie as you can muster at the moment, and you cling to your warm mug all the harder. He's sick. That's why he hasn't called. "Thank you, Vanessa."
"Of course." She's confused, but she also knows that the medication the doctor had prescribed him was to help him rest since he had been trying to push himself. "Anytime."
The groan of relief comes only after you disconnect the call, and you deflate into yourself in your chair. "He's sick," you tell Sydney with a groan. The heel of one hand digs into your closed eye like you're trying to banish a headache but it's really just that you feel the pressure releasing from your mind. "He has pneumonia. He's been out since the beginning of the week."
"Okaaaaay." Surprising, but honestly, it's not? Considering it's Sam and he's pretty direct about things. It's one of those traits that Sydney admires about him. "That's a very valid reason for not texting or calling." She admits. "That's a good thing, right?"
"I'm not thrilled that he's sick, but I'm very relieved that he didn't just ghost me. He sleeps like a rock around the clock when he's sick, so he's probably just passed out at home." The one other time you had seen him with a cold was several months ago, and it seemed like he had slept for three days straight before springing back up on his feet like nothing had happened.
"He didn't just ghost you." She grins at you, even though you are still conflicted about Sam, the fact that you are relieved by this means there's something there. "Do you want me to whip him up some chicken noodle soup to drop at his doorstep?"
"Do you want to go upstairs?" When the two of you actually get the chance to cook together it's always fun, and this sounds like the perfect opportunity. You didn't have a dinner plan anyway. Chicken noodle soup for two is easy enough. "I did my grocery shopping this morning so I know I have everything. And..." you pat the dress box beside you. "I should hang this up. I don't think velvet wrinkles but I still don't want to take a chance."
"Absolutely." She sends you a smile, happy that you look relieved and like a weight has been lifted off your chest. "We will have Congressman Chase cured with our famous chicken noodle soup in no time."
Juan had taken the afternoon to go for a ride around the Virginia backroads so it's just you girls right now and that sounds pretty perfect. You gather up your things and nab Agent Bailey, heading upstairs to get to work and try to ease your mind a little. "I do still have a problem," you point out, when the elevator hits the top floor.
"What's that?" Sydney frowns, looking at the screen that shows the floor you are on. She really hates elevators, but this helps her mitigate that fear that the damn thing would plunge into the basement like all those action movies she had watched as a kid.
The doors slide open and you let her out first, stepping up behind her to unlock the door and let the three of you inside. "Now I definitely need to find a new date for the State dinner."
"Oh shit." Sam can't attend the State dinner with pneumonia, it would be too great of a risk. "Well, I can have Juan escort you." She had plans to have dinner with her parents and reveal the name they had chosen, but this was important and she could reschedule.
"Honey, no." She's been excited about the dinner with her parents for a week already and it wouldn't be fair to take Juan away from that. "You guys have family plans and I'm not going to ruin that. I'll just...think of someone else."
"Malachi?" She offers. "He would look good in a tuxedo."
For a split second you get excited about the idea, but you sink again as you readjust the dress box on your hip. "I need him here that night." You tell her, groaning about it. "We have that six-person reservation that needs a translator. Malachi is the only one on staff who speaks Hindi fluently."
"Fuck." The fact is there aren't a lot of men that can just be called up last minute to look good in a suit and be cleared to be in a roomful of the world's top dignitaries. Unless... "I have an idea and you're going to hate it." She promises as you open the door to your apartment. "Give me your phone."
"I trust you with my life but I do not like that tone in your voice." Still, you hand over your phone with confusion on your face and start to unpack the burgundy velvet evening gown that was altered to fit you perfectly. "Please don't call any of my exes."
"I am not calling any of your exes." She promises you, opening the phone with a code and opening your phone book. It's easy to find the number that she is looking for, because you are a stickler for putting numbers in properly and hits call, changing the phone to speaker so you can hear it ring.
The call rings three times before it connects, and even if Sydney hadn't been angling the phone away from you so that you couldn't see the name, you're pulling the dress out of the box when you hear the unmistakable "Hello?" on the other end.
Suddenly you're standing straight up and glaring at your best friend – your former best friend – for this ultimate betrayal. "Marcus." Your voice cracks when you say his name and you just want the floor to open and swallow you up. "Hi. How— how are you?"
"Oh, hi." It's obvious that he's confused as to why you are calling him on a Sunday, but he doesn't hang up the phone. "I'm good, how are you?" He asks politely, actually sounding like he is interested in the answer.
"I..." You sink down on your bed, letting Sydney continue to hold your phone, and hug the dress to your chest. "I'm calling for a couple of reasons," you decide. Now that you've been confronted with this phone call, it all sort of comes tumbling out. "I wanted to apologize, first. For being vague on rescheduling our Indian dinner last weekend, and then taking off like the Wicked Witch was after me when I saw you the other morning. I've...it's been a weird week. And that was rude of me. So I apologize."
“I understand.” Marcus gives a rueful chuckle. “I’ve had a bit of a weird one myself. My phone has been broken three different times in the past week alone.” He snorts. “And half my contacts and messages have been unrecoverable according to the techs at the store.” He sighs. “So if you send me a message or something and I didn’t answer, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you.”
The I told you so look on Syd's face causes you to throw a pillow at her and you shake your head as though he was in the room with you instead of over the phone. "I texted you once about rescheduling dinner,' you admit. "But...I have a slightly different suggestion, if...if you want to hear it? And I would consider it an enormous favor."
It’s on the tip of his tongue to decline, but he is curious to hear what this favor is. “Hit me.” He tells you with a slight chuckle. “But not too hard. I have to work tomorrow.”
"I promise I'm not capable of punching through a cell phone." It's easy to talk to him. So easy. And it lulls you into a momentary false sense of security as you sit back on your bed. "But...I have a plus one to a State dinner for the Spanish royal family on Saturday night and I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party at the White House?" It's such an insane thing to ask a person that you almost feel like it's an out of body experience, but there it is. It's out in the open. There's no taking it back now.
“I-“ Of all the questions he tries to anticipate, that was not it. He frowns slightly, wondering about the congressman, until he remember that Vanessa had said he was sick with pneumonia. It’s likely him being sick has put you into a frenzy to find someone to go. Not the reason he would like to have dinner with you, but he wants to view you as a friend and this will be a friendly, public event. “Sounds like I need to get my tuxedo to the cleaners.”
"Oh my god, you're a lifesaver." The air whooshes out of you all at once and you fall back onto your bed with a gigantic sigh. "I will come and pick you up myself, the food is going to be amazing, and you can rag on me with my pain-in-the-ass siblings all night. I can't say how grateful I am, Marcus. Really. Thank you so much."
“It’s a honor that you even considered me to escort you” Marcus tells you truthfully. “I’ll be exited to go and I promise to keep the ragging to a minimum.”
"You've earned the right, I promise." You blow out another breath and manage to sit up but solidly ignore the smug look on your best friend's face. "I'll text you the details, if that's okay? Is your phone situation all worked out?"
He laughs quietly. “Hopefully so. All I know is that it is never a good idea to set your phone on the roof of the car when the rookie is driving.” Marcus snorts. “If I don’t get a message by tomorrow, I’ll call you. Sound good?”
"Sounds perfect." Quiet for a second, you take your phone out of Sydney's hand and smile, the smallest twitch of the thing in the corners of your mouth. "Thank you, Marcus. I owe you, but I promise we'll have fun."
“Don’t even worry about it.” He promises. “Well, I hope you have a great rest of your weekend, okay?” He asks. “And tell Sam to feel better.”
"I will." Passing that message along might be slightly strained, but it's the thought that counts. Thanking him again, you press the red button on your phone screen to end the call and groan so loudly that Agent Bailey sticks her head into the room just to make sure you didn't hurt yourself. "I can't believe you did that!" You squawk, throwing a second pillow at Sydney. This one hits her square in the shoulder where the first one missed.
“But tell me it wasn’t worth it?” She challenges, throwing the pillow back at you. “You have a date for the State dinner and you learned that he wasn’t ignoring you either.” She folds her arms over her chest and looks at you with a smug smile. “Come on, what other problems do we need to solve? World hunger?”
"Go to Friday night dinner in my place if you want to work on global issues." You snark playfully. The fact is, you know she's right. Annoyingly so, actually, and right now you're still processing.
“Maybe now you will get some sleep.” She huffs, still smug that everything was working out. “You’ve got a dress, a date and I’ll even have one of the wedding stylists that owes me a favor come do your hair and makeup.” She hums. “I made a special dinner for her and her boyfriend for Valentine’s.” She explains.
"What are you, the Romance Fairy?" Dragging yourself off the bed, you carry the dress over to your closet and carefully hang it up where nothing bad could ever touch it. The garment bag that it's in will help make sure of that. "Come on, we have soup to make."
She doesn’t mention that the State dinner isn’t supposed to be romantic. She just grins and follows you. “Yes ma’am, Hummingbird, ma’am.”
"Oh god, don't call me that around him." This, in particular, is an incredibly stern warning. At this point you're just grateful that the Secret Service use your callsign quietly enough that they're not overheard when they say it. "I'll die of embarrassment."
“I won’t.” She promises, aware that you aren’t quite ready to address that particular issue.
“I just don’t even want to think about that.” You don’t want to, but you have been. Rather constantly, which is a growing issue.
“Let’s just get you through the State dinner and your birthday.” Syd suggests. “Then you can let that big brain of yours work overtime on non-issues.”
Throwing Sydney a look of dismay over the last of your coffee, you pout animatedly. “I debated terms of my birthday with my mother at the last dinner.”
“And?” Sydney almost laughs at your look and turns away to start rummaging through your fridge for the ingredients for the soup. “What was negotiated?”
