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sinful-lanterns · 3 months

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POPSICLE

synopsis: enjoying a popsicle makes their imagination wander...

featuring: serpent, coquelic, cabernet, adela, kelvin

rating: 18+ smut (minors dni)

warnings: gn! reader, transfem characters (all of them), double coc.ks/hemipenes (serpent), no actual s.ex but it is very much implied, implied s.ex, implied mas.turbation, dirty thoughts, bon.ers, pining, mentions of bl.owjo.bs, voyeur.ism (coquelic), pwp

art credits: horimiya

SERPENT

The summer season was one of Serpent’s least favorite seasons while living in the Bureau. Usually because if she were back at home, she’d spend everyday just lounging around naked, due to the fact that she was cold blooded and absorbed the temperature of the environment around her. Unfortunately for her, the Bureau required Serpent to wear clothes 24/7 when around other Sinners, and poor Serpent was always at the boiling point whenever she kept her clothes strewn on.

She’s protested against the clothes rule once before, but was quickly shut down by the Chief for her public indecency. Now that she was forced to keep her clothes on through the boiling months of summer, poor Serpent was currently dying while sitting in front of the AC to catch a break.

“Mmmmmmpf tooo hottttt…” Serpent whined, her body sweating way too much thanks to the heat of the room. Her face was flushed and she was on the verge of tears with how grumpy and hot she was, wanting something to cool her down quick.

“Serpent?” Her head turned around to see you peeking your head through the door. “Ah, little human! Hellooooo~!”

Though awfully sweaty, she flashed you a toothy smile and flicked her snake tongue out as a greeting. “What brings my little human to the screening room? Are you hot too?”

“Yeah, most of the ACs around the Bureau are broken and are being fixed by Demolia or Eureka. This is the only room with somewhat decent air conditioning.” You smiled and held up two popsicles in your hand. “I brought popsicles from the kitchen.”

“Ooooooh.” Serpent perked up at that and held up her hands for one. “What flavor?”

“Grape and strawberry.”

“I’ll take grape.”

You tossed her the grape popsicle and opened yours with ease, sliding down to sit by Serpent near the air conditioner and dig into your icy treat. Serpent had already begun to munch on her grape popsicle while you did so, and she was perfectly content with this little snack, until she looked over to see you sucking on your own popsicle.

Sucking rather interestingly Serpent noted.

“Ah…” her cheeks flushed quietly at the sight of your lips pursing over the top of the popsicle and running your tongue across it. She knew you weren’t trying to be…suggestive in any way (she thought) but with the way your lips wrapped so perfectly around the head of the popsicle, she couldn’t help but let her innocent mind wander…

Would your lips wrap that perfectly around her two dicks? Serpent bit her lip at the thought. Would your pretty tongue lap over her tip so eagerly? Stroking and caressing over the head of her second cock, while beads of her precum spilled past the first tip and providing “flavor” to your eager tongue?

The snake woman gulped and shifted her gaze over to you again, breath hitching as she watched you unconsciously bob your head down to suck on the length of the popsicle a bit more.

Oh…oh! Serpent felt all the blood rush to her face, as well as her two hemipenes down below, watching the way your head bobbed down with drops of popsicle juice dripping from the sides. She felt one of her cocks begin to twitch with arousal. Then the second. Then finally both cocks were stirring up with excitement at the thought of you going down at her. If she was hot then, then she was definitely hot now, as heat was pulsing through her veins with a need to see her pretty cocks stuffed down your throat (and other places).

Her breath was heavy and laborious, imagining the sight of you down on her knees, smirking up at her while you pushed her dress up to tug at her panties with desire. She gulped when she pictured you slowly licking your hot tongue from the base to the shaft, before finally engulfing her entire tip into your mouth and fondling her second cock with your hand. Serpent groaned at the sight, and was about to picture you swallowing her whole when—

“Serpent? Serpent?!”

Her eyes widened and she turned to look at you again, face flushing as she wondered if you could see her picturing you in so many lewd thoughts. Or even worse, could you see her erections? Was she having a prominent boner(s) right now?!

“I— I…uhm…”

“Your popsicle is melting. It’s all over your hand.”

You sighed and grabbed a napkin to wipe the sticky mess off Serpent’s hand, chuckling a bit at how silly she was for letting her treat get messy like this. “You were daydreaming so much that it began making a mess on the floor. Glad to see none of it spilled on your dress, but what were you thinking about?”

“Ah…nothing! I have to go, sorry!” Serpent flashed you a nervous smile and quickly got up to leave the screening room. She felt bad for leaving you caught off guard, but she was in a rush to get to her cell room in order to see if anything “embarrassing” happened to her.

The moment she was safe and locked in the privacy of her own room, Serpent sighed and looked down to see the hem of her dress. Sure enough, two, prominent boners were standing tall and straining against the fabric of her underwear, causing Serpent to groan with how pent up and horny she was. “Ohhhhh whyyyyyy…” she whined, making her way to her bed to satisfy her cocks’ cravings. Today was going to be an even hotter day for her it seems…

COQUELIC

Coquelic had filed several complaints to the Chief of the MBCC throughout the early days of summer. When the majority of the ACs broke down in all the buildings, Coquelic was left lazing around in her room with Sumire or Garofano fanning her to keep her cool. Very spoiled was the Garden Master indeed, but without her trusty flower girls to dote on her every need, Coquelic would’ve melted like a puddle by now under the heat.

“Sumire, darling. Do put more wrist work in that fan, I’m starting to glisten.”

Coquelic groans and runs a finger across her forehead, pouting at the way she felt the slightest bit of slick coat her skin. “I’m losing so much water…! My poor complexion…”

“Mentor, with all due respect, it is just a little bit of sweat.”

Poor Sumire was sweating a lot more than Coquelic was, due to the fact she was working to keep Coquelic happy, all the while having no AC or fanning herself. Though the Garden was full of assassins who could definitely handle hotter temperatures than this, it didn’t mean it was exactly “comfortable” for those having to sit around and just take in the scorching heat. At least with the missions the Garden girls had something to distract themselves with…

At the door to her room opening slightly, both Coquelic and Sumire turned to see you peeking in your head through the door. At the sight of your familiar face, Coquelic immediately perked up and sat up in her bed. “My flower! You’ve come to visit I see…” Coquelic chimed, a bright smile filling her once uncomfortable face. “Sumire, you are dismissed. And while you’re at it, get yourself something cold at the cafeteria. You look awfully red.”

Sumire sighed and bowed in respect, getting up from her position to walk past you and leave. As she did so however, she flashed you a smile and mouthed the words “thank you” as if she were finally relieved to get a break from her mentor’s demands.

When she finally left, Coquelic opened her arms for you to come join her in bed, eager to have someone like you keep her company on this hellish day. “My flower, what brings you here into my sanctuary? Are you here to spoil me again?”

“You can say that. I brought some popsicles from the cafeteria kitchen, Kelvin is making them. Would you like some?”

“Oh? A cold, sweet treat for me? Give me a red one, it matches my lipstick.”

You handed her the red, unknown flavor of popsicle and sat down besides Coquelic on her bed. The moment the cold treat graced the mentor’s lips, she let out a delighted sound of relief and began eating with vigor. “Mm, how perfect. That Kelvin girl sure is talented…”

You chuckled and nodded, starting to suck on your own popsicle while staring off into space. You were content with just sitting there and soaking in the company of your beloved Coquelic, yet it seems with the way you were ravaging your popsicle, Coquelic had taken notice and began letting her eyes wander to your mouth…

With her own sugary treat halfway in her mouth, she let her red eyes fixate on the way you were sucking nonchalantly on your ice-cold popsicle. She knew you weren’t doing it on purpose, (at least, it seemed that way to her) but Coquelic couldn’t help but drag her own tongue across her lips with interest at how sensual your popsicle eating was…

You and Coquelic had a special relationship with each other. Not necessarily official lovers, but you’ve definitely explored each other’s bodies before several times. Her mind flashed back to memories of you towering over her in bed, hand fisting the base of her small, yet beautiful cock, with your face hovering over the hot head of her length.

Her cheeks went pink at the memory. Recalling the way you shyly smoothed your tongue over her tip and inched your way further at a snail’s pace. You were so shy and meek back then, too scared to touch the Master of the Garden like this with your lips, before Coquelic had to take her own matters into her hands and shove you down further by forcing her hands down on your scalp.

Coquelic drooled a bit inside her mouth when she recalled how you choked slightly even on her smaller size. You were so adorable with the way you looked up at her with lust, mouth bobbing up and down her short length and causing the master to buck her hips up into your throat.

“Your tongue work is impressive as always.” Coquelic comments suddenly, smirking up at you with half lidded eyes. That caught you off guard and you nearly choked on your popsicle, blushing and turning to the Garden master. “C…Coquelic…”

“Oh, don’t stop now. Come on, give me a show.” Coquelic teased, eyes trailing down to the base of her practically lingerie attire. “I like it very much…”

Your eyes followed her gaze and your breath hitched at the sight. Through the thin, translucent fabric of her lace, a small bulge was prominent with bits of wetness staining the cloth. It occurred to you that Coquelic had been watching you this entire time letting her mind fill in the imagination of you sucking her cock rather than that popsicle…

“When you’re finished with that, would you like to enjoy another kind of popsicle, my dear?” Coquelic teased, gesturing to the boner under her nightgown.

“Ah, well…” your cheeks flushed but you couldn’t help but find the offer enticing. “Alright.” “Splendid!” Coquelic grinned and leaned back against her bed, continuing to eat her popsicle before fishing out her shaft to masturbate to the sight of you eating your treat. “Just take your time. I’m sure we’ll both enjoy the show…”

CABERNET

Cabernet was among the majority of the sinners who couldn’t handle the heatwave at the MBCC. For almost every meal, she’s requested a cold dish to combat the heat. Ice cream sundaes, cold soba noodles, fresh fruit sandwiches. Heck, Cabernet had even resorted to putting her precious grapes in the freezer of the MBCC’s cafeteria kitchen. The cold crunch of her beloved fruits being the only thing saving Cabernet from sweating her face off among the sea of sweaty sinners.

Usually the calm and composed food critic would be able to find an alternative food item to keep herself from dying of starvation (plus the heat), but on this particular day, it was just too hot that Cabernet couldn’t even find the appetite to eat something fresh. Every food presented to her was either too warm, or lacking in flavor from the frost. Poor Cabernet was just slouching over one of the cafeteria tables and trying to absorb the cold from the metal. It was a pitiful sight, and Kelvin began working on a solution to make the tastiest popsicle for Cabernet’s standards.

“Psst. Hey.” Kelvin flagged you over when you walked past the kitchen one morning. She had been busy preparing popsicles for the entire Bureau ever since the air conditioning in the building broke, so when you walked in, you could see an assortment of several different flavors, plus a batch of popsicles that definitely stood out from the bunch with how “fancy” it looked.

“Hey Kelvin, did you need something?” You tilted your head and looked down at her.

“Yeah, can you do me a favor? I’ve been making popsicles for everyone at the Bureau, but Cabernet’s popsicles are a special case.” Kelvin laughed nervously and presented a tray of gourmet, special popsicles that had bits of magenta dragon fruit and unique coloration you had never seen before. “Can you give these to her? I feel bad that she’s suffering immensely through the heat wave.”

“Yeah, of course!” You smiled and took the tray from her hands. “Where is Cabernet currently?”

“She’s lying on that table over there.” Kelvin pointed to a redhead slouching over a cold table in the corner, hair a mess as she pressed her face against the surface and looked to be in such a miserable state. You felt a pang of sympathy for the poor woman after seeing her all sweaty and messy from the heat of the Bureau, so you nodded quickly and began making your way over to her. “I’ll go deliver these to her, thanks.”

Approaching the hot redhead at her table, you set the tray down and Cabernet immediately perked up at the smell. “Oh, hello there,” Cabernet hummed, looking up at you and trying her best to smile despite suffering. “What did you bring me, dear?”

“Kelvin made you some special popsicles with her own recipe. I’m not sure what’s in them, but they sure do look fancy.”

“They do indeed…” Cabernet hums, glancing over at the magenta popsicles with interest. “Would you like to try one with me?”

“Really?” Cabernet nods and generously hands you a dragon fruit popsicle. “I can’t finish this all. Please, try one with me.” She smiles and wipes a bit of sweat away from her brow before picking up her own popsicle. “Cheers, let’s enjoy this cold treat together.”

She teasingly taps the tip of her own popsicle against yours, mocking a sort of champagne glass clink before slipping the popsicle in her mouth. “Mmmm…Kelvin certainly outdid herself this time. I can taste all the flavors of fruit she put in here, what do you think dear?”

“Mm, I’ve never tasted anything like this before…” you muttered with utter surprise, seemingly enjoying the strange new treat. “It’s refreshing and sweet, but not too sweet. I can even taste hints of citrus and lemon within the popsicle…”

Cabernet’s eyes gleamed with amusement at your analysis. She chuckled before continuing to lick at her popsicle with refreshment. “I didn’t take you to be such the food critic, dear.” Cabernet teased, before a brief silence overcame the two of you, letting Cabernet’s eyes wander to your lips.

Cabernet was one to notice people’s mouths often, yet this time she took interest in the way you savored the popsicle on your tongue. The way you hungrily slurped up and licked the droplets of juice dripping from the ice, tracing your tongue over each side and crevice while closing your eyes in pure bliss for how refreshing the popsicle was in the heat…

Cabernet licked her lips and let her eyes drown out in your enjoyment. A certain hunger filling the food critic as she imagined how you’d devour something else if you were that excited to eat something phallic shaped.

Would you slurp up her cum like that if you were to suck her off? Would you make those breathtakingly delicious sounds like you were right now when she leaks too much and accidentally ejaculates a mouthful into your throat from how cute you were? Would the taste of Cabernet bring you bliss like this as you were right now?

She was definitely a woman with a high libido and she made it clear. Swallowing the drool that was filling up her mouth and letting her thoughts run wild of you between her legs and getting cockdrunk off her taste and taste alone. Oh how she wishes she could see you enjoy how sweet she was, semen dribbling down your chin just like how the popsicle juices were currently making a mess on your face.

“So messy, aren’t you?” Cabernet hums, taking her napkin and dotingly wiping the juice from your chin. “No need to be so ravenous, my dear. We have plenty of popsicles to devour.”

She smiles and suddenly tilts your chin up with the edge of her fingers, eyes going half lidded with arousal before whispering in your ear. “Plenty of popsicles, and one you could savor forever.”

And judging from the small boner straining against Cabernet’s dress, you had a small idea of just what kind of popsicle Cabernet was referring to. It was one you would savor forever indeed…

ADELA

Because of how hot it had become in the Bureau, Adela began getting frequent customers, both staff and sinners alike, all asking for shorter and thinner haircuts to get just a bit more breeze on their skin while the ACs were all broken.

Poor Adela had been stuck in her cell room snipping away hair for nearly everyone at the Bureau. Don’t get her wrong, she loved her job with a burning passion, but when almost all the ACs were broken and there wasn’t much ventilation circling through the walls (plus the added smell of hair chemicals and constant work from day to night), Adela was beginning to feel fatigued and had to take a small break in the screening room where there was one working AC in the whole building.

She was covered in a thin layer of sweat as she took a sip from her ice cold water bottle to cool off. She was rethinking her working hours for the summer since she was getting more fatigued the further they went into summer, and was lost in thought until she heard the screening room door open.

“Adela?”

“Oh, hello there sweetheart.”

Adela flashed you a soft smile and immediately set down her water bottle. “What brings you to find me? Are you in need of a haircut? Everyone has been asking for one nowadays, it’s just too hot to function with long, thick hair…”

She chuckled and looked up at you, patting the spot beside her for you to sit down. “No, maybe next time.” You responded, smiling before sitting down next to her as she requested. “I came to give you something!”

“Oh?” Adela chuckles and tilts her head fondly. “You didn’t have to get me anything. Just your presence is enough for me.”

“I know, but this time the gift is really worth it.” You smiled, holding up two popsicles in your hand. “The kitchen had been hard at work making popsicles for everybody, so I snatched two for us to enjoy!”

Adela smiled and blushed slightly at your generosity. “You really didn’t have to do that for me, sweetheart. I could’ve grabbed them myself, but…thank you.” She seemed very grateful for the sugary, cold, treat, and took one of the popsicles from your hand. “No problem, I figured since you were working so hard these past few days, you needed something cold to cool you down.”

You frowned and got a bit pouty at the thought. “Everyone needs to wait a little with their haircuts. They’re overworking you on so many hot days…there’s only so much of you to go around.”

Adela laughed softly at the way you got so defensive over her, patting the top of your head soothingly. “It’s my job, I like making people happy with their haircuts. It does get hot sometimes, but I can handle it. I thank you for worrying about me, though.”

Oh how Adela wanted to kiss you badly for how much you cared for her. You were just so cute and endearing in her eyes, yet she refrained from showing you affection for fear of ruining your friendship. “Well, enough pouting. Let us enjoy this treat, shall we?”

She smiles and begins unwrapping her popsicle to enjoy. When you finally relaxed and eased up your tension, Adela sighs with content as the two of you were engulfed in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t often that Adela got to have a relaxing time like this with someone she deeply cared about, so to have someone like you spend time with her on her break, really brought the hairdresser at ease.

“Ah, mine’s melting a bit.”

“Careful dear. You don’t want to spill on your clothes—”

Adela glanced over at you and her breath hitched at the sight of you tracing your tongue up along the length of your popsicle, licking up all the dripping juices and trying to clean the mess off your hand with your tongue. The sight of you doing this reminded her of…not so innocent things as blood rushed to her cheeks and made her blush.

“Oh…here, let me help you.” Adela grabbed a few spare napkins and helped clean the mess off your hand and chin. She adored the sight of your clumsiness and found herself fluttering over the way you looked up at her with gratitude. “Thanks, sorry. I guess I should’ve accounted that these popsicles would be a bit messy.”

You gave her a small, innocently messy smile and poor Adela felt her tights suddenly feel restrictive against her lower areas. A pulse of heat shot through her cock, causing her to stifle a whimper and feel herself strain against her tights. Without warning, Adela felt her innocent mind cloud with images of your hand wrapping around her length. The long, yet skinny length twitching under your touch before you lean down to grasp the tip into your lips and smirk up at her with mischief in your eyes.

Adela felt guilty. She hated and loved the fact that she was imagining you in such inappropriate positions. She wanted to get rid of these thoughts, but her mind started spiraling and soon she was picturing you kneeling by her bed, thighs parted slightly with your innocent eyes looking up at her and pleasing her length with that tight throat of yours. Oh how she could just imagine your tongue tracing over each individual vein ribbing along her cock, knowing full well that you’d enjoy a stimulating sensation such as that against your mouth…

Darn it… Adela was getting hard. Adela rarely gets hard with how she always had the best thoughts and intentions of her loved ones, yet when you were licking that frozen treat of yours so sensually, how could Adela not picture you replacing that popsicle of yours with her cock?

“Ah, apologies my dear. But I’m afraid I must head back to work. Thank you for keeping me company,” Adela says in a quiet tone, getting up before you could say anything else and quickly making her way back to her room. After locking the door and making sure no one could get in, Adela groaned and slid her tights down, her erect cock popping free with beads of precum leaking down the tip, as she now had a rock hard boner to deal with before seeing other customers… Adela sighed and rubbed her face in frustration. It looks like she’d be spending the rest of her break trying to relieve herself of this monster, sitting down on the chair her customers oftentimes sat on, before touching herself to thoughts of cumming down your throat…

KELVIN

For the past few days at the Bureau, Kelvin was hard at work preparing popsicles for everyone, ever since the air conditioning units all broke for seemingly no reason. Staff and sinners alike were all sending so many complaints to the poor Chief, and Kelvin being Kelvin, thought of making a temporary solution in order to get everyone off the Chief’s back.

Kelvin was one of the few sinners who weren’t affected by the heat wave. Due to her particularly unique ability gained from becoming a sinner, Kelvin was immune to the hot air and fatigue, and was busy whipping up different flavored popsicles in the kitchen from morning to night.

The chefs of the Bureau would help her, of course. But most of the time Kelvin worked alone. She wanted to perfect her popsicle recipes to appease to the crowd’s tastes, so she was oftentimes up late at night preparing several batches of flavorful frozen treats.

You had stumbled upon her cooking up a storm in the kitchen one night when you were out to get a glass of water. Upon seeing the meek sinner running around and mixing different fruit blends and flavors, you peeked your head in with curiosity and wondered what she was doing.

“Kelvin?”

You watched as she squeaked and nearly dropped the tray of unfrozen popsicles on the floor. Quick to rush over to her, you helped steady her posture and felt guilty for startling her. “Ah, sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.”

“N-No no, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect any visitors today at this hour,” Kelvin nervously chuckled and set the tray of unfrozen popsicle juice on the counter. “Did you need something from the kitchen? I’ll try my best to provide.”