“Cocktail. High end pub, finger foods and a DJ.” You shake your head and huff a sigh. “I said I should just go to a ball game, but that was unacceptable.”
“It’s hard to run security for the president at a stadium.” She reminds you. “And your mom would want to be there.”
“I just…” Looking back at Sydney, you cross your arms and shrug. “I don’t think I have all that much to celebrate this year, I guess.”
“You have a lot to celebrate.” Your friend will always hype you up and she does so now. “You have your health, a successful business with your best friend.” She cheeses playfully at you. “Your mother is the president of the United States and….” She shrugs. “You’ve hit your dirty thirties. We have to celebrate.”
“I can’t exactly have dirty thirties when my mother is the president.” You throw your arms around her again and squeeze her shoulders, grateful for every second you have Sydney by your side. You’ve been each other’s ride or die since first grade and that will never change. “And you’re pregnant, so you already got dirty.”
“I did.” She snorts with a wicked grin. “And I enjoyed every second of it, too.”
“Perv.” You really can’t help but tease her, but it’s purely out of affection. “It’s just because you’ve got your super sexy soulmate. The Triple S is undeniable.”
“He is sexy.” She can’t deny that, grinning wickedly as she rubs her stomach. “And getting sexier. Did I tell you he’s starting to get sympathy cravings? Dad bod mode is close.”
“Your wildest dreams are all about to come true.” The two of you giggle together as you start to pull ingredients out of the fridge, getting started on cooking that batch of soup.
“So, do you feel better now?” Sydney asks, organizing the vegetables and opening the drawer for the carrot peeler. She had helped you set up the kitchen to her specifications so she could easily find what she wanted when she cooked here.
“A little.” It’s relief more than anything, as you start to peel fresh ginger. It’s the secret ingredient to your best ever chicken noodle soup. “And then I feel guilty for it, which is fucked up. Like I think Marcus might actually enjoy himself on Saturday just for the bragging rights and then I immediately feel bad for thinking that.”
“Why do you feel bad?” She cocks her head as she peels the outer layer off the crisp, orange carrots. “I think most people will enjoy themselves just for bragging rights, it’s brag worthy.”
“Promise you won’t judge me and promise you won’t tell anyone. Not even Juan.” Holding your pinky finger out to her is the most solemn promise you can possibly as of your friend, and neither one of you has ever refused it.
“Of course.” Juan knows everything you are comfortable with, but she would never betray your trust like that. She hooks her finger around yours and looks at you for an explanation.
“I…” Glancing around, you see that Agent Bailey has dutifully slipped out of earshot and is sitting on your couch with a crossword book firmly in hand. “I feel guilty because now that it’s set…I can’t help wishing it was a date,” you admit quietly, hanging your head turn.
“It kind of is a date.” Syd admits, looking at you with a sense of regret for teasing you. “A platonic on, but a date nonetheless.” She hums. “Just like you and I have dates. Friend dates.”
“That…regrettably…is not what I mean.” The best you can really do is shrug your shoulders in defeat. “Friend dates are awesome and I will take you on dates for the rest of our lives. But I—I wish this was different than that. And it sucks.”
“You can’t help attraction.” She argues softly, knowing that you will still feel guilty. You are very stern about cheating, and this is veering into emotional territory for you. “He might not- it should just be about the dinner.”
“I know.” Peel ginger. Grate ginger. Try not to think too hard about what Marcus will look like in a tux. “I know. You’re right.”
“I’m sorry.” She murmurs softly. “I shouldn’t have pushed.” She feels guilty, especially now that she knows how you are feeling about this.
“How could you have known? I’ve kept this as firmly to myself as I possibly could.” And keeping things from Sydney is the most impossible task in the world for you. “Besides. He was the right choice.”
“Still doesn’t make me any less sorry.” She huffs, washing the carrots and bringing them over to the chopping board. “I don’t want you to be stressed, I want you to be happy.”
“I’m going to be stressed until I make a decision about what to do.” Once the ginger is done you move on to washing and slicing celery. “And I don’t know how to make that decision.”
Sydney sighs heavily. “I hate that for you.” She admits softly. “If you need to talk, you let me know.”
“What does Juanito think I should do?” You know her well enough to know that she’s talked to her husband — her own soulmate — about this at least a little.
“Juan thinks that you should be happy.” She hums softly. “Whatever that entails. As long as you are fair to everyone.”
"No groundbreaking advice?" If you're honest with yourself, you were kind of hoping for it. Instead, you're definitely floundering.
Sydney stops chopping and points the tip of the knife at you. “You know what he would say, Birdie.”
Ugh. That's true. You do. Juan is unfalteringly trustworthy like that. "That I have to talk to both of them..."
“Even if Marcus isn’t your soulmate, you are attracted to him, and it’s worth seeing if he might be the one you want to be with.” She shrugs, knowing that it’s easy to give advice when she’s found her soulmate and is blissfully happy. “Or it might just say that Sam isn’t the one.”
"Have you noticed a pattern?" Even as you're making the soup, going through effort and putting care into a dish to comfort and heal, a pattern is becoming as obvious as daybreak.
“I have.” She nods and looks back up at you. “Have you noticed that pattern? Or have you just been ignoring it?”
"I think..." A heavy sigh escapes you as you deposit the clean, diced celery in a bowl. "I might have been ignoring it."
“It’s okay to admit that a relationship has run its course.” She reminds you. “Sometimes, things just aren’t meant to be.”
"It's just...no version of this conversation we've had in the last few weeks has ended with the conclusion that I should stay with Sam. And that...that is not how I ever expected things to go. He's such a sweet guy and we've had such a good time." Just as unexpected as this conclusion is the tear that rolls down your cheek, and you brush it away immediately. "It's shitty to break up with someone while they're sick, right?"
“I think you owe him a face to face explanation.” She doesn’t tell you that it’s wrong, if that’s what you want to do. She’ll support whatever you want.
"Shit," you groan, reaching next for an onion. Sydney has trained you to be a dutiful sous chef for so long that now you just do her prep work without thinking. "This is going to suck, isn't it?"
“It doesn’t have to.” She counters. “You said Sam’s reaction was….surprisingly hostile. Maybe he’s had some doubts about the relationship too.”
"If he was hostile about the fact that I was standing my ground, he's either going to be hostile about being broken up with, or just completely silent." Sam doesn't take rejection well, you've seen it in a more professional setting but it will certainly apply here.
“Was he hostile?” She asks seriously. “Or were you both in unknown territory and stubbornly waiting for the other to give in?”
Groaning animatedly, you bump Sydney with your hip at the counter and shake your head. "Sometimes I truly dislike how well you know me. I'm just saying that out loud for the record."
“You know you love me.” She snorted and blows a raspberry at you playfully.
"I do love you." But it garners another groan from you all the same. "This was so much easier when we were kids and our life plan was to live in a castle until we were old enough for a nursing home, and then to be the super weird old ladies on the front porch of the home cursing at people as they walked by."
“We are still on for that.” She jokes, motioning to the apartment. “We are in our castle right now.”
"Technically we can go to an American castle any time we want," you point out. "It comes with the price of visiting my family, but the White House does count as a castle."
“Yes it does.” She agrees, proud to know the first family so well. “But I like our castle better.”
"I love this place." From the first day you set foot inside the inn, you have absolutely adored both working here and even running the place. Living in the caretaker's apartment has been comforting. Like a warm hug on a cold day. "And I love that we get to share it."
“There is no one I would rather do this with.” She tells you honestly, so excited to be able to live out the vague dreams of college now as adults.
"You're gonna make me teary again," you complain, fully teasing her but definitely feeling a little emotional about the whole situation.
“I thought it was my job to be the emotional mess.” Sydney sniffles and moves to wrap her arms around you and squeeze tight.
“Sympathy mood swings.” That makes both of you laugh, there at the counter. “Is that a thing?”
“Why not?” She asks, laughing herself at her husband and best friend having sympathy symptoms of her pregnancy.
“It is now, I guess.” You keep working through the soup prep side by side, getting everything ready in unison. “The thing is…” you hum after you’ve both stopped laughing. “I do care about Sam. And I want him to be happy. I just…don’t think I’m going to be the one to give him the future he wants. Which sucks to realize.”
“It’s better that you realize it now.” She rationalizes. “Less heartache and it’s not like you’re married with kids.”
“And we haven’t started moving in.” That’s an unexpected relief, and the realization that it was moving in together that kicked at your doubt is something you’ll have to grapple with later. “I probably only have a couple of things at his place and the only thing I’ve got of his here is a book I borrowed.”
“And….” She sighs. “Let’s face it, Sam wasn’t happy with you spending all your time at the inn.” She voices. “He rarely wanted to come here, even though he’s the one that can more easily travel.”
“Have you been holding back on me, Badillo?” You raise an eyebrow at her as she works on the chicken. “Hiding the things about Sam that have been bothering you?”
“No.” You don’t seem very surprised. “Just observations that I have made, but I wasn’t sure how you would take them.” She explains. “You were very proud of your relationship with Sam and I didn’t want to influence you unduly.”
"I was." And you can acknowledge that firmly, knowing that the relationship you forged with Sam was based on respect and mutual affection. It does feel like failure to see it ending, but at least you tried. Failure is just a means for new growth, as your mother has always told you.
“I know you look at this as a failure.” She’s known you way too long to think otherwise. “But this was a year long relationship that at the end of the day- you weren’t on the same page.”
“I think it would feel very different if I wasn’t sure it was going to end up talked about in every gossip column from sea to shining sea.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, knowing — and hating — how true it is. Junie isn’t dating and Alex isn’t dating publicly, so all eyes are on you. Especially if you break up with a Congressman.
“Don’t let it bother you.” She urges you. “It’s not like they can say anything bad.”
“Tell that to Princess Diana.” You huff, shaking your head and rolling your shoulders to try to straighten out your head a little. “Okay. New topic. Baby name? I’m dying to know what you guys picked.”
She smiles, rubbing her stomach in that universally happy way all expectant mothers do. “Constance Maria Badillo.” She lights up as she tells you the name they had finally decided on last night.
“Oh, honey.” There’s a measure of delight in your giggle when you light up, finding out those two essential pieces of information all at once. Sydney and Juan had been keeping both under wraps. “It’s a girl? Really?”
“We just found out.” She admits, grinning like a maniac. “Of course, baby Badillo could have just been shy but they are pretty positive she’s a girl.”
"You must be thrilled." Of course Sydney would be happy no matter what the gender as long as the baby is healthy, but you know she's always dreamed about having her little girl.
“Over the moon.” Agreeing happily, she turns back to the chicken. “And Juan and I have talked about it.” It’s a casual beginning. “We want you to be her Godmother, as well as Auntie Birdie.”
"Syd." Your knife gets put down immediately and you turn to her with a look of complete awe on your face. "Are you sure? You don't want to ask your sister? I mean I am honored and one thousand percent here for it."
“No.” She shakes her head and her own tools are set down so she can address this properly. “There is no one that we want more than you.” She explains. “You will always be my choice for godparent.”
"I know I've said it before in our lives, but I am here for anything you need." It's not just for Syd, and you lean down and hum a happy hello to your goddaughter that's growing like crazy. "That goes for you too, kiddo. Hear me? Auntie Birdie's got your back. And your front. And all the other bits of you forever."
“You are going to be her favorite.” Sydney sniffles, her hormones making her cry happy tears. “The one she confides in when she can’t bear to tell me or Juan and I love you for that.”
“I hope so.” Wrapping your best friend up in a hug is exactly what this moment needs, and the sound of two women sniffling takes over your kitchen for just long enough to make both of you break out into giggles. “She’s going to get the best of me and I’m going to tell her about all the stupid bullshit we got into as teenagers.”
“Oh god, you better not.” Sydney groans, rolling her eyes. “Nothing she can throw back in my face when she’s angsty and argumentative.”
“Nothing that will put you in Mom Jail,” you tease with a wink. “Promise.”
“Thank goodness.” She snorts. “This one is already gonna have her daddy wrapped around her finger, so I’m gonna have to be the bad cop.”
“It will go back and forth. One day she’ll do something that makes Juan crazy and you’ll be the arms that she runs to.” It happened in your own house more than once, there’s no reason it won’t happen in hers, too. “It will all turn out. She’s going to have the best parents in the world.”
“I hope so.” She shrugs slightly, aware that they will make mistakes, but hopefully it won’t be too bad to make their daughter hate them.
“You have love,” you remind her with a gentle smile. “Have a little faith, too. If nothing else, we all believe in you. All your friends and your family know you’re going to be great.”
“We will have our little village for Constance.” She agrees. “So when we mess up, we can learn.”
“For Baby Badillo number two,” you tease, beaming at her.
“Juan is already asking how many more I want.” Sydney snort, huffing slightly even if she’s grinning. “Told him that he needed to let me birth this one first before we decided that.”
“One at a time is probably best. For your body and your sanity.” Although, you do raise an eyebrow at her. “Twins don’t run in your family, right?”
“Not that I know of, but Juan thinks some cousins might have twins.” She winces and shakes her head with a laugh. “I’ll kill him.”
"Fingers crossed that you only have to grow one baby at a time." With everything prepped, you move to the sink to wash your knives and fetch your best stock pot from the cabinets. "But I will spoil the hell out of all of them, no matter what."
“I know you will.” She knows what despite your already busy schedule, you will always make time for those that matter most to you. Which is why it’s so telling her that you and Sam have been spending less and less time together over the last few months.
“So…” Flashing Sydney a grin as she starts to cook, you move back to the refrigerator to put things away and to get fresh drinks for both of you. “Two questions, then. First: Have you picked a godfather? And two, if I’m her go mother does that mean I get to throw your baby shower?”
"I'm letting Juan pick out the godfather." She admits, shrugging slightly. "I don't- he's got some ideas, but he hasn't made a final decision yet."
“Most of his friends are fathers already, aren’t they?” The Guy friends that Juan had made in the DC area since moving east after meeting Sydney are all responsible men around his age and most of them have families of their own. It’s a small group, it they’re tight knit.
"Yeah....except that, now, Juan has started thinking that he wants someone that is...." She rolls her eyes, "trained." She huffs and moves over to wash her hands again. "You know how involved he was with beefing up security here, he wants a protector for our little girl in case something happens to us."
“Well…that’s not unreasonable, right?” Spying a can of croissant dough — a cheat you’re very fond of — in your fridge, you grab it and decide to fill them with Nutella and berries for a little dessert pastry. “I mean he’s got friends who are trained. Be able to pick someone.”
"I know." She sighs and turns back to you. "I just hate that he's so practical about it." She admits, biting her lip again. "I don't want to think about us not being here to protect her."
“Then try to think of it like he’s choosing someone who can help her learn to protect herself,” you offer instead. As she grows up and faces new things — whatever those things are — her godfather will have been there to teach her self-confidence and safety in equal measure.”
There's a moment where Sydney thinks about what you said and how it applies to the situation before she huffs out a slightly annoyed, mostly amused laugh. "How do you do that?" She grumbles. "I was ready to be in a tearful pout about that you have to go make it perfectly acceptable." There's no heat to her words and she flashes you a grateful smile. "Thanks."
“We’ve been friends for twenty-five years, Sydney Rose.” The grin you flash back at her in unapologetic. “If I don’t know how to talk you out of a panic by now, I’m more clueless than I thought.”
Pursing her lips at you, she doesn't try to deny it. Instead, she turns to rummage in your spice cabinet. "Do you have that turmeric I left up here last time?"
“It’s behind the huge mason jar of chili seasoning.” You tell her without looking up from your dough-chocolate-and-berry project. “Indian spices are in the back because I fucked up the last time I tried to make curry from scratch and they were taunting me.”
“Poor thing.” Sydney sympathizes and shrugs. “We just need to realize they put something extra in their recipes they won’t tell us.” She hums, talking about your favorite curry from your favorite restaurant that you had cancelled on Marcus going to.
"Some kind of magic that I can't wrap my brain around." There were strawberries in your fridge that you're now set on cleaning and trimming. A crescent roll filled with a dollop of Nutella and a whole strawberry is a thing of beauty. "I should just eat their take out every week for the rest of my life instead of trying to make it."
She smirks at you but doesn’t remind you that you would have had some the other day. It would be too cruel. “How about we order some Sunday?” She suggests. “Decompress from the State dinner?”
“That sounds amazing.” The gratitude you have and have always had for her friendship truly is never ending. “You can tell me all about dinner with your folks and we can get chaotic with each other over curry and Scrabble?”
“Sounds like we are party-ing.”She teases, although she loves it. Low key nights are her favorite.
“And all the sparkling apple cider we can stand.” If she’s going to tease you, you’re going to tease her right back. “By the way, I asked Mom to make sure my birthday has a mocktail so you don’t miss out on the fun.”
“You’re the best, you know that?” She beams at being included and tilts her head. “So how was the family dinner, besides the avoidance of Sam talk?”
“Alex is bringing David to the State dinner. Under wraps, of course.” Syd has known your family so long that she knows every inch of your siblings’ lives as well, just like you know hers. “Junie is learning to negotiate to be able to go to parties, so I know I’ve done my job as her big sister right.
“Your brother should be able to take any fucking body he wants to the State dinner.” She rolls her eyes and huffs, offended on behalf of your younger brother. “If foreign dignitaries don’t like it, fuck ‘em.”
"He can. It's not like the Spanish royals have a 'no gays' policy or something, and gay marriage obviously isn't the issue. It's that he doesn't want to become the center of an unnecessary debate. He is who he is, and I'm so proud of him for making his choices." Glancing over at her, you shrug slightly. "That being said? I get not wanting to be thrown into the spotlight for who you love."
“Of course you do.” It’s kind of a double-edged sword in her opinion, the political spotlight. You could be a darling of the media one day and the scapegoat the next, just depending on how the mercurial whim of the people shifted.
"It's one thing that Sam didn't seem to mind, and I was grateful for that." In no way are you going to start bad mouthing the man just because you've reached the finish line of your relationship. That's not the kind of person you are.
“I know, but I also know that dating a presidential candidate’s daughter during an election isn’t exactly bad press for a politician.” She holds up a hand. “I’m not saying that’s why he dated you, I’m not speaking ill, I’m just stating facts.”
"If he actually wants to be President, he needs to get used to having the Secret Service being around real fast." You snort, shaking your head and knowing that it really has been one thing bothering him pretty constantly. "He hates feeling like his privacy is being invaded."
“It might be because he’s not in control of the detail.” She guesses. “You have the final say on the detail and where they are.”
"Either way, I don't think he'll miss having an agent in his living room." There are plenty of strawberries, so you offer one to Syd and pop a small one in your mouth to savor. "Maybe I just won’t date during my mom’s administration. Maybe that’s the solution.”
“You like having a partner though.” She argues. “And you shouldn’t give up dating because of who your mother is.”
"It might just be less complicated." It's not what you want but it would certainly save you some heartache. "What's the worst that happens? I'm single for the next eight years?"
“Already counting on that re-election?” She teases, bumping your hip playfully.
You huff, swallowing a half-laugh, and bump her back. "More like pondering my worst case scenario."
“Whatever happens, we will be with you.” She promises with a grin.