“Well, I just came down to get a glass of water, but I didn’t expect you to be working so late still.” You tilted your head at her and offered a hand. “Do you need help? You've been working so hard lately caring for the entire Bureau throughout the heat wave. I don’t want you to be tired.”

Kelvin’s cheeks flushed a bit at your concern, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Ah, well, if you’re up to the task, I’d be happy to have some help in filling the rest of these popsicle molds. These are all for tomorrow’s batch, and I think it’ll be faster if we had two people working at the same time.”

She smiles sheepishly at you. “Is…Is that okay?”

“Of course, here, give me a pitcher.” And so you began helping Kelvin out in the kitchen. The two of you working diligently to finish tomorrow’s popsicles as quickly as possible. What was about half an hour of work had been halved to about fifteen minutes with you and Kelvin working together, and soon the last batch of the evening was slid into the freezer ready to be frozen for tomorrow.

“Ah, we finished much quicker than I thought!” Kelvin exclaimed happily, already starting the cleanup process. “If you’d like, you can grab a popsicle of your choice that’s already been frozen. Think of it as like…a treat of sorts. A thank you for helping me.”

She smiles bashfully and fiddled with her fingers, quickly washing the dishes while you took a popsicle of your choosing.

“Mmmm. You've really outdone yourself this time, Kelvin. This flavor is really good.”

“Really? I’m glad you enjoy it—”

Kelvin grinned and turned around to face you, only to gasp and nearly drop the cup she was holding in her hand.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Ah, nothing nothing. I just thought I saw a bug on the wall.”

She flashed you a timid smile and turned back to face the sink, ears going pink as the sight of you pursing your lips over the popsicle and sucking on it ravenously, as it had Kelvin’s innocent mind wandering to dangerous territories. She didn’t expect herself to get so…aroused at the sight of you nonchalantly sucking on a popsicle to eat, yet the poor woman felt the inside of her small cock pulse with need the more she thought about it.

‘Ohhhh nooooo…’ Kelvin thought, trying to take her mind off her horniness as she continued scrubbing the dishes. She was lucky that she was turned away from you to hide her ever-growing blush and flustered-ness, but a part of her wanted to let her imagination run loose with the image of you bobbing your head up and down the sugary confection.

Kelvin’s cock was not the biggest in comparison to the other sinners, in fact she was probably one of the smaller sinners on the spectrum when it came to measuring her dick size. However, she couldn’t help but think of how easy it would be for you to pop her entire length in your mouth, taking her from the tip to the base, as your mouth swallowed her whole and engulfed her in a sea of pleasure.

Kelvin stifled a whimper, feeling her tights strain against her ever-hardening erection as she rubbed her thighs together to provide some friction on her shaft. Poor Kelvin, she was so, so horny now. Picturing someone as hot and caring as you slowly edging her and teasing her as you traced circles around her cute cockhead, watching the tip grow redder and redder before spilling over with cute beads of seed and down her thighs…

Oh my, if you teased her delicately like that, Kelvin is unsure if she’d ever be able to stop herself. After all, whenever Kelvin orgasmed, she could barely contain herself as her ejaculations could last a very long time depending on how sensitive she was. (And most often than not, Kelvin was very sensitive when it came to a lover’s touch)

“Mmpf…hnnn…” Kelvin chewed her bottom lip and swallowed as she felt herself stiffen while scrubbing the dishes. She was definitely distracted with her thoughts, as she didn’t notice you creeping up behind her.

“You’ve been scrubbing the same cup for a while now.”

“Ah!”

Kelvin yelped and made the mistake of turning around, revealing the small, barely noticeable —but still noticeable in your eyes— dark stain that hovered just above where her tip would be. Your eyes immediately lowered and noticed the stain garnering the bluenette’s little chef outfit, and the smirk that stretched across your lips caused Kelvin to shiver with delight.

“Oh, distracted were we?” You chuckled, causing Kelvin to squeak and cover her crotch area with her hands, face going bright red with shame as embarrassment settled in. “Ah, don’t cover yourself. You look adorable! Were you busying yourself with thoughts of me?”

Kelvin couldn’t make eye contact with you, but stiffly nodded as a show of honesty.

“Awe, alright then. I’ve finished my popsicle while you were ‘distracted’ but I’m still hungry…”

Kelvin’s breath hitched as you got down on your knees, resting your cheek on her leg and smiling up at her. “Care to give me another popsicle, Kelvin? I came down for some water earlier, but it seems I’m parched for something else…”

Unable to overcome her lust, Kelvin gulped and just slid her tights down with ease.

#path to nowhere #ptn #serpent smut #serpent x reader #coquelic smut #coquelic x reader #cabernet smut #cabernet x reader #adela smut #adela x reader #kelvin smut #kelvin x reader #ptn women x reader #ptn women smut #ptn smut

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spenglernot · 6 months

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STORIES TELLING: THE BREATHTAKING EFFICIENCY OF WRITING IN OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

One of the things I most admire about Our Flag Means Death is the efficiency of the writing. So much happens so fast, but nothing is dissonant or feels like it comes out from left field. I think part of the reason it works so well is that the subtext does a lot of heavy lifting; setting the foundation for what comes next. There is always more than one thing being conveyed. It isn’t simply storytelling, it’s stories telling.

Case in point: Ed's stories about underwater beasties...

S1 E6, The Art of Fuckery - Ed telling the crew a story about the Kraken. S2 E5, The Curse of the Seafaring Life - Ed telling Stede a story about fishing.

S1 E6 Young Ed sees the kraken (himself). It’s foreboding, powerful and uncontrollable.

S2 E5 Ed clearly delineates between himself and the beast (rage, violence, protection). He is the man (an adult, above the water), conscious and in control. The beast is beneath the sea (subconscious).

S1 E6 Ed describes the kraken as hideous, rising out of the water (of its own volition) while young Ed stands nearby, powerless.

S2 E5 Ed describes pulling to bring the beast out of the water. This is a conscious act, over which he has control.

S1 E6 Ed describes the kraken attacking, before Ed even knew it had done so.

S2 E5 Ed describes triumphantly pulling the beast from the water.

S1 E6 Ed describes his warning about the kraken coming too late, and the kraken takes its victim. The kraken is in control.

S2 E5 Ed shows Stede the beast he subdued: a small fish.

Why is this so damn heartbreaking and funny and touching?

We have two stories that are highly entertaining and work within the context of the episodes to move the narrative forward. But they also say a whole lot about how Ed sees himself at each moment in time.

In season 1, the beast is safely underwater, but it can always rise, with overwhelming strength and power, to wreak havoc and keep Ed safe. It’s not something Ed is fully in control of, and it can (and later does) do tremendous damage.

In season 2, episode 5, the beast is safely underwater. Ed has to put effort into keeping the beast on the line and reeling it in, but he is in control of it.

And, while the small fish silhouetted triumphantly against the moonlight is beautifully sweet and funny, what made me crumple on the floor is what it says about how Ed is beginning to manage the kraken (himself) now.

The kraken is still there, under the water, and maybe Ed isn’t ready to control it in its full form, but he’s working on it. He wrangled a small sea (subconscious) beast and is celebrating his success in that.

And then Stede says this:

(Sob. You're such a good boyfriend right now, Stede!)

Yeah, Ed. That is really beautiful. Good on you, mate. Keep going.

This post was written before OFMD season 2 fully airs. No idea what’s going to happen in episodes 6, 7, and 8 (and I’ve generally fled social media to avoid spoilers). I’ll be back, looking at everyone’s fascinating posts after the finale airs.

#JFC the OFMD writers have game #OFMD parallels #OFMD subtext #OFMD meta #The kraken #The beast #Fishing #Edward Teach #Stede Bonnet #Our flag means death #OFMD S1 #OFMD S2 #OFMD S2 E1-5 spoilers

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tonguepiercedanyway75 · 29 days

Text

Sharing favorites // Matty Healy x reader

Summery: After your night shift you can finally spend the morning with your boyfriend

Warnings: fluff, smut

Masterlist

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You are waiting for the clock to strike 7. You‘ve been in the hospital for twelve hours. It’s time to go home, go to Matty‘s house and just drop into his arms. You’re tired and annoyed and you desperately need sleep. You’ve been doing rounds the whole night, doing Stiches and cleaning wounds. No operation. Nothing.

It’s like being at the beginning of your career all over again. Being an intern. Nevertheless it’s what you always wanted to do, but right now it’s finally time to leave this place. You get into your car after changing into sweatpants and a hoodie from Matty.

It’s a 20 minute drive which feels like a 20 hour drive when the tiredness is hitting you. Matty still didn’t send you a ‘good morning’ text which means he’s probably dead asleep. The pictures of Matty being cuddled up in bed gives you a warm feeling on the inside.

After what felt like an eternity you finally arrived at his house. You grab your purse, search for the house keys and enter while being the most quiet you’ve ever been, not wanting to wake him. You slip out of your shoes, hang up your coat and make your way to the bedroom. The blinds are shut in every room, not letting the slightest bit of sunshine in, those lighting conditions make the 7am morning feel like a 11pm night.

The bedroom is as dark as the rest of the house but you can still see Matty clearly. He’s laying on his stomach, his face hidden in his pillow while his dog Allen is right next to him. Your heart melts at the sight of your two favorite things.

You lift the blanket and get greeted with the warmth of Matty’s body heat. His arm finds your back as you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck. This is everything for you. Sleep is onto you but it seems as Matty is waking up. “Morning love,” he mumbles into your skin while giving you a kiss on your cheek.

You hum in response, too tired to answer him. “You need anythin’?” You shake your head and nuzzle into him even more.

“Missed you,” you get out before closing your eyes again. You feel completely at ease around him. Matty notices that you can’t keep your eyes open and your breath steadies. He chuckles at your attend to roll him on top of you. “Be my weighted blanked,” you whisper against him.

He does as you wish and Matty immediately feels your weight shift under him. You like cuddling like this. His head is tucked under your chin, arms needling their way behind your back to hold you close. “Sleep well love,” he whispers, the comfort and security of Matty being so close helps you drift off into a light rest. He gives your head a few more kisses, making sure you’re asleep before falling asleep as well.

It’s only 4 hours later when Matty awakes still on top of you. He looks at the clock next to his bed. 11:32. It’s always like this when you have Night Shift, only that sometimes you’re alone in bed. You can sleep way better and longer when you feel your boyfriends presence.

It was an adjustment for Matty at first because he usually gets up between 5 and 6 am. But since you’ve been together he loves nothing more then staying in bed with you.

He gets up, leaves the curtains shut and gets up to give his dog food, he also leaves the door to the garden open so Allen can knock himself out at the fresh air.