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer
HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @storiesofthefandomlovers
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#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Marcus Pike#Marcus Pike x you#Marcus Pike x reader#Marcus Pike x female reader#Marcus Pike x f!reader#The Mentalist#soulmate au#First Daughter reader#Juan Badillo#Graceland#Juan Badillo x f!OC#Juan Badillo x OC#love triangle
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Post Covid!Kenny NSFW headcannons.
Pairing: Kenny McCormick x Reader.
Triggers: 18+, smut all over. Smut throughout. Pt2??
NOTE!!!: I can’t find a gif of Kenny during post covid therefore I am using @.SPFKymanCartyle on Twitter. This is THEIR work and THEIR design. All credit goes to them. Their work is incredible I would 100% recommend checking it out. Once again, the picture of Kenny is NOT MINE, it is @.SPFKymanCartyle on Twitter.
NSFW Headcannons:
* Kenny for real, has a size kink and loves manhandling you and throwing you into every position he can. However, he only does that when he’s 100% sure he won’t hurt you. Kenny will literally be fucking you against the wall then throw you onto the bed.
* Kenny adores you. He would 100% body worship you in every single way. Kenny is so grateful for you and he wouldn’t be satisfied if he didn’t allow himself to indulge in you fully.
* If you’ve long hair, Kenny loves pulling your hair into a ponytail and guiding your mouth up and down his cock. He loves stroking your hair all the while he controls how long he wants to last. If not, Kenny would adore fucking your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. Ughh, imagine his moans as he fucks your mouth. Kenny could of died happily when he came home from a stressful day of work to see you, naked, with your mouth opened and on your knees, ready for your mouth to be fucked.
* “That’s my girl.” Kenny smirked as he pulled your hair into a makeshift pony. “How did I get so lucky??”
* Kenny has nicknames for you, but his favourite is “baby girl” 🤍
* “You like my big cock inside you, baby girl?”
* I feel like Kenny isn’t really into Dom/sub, however, I think Kenny is more on the Dom side of things?? Like idk how to describe it. Anyways, Kenny has a need to protect and pleasure you. It’s his pussy and he’ll do what he wants. 🤷♀️
* Kenny is the furthers thing from a gentleman, he will leave marks everywhere and anywhere you want him too (well where he wants) especially in the heat of the moment, Kenny will leave dark bruises all down your neck, breasts, thighs, hips, ass, etc. good luck wearing shorts or skirts during the summer.
* Tends to grunt rather than moan but hearing him saying your name in his deep voice is just chef kiss.
* Loves loves love doggy style. Kenny loves looking at your ass as he fucks you from behind. He loves pulling you back onto him, holding you there for a few seconds before going back to thrusting and repeating.
* Also really really really loves you riding him. Kenny would have one had holding your ass and another going between your tits. He enjoys thinking you have control but he would easily flip you over in two seconds.
* I feel like Kenny has a bit of a dumbification kink?? Idk why. But since Kenny has all this money, and is buying you nice clothes, he enjoys the thought of you dressing like a complete slut for him and pretending to be stupid when he asks you a simple question. Kenny takes pride in his smart girl but sometimes he’s needs to fuck his smart girl dumb.
* I feel aswell that Kenny might have a breeding kink but doesn’t want kids (just yet??). Idk I’m a bit iffy on this. But he would finger his cum back into you to be safe ✌️🤍
—
“Oh fuck! Kenny.” You whined as his hips thrusted up to meet yours as you rode him. You throw your head back, bouncing up and down to meet him. Between the pain of the overstimulation and pleasure, you knew Kenny wasn’t letting up just yet.
“Kenny! I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered, and Kenny began thrusting into your cunt harder. Your cunt clenched around Kenny’s cock, despite the burning in your legs and tummy from bouncing on Kenny’s cock, you swear you were to explode.
Kenny grunted before spilling into you, and continued to fuck you through your high as your moans and whines of your orgasm got louder before you plopped down ontop of Kenny, panting, him still inside you. The two of you laid there for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth that radiated from eachothers bodies. It wasn’t long until you felt Kenny getting hard once again along with the burning kisses he left on your neck, you knew you were in for a long night.
#post covid!south park#post covid!Kenny McCormick x reader#post covid!Kenny McCormick#post covid!Kenny McCormick smut#South Park x reader#south park imagines#kenny mccormick#kenny McCormick x reader
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Title: If This is Love, I Don’t Want It {Three Shot} 1 *
Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Warning: Heavy Angst, Cursing, Infidelity, Heartbreak, Asshole Behavior, Mild to Moderate Levels of Smut, Slight NSFW,
Words: 4k
Summary: Against your better judgement, you allowed Lewis to woo you. For 10 months he chased you with more determination than a starving wolf. You finally gave in and found happiness and what you thought was love. Thought is the operative word as you stare at the pictures from his week in Antarctica, pictures that show you definitely had been made a fool of.
Note: I know it’s late but now I’m in an asshole Lewis mood. LOL. High angst, no fluff, now googly eyes, expect to dislike him for this three parter. Hope you enjoy it!
Note II: Italicized text is a flashback/memory or someone’s words all from some time in the past.
As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it!
If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!
***NOT Edited/Proofread***
~~~~~~
-1 Year Ago-
Being back in Monaco felt strange. After working with the Mercedes-Petronas Worldwide organization trying to really put women’s F1 on the map. You never liked how pushed to the side the women’s side appeared while male counterparts had this earth-shattering worldwide fame. The women you interacted with daily for the last two years were incredible beings. They were strong, intelligent, skilled, and amazing. Being back, you planned on badgering your father to put more shine and money into them while convincing him to make you their official go to.
You took a deep breath and savored the salty fragrant air. This stop in Monaco wasn’t going to be a long one before you went back to London, so you planned on enjoying it to the fullest.
“Excuse me.”
Spinning you found a familiar smiling face before you.
“Would you look at that, Y-F-N & Y-L-N!”
You scoffed at the near six-foot man before you. As always, his hair was styled flawlessly not leaving not even one hair out of place. His dark eyes shined with friendliness and a hint of something else, something intriguing, but his smile was all politeness.
“Sir Lewis Hamilton.”
You tipped your head down mocking the proper introduction for someone who’d been knighted. You knew he hated it, but you loved it because he hated it.
“Cute.”
You took the seven or eight steps back to your table that overlooked the balcony and took a sip from your wine glass.
“How are you?”
“Good. Enjoying life,” you replied waving around you.
“Your father said you were busy and helping him with other things.”
“I was. Are you here for business?”
He sat across from you, clearly not caring that he didn’t receive an invitation to do so.
“I wasn’t sure when I landed last night but seeing you here, I know.”
“Know what?”
“I’m not here for business.”
He spoke with eyes locked on yours and it didn’t take a genius to guess what he was alluding to. He was here for pleasure. You bit down on your tongue, stifling your laughter.
“Oh no? Then what?”
“Pleasure of course.”
You nodded. “And that pleasure is it with me?”
Lewis smiled and you saw what so many women saw in him. He was gorgeous. There was a certain appeal to him that pulled you in. You understood how and why so many women flocked to him and yearned to stay by his side. There was a certain Je ne sais quoi. It was slightly infuriating the longer you tried to unravel what it was.
You snorted then laughed out loud.
“Oh my god. Does that really work?”
He laughed along with you. “More times than you could imagine.”
“Wow. I guess I should feel honored, Sir Lewis really dropped a line on me.”
“I’m embarrassed now.”
“You should be that line was horrible.”
Both of you laughed together as a waiter approached.
“Ma’am. Is this the last of your party?”
You studied him trying to decide if you’d let him stay. It was that Je ne sais quoi that had you answering. “Yes. We can begin.”
The waiter nodded then began listing off the specials of the evening, and the chef’s selections. Both you and Lewis listened as you flipped through the menu. Every so often you glanced over to him trying to unravel the onion you were sure he was. When his eyes shifted to you, you snapped out of it.
“Ladies first, please,” Lewis uttered.
Dinner progressed with nonstop conversation. He was intelligent, you that that, but seeing it on display this close to you couldn’t help but be fascinated. He spoke of more than just F1, more than driving, he spoke about politics, world struggles, music, art, fashion and plenty of other things. The first and second course zipped by without any ill feelings. By the time dessert finished you were not only stuffed but also enjoying yourself.
When Lewis suggested accompanying him to a party you decided why not, you weren’t in a hurry, you didn’t have anything else to do tonight either. Ever the gentleman, Lewis assisted you into the back of his truck and spoke to you the entire way there. Throughout the party he kept you by his side, he took care introducing you to everyone he knew, even getting your drinks so no one else handled them.
It would be a lie if you said you didn’t enjoy yourself. You did. You danced, drank, socialized, and even flirted it up with those around you. It had been a while since you were able to really let yourself go and it felt good. When Lewis came up behind you for a dance, you even allowed him to get close enough for you to get a hint of a feel of why the rumors surrounding him were so scintillating.
He felt good, you couldn’t deny that, so good that you leaned back against him letting your head lull back onto his shoulder. Lewis’ lips brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered; “This is bad.”
“What is?”
“You are soooo off limits. You’re practically career ending level of off limits.”
You smirked.
“So that means dangerous, right?”
You ground your hips against him. A deep groan was your reward. “Absolutely.”
“And lemme guess, you like danger.”
“I drive fast cars for a living, Y/N. Danger is the only thing I understand.”
“And you want this kind of danger?”
Poking out your ass a bit you nudged his now growing member. Damn he felt good, you thought. Everything in you was tempted to give in.
“Do you?”
Lewis pressed forward sending his now rock-hard length onto your ass.
“Fuck,” you hissed and fought to keep your resolve.
It took every ounce of control you possesed and every bit of willpower, but you managed to pull yourself from him to walk away. He stood there staring at you with such a hungry look your belly flipped. An hour or so later, you both walked out of the club. He automatically began leading you to his truck, but you stopped.
“Thanks for the party.”
His brow crooked. “You’re—you’re leaving?”
“That I am.”
“Why? I thought--,” he began.
“I know exactly what you thought. You thought a sexy dinner, some slick lines, dancing, flirting and some alcohol would seal the deal for your wild night of fun with the boss’s elusive and selective daughter. You thought it was for sure gonna happen where you found out my mouth is a lot dirtier than you ever imagined. I don’t know whether to laugh or be offended that you thought it was going to be that easy.”
“I--.”
“I guess I can’t blame you, not truly. Every woman you’ve ever encountered give you anything and everything you wanted with this much or less.”
You sighed then shrugged. “Sadly, Sir Hamilton I am not one of the women you pick up, screw crippled and toss into your rotation.”
Lewis scoffed then stepped closer. “Who said that’s what this was?”
“Oh, so what was this about?”
Lewis took your hand and pulled you closer. “This was about me finally at the point where I’m okay with risking some things if it means having you.”
His eyes looked sincere like he really meant those words, like he really wanted you for more than a quick fuck.
“I mean it, Y/N. We’ve known each other for years, been dealing with each other for years, I know you feel something here between us. I feel it.”
You smirked then shook your head. “God, the game you spit is smooth as fuck.”
His hand snaked behind your back to rest right atop your tailbone.
“What do you want, Y/N?”
You leaned to his ear, “You to work for it.”
Your eyes locked for a few moments before you pulled away.
“Good night, Sir Lewis.”
~~~~~~~~
-16 Months Later-
“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck yes Lewis!”
His panting melded with yours and they echoed in the humid room that smelled of passion, scented oils, and sex. As Lewis flicked his hips forward again, wedging himself deeper than you thought possible you screeched and gripped his back sinking your nails into his skin.
“Uuuuah!”
Lewis kissed your neck then ground his hips.
“You feel so good baby. So—fucking—good.”
As he picked up his pace you held onto him for dear life as he lifted you up, up, up into the air and through the spheres of the earth until you were floating in zero G.
“I lo—lo--,” Lewis stuttered.
Your eyes met and that was where they remained. Slipping the back of his fingers across your cheek, he pressed his lips to your nose.
“I—I can truly see myself marrying you, Y/N.”
Your heart jerked and stomach fluttered.
“I can see myself having kids with you and—loving you for the rest of my life.”
It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room leaving only carbon dioxide. It didn’t take long for you to get dizzy. Lewis’ lips met yours further dizzying you, further making you see stars. You locked your ankles behind his back and pulled him even deeper inside your heat. His groan was guttural, primal and when he finally began moving his hips again his movements were focused on one thing—claiming you completely, etching his scent and mark all over you so no one would question if you really were his. This was something more than flesh indulgence. This felt like it could be forever.
“I love you,” you whispered into his ear.
~~~~~~
-Three Weeks Later-
What. The. Fuck. Was. This?
You took a breath in but got nothing, so you did it again and again but still nothing. The more you tried and failed the more you panicked and the more you panicked the more lightheaded you became. Pressing your eyes closed you focused on your heart and tried to get its rapid beats under control. You did the counting exercises you did whenever you got overworked and slowly your heart slowed, slowly your breathing came back to normal. Slowly, you were able to get your vision back to normal.
Only when your vision did return to normal you came face to face with the thing that had started all of this. On your phone screen were several shots of Lewis, your boyfriend of seven months in a hot tub in Antarctica. It was a trip he’d tried to convince you to take with him but due to your schedule you had to turn him down. You weren’t freaking out about him going without you, you were freaking out because of the evident fact he had some girl sitting in his lap in said hot tub. You scrolled through the pictures and scanned each of them.
You’d thought that maybe it was the angle that made it seem worse than it was, or maybe it wasn’t a girl and a guy just sitting too close, or maybe it was a girl, but she wasn’t sitting on his lap just too close for comfort. However, there was no mistaking it. It was a girl, and she was on his lap although he had you, although three weeks ago before your business trip, he was in your bed whispering sweet nothings.
“What the fuck?”
You went into your phone, found Lewis’ contact and called him. It rang once, twice then went to voicemail.
“Did he just--?”
In disbelief you called again but it happened again and again and again. Now feeling anger, you tapped out a message to him.
MSG: What the fuck is this? Answer your phone.
MSG: What am I seeing with you in Antarctica?
MSG: Lewis!
He didn’t answer any of them. He didn’t answer your calls. It was radio silence. The more you scrolled through social media the more hurt you became. Everyone was speculating just which girl from his rotation it was, which one of his fuck buddies had him that weekend. A few desperates came out the woodwork claiming it was them and spilling details about his bedroom tastes and other sexual revelations and before long it was a circus.
Twenty minutes. That was all it took for you to find out where he was and luckily you were in the same city. Twenty minutes to find him and another twenty to get to him. However, when you got to his Monaco house you wished you hadn’t found him. The music was blasting so loudly the ground shook. There were people everywhere. Clearly you’d walked in on a huge party filled with bikini clad women, drinks and numerous distractions set up around the property.
“What the hell?”
Once you were inside you made your way upstairs. On the path there, scattered across the floor were pieces of clothing, bikini bottoms, tops, and underwear. Once you got closer to the top you saw opened condom wrappers, and that was when you stopped in your tracks. The fear you felt was so strong that you couldn’t move your legs for a few moments. It was crippling. It was crazy to think that a year ago any thoughts of this man were pretty much nonexistent. He didn’t mean anything to you. You could walk away from him easy peasy. Now, it was nothing like that anymore. Now you thought of him constantly, now he meant so much to you, too much, now walking away was something you couldn’t fathom.
When your legs worked again you stepped forward into the bedroom and there was Lewis on his back with two girls on either said of him giving him head. You could not believe your eyes. Your knees buckled but somehow you managed to stay upright. Lewis’ eyes found you, but he didn’t move, he laid there and allowed them to continue. A pain stabbed at your chest making you flinch. It was a pain that did not subside.
“Wh—wha—what the fuck Lewis?”
Your voice was weak. Whereas you’d left your hotel with rage and fire in your veins it had now puttered down to nothing.
“Y/N.”
He didn’t sound shocked, ashamed or as if he cared. His tone remained low, dull, uninterested.
“What the fuck!”
You walked to the side of the bed, and it was then the women sucking him off stopped. Lewis’ dick flopped forward but the only thing that registered was that he hadn’t moved.
“Get the fuck out!”
Lewis sighed then sat up leaning against the headboard, resting one arm behind his head.
“Now!”
The women climbed out of the bed as if they had not one care in the world especially about their nakedness. Rather than taking their clothes, they walked to out of the room completely bare. Once alone, you glared at him.
“What the actual fuck Lewis! What is this?!”
“What does it look like? A party.”
“A sex party? What the fuck are you doing?
“Having fun.”
That was when he pulled the blanket up to cover his soft dick.
“Having fun? You’re fucking kidding me right now!”
Lewis rolled his eyes then sighed.
“Come on Y/N, stop! Just stop already, yeah. You knew the deal bruv, you knew the deal from the beginning, from jump.”
“What did I know Lewis? Huh, what did I know? Cause I am fucking lost!”
“You knew what it was and what it wasn’t. You knew I didn’t do monogamy. you knew that wasn’t who I was. You saw the signs and the proof. Hell, you even mocked it right it in my face. Yet you thought you could change me. You thought you were going to be different, thought you were not like other girls. Get the fuck out of here!”
Your eyes widened. That rage and fire sparked again, and you saw red.
“Fuck you Lewis! That’s bullshit! You don’t do monogamy? I thought I could change you? Me? You were the one to chase me. I didn’t ask you to do that, I didn’t force you to send me flowers and love notes and presents every fucking chance you got. I didn’t ask you to wine or dine me and take me on trips. I didn’t ask to meet your brother or your family, or your friends. I didn’t ask you to take me to Thanksgiving. I didn’t ask you to rearrange your schedule to spend time with me or show up for my important dates. I never asked for anything from you Lewis!”
“Yeah right! Let’s be real with each other right now Y/N. You knew what I wanted from the very beginning. You knew what it was I could and couldn’t offer. You entertained it. It’s your fault for thinking this was any different than what it was!”
You picked up the glass of liquid on the bedside table and threw it in his face. You didn’t know what it was, and you didn’t care.
“Fuck you!”
He still sat there and that was probably what tipped you over the edge. He didn’t look one bit remorseful. He looked smug, unfeeling.
“So I imagined everything. You were just pretending. So three weeks ago, what was that? What was what you said?”
His eyes remained locked on something across the room.
“You said that you could see yourself marrying me and having kids with me. You saw yourself loving me for the rest of your life. What was that?”
He didn’t speak at once. His jaw remained clenched, and eyes focused elsewhere then you heard it. he laughed. It echoed loudly in the hollowed room and with his laughter you felt that stabbing pain more intensely. Was this how a heart broke, you wondered.
“Damn that was a good line. Right?”
Your own body answered your previous thought with near crippling pain in your chest. This was how a heart could break.
Stupid. You’d been so stupid. It hit you then. You’d bought a lie disguised as a dream.
“Wow. I thought—I actually thought that was a turning point for us.”
A heavy sigh echoed in the room. “For fuck’s sake Y/N, I’d just cum harder than I’d ever cum before because of how amazing you felt. I was seeing stars. You can’t hold me accountable for any of that shit I said.”
“So it was bullshit?”
Again, Lewis hesitated before he spoke, but he still wasn’t looking at you.
“Look at me!”