After he gets himself a glass of water he goes into your shared bedroom again. You’re laying on your side, hugging the blanket tight around your body. He smiles and picks up his laptop from the drawer and settles next to you.

You introduced him to this mind blowing series, Criminal minds. It’s the series you always watch and the perks of having this many seasons is, it doesn’t end. It feels like you’ll never reach the end.

You are currently on season 9, but since watching without the other is a no-go Matty skips to the start of the last episode you watched. 5 minutes in the series and you snuggle against him, laying your head on his chest. His heartbeat is steady. He looks down at you and removes your messy hair from your face, then he kisses your temple.

Another 5 minutes and you slowly open your eyes. You’re still tired but you know you have the day off and that thought eases you. You groan lightly and sit up. You cover your face in your hands and Mattys hand finds your back, rubbing up and down your lower back. “You sleep okay?” He asks and you let out a quiet yes. You slept good but a little too short.

“How did you sleep?” You ask and turn around to face the man whose curls hang in his face and whose eyes look as tired as yours. His stubbles are more visible, since he hasn’t shaved for a couple of days.

“Like a Baby,” he says and gives you a silly smile. Your favorite characters voice raises your attention to the screen. You slap his chest lightly, “what was that for?”

“Did you continue without me?” That would be just cruel but Matty turns the screen and it shows you a scene you recognize. “What do you think love? Would never do that.” He reaches for your hand and kisses every one of your knuckles.

After you come from the bathroom, he settles the laptop to the side and pulls you onto his lap. You feel his erection through his boxers, but it doesn’t stop him from lifting you higher up his body making you laugh. “Matty what are you doing.” You’re now sitting on his chest but he grips your hips tighter, you whine. “Lift your hips and sit on my face.”

You blush at the direct demand and who are you to say no to the man who looks so sweet right now. You hover over his face but feel a little nervous to crush him so you hesitate.

“Get down baby,” he says. “Okay.” And with a gulp, you allow your hips to lower, your knees slipping on the silky sheets which open your legs wider to give your boyfriend better access.

“Like that, good,” Matty cooes and patiently coaxes your body all the way down with encouraging hands until his mouth attaches itself to your clit, encouraging whimpers to leave your mouth.

“Jesus- Matty,” your hands grip onto his hair and you pull slightly, earning a growl from your boyfriend. “Not Jesus,‘s just me.”

Your hips start to grind down, meeting his tongue to chase your high. You let your eyes roll to the back of your head while Matthew never stops. He purrs, sucking your clit between his lips.

Making you come is one thing. Tasting you is another. Your back arches and your fingers pull on his hair. Matty grips your thighs tighter. “Matt- baby,” you moan. He is obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, your moans, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to make you feel so good.

Pleads leave your mouth, “Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid moan, rolling your head to the back while closing your eyes. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your thighs, to feel your relax more and more.

“Fucking obscene,” he mutters as he feels you let go around his tongue, “my favorite taste.” Matty licks you clean before pulling you down. You close your eyes and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue and lips. You keep your eyes closed, too tired to open them. The 4 hours of sleeping getting to you.

“You with me?” He asks and nudges you a little, you shake your head ‘no’ which makes him chuckle. He strokes your hair while holding you close, rubbing your back soothingly. “Have to clean you up baby, ‘be right back.”

He picks up a wet towel from the bathroom and cleans your lower body, you hiss at the contact with you clit and he apologizes. “So pretty,” he wipes your inner thighs and throws the towel into the laundry basket.

“I love you,” you say as he settles next to you and picks up the laptop again. He leans down to kiss you. God, you love kissing him. His lips are made for you. “I love you too,” he tells you.

You both watch the next episode of criminal minds in bed, cuddled up, sharing lots of kisses during. At some point you finally get up and begin the day, until you fall asleep at the exact same spot.

#matty healy #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy oneshot #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fic #matty healy x you

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autisticlancemcclain · 4 months

Text

Keith presses the heels of his palms to his eyes and exhales deeply. He lets all the air trickle out of his lungs until his chest feels concave, until spots dance behind his closed eyelids, until his lips start to go numb. Then he lets go and lets the air get sucked back into him like a vacuum.

“One more try,” he whispers to himself, conscious of Lance sleeping — finally — beside him. “One, and then we move on.”

He swipes the touchpad on his computer to wake it back up, dragging the blinking curser over the rarely-used blue ‘10’ under the Google logo. The page loads, and loads, and loads, and finally spits out the next few results.

Most of them he’s already seen before. Dozens of times. BARGAIN BALLET TICKET SUBSCRIPTION, reads one link, CLICK HERE FOR 20% OFF YOUR FIRST MONTH. Another reads, Rush Ticket Prices — Buy Now!

He’s been there. Clicked that. Priced it out. Looked at the worst possible, next-to-the-washrooms, garbage seats. Nothing. Not a single ticket within their limited budget — or even close to it.

Completely out of the realm of possibility even if they hadn’t agreed on a price limit for their Christmas gifts.

He keeps scrolling down a few pages that all advertise the same thing — a disgustingly costly subscription here, bargain-but-not-really tickets there, more scammy resell ads than one would believe possible. Even, notably, a still-active link from 1997 that Keith peruses for clicks and does not actually count towards his one-more-try limit. (It even tries to accept his Paypal, which is crazy and means that someone updated the site to accept modern payment for a show that is no longer running. Keith is so amused by the pure audacity that he has to fight the urge to buy one. Wild thing, ADHD.)

Just as he’s about to give up and buy his boyfriend yet another plant this year, a link catches his attention. It’s the very last result on page 13, with no description, no punctuation, hell, hardly even a sentence of text. Nutcracker ticket sales, it reads, for a website called ‘FeuillesBrillantAcademie.org’.

Keith shrugs. Might as well. Not like anything else has been promising.

He clicks the link and immediately wishes he hadn’t. The ugliest website he’s ever seen literally assaults his eyes — a bright blue and a neon purple, clashing in the worst possible way. It takes at least four solid seconds for his eyes to unblur enough to recognise the screen in front of him as having words rather than a solid wall of Bright And Bad. Even then, he has to squint, glasses practically touching his eyeballs.

Feuilles Brillant Academy is pleased to present the final performance of the hard-working dancers this season, is what he can finally make out. The show begins at 7 p.m. on December 23rd, tickets for $20 per person. In-person payment not accepted. Please pay via e-transfer using the link below. Call out administrative office if there are any difficulties.

Keith stares at the page for as long as his eyes can handle, then he looks up at the ceiling. (Where, he may add, he can still see the screen perfectly, because the damn thing has been burnt onto his retinae. He will never mock Matt for his web design degree again. Well, probably.)

This seems…too good to be true.

It’s outrageously cheap, for one. Keith has been looking for literal days and the cheapest he’s managed to find is $50 per person, for bad rush tickets. $20 is bonkers. For two, this is a perfect time, and nearby, as well. And there are still tickets left. Somehow.

Something is amiss.

Keith’s first thought is that it’s a prank page. But the page is buried so deeply — page thirteen of Google. The hidden archives, basically. If this is someone’s prank, it’s garbage. His second thought is that the link is a virus, which, while possible, is still kind of unlikely for the same reasons. Why on Earth would someone post something nefarious so obscurely? It doesn’t make sense. This might be one of those rare times when something isn’t too good to be true, it’s just good.

Then again. Keith just got his laptop back from the last time he fucked around and well and truly Found Out.

Time to get a second opinion.

Despite the disgustingly late hour, the phone picks up on the second ring.

“Hey, stinky,” says Pidge. Keith can hear the smile in her voice as clearly as the explosions and gunfire of Call of Duty in the background.

“Asshole.”

“Turd for brains.”

“Skidmark.”

“Rotting splatter of parking lot vomit at three in the afternoon in Arizona during high summer.”

“…Pidge, that’s disgusting.”

She snickers. “I win.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith freezes as Lance stirs next to him, curling his arm around Keith’s bent leg and muttering something in Spanish too fast for him to understand. Keith smiles, tucking a stray curl back under his fluffy frog-eye hairband, lingering over the scar on his temple from a skateboarding accident when they were fifteen. “I need your help.”

“Well, obviously. You’re calling me at three thirty four in the morning. Usually you’re in bed by nine because secretly you look up to Adam and emulate his habits.”

Keith flushes. “I don’t remember ordering a psych analysis, fucker.”

“Consider it a bonus! Tell Auntie Pidge about your troubles.” He can practically see the face she makes immediately after, and snorts. “Ignore that. My mouth is not attached to my brain. Carry on.”

“I need you to check out a link,” Keith says, choosing to be merciful. “It’s pretty buried and obscure, but honestly I think it’s fine —”

“Yeah, last time you thought a link was fine you fucked your shit up so bad I had to download another virus to cancel it out. I’ve never had to do that before. You fucked your laptop up so bad I’d actually never seen that kind of damage before, Kogane. And I do this for a living.”

Keith pouts. “No, you commit cyber crimes for a living.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m an angel and have never gotten so much as a speeding ticket. I am a law abiding citizen. Send over the link.”

Switching his phone to rest between his ear and shoulder, Keith does. “I need to know if the link does what it says it does.”

Pidge hums. He can hear the ding of her laptop as his e-mail goes through, and then the sounds of her clicking as she inspects the website, running it through her various programs that Keith cannot fathom for the life of him.

“What did you say you were looking for, again?”

Keith closes his eyes and tips his head back, letting it thunk gently on the thin wall under the big window, in the corner of the apartment where they’ve shoved their bed. He lets his eyes go blurry, lets the stars they stuck on the ceiling before they did anything else turn into bright green dots. They’re real constellations. The two of them spent hours on them; Lance on Keith’s shoulders, tripping and shouting and laughing.

“I need tickets,” Keith says quietly. He turns his gaze slowly to Lance, who is sleeping soundly again, who has bags under his eyes, whose hands twitch every few seconds, who frowns deeply. “And we can’t — these are the only ones I could find. That I can even pretend to afford. I need it to be —” He swallows. “I need you to tell me they’re real.”

Pidge is quiet for a moment. The only sound is her breathing, her nail tapping slowly on the edge of her screen.

“The link is exactly what it says it is.”

Keith sits up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, man.”

Keith bites back a cheer so he doesn’t wake Lance up. Hell yeah! This is perfect! Exactly what they needed! Just — a little bit of luck. A little bit.

“Thank you, Pidge,” he gushes, hurrying to punch in his information. “Seriously.”

Pidge huffs fondly. “Okay, dweebus. Gross. Go be all affectionate somewhere else.” She pauses. “Take a picture when you tell him.”

Keith smiles. “I will.”