It took a few moments but when he looked at you, his eyes were cold emotionless windows to a pit of nothingness.
“We’re here now right. The facts are simple, this is the life I want to lead now. I drive fast cars and like everything else just as fast.”
The tears welled in your eyes, but they didn’t drop. They just clouded your vision of him. Ironic you thought, your eyes had always been clouded of him. You’d never seen the real him. It was all bullshit.
“So you chased me for a year, put in all that work, all that effort, all that time to fool me and make me fall in love with you and then take my virginity just to do this—to end up here?”
As the words fell from your lips you watched him closely, but he remained unmoved, remained stoic. His jaw clenched then his shoulders rose into a careless shrug.
“At least your first time was memorable with the one and only GOAT.”
He then let out a low whistle and seconds later the women reemerged and pranced over to him. You stood there and watched as they climbed back onto the bed and fell into his outstretched arms. Then there were three pairs of eyes watching you silently fall apart.
“Unless you like to watch, you should leave,” Lewis finished.
It was then your tears fell. Streams of hot tears rolled down your cheeks but as they dripped onto your shirt and the floor they just continued and flowed endlessly.
“They all told me,” you began then paused dropping your head back hoping to recall the tears that wouldn’t stop. It didn’t stop them though, they flowed out the corners of your eyes now. “They all warned me about you.”
You locked eyes with his, “I should have listened.”
Turning you walked away along the same path you’d taken to get there. Every step you took away from him your heart hurt even more, and your tears continued as if the goal was to cry a river. You were well on your way to that. Whenever you wiped them away, they only came with more force. By the time you got outside you abandoned wiping them and focused more on keeping your head high and back straight. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. Not now. Not ever.
To Be Continued.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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#if this is love i don't want it 1#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x black reader#black fanfiction#angst fanfic#f1 fanfic#lewis hamilton imagine
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a bunch of Mission Impossible fic recs
hi, i'm sorry for conning so many people into this fandom. here's some reading material.
Easy Open, by helenish
“So you and Hunt are a package deal these days,” Bryson says.
“Uh,” Benji says, jerking his head up from his computer, ballpoint in his mouth.
Ethan/Benji. Definitely the first thing you should read after watching the movies. This is my favorite kind of one-shot, the kind that manages to convey the weight of history like a 60k fic in such a compressed space. When I talk about using sex scenes to convey something about the characters, perfect example is the set dressing around the one here where the title drop happens. Way to say so fucking much about the characters through sheer implication.
in the details, by helenish
Ethan: We have an even bigger problem. Ilsa.
Benji: Ilsa. Our Ilsa?
—Mission: Impossible — Fallout (Paramount Pictures, 2018)
Ethan/Benji/Ilsa. This one is so fucking dense and amazing. I love the way Ethan is just so fucking in love with both of these people and keeps imagining them fucking and feels terrible about it, you just want Benji and Ilsa to put Ethan out of his misery, but ALSO this is hardcore physicality porn. The scene with Ilsa on Benji's shoulders is better than any sex scene I've read this year.
I'm With You, by fictionallemons
Luther's getting married again at a private resort on a tropical island. Only there's a mixup with the rooms and Benji and Ethan have to share. No big deal, right? One bed. Two friends. No problem. Ha.
Ethan/Benji. I keep rereading this one because it just has such intense longing and familiarity in it. The way it portrays Ethan and Benji as a unit, a foregone conclusion even they themselves haven't quite figured that out, is perfect. Also I love the way Ethan handles the bed situation, the low grade annoyance he has at the repeated question. Benji, get a clue, my man.
Someone New, by fictionallemons
After Fallout, Benji thinks Ethan and Ilsa are together and he only wants to be happy for them, even it kills him to see Ethan with someone else. He's got to try to get over Ethan. But some things are just impossible.
Mutual jealousy, mutual pining, cute texting, and a happy ending, of course.
Ethan/Benji. LOOK, THE WAY TO MY HEART IS ETHAN BEING JEALOUS AND NOT HANDLING IT WELL. Also the fact this fic acknowledges Ethan's emotional growth from Fallout, chef's kiss. But really the moment when Ilsa's like "Seems we missed the show" and Ethan says "I wish we had" ETHAN OH MY GOD. Also the subtle way Benji is needling Ethan a little, subconsciously at least-- it's good!
it takes a lot (to know a man), by thistableforone
"So I just… want to remind myself that we're alright."
He says it like that, with a general we that sounds more like a specific you. And because Ethan does know what it feels like, he doesn't question him any further. If Benji needs to spend time with him to feel better, he won't deny him.
Takes place after Fallout.
Ethan is recovering and Benji goes to live with him to help
Ethan/Benji. A longer one, hell yeah. This one truly wallows in the aftermath of Fallout, which is where my brain lives 90% of the time, so I appreciate it. Also Ilsa pointing out why the fuck did Luther give her that speech but not Benji-- finally someone said it. But really this fic is about Benji and it breaks my heart.
magnetic field being a little too strong, by oopshidaisy
“This is strictly recon,” Ethan says. It’s maybe the seventeenth time he’s said words to this effect since they arrived at the party. “We can’t do anything that’ll raise suspicion. Understand?”
Post-Rogue Nation. Benji and Ethan go undercover and find themselves in one of those spy jams that only surprise kissing can solve.
Ethan/Benji. This is the one with the INCREDIBLE passage about Benji realizing why Ethan's never been slapped for pulling the fake kissing thing on missions. Also I love how... this feels like a date. To Ethan, this is a fun mission with his Benji, and it feels like it. Benji's voice here is pitch perfect, feels like its right out of Rogue Nation.
The Missionary Position, by matchsticks
Ethan and Benji have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission.
Well, Ethan and Benji are already a married couple, but now they have to pretend to be pretending to be a married couple for a mission, and the rest of the team has to help them keep their secret. It'll definitely all work out fine. Probably. Hopefully.
Ethan/Benji. Listen. This one is hilarious.
THERE, there's some stuff to get you started, folks! and you can always hit up mine. I have periphery (in which everyone Benji works with is a little in love with him and Ethan just doesn't deal well), all i need is a certain trigger (in which Ilsa and Benji are in the Syndicate and Ethan trips into romancing them both), and the big AU you'll need a new name to survive this (in which Benji is Ethan's physical therapist and a lot of things start to change)
Looking over all this, it seems my favorite thing is when Ethan is just unhinged and Benji is unfortunately into that.
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Heyyy ik you’re working on something rn, but if you still want to do requests I’d request something fluffy with Jerome… like cuddling or being touchy or whatever. I’m a hoe for fluffy soft stuff, personally :)
Hey hun <3
Thank u sm for your request.
And sorry I’m so late with this 🥲
I literally have 27 story drafts for the Cam character stuff and 3 stories I started to write, and somehow I’m working on all of them from time to time but somehow I need so fuckin‘ long to finish 'em.
But requests are something to distract myself from those if I’m having kind of a writers block on them so here we fuckin‘ go, baby!
————————————
Fluffy Jerome would include:
• him being touchy. Literally all the time.
I’m sorry, but I can’t see this guy ever letting go of you, honey, nah ah.
He is always touching you, in whatever way. It doesn’t have to be holding hands all the time, even tho he loves that. How your small and soft hand fits in his large and rough ones so perfectly - It’s just chef’s kiss honestly.
When you two watch TV and sit on the couch together, cuddled up in a warm and cozy blanket, that’s big enough for the two of you, you mostly lean against him. First with just your shoulder and then with your head.
He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt the comfortable silence while watching some nostalgic disney movie,
but he nearly always puts an arm around your shoulder, laying his hand onto the top of your head, pulling you closer in the motion. Then he just softly caresses your hair with his thumb while smiling to himself when you cuddle yourself up into his side even more. It’s just so cute tbh.
He also can’t stop smiling when you two are literally anywhere and you intertwine your pinky fingers. It’s just so fuckin‘ cute to him. Like a lost puppy. And he does that sometimes too. Jerome holding physical contact>>>>
• yeah, as I already mentioned, I’m hardly convinced he loves watching Disney movies
And I believe that his inner child is obsessed with the Disney princesses. Those movies are his favorite.
When you watch those, he always criticizes if the prince, or whoever “saves“ the princess, does something stupid while trying to save her. He then explains to you, how he would save you in such a situation, which would obv be a way sm better than theirs, because u are his princess and his plan to save you would be bulletproof.
Even tho it’s a joke, he makes up those plans kinda seriously, because he wouldn’t ever risk losing you. Ever.
He‘d also appear randomly and sing Disney songs. I’m fuckin serious darling.
You’re in the kitchen, making pancakes?
Not without musical accompaniment, babe.
The kitchen door swings open and your bf storms in, blasting ‚Be our guest‘ from Beauty and the Beast on full volume while dancing gracefully around the kitchen, acting like Lumière and knowing literally every. single. word and phrase.
He should’ve gone to broadway instead of becoming a serial killer.
First, you always break out in laughter, obv. But then you join in. How couldn’t u, really?
Couple goals, if u ask me.
• okay here comes another thing I literally ALWAYS imagine happening when yourein a relationship with him.
Like, you obv think he’s pretty. Super incredibly pretty. And most of the time he isn’t really insecure about anything but he has his moments where he feels like not being enough for you. Which obv isn’t true.
You then always take a moment to really tell him how much he means to you.
You also have these random moments where you just realize over and over again how much you love him. Like, obv you know that, but I think we all know these moments where we look at a person we know and suddenly this wave of admiration washes over us? This can’t be only me guys.
Like imagine you two preparing dinner or something and you take a quick glance at him slicing tomatoes but you’re not able to take your eyes off of him.
Eventually he notices and looks back at you questioningly but amused.
„ Yn, you good? Do I have something on my face?“
You shake your head. Then you take a step forward and put a hand on his cheek, tracing his scars with your thumb.
„ What is it then?“
You follow your thumb with your eyes, admiring every single inch of his face.
„Nothing…“, you say, still not looking him in the eyes.
„You’re just so pretty.“
GIRL WHEN I TELL YOU HIS HEART MELTS?
IT‘S DRIPPING ON THE FLOOR.
He loves these moments just as much as you do. Sometimes he still can’t get his head around the fact that somebody, and then even such a cute, loving and beautiful person like you, really genuinely loves him so much.
Sometimes he even shed a tear but psst-
Don’t tell the rest of the league ;)
Jk he wouldn’t really give a fuck if anyone saw him crying. His masculinity isn’t that fragile and those are tears of joy at that so yeah
Our baby is a slaying queen-
Anyone making fun of him could end up with a bullet right between the eyes so there isn’t really a risk of that as well
But he mostly just doesn’t cry. After the abusive time with his mom, he somehow just stopped crying. He shed so many tears through that time, that there kinda weren’t any left.
And if he cries, he just does it in your presence, because you’re his comfort person and he knows he’s safe with you.
It’s so cute-
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Hope u like it. I‘ll edit this later if you don’t mind-
And I’ll probably post more of this kinda stuff bcs tf this is cute so yeah.
If anything you had in mind wasn’t in here, feel free to let me know <3
#spotify#wattpad#fanfiction#jerome valeska#fanfic#gotham#jerome valeska x reader#gotham jerome#jerome x fem reader#jerome oneshot#jerome valeska fanfiction#jerome valeska imagine#jerome gotham#jerome x reader#jerome imagine#cameron monaghan gotham#gotham x reader#gotham fanfiction
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Prompts to sink your teeth into 27 and Taakitz please and thank you!
“Balls to the walls, can you believe it’s been ten years since graduation?” Taako is laying upside down on Kravitz’s couch, kicking his feet in the air aimlessly.
“Not on my balls or my walls,” Kravitz decides, snorting. He pulls the laundry out of the dryer and dumps it in a basket, frowning as static zaps him. “It’s truly wild to think about. I don’t think I’m going to go to the reunion, if they even invite me, you know? Like, I think I was weird enough in high school that I don’t even get recruitment attempts for MLMs-”
“You just haven’t met the right one yet,” Taako chastises. “Maybe Pampered Chef is for you.”
“I think I’m more of a Tupperware bitch.”
“I’d love to keep you in a Tupperware. I’d poke holes in the top for you and everything.” Taako flips over and rights himself, woozy and red in the face.
“What, like a grasshopper?”
“Nah, like a cool snake I found. But just a widdle one.”
Kravitz is oddly touched. It really adds a layer onto the thing he and Taako are absolutely, one hundred percent talking around: ten years since graduation also marks ten years since they made a marriage pact and swore a blood oath behind the Denny’s.
A decade is long enough, yeah?
Yeah, lots of people get married by the time they’re 28. It’s normal. We don’t want to be unnormal.
I think that ship has sailed, dude.
Forget the ship. It doesn’t have to be real. It’s just…you know, motivation.
A kick in the ass. Yeah.
Something to keep us looking. Because- romance is hard!
You think it’ll get less hard?
No, I don’t think it will, Taako. I don’t think it will.
Kravitz looks at Taako. It was stupid back then. It’d be stupider to bring it up now. He’s been head over heels for an embarrassingly long time. It was a joke, mostly. A stupid teenager thing. They’re almost thirty, for fuck’s sake.
He brings the basket over to the couch and sits beside Taako. Their sides touch, and Taako is warm.
They’re almost thirty, and Taako’s twin is getting married. And here they are, roommates, alone, together. Kravitz doesn’t know the last time he went on a date, but the last time Taako did was about four months ago. It’s not looking good on the ‘surely some other, perfecter guy will come around and Kravitz will be able to transfer some of the love beating under the floorboards to some regular, unsuspecting dude’ front.
“It’s just wild,” Taako sighs, clearly on the same choo-choo. “I mean, I’m happy for her, like-”
“Like between her and Barry I’ve been ready to flush myself down the toilet for-”
“So long. SO long!”
“Physically painful,” Kravitz agrees, not least because it made him incredibly aware of his own bullshit. “Like you said, so happy for them, and I mean, obviously w- I’ll show up to the wedding with bells on-”
“You bet your sweet ass we will. But like, you think my sad jester ass is getting any jingling action?” Taako gives him a sorrowful puppy dog face, like a pathetic court fool left in a cardboard box in the rain, and Kravitz laughs so hard he worries he’s going to pass out. He imagines those jingle bells a’janglin’. But he’d better not.
He’d really better not.
“It’s not that I don’t…It’s- It’s not like I want to make either of them feel bad...” Kravitz starts.
“Definitely not.”
“But I almost want to- cause a bit of a scene?” He looks at Taako. Taako perks up, tugging down his imaginary jester hat for Serious Mode.
“I love causing scenes,” Taako says affectionately. “You know this.”
“I know this, and I agree with you,” Kravitz replies, grinning. Warm laundry forgotten. Socks, stay unpaired. Fuck your romantic life right up the same alley as his own. “What are you thinking? I’m hearing gears turning.”
“Industry music doot-dooting,” Taako says with a nod. “Listen.”
“Listening. You know I’m listening.”
“It- I mean, just for fun, right, nobody gets hurt, it’s fine, everything is fine? It’s for funsies.”
“For funsies,” Kravitz echoes.
“It would be soooo funny if we got engaged right before Lup’s wedding.”
“Yeah?” Kravitz hears the ocean in his ears. Maybe he got a seashell stuck in there. You know how he is, always getting seashells in places.
“Yeah! Yeah. Just as a fun prank, and for no other reason. There’s no way this could backfire.”
“Uhuh,” Kravitz says. “It- It would be easy, even. People say we act like a couple all the time. Haha.” Hopefully Taako doesn’t notice that Kravitz said ha-ha instead of laughing. It’s probably fine. Totally regular, even. He’s? Normal.
“Absolutely.” There’s a manic look in Taako’s eyes, and Kravitz could lose himself in them like a stupid little boat in the Bermuda Triangle. Geometry never was his strong suit, and this current is pulling him under. How many times in his life has he gotten involved with something stupid because of Taako? Not to mention all of the stupid ideas Taako’s encouraged him to follow through on.
God, is that why he minored in trombone?
He’s so fucked. There’s no way this is ending well. There’s no way they walk out of this unscathed.
“It would be funny,” he admits.
“So funny.” Taako nods enthusiastically, like this is the greatest idea he’s ever had in his life. Fuck all those other bargain bin ideas, this is their ticket to the limelight. Fake dating.
Fake engagement, even.
Kravitz’s hand grips the upholstery of the couch, not even a full inch away from Taako’s hand.
“Why not?”
#taz#taakitz#the adventure zone#tazb#fan5fics#the adventure zone balance#taz balance#taakitz fic#thank you!!
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Recommending Ao3 fanfics — bsd
Yeah, again, recommending fanfics! Just eat them all, I know yall are hungry.
Hope yall enjoy these series and maybe I'll continue to post these.
Circus tent [no ship].
Summary: Dazai had never known how to react. He knew watching well - he watched blood pour out of gunshot wounds, watched Mori slit the Old Boss’ throat, watched Chuuya’s beatific dance of destruction every time it was deemed needed. But that’s the extent of his natural abilities.
Dazai knew only to watch, but never to react. He was not built to interact like that. He was not meant to be anything more than a passing spector, watching the coming and going of mortal lives.
Dazai had never known how to react. But he’d learnt to act. It was necessary, and inevitable. He was a ghost made to puppet mortal flesh, and that meant that one way or another he would be seen and he would affect those around him - no matter how much he detested it.
So Dazai had learnt to act. He wasn’t very good at it. He knew jokes eased social pressure. He knew comedy would help him slip through conversations. And so he fashioned himself a clown. Not a very good one, but a clown nonetheless! His eerie blankness hidden behind an act of jovial foolishness. What a joke! It was the comedy of the century, a true magnum opus! And so Dazai built his circus tent.
Letter for Mackerel — [soukoku]
Summary: I started to come more often, to check on you. I can't see you, hear you, feel you; I can only imagine.
I would like to know that you hear me, that you know how much I hate you for leaving me, and how much I love you to be here more often than I could be when you were with me.
Retrouvailles (Chase me, Love me.) — [soukoku]
Summary: A derived situation of when Chuuya goes down to the attic/torture chamber where Dazai is locked up in chains, detained by the Port Mafia (Anime: Ep9,S1: The Beauty is Quiet Like a Stone Statue), and Dazai tries to gain Chuuya's forgiveness.
Ghost — [soukoku]
Summary: The first time Dazai tried to kill himself with a blade, he was fifteen. He tried other things before, of course; cocktails of pills and carefully knotted rope were no stranger to him. But blades were a new concept entirely, an untapped market he was honestly surprised he hadn’t tried before.
The first time Dazai tried to kill himself with a blade, he didn’t go too far. It was painful. Drops of blood pooled around the cuts and began dripping down his arm. But as much as he yearned for the sweet release of death, as blurry as his vision got from the blood loss, his heart never stopped.
Basically, Dazai's journey with his depression based on the song Ghost by Badflower. Huge TW for self harm and suicide.
A Cloth Heart and the Hands that Sow — [soukoku]
Summary: Forgiveness took time but Dazai would let go of every grudge if it meant he got to be with Chuuya. Soulmates polished through years of half-hearted petty fights and late-night talks, they were molded through each other.
Dazai could never ask for anything more than Chuuya’s hatred but he would worship Chuuya’s love. That was just how they were, stubborn and loving, they waded through the currents of life’s flood only to breathe each other in.