———

It takes every inch of Keith’s willpower to keep his mouth shut for a whole three weeks.

“I Know you are hiding something, Kogane,” Lance says while walking home from classes, while curling up into him as they watch TV, while cooking, while showering. “I see it in your face.”

“It’s nearly Christmas, you dweebus,” Keith says every time, and every time he softens it with an exaggerated kiss to Lance’s cheek, one to make him laugh despite himself and shove Keith’s face away. “Of course I’m hiding something.”

But it’s eating at them both. Lance’s blatant curiously makes it that much harder for Keith to keep things hidden, to stash the tickets between the pages of his corniest romance novel that Lance won’t touch with a ten foot pole. To wait, and wait, and wait, as they set up the three-foot high discounted Christmas tree and Lance changes their sheets to the flannel ones his mother gave them.

But the days pass. Finals come and go and so does the time. And finally, finally, it comes time to crawl onto the creaky mattress, knees on either side of Lance, nose kisses down his neck, and murmur, “We’ve got plans today.”

Lance groans. “No we do not.”

Keith smiles widely. He knows Lance can feel it, because he scowls harder, trying to hide his own fondness even as he melts into Keith’s affections.

“Yes, we do. I know. I planned them.”

“Well, then, un-plan them,” Lance grouches. He turns over so he’s facing Keith, now, trying hard to glare up at him, but late afternoon sunlight bleeds into his dark brown eyes and makes them shine golden, and they are as warm and bright as the rest of him, and his hands slide up Keith’s chest, over his shoulders, brushing through his hair, to rest on his cheeks. “Come nap with me.”

Keith turns his head to press a kiss to Lance’s palm, keeping his mouth there. Lance rolls his eyes, and can no longer hide his smile. “Later. I made plans. Dress up, I’m gonna pick us up some food for the way. We’ll leave in forty minutes.”

“Ugh.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, baby. I can see you eyeing the closet.”

“Shut up and get me a burrito.” He soothes the bite of his words by pulling Keith’s face closer to his, pressing their lips together softly. “Please.”

“Whatever you want.”

God, he’s whipped, and Lance knows it, because he grins, pleased, and pulls Keith even closer, kisses him stronger. It takes Keith a good five minutes to muster up the willpower to pull away, and Lance knows it, smirking.

He finally manages to yank himself away, stumbling backwards towards the kitchenette of their studio. Lance pouts at him.

“Menace,” Keith says sternly, deliberately turning away as he pulls on his boots and coat. He ignores his boyfriend’s grumbling and finally makes it out the door, hustling to their favourite bodega and hoping it isn’t too crowded.

Thirty-seven minutes later, burritos secured, Keith is shoving his frozen fingers around the door handle to jimmy it open. The bodega was indeed crowded and they are indeed late. The show starts in an hour. From what Keith remembers from Lance’s recitals — and he has been to many — people who are late are people who miss the show. The ballet does not fuck around with tardiness and disruptions; if you’re late, that’s tough shit for you. Plan better.

“You’re going to eat shit,” Lance says, amused, the fourth time Keith power walks right over black ice and nearly actually dies. “Slow down, babe.”

Keith does not.

“Can’t,” he huffs, keeping a half-eye on the pavement. A tourist walks into him, shoving him into Lance, who takes the opportunity to slide his hand into Keith’s back pocket and wink at him when his cheeks colour.

“Why can’t we slow down? Where are we going?”

“It’s like you don’t know what surprise means.”

“I do know. I also know that if I annoy anyone long enough they’ll snap so I’ll shut up.”

“Nah. I like it when you talk.”

He’d meant it as somewhat of a comeback, as a jab back to Lance’s teasing. But suddenly Lance stops, spine going rigid, something like shock flirting across his face for half a millisecond before he blinks it away and moves again. It happens so fast that Keith would almost be convinced he’d imagined it, except Lance’s cheeks are crimson.

Keith smiles. “Lance.”

“Shut up.”

“Babydoll.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m barely sayin’ anything, baby.”

“You are so fuckin — gay, you know that? God. Who fuckin — who says shit like that? Who on this Earth?”

Keith laughs, bending down to kiss right below Lance’s ear, to feel his flushed skin warm to frozen tip of his nose.

“You are so easily flattered.”

“Easily flatter this dick. How about that. Fuckin. Jerk.”

He lets Lance grouch at him, pleased and embarrassed about it, as he pulls them along the overcrowded streets. He checks his watch. Fifteen minutes ‘til the show starts, thirteen minutes ‘til they get there. Hopefully.

“Are we almost there? It’s cold and these shoes are pinchy.”

“I told you to wear comfortable shoes!”

“You told me to dress up! I can do one of those things, Akira!”

At the seven minute mark Keith starts running. Lance, surprisingly, doesn’t complain — a grin pulls at his sharp features, actually, and he wraps their hands together and runs faster, despite not knowing where they’re going. Every time they bump into someone in a suit he laughs. He laughs harder when they curse at him. Keith has to fight to keep his head in the game, to keep running, to not stop where he’s standing and watch Lance laugh for hours and hours and hours. It’s been too long.

He nearly pulls Lance’s arm out of his socket when he stops then abruptly, shouting “Here! Here! We’re here!” and pulling him inside a well-kept brownstone.

“Where’s…here?” Lance wonders, taking in the well-salted walkway and pretty red-and-green decorations all over the aged brick.

Keith doesn’t answer. “Close your eyes.”

Lance narrows his eyes. Keith makes his expression as wide and pleading as possible, and in seconds Lance caves, much to Keith’s satisfaction.

“You’re a pain in my neck.”

Keith kisses him quickly and chastely. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let me walk into anything.”

Satisfied that Lance won’t peek, Keith shuffles them over to the box office, holding out their tickets. The stewardess smiles at him, scanning them, eyes twinkling at Keith wordless plea for her to keep the secret, and gestures towards a grand set of doors.

“Up the stairs, to your left, seat and row on your ticket,” she murmurs. “Enjoy the show.”

Keith nods his thanks and rushes them off.

“This sounds very fancy,” Lance observes as their shoes click on the — literally marble, how the hell were these tickets $20 — floors. “Dangerously so.”

Keith shrugs. “Perhaps.”

“…Not to be. A bummer. But please tell me you remembered our budget, Keith.”

“I did, Lance. I swear.”

Lance relaxes into him, and Keith realises for the first time how tense he was. He winces to himself. He probably could have made things a tad less stressful and still kept the surprise. He’ll remember that for next year.

“Okay, good. I trust you.”

They barely make it to their seats in time. Keith’s butt barely makes contact with the cushioned chair before the lights dim and the orchestra starts tuning, the rest of the audience lapsing into almost immediate silence.

Lance inhales sharply. “Keith…?”

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Lance does, and they’re wide, and his mouth drops open, slightly, and for a moment he just stares, frozen, at the stage and the lights and the set, the familiar set, as the dim light casts shadows onto his face. The orchestra’s tuning note reaches its satisfying peak, harmonizing as one sound, and Keith’s full attention is on the lines of Lance’s face, the set of his jaw, the curves of his cheekbones.

“Merry Christmas,” he says quietly.

Before he can say anything else, before Lance can say anything else, the familiar sound of pointe shoes tapping delicately across the stage steals Keith’s attention. He turns his eyes to the stage, watching the dancers strut on the stage, and — stops.

He leans forward, squinting.

What?

Keith is…very familiar with the Nutcracker. He’s grown up alongside Lance’s family since he was eight years old. He’s been to more recitals than he can count. He’s been dragged to more performances than he can ever remember. Lance has lived and breathed and loved ballet his whole damn life, for the entire time Keith has known him, and that love bled well outside of the studio, has lasted even after he aged out of the program last year. Keith knows how the Nutcracker begins, and nothing about the program said this one was supposed to be any different.

Half of the dancers walking onstage are significantly shorter than they should be.

Now he knows damn well that there are kids in the Nutcracker. The main character is a kid. That’s the whole deal.

But there is not one adult on that stage right now. Hell, not even a teenager.

Keith looks down at the ticket — Feuilles Brillant Academy. He looks back at the stage. He looks at the other audience members — lots and lots of people with camcorders. And other small children.

Keith sinks into his chair, head in his hands.

His dumb ass bough a ticket to a children’s ballet recital.

Lord above.

“Lance, I am so sorry,” he whispers, “I was so caught up in the ticket being in budget I didn’t bother actually, like, looking deeper into things, this is totally — Lance?”

Keith leans forward in alarm, hands immediately falling on Lance’s knee, on his back. His shoulders shake and his hands are pressed to his eyes.

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry,” Keith says desperately, embarrassment replaced with panic. Everything feels like it’s crashing down around him, as dramatic as that is. He’d been so excited for this. Now it’s a whole mess. “I didn’t mean to — fuck things up, shit, we can leave.”

Lance shakes his head. Blindly, he reaches over the grasps Keith’s hand, holding tightly. His own hand is damp from his tears.

“No, no, it’s — perfect,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “I —”

His chin trembles, and more tears spill over his cheeks. As the music swells along to the climax of the first dance, Lance lifts the armrest separating their seats, half crawling over Keith until his head is tucked in the crook of Keith’s neck, arms folded between their chests, hands clutching at the fabric of his sweater. His voice is wet with tears and soaked in an emotion Keith can’t quite name, an almost — relief.

“It’s been so long. I didn’t want to — I thought I wouldn’t be able to do this again. I wouldn’t let myself think about it.”

Keith lets a huge, relieved exhale, sagging forward. He wraps himself more comfortably around Lance’s frame, squeezing him back, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple.

Growing up has been…hard. For the both of them.

They’d been told by everyone who knew them that they were being stupid and reckless. Keith has been promised that they won’t last more than two years by almost every grownup he’s ever known. Even his own brother had sighed his trepidation when Keith told him, stubborn and bold-faced, that he was moving in with Lance, that they were going to start their lives together the second they pulled off their caps and gowns, that they were ready for the next step. That they were eighteen and ready to face the world.

“Sacrifices,” Shiro had warned, “are going to be half your life now. It’s not that I think you can’t, Keith. I just. There’s a reason people don’t move in with their highschool sweetheart they summer after they graduate. Katy Perry wrote a whole song about it. It’s a banger.”

Keith hates it when his brother is right, and this time he was right about so many things in consecutive order. Living on your own is hard. Learning to live with someone else is harder. Doing it in a city far away from home, while balancing school and work and rent and groceries, is the hardest.

“I miss dance,” Lance croaks, and Keith closes his eyes and breathes deeply and holds Lance tighter.

He knows Lance misses dance. He knows that he hasn’t so much as listened to a ballet since they moved to New York, unless it’s in the dead of night, and he thinks Keith is asleep, and he puts in his headphones and moves their furniture as silently as he can to the edges of their tiny ass studio apartment and laces up his falling-to-pieces pointe shoes and dances like the very act of it is tearing him apart, and cries the whole time. And then stashes his shoes in the bottom of his gym bag and crawls back into bed and pretends again in the morning that he left his pointes back in Arizona. And Keith looks away and lets him because school is already twenty thousand a year and in no shape or form can they afford that and money to rent a studio.

But Keith can give him this. For a little bit, maybe, even if it’s little kids with handmade costumes pirouetting across a stage.

“I know, bluebell.”

Lance exhales, shaky, breath ghosting across Keith’s collarbones, and finally turns back towards the stage, keeping tucked under Keith’s chin. The kids dancing as the Snow Queen’s ladies-in-waiting are — three years old, maybe. At most four. They keep twirling right into each other like clumsy little bumblebees. It’s maybe the cutest thing Keith has ever seen in his entire life, and what’s better is the tiny smile that graces Lance’s face, despite the tears, growing bigger every time one of them wobbles back up to their feet and prances on, oblivious.

They watch the rest of the play in silence, Lance hands entwining with his sometime around the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy and holding fast. They stand and clap as loudly as the gathered parents, louder even, at curtain call, as each kid jumps and twirls across the stage to thrown roses and cheering. It’s adorable.

They’re among the first to walk out, because the majority of the crowd surges towards backstage to collect their kid, so the walk is blessedly unrushed. They take their time, observing the pictures of grinning ballerinas that line the walls and numerous awards on endless shelves. Keith is filled with a deep and strong longing, a strange feeling of coming home — years of waiting on plastic chairs for Lance to finish solo practice when they were thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Of taking his boots off at the door and quietly sneaking in the back of the studio, ducking away from other dancers’ boring stares, to watch Lance shine under the studio lights, reflected a thousand times by mirrored walls. Of the smell of lemon cleaner and polished hardwood floors and satin.

He notices a poster on the wall, among dozens of drawings and pictures of intricate sets, and freezes.

“Lance,” he says, tilting his head, “look.”

At the end of a hallway, right next to a door, is a hand-painted banner, reading: WE’LL MISS YOU, MISS RAULA! HAPPY RETIREMENT!

He squeezes Lance’s hand. “I bet they’re looking for a replacement.”

Lance stares at the poster for a long time. “You think?”

“I think it wouldn’t hurt to shoot them an e-mail.”

Smiling, Lance stops them in the hallway, puts his hands on Keith’s shoulders, stands on his tiptoes, and kisses him, long and sweet and loving.

“I’m already in a pretty tight spot now,” he murmurs, still standing so close to Keith and smelling so sweet that he has trouble focusing on his words, “‘cause this is already kind of the best Christmas gift ever. If that ends up being true I’m never topping you again.”

Keith laughs, suddenly, not expecting the turn, and Lance grins, pulling Keith down to him and kissing him again. It’s less of a kiss and more of a press of smiles, a clack of teeth, a shared laugh.

“I love you, Lance. Merry Christmas. I will be the Gift Giving King forever.”

“Shut up, goober.” He lifts Keith’s arm, tucking himself under it as they walk back out into the snowy December night. “I love you too.”

———

based on this post (third slide)

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wardenparker · 14 days

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 10

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: 12.3k 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, dom/sub dynamics* In-laws (nice ones though!), passing mention of federal agents possessing guns, family dynamics, that one family member that married someone awful, the mystery of Agent Bailey begins to unravel, discussion of life in the public eye, planning for the future, discussion of collaring. Summary: After a rather dramatic birthday, heading to Texas to meet Marcus's family seems like a walk in the park. Notes: I am 100% certain that I have missed errors this week, loves. But alas, ya girl is back to working five days a week and she is SO tired. ✌ Please enjoy the chaos that is the Pike extended family!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

The flight from Washington DC to Dallas is just over three hours long and you had agreed that it would be better to leave early in the morning on Saturday to arrive at his family's compound before lunchtime. The last two weeks have been a dream as you and Marcus spend basically all of your extra time together, sharing dinners after work and alternating beds for overnight stays. He's even come to his first Friday Night Dinner with your family, which makes it all the more appropriate that you're now flying with him to meet his.

Airline points used, Marcus was well aware that on a commercial flight, Agent Bailey would be much more comfortable with First Class and boarding the plane last. Allowing for the rest of the plane to embark so they were not filing past her and you. Now that the flight is closed and you are settled into your seat, he looks over at you with a smile. "Ready for chaos?" He asks playfully, picking up your hand. "My family is....energetic."

“I’m excited,” you assure him. You’re also nervous, but that’s natural. His big family is having their annual springtime get together for the start of baseball season and — according to Marcus — this is the biggest Pike family get together of the year. It’s a week of pickup games with his cousins, big family meals, revisiting old favorite haunts, and catching up on life. It used to be a way to help distract Marcus and his Mom as his Dad started out the new season every year and started traveling, but now it’s just their favorite reason to get together.

“Don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t feel like.” Marcus insists. “Plenty of times half the cousins or wives and husbands end up in the stands watching and shit talking.”

“Baby if you think I’m not playing at least one game, you’re nuts.” Marcus has been so sweet about reassuring you and making sure you know nothing is expected of you on this trip, but frankly it just sounds like fun. Like the kind of happy chaos that is a complete break from your normal life.

He flashes you a grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He admits shamelessly. “After the games, we grill out or eat whatever we threw on the smoker that morning.” He shrugs. “It’s a party the entire time.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” You have been, and you are, and seeing him get excited would make the whole thing worth it even if you weren’t.

“Everyone is excited to meet you.” He promises. “Oh and mom asked if you had any allergies? Food or otherwise?” He shoots you a sheepish grin. “Forgot to ask.”

“Nothing at all. I’ll eat anything you put in front of me and sniff whatever weird Texas plants you guys have got.” A teasing grin counters his embarrassed one. “My brother and I did a campaign stop in Texas; I don’t think there was anything too sniffly in Austin. But I know the state is big.”

“Huge.” He snorts, smirking slightly. “You know what they say. ‘Everything’s bigger in Texas’.” He jokes.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk that forms on your face is immediate and you lean over to nudge his shoulder. "Is that how you grew up so big?"

“Not that big.” He chuckles. “My cousins – the males – are bigger.”

Snorting slightly, you can't help but laugh as you nudge Marcus again. "That sounds painful."

“Shit.” Marcus chokes and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

"Well good," you're still laughing, juvenile sense of humor on full display even if you're quiet. "Otherwise I'd feel bad for their spouses."

He snorts and leans into press his lips to yours. “I’m the biggest.” He boasts, completely lying and he winks to acknowledge that. Not like him and his cousins have compared…since before puberty.

"Naughty." It's chastising, but you giggle as you steal another kiss as you both settle back in your seats for a short but comfortable flight.

Marcus hums as the flight attendant comes by. “Do you want a mimosa?” He asks softly. “Start our vacation off right?”

"Why not? Let's have a fancy flight." First class is already a bit of an extravagance, and you smile at the flight attendant gratefully. They are well aware of who is on board – Agent Bailey had background checks run on the flight crew as a precaution – and discreetly point out your agent to the gentleman. "And a cup of coffee for the woman in the suit right over there? She'll say she doesn't want anything but I know she'd love a cup right about now."

“Yes madam.” He nods and smiles back at you, finding it refreshing that you aren’t over demanding like some political figures. One asshole really set his teeth on edge last month.

"Thank you so much." The last thing you want to do is make a fuss for the flight crew, and you sit back with Marcus's hand in yours. As nervous as you might be, this is going to be a good week.

“Anywhere you want to see in particular?” Marcus asks, stretching his legs in the extra space the first row gives you. “We don’t have to rent a car. Although I know Agent Bailey will want one of the Secret Service vehicles to follow.

"I want to see whatever you want to show me. Any place you used to hang out when you were growing up, or favorite local places, or even places you've never been that you've always wanted to go." It's his hometown, after all, even if he wasn't born there. Texas is where he became the Marcus that you know and love.

“There’s a band that’s playing Friday night.” Marcus tells you. “At the bar where I used to play.” He chuckles. “It’s my old bandmates.”

"One hundred percent." Your agreement is absolutely instant and there is a giant smile on your face. "No contest. It will be the perfect way to spend our last night in Dallas. Well...last night for now. I know we'll come back plenty of times."

“Awesome.” His grin is wide, happy that you would want to listen to some music and hang out. Potentially meeting old friends. “Then that’s what we’ll do. You’ll like the place.”

"I'll love it." Just like everything else this week, you're looking forward to it because it's something that you'll share with him. It's the early memories of your relationship, as you share the things with each other that made you who you are.

The family compound is exactly that. A compound. Built during the first contract with the Yankees, Pike’s Place as it was fondly referred to, had started out as a way for Marcus’s dad to build the retirement home of his parents’ dreams and ended up being the multi-generational property it is today.

There are more than a half dozen buildings in the property, a large pool and a garden, and even their own personal baseball diamond. It’s like having a resort built specifically for his family. Stuck smack in the middle between a ranch to the south and another large family property to the north, no one would even have any idea that neighbors existed around here if they weren’t told about it.

The main house is a beautiful American Craftsman-style building with a deep front porch and a swing out front, painted bold blue and white against the yellow Texas sun. Matthew and Donna Pike’s house is well-appointed but far bigger than it looks on the outside, and all around it is a stunning garden that they keep together as a shared hobby. The backyard sprawls on endlessly, but for right now you can see more cars than people. It looks like everyone is congregating with Uncle Matt and Aunt Donna.

Marcus’s smile gets visibly wider the closer you get and when the car stops, he’s almost vibrating with joy. He’s not nervous at all, knowing that his entire family will adore you. “Are you ready?” He asks again, not even waiting to the reply before he is shooting out of the car to open the door for you.

“You didn’t tell me you grew up in the cutest place on Earth,” you tease happily, practically giggling at how picturesque it is as you get out of the rental car.

“It’s home.” He looks around the property proudly. “Even when we were living somewhere else because of dad’s job, this was always home.”

“It’s beautiful.” You squeeze into his side and grin back at Agent Bailey as she gets out of the second rental car. “I hope you get to relax a little while we’re down here, too. It’s got to be a hell of a nice change of pace from looking at the inn every day.”

Agent Bailey notes the fence that seems to stretch around the property with approval. “We might be more secure here.”

“Glad to hear it.” Anything that makes her more comfortable is more than okay with you. With as hard as she works, she deserves to be able relax whenever she can.