Or
Chuuya and Dazai are so in love it physically hurt, they finally talk about things like normal people let's go(shocking I know)
Or
Soukoku x Somewhere Only We Know by Keanu
Dead People don't come to Life — [dazai]
Summary: “Dazai, i’m serious, do not even dare hang up this pho-”
Ranpo’s blood went cold as he was interrupted by a loud noise.
A gunshot.
Dazai's missing. Normal, right?
Until Yosano receives a bone-chilling call, and the agency is reminded that dead people don't come back to life.
Dead Plate — [soukoku]
Chuuya Nakahara gets a new waiting job at his local fancy restaurant, owned by none other than Dazai Osamu. A chef with incredible culinary skills, though Chuuya isn't a fan of his food.
He's only planning to work there for a week, but what happens when the head chef takes a liking to the waiter?
Or
Dazai Osamu becomes a little too obsessed with making Chuuya enjoy his food, and goes a tad too far...
Skk x Dead plate!!
He was a Sk8er boi, he said annoy you l8r boi — [soukoku?]
Summary: The year?
2003ish.
The vibe?
Fresh off a painful split from his friends, skater boy Chuuya ends up moving in with the weird kid Dazai and his guardian Mori & is thrust into high school with all the teen angst, sexuality confusion, popularity politics, and pranks one might find there. Oh, and that rather mysterious, disturbing past of his comes to light. Only blasting pop punk music will save him.
Meanwhile, Dazai’s suicidal plans have been interrupted by a new toy—dog, boy, whatever—to play with. If only he could stop being an asshole and figure out what these strange new emotions mean.
And then why don’t either of them feel like real human teenagers?
The dynamic?
“Dazai wants to keep him in a cage like a canary—chattering loudly in the corner, pretty to look at, something he could sink his teeth into.” VS. “Chuuya only allows himself a moment of sadness for Dazai, before thinking, He’s so fucking annoying, no wonder he’s lonely.”
And I taste happiness on your lips — [soukoku]
Summary: “I know you like looking at me in the morning”.
He still hasn’t opened his eyes and his voice is still half asleep. Chuuya's heart has grown ten sizes, he has no idea how it can still fit into his ribcage. He doesn’t bother to find some snarky reply to Dazai’s comment - he’s right after all.
“I wouldn’t let you sleep in my bed if I didn't like looking at you”.
“Our bed”.
And that's also true – Chuuya can't remember the last time he slept alone, nor the last time he walked around his house without finding traces of Dazai everywhere. Ours.
Happiness, yes, this must be it, there’s no other possible answer.
Once More to See You — [soukoku]
Summary: “…You won’t stay.” Chuuya didn’t lift his head, simply staring idly at the crab patterns on the younger’s shirt.
Dazai closed his eyes with a slow exhale. “Yes. You know why.” He squeezed his hand.
Chuuya squeezed back, eyes brimming with a sadness only preserved for this conversation. “Yeah…I’m sorry, Osamu.”
The brunette didn’t reply, only pulling Chuuya closer and clinging to him tightly.
---
Chuuya and Dazai struggle with hiding their relationship from public eye, especially from their own organisations. A realistic take on how Soukoku's relationship would affect their lives.
Flowers — [soukoku]
Summary: “Most men don't receive flowers until their funeral.”
Was something Dazai overheard grabbing his usual coffee.
His first thought was “Couldn't be me, Chuuya gets me flowers for almost every occasion!”
His second thought was “Has Chuuya ever received flowers?”
Admittedly, never from Dazai though. For all the years they’ve been together, it’s always been Chuuya giving him flowers.
But Chuuya wouldn’t have to wait until his funeral to receive flowers, not if Dazai had anything to do with it.
In the Mirror, I Bloom — [soukoku]
Summary: It twists him, turns him, curls in his chest like something alive, something he knows but can’t dare to name. Chuuya curses the red-black petals that fall from his lips, these nearly rotten things that tear him apart from the inside out. Part of him wants to rip his own traitorous heart out, through a ribcage shattered by feelings he can’t contain.
Anger is easy, a thing he’s learned to control. This— whatever the hell this is— is not.
Or at least it’s easier to feel as though this is beyond his own control, because Chuuya is not in love.
(It feels like a lie even to himself.)
After he's hit by a strange ability, Chuuya is forced to consider truths he'd much rather keep hidden- but not everything is as simple it seems.
Vicious Footsteps — [soukoku]
Summary: "Please don't leave me, don't leave me in this hellhole with him"
"I'm sorry Dazai, I can't stay here any longer. Thank you for everything, I did enjoy hanging out with you but...this is where we part ways."
"Wait!-"
He closed the door on him, hoping he would also eventually look for the light just like Chuuya.
Eventually, 2 years later they reunited again.
Will Dazai forgive him after 4 years of no contact?
a soukoku role-reversal fanfic
Chuuya leaves the port mafia after the death of the flags, but Dazai does not take it well and start to become more obsessive.
It Was All in My Mind — [soukoku]
Summary: Dazai can’t cope with Chuuya’s death or being stuck in the Port Mafia, so he literally goes crazy and finally kills himself.
#bsd#dazai osamu#bungou stray dogs#osamudazai#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#dvzaiosamu#soukoku#fanfic#ao3 fanfic
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mmmm draxum rant under cut vvv (ab how the fandom treats him not the guy himself)
i love the rottmnt fandom but the way that ppl treat draxum.. y'all love evil bastards but can't STAND when they get redeemed in a satisfying (and character-accurate) way fr. his backstory is very clearly that of a survivor amongst a species that, for the most part, had been shoved into one city underneath New York, by force.
and hell yeah draxum was an evil bitch about it! he wanted to wipe humanity tf out! but when you realize that all he's experienced with humans was essentially them shoving his kind underground, u sorta understand why he does what he does.
but then in fics he's this like.. heinous bastard willing to commit every form of torture imaginable when that's literally not him? at all?? he's never been shown to torture people. the closest we saw was in the first episode when the pizza delovery guy asked if the oozquito would hurt and he said "yes.. if i'm doing it right" and that's IT. that is IT.
and then he got another perspective of humanity through mikey! he saw the mother & her kid during that one episode and decided oh fuck they're just like us fr!! and SAVED her ass. even if he was and always would be all shy about it n shit, he still HELPED humanity in the end. MULTIPLE TIMES.
and again, the fics i read? love them. love them so much. they're so well written and the storylines are always CHEFS KISS but every time it goes over draxum being a ✨evil bastard willing to psychological torture anyone and anything to get to his goal✨ i either sit through it with a mental >:[ in my head or i skip it entirely, because reading it feels like a betrayal of an incredibly well written character and his redemption.
anyways i am a draxum apologist through & through. if you like making him that way, good on you for vibin, but personally i want the guy to be happy in the end
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Can u do the reader in the fic “such happiness in such dull place” be someone who loves to bake and cook for their loved ones and who has a incredible regeneration and healing powers, but if they use them too much they get tired and sleep for a whole day continuous and might get seriously sick but they cant help to not use their powers on anyone who is in pain.
Thank you!
But I just can't help it!
Let's ignore the fact that I don't remember my own titles and had to look for it-
💚Ask💚
Listen, now Odin isn't an overprotective parent but he does have his limit.
You baking and cooking is already worrying him to the point he'll put Loki in charge to watch over you in case you get burned.
Odin has put rules in place to make sure you don't overuse your regeneration and healing, but you being far too kind has lead you to be in the infirmary more times then he'll like.
He knows you can't help it, but he swears he feels his hair going grayer everytime you do it. He won't prohibit you from doing it, but please, just listen to him and don't use it so often.
"Just cause someone is in pain doesn't mean you should heal them, you could get extremely sick"
- Odin @ you for the 96th time that month
Now onto a different topic, Odin quite enjoys the sweet and savory things you make, yes he worries more then he'll admit about you being so close to fire but he does like anything you make.
No he won't share.
Yes he will kiss the chef, on the head cause that chef is the sweetest being in Asgard.
Hunnin and Munnin also get nice bowls of meat you cook, but they ain't important.
He sits on the counter everytime he's in charge of you while in the kitchen.
He also gives you pointers for what spices to add so he's not just staring into your soul.
Loki isn't a baker so he just watches or grabs any console he brought with him and plays games.
Don't think he's not watching you tho- cause he is
Loki will make sure you're not hurt, he might be a trickster but he knows plenty about taking care of others.
He won't admit it but he gets far too worried and imagines the worst case scenario whenever you use your healing on others too much. He has cracked before in front if others, but pride be dammed cause his sweet and kind little sibling is sick.
On a lighter note, if you just get tired he'll put you to bed.
Now, Thor isn't an emotionless war head who only feels happiness when he finds a strong opponent. In fact, he can be one of the most gentle gods when it comes to you.
He doesn't know anything about a kitchen (he put a lemon in the microwave to "make the sour go away") so he stays clear of that.
It's not that he doesn't trust Loki, I mean be doesn't but he will admit Loki knows more about a kitchen then he does.
However, if you ever get an interest in gardening, he's the one to go to.
Thor knows how sick you can get when using your abilities, yes he does worry but he knows you'll be fine because the nurses and doctors in Asgard will do anything to make sure you're fine. After all, no one would want his father to be furious.
Thor would also teach you the basics of self defense. You definitely won't need it but better safe then sorry, plus it's his way of making sure you're fully prepared for anything.
Again as many others have said, Thor isn't good with his words, so he'll spend time with you to show that he indeed lives his little sibling.
#shuumatsu no valkyrie#record of ragnarok#ror#snv#record of ragnarok x reader#shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader#snv odin#ror odin
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