“Dad installed a fence when he had some fans come up to the house when he was on an away trip.” Marcus explains. They had done one of those ‘where the star athletes live’ things in the Sports Illustrated magazine and someone figured out where it was.” He shakes his head. “Dad was furious, and the compound got an upgrade.”

“Sounds like a solid response to me,” the Secret Service agent agrees as she looks around the property.

“Although, he does open the compound up for youth programs. Training, spending the day with baseball players.” Marcus smiles proudly.

“I love how proud of him you are.” You slip your hand into Marcus’s again and give him a beaming smile. “Time for the chaos, baby. Let’s do it.”

Marcus laughs as the two of you hear the playful shouts from the backyard. The little welcoming barbecue that your father had insisted on was already in full swing. He can’t wait to see how you take all of his cousins and nieces and nephews wearing name tags.

It only takes about a second before someone notices you, letting out a boisterous shout across the yard and garden. “Well, looky what the cat dragged in!”

“Charlie.” Marcus leans in to tell you as every head turns your way. “First cousin from my mom’s side. Can’t believe he’s the first one.”

“Is Charlie not usually this friendly?” You ask under your breath, smiling and waving as more and more heads turn your way.

“Just…unobservant.” Marcus hums, smiling wider when his mother drops her platter of finger foods on a table and rushes forward. “You made it!”

Dr. Donna Pike is a tall woman with a wide smile and honey brown eyes, but right now her most noticeable feature is her long arms which reach out to fold out her only son like a protective mama bird. "Flight was okay?" She asks, smiling at Marcus's nod before she shifts over to hug you in turn.

When she had been told that Marcus had found his soulmate, she had been thrilled. Not because he had to be with his soulmate, she wasn’t narrow minded like that, but because he’s always had so much love to give. She can only hope that you will do well receiving it and return a fraction of it back to him. The others hadn’t seen how pure his heart is. She says your name and squeezes you tight. “How are you? It’s such a delight to meet you.”

"Thank you for having me." Her hands are on your shoulder and it's instantly obvious where Marcus's beaming smile comes from. "I've heard so many wonderful things from Marcus about his family, I'm really excited to meet everyone."

“Well if anyone is too much, or we all are, you just tell us to go away.” She snorts, shooting you a grin. “We are a bit much as a collective.”

"I promise my threshold for much is very high." It has to be, with the kind of people that are always around political figures, but this week is not about you. You do smile again, though, and urge Agent Bailey to come closer than her usual three steps away. "And thank you for understanding that things are not very conventional for me right now. This is Agent Bailey. She's my duty agent and an absolutely superb human."

Donna smiles at the agent, although she doesn’t attempt to hug her. Aware that it might be deemed as threatening. “She is also extremely welcomed.” She nods and offers her hand. “I hope you can relax and have some fun as well, Agent Bailey. We have a comfortable room set up for you at the top of the stairs, just down the hall from them.”

"Thank you, Dr. Pike." Agent Bailey accepts the handshake gratefully. Some people perceive her presence as threatening and that just isn't the case. Especially not here.

“Please, call me Donna.” She insists. “Now, we’ve told the children they are not to ask about your gun, but I do hope that you will change out of your suit into more weather appropriate clothes?” She asks. “Texas is too hot for bespoke all day.”

Agent Bailey actually laughs at that, and you smile when she nods. "I'll be dressed down while I'm here, don't worry about that. Being conspicuous doesn't do much good in protection most of the time."

“Good.” Marcus’s mother smiles. “I’ve also taken the liberty of moving Marcus’s gun safe into your room. For when you are needing to secure it.” She frowns and looks towards Marcus. “Did you bring your own, sweetheart? I didn’t think to ask.”

"Very kind of you, ma'am, but not necessary." Agent Bailey assures her. "I have a portal safe in my luggage. Agent Pike also has his firearm so we'll both be secure and safe that way."

“Told you.” Matthew Pike snakes his arm around his wife and kisses her cheek. “Always overthinking. But I love it.”

"Precautions are good, sweetheart," Donna reminds him, but she smiles.

Marcus and his father could be twins, except for the older man has more pronounced wrinkles from a career spent in the sun. “So this is the gorgeous creature the universe paired you with?” He unwinds his arm from around his own soulmate to pull his son into a bear hug. “Aren’t you a lucky man?”

"I swore I was only going to do this once while we were here." Standing beside Marcus and practically vibrating, you know you probably look silly but you don't care. "Mr. Pike, I am a huge fan and I promise there will be no more fangirling from this point on, but I just wanted to say that once."

There’s a grin that matches his son’s, currently on both of the Pike men’s faces. “Marcus….she has taste.” He teases, winking at you and pulling you in for a hug. “You can fangirl all you like, sweetheart.”

“I’m just very excited to be here,” you admit, laughing as you hug your soulmate’s father in turn. “Marcus…he’s absolutely amazing. I hope you’re as proud of him as he is of both of you.”

“More-so.” Matthew promises, already liking you. “Although, let’s get you settled and a first drink in your hand before we introduce you to everyone else, hm?”

You and Marcus follow his parents through the house and Agent Bailey notes the features of the house with interest but doesn’t interfere. So far, everything is straight forward. She just hopes it stays that way. For your sake.

The tour of the house is easy. A large, open concept main living area is perfect for entertaining, and lines of sight. “Our bedroom is downstairs.” Donna explains. “So you kids will have the top floor to yourselves. Everyone else is staying in the bunkhouse this trip.”

The bunkhouse, as it has been explained to you, is the largest building on the compound which basically amounts to a Pike family motel. Plenty of parking and plenty of rooms to stay in makes it the place that is customarily occupied by Marcus's enormous brood of cousins. "And I'm sure Marcus told you," Matthew glances back at you as the five of you walk together. "But the basement is a game room. Foosball table, game systems, all that kind of thing."

“I was going to show her.” Marcus admits with a shrug. “But she’s bowled in the White House, I doubt our game room would impress her.”

"You are seriously underestimating my love of foosball," you assure Marcus. "I'm terrible at it, but I love it."

“Don’t worry.” Matthew chuckles. “My son excels at pool but cannot figure out a foosball table.”

"Then we can be terrible together," you decide, thankfully garnering a laugh from both Marcus and his parents.

“Which will be a lot of fun.” Marcus chuckles. “When bad weather rolls through, we enjoy the game room and there are people everywhere.” He warns. “One time, we had a checkers tournament, so all the little kids could be involved too.”

The group of you stop in the kitchen for large glasses of sweet tea, and Agent Bailey excuses herself to bring her things upstairs and change into some more civilian-oriented clothes. There are pictures of the family all around the house, but none as prevalent as the pictures of Marcus. His graduations, his triumphs, and some absolutely adorable childhood photos adorn the walls of the house, and you smile at every single one. At one time his wedding picture must have hung on these walls too, or other pictures of him and Lara, and for a moment your heart clenches with regret that he was ever hurt but swells with the knowledge that he’ll never be hurt like that again. The next wedding pictures on these walls will be of you with him, and those will never be coming down.

“Home sweet home.” Marcus hums, watching you take in the space that he had mostly grown up in.

“Ready kids?” Matthew Pike chuckles, opening the sliding kitchen doors to the backyard with great ceremony.

“Don’t worry.” Marcus quickly assures you. “Everyone has had their rabies shots. So they aren’t as feral as they seem.”

For all the teasing, the hugs from his cousins are immediate. They descend on you like a swarm of eager birds, flapping their wings and chattering away as they all introduce themselves and say how happy they are to see Marcus and to meet you.

Marcus smiles at every one of them. Greets them like long lost friends, which they are. They are the friends of his entire childhood and he's happy to introduce you.

A man wearing a name tag that marks him as Uncle Rob holds up two more name tags proudly — one emblazoned Marcus and the other Birdie. “Marcus told us you prefer your nickname,” his father explains with a grin.

“It’s perfect,” you assure them, taking the name tag with a bursting heart. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Uncle Rob is a treasure.” Marcus tells you as he is pulled into a hug and slaps his uncle’s back.

"Uncle Rob is his mother's younger brother," the man clarifies with a happy grin. "Four of the cousins are ours, but I won't quiz you on the family tree just yet."

"I appreciate that." Your laugh of acknowledgement comes easily. "But I've been studying, I promise."

Marcus laughs, knowing how worried you had been over this visit, and it seems as if you are blending in well. He reaches out and squeezes your hip affectionately. “She’s a quick study.”

"Probably mandatory." One of his cousins – her nametag says Selena – teases as she offers you a hug. "Can't imagine the way family debates go when your Mom is the President."

"They're....active." You admit with another laugh. The hug is readily accepted, too. Pikes are apparently very huggy people. "I'm just glad we don't have to come up with opening and closing arguments."

She laughs and nods. “No, but here you might be asked the ERA or RBI stats of anyone you are a ‘fan’ of.” She advises. “So beware.”

"I can absolutely handle stats." For some reason Selena's energy is a lot more calm and reassuring than some of the other cousins, and you feel a little more at ease with her at the moment. "Most of the time I've got those on lock even when nobody's asked."

“How do you take your hotdog?” She asks, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Get it right and we can be friends.”

"It's not gonna be what you want it to be," you laugh, though you do appreciate the way Selena measures her new acquaintances. "I'm from Philly, so pepper hash and spicy mustard."

Her frown is replaced by a smirk and she nods. “You didn’t say ketchup, so you’re good in my book.” She smirks, eyeing Marcus who is huffing and rolling his eyes. “I don’t claim her.” He snorts.

"Too bad," you tease back, looping your arm through his cousin's. "She's delightful and I'm adopting her immediately."

“She’s not housebroken.” He warns, ducking the playful swat she aims towards him.

"Neither is my brother, and we let him into the White House," you snort, laughing even harder when Selena snickers.

Matthew chuckles and he pats his son on the shoulder. “Too late now, son, Selena has charmed her.” He advises.

"I steal hearts," the woman beside you jokes, throwing you an exaggerated wink. "My parents named me after Selena Kyle. It's not my fault."

“Last year you said you were named after Selena Quintanilla-Pérez.” He reminds her with a grin, slapping away her hand again and tapping her chin fondly. “You were lying?” Of course she was, considering she was nine when Selena rose to fame.

"You should keep the Catwoman reference," you advise her with a grin. "Mysterious and nerdy. Very sexy choices."

“See?” Selena smugly grins at Marcus. “Your soulmate has taste.”

Marcus can’t help but grin at that. “So I keep hearing.”

“I have the very best taste.” You agree with that assessment wholeheartedly, leaning back over to Marcus to kiss his cheek.

That makes him laugh quietly and he leans in to hug Selena. “You do. Especially in soulmates.” He teases.

“Oh no.” Pretending to be grossed out, Selena rolls her eyes dramatically but is smiling fully at seeing her cousin happy. “Did you finally find someone as gross as you are when you’re in love?”

“Grosser.” Marcus hums, grinning at you lovingly. “My perfect match.”

“Stop hogging them!” A voice calls out from halfway down the yard, and yet another of Marcus’s smiling cousins can be seen lounging on a picnic table. “We all need to get our annual harassment in, ya know!”

“Oh god.” Marcus hangs his head, even as he laughs. He knows everything is in good fun and he will be harassing them right back.

Thank god for the nametags. You'd be utterly lost without them, even after the flashcards you made for yourself with permission from Marcus to scout his Facebook page for photos of his family. There are just too many of them. The conversations swirl and so do the introductions, but Marcus sticks with you. By the time everyone starts eating the conversation dies down a little and you find yourself at a table with Marcus, his parents, Selena, and her twin sister Harper. Plates of barbecue and cold salads come with fresh glasses of cold sweet tea or cans of soda, and the most relaxed atmosphere of chaos you've been in the middle of in a long time. In your book, this is vastly preferable to a State dinner.

“So what do you think?” Even Agent Bailey has a plate and a drink in her hand, talking to Rodger, one of his dad’s oldest friends. He always comes to these weeks. “She’s gonna relax some?”

"Seems like it." The sight of Agent Bailey socializing is like a miracle to you. A unicorn in real life if ever you saw one. "Any chance your Dad's friend is a beer guy? I found out last week that Agent Bailey brews her own as a hobby and I am endlessly fascinated by all the niche hobbies I keep finding out she has."

Marcus chuckles. “Rodger owns the brewery that supplies the Rangers with the Pike’s Pints.” He explains. “So he’s kind of a renaissance man when it comes to beer.”

"So she has a new best friend?" You laugh, leaning into his side as you eat. "That's fantastic. I hope she has some new ideas to be excited about by the time the week is out."

“My question is this…when does she have time?” He asks, shaking his head. “She’s always with you.”

"I don't think she sleeps." It's a question you've asked yourself plenty of times, but have yet to find an answer. "Apparently she has a dog and a husband and everything? A whole damn life. I'm so glad that doing the job she does hasn't kept her from it."

“Holy shit.” He snorts and looks back at the woman in question with more than slight admiration. “She’s a superhero.”

"She really is." There's no denying that whatsoever.

The meal progresses and his mother smiles at you. “So please, tell me about your inn.” She insists. “Marcus said that you have created a beautiful oasis.”

"It's my happy place." The question – and the description – make you beam. "And...sort of my first child, as well. I bought it from the previous owners a few years ago and my best friend runs the restaurant. It's a beautiful historical property in Alexandria, just outside of DC."

“It sounds like it’s your baby.” She smiles happily and nods. “He has had nothing but praise for it, and you, since his first phone call.”

"He's been wonderfully supportive. I couldn't ask for a more understanding or helpful partner." You do flash him a grin, though, and decide to rat him out to his mother just a tiny bit. "I do think the restaurant is at least half the reason he spends so much time there, though. It's amazing."

“He has always led with his stomach.” Donna snorts, shooting you a conspiratorial grin. “When he was a teen, he was always starving.” She intones dramatically.

"Isn't that how all teenage boys are made?" The laugh you share isn't at his expense, just shared amusement, and you pick up your sandwich again. "At least, my brother was always that way. I swear he ate six meals a day from ages twelve to twenty."

Marcus laughs and Donna rolls her eyes. “Marcus still sometimes eats six meals a day.” She snorts. “At least that’s the way it sounds when he calls. Always snacking.”

“That’s probably my fault these days,” you admit with a guilty grin. “I’m a snacker. Maybe that’s just another fun little quirk in the broad scheme of things.”

“I just have to run more.” Marcus chuckles, picking up a pickle spear and biting it in half. “So I can still beat everyone here stealing second.”

“We’ll see.” Selena narrows her eyes at him in challenge. “I’ve been training.”

“Oh you have, have you?” Marcus snorts and winks at his cousin. “Twenty bucks says I steal more bases than you.”

“Fine,” Selena shrugs, smirking as she leans back in her seat. “I’ll be out there stealing more hearts, anyway.”

“I’ve already got the heart I want.” Marcus informs her, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it dramatically.

“I love you, too.” Over the weeks, the promise has become stronger between the two of you and little daydreams about the future don’t seem so far off anymore — though you haven’t really planned anything beyond agreeing that you want to be together.

"See?" He smirks towards Selena with a fluttering of his lashes. "She loves me, so I am complete."

“You’re completely gross and I’m very happy for you,” Selena teases back. “You’ll have the picturesque wedding you always dreamed of, and a million kids, and make an east coast version of Pike Place.”

"Ohhhhh." He tilts his head curiously as he looks back at you. "Modern day Kennedy Compound?" He suggests. "Our version of Hyannis Port at the inn?"

“That’s a lot bigger than a little colonial cottage at the back of the grounds,” you remind him, but the idea makes your chest swell with absolute love. “But I think if we build at the back of the property we could do a bigger house and get away with it. People wouldn’t even be able to tell the two are connected.”

He smiles at the idea. "We will have to find out who owns the property adjoining yours." He hums. "Expand."

“So you’re already talking about a family, then?” His father, obviously enamored of the thought, smiles broadly. His son has always been a family man, even when that definition just meant his best friends were his cousins.

"We are planning out a lot of things." Marcus admits with a grin, unable to contain the happiness at the idea. "Not sure when that's going to happen, but we are on the same page."

“Maybe sometime before we’re too old and gray to travel all the way to DC?” Matthew jokes, although he’s only half joking.

You groan quietly and Marcus smirks as he looks at you expectantly. "Told you." He laughs. "You said your parents would be first, but I knew it was going to be mine."

“I’m still shocked my Dad didn’t bring it up at dinner last night,” you admit. You had been absolutely certain that your folks would use Friday night dinner as a chance to interview you about your intentions as a couple.

"I'm sure he wanted to." He laughs. "But we've classified that as Need To Know." He jokes.

“That may be the only way to survive with them.” Still, you can’t help but let the smile grow on your face. “By their standards, we’re taking positively forever.”

"I guess that means we should just run off to Vegas and get married." Marcus teases with a wink. "Really mess with their expectations."

“We would have four parents very upset with us,” you remind him. Every time you joke about getting married or have a little daydream it just sounds better and better, but you would never push him to elope. His family means to much to him, just like yours does to you.

"Yes they would." Donna points her fork at him playfully. "I don't care how you get married, I just want to be there."

“Yes ma’am.” That gets an instant agreement from you — not at all ready to set the precedence of going against your future mother-in-law about something like this.

"Good." She smiles in approval and smirks at her husband. "We will clear our schedules whenever they decide on a date."

"Well," you laugh, leaning into Marcus's side. "I guess you were right about not needing to worry over their approval."

“The fact that I love you is all my parents ever need to know.” He smiles and Matthew nods. “Marcus has a good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold. With you being his soulmate, you have to be the same.”

For dinner on your second night in Texas, Marcus promises to take care of everything and disappears with a grin on his face while his mother and Selena take you on a long walk around the large gardens of the compound. Anticipating a little girl talk and some bonding with his family, you had readily agreed.

“So how are you liking Texas, Birdie?” Donna asks curiously as the three of you stroll in the warm morning. You have been a dream to have visit and it’s obvious that you adore Marcus, so she has loved you being here. She just wants to make sure the feeling is mutual.

“It’s beautiful.” It’s not too hot yet, being the beginning of April, and walking around the compound is a nice way to settle in and work off the big breakfast everyone had this morning. “I’ve only been here once before and this is far less stressful.”

“I am sure the campaign trail was never relaxing.” She sympathizes softly. “Although, if you have to take up the trail again, we can offer you a respite from the questions and prying wherever we can.” With being her baby’s soulmate, she will be just as protective over you.

“I’m sure when re-election comes, I’ll be volunteering to come to Texas again just to be able to see my in-laws.” The thought is actually relaxing, to be able to take respite with such kind people, but the in-laws part excites you a bit.

“In-laws.” She beams when you say that. “Now I promise I won’t insist that you call me ‘mother’ or anything, but I hope that we can be friends.”

“Let’s start with Donna and Birdie and go from there,” you suggest, smiling just as broadly as she is. “I absolutely want us to be friends. Marcus loves you all so much and I know it means the world to him.”

“He is our only child, and we want him to be happy.” She promises. “But that doesn’t mean smothering him or not letting him live his life.” She laughs. “Matthew almost had a heart attack when he came home one break to find Marcus with shoulder length hair and an earring. But he never said a word.”

“Oh, please tell me you have pictures of that.” Marcus had told you about his long hair phase, but claimed no photos remained. You’ve been hoping that his parents have one tucked away somewhere.

Donna grins. “I have them all.” She promises. “Snuck them up to the attic before he could burn them.”

“He looks like the nerdiest member of Nirvana,” Selena snorts, giggling with the jovial malice only family can truly master.

“He was…too polite to really pull off the grunge look.” Donna admits, smiling at Selena’s almost evil outlook.

“He’s such a sweetheart.” There are hearts in your eyes when you say it and you don’t care to hide them one bit. “It’s—he’s better than I could have dreamed of for myself. Truly.”

“I have to confess….” Donna looks out over the gardens and sighs. “I have been so very worried about Marcus. He’s is such a loving man. He always has been, from the time he was a baby. But when he called me to say he had discovered his soulmate…” she looks back at you. “I was so very afraid that you wouldn’t understand his heart.”

“How do you mean?” She obvious cares for her son very deeply, and you do want to make sure that the relationship you have with her is honest. No misunderstandings if you can help it — which means asking for clarification. “Because he’s so giving and quick to jump in headfirst?”

“Yes….and no.” She admits. “Marcus is….well, he’s a caretaker. A fixer. You have a problem, he comes up with a solution. You feel tired and down, he will take some of your burden and try to cheer you up.” She sighs softly. “Oftentimes, so many women have been conditioned to be strong, independent, so they view that as misogyny or finding them helpless. It’s insulting to them and they resent him for it.”

“They don’t understand that offering care is his way of being supportive. It’s not that he doesn’t think they can do it themselves, it’s that he views being helpful as a romantic gesture as much as anything else.” You nod, understanding that entirely. “I think the hardest part for Marcus and me right now is that we’re both like that a lot of the time. Which means we’re constantly doing little fixes or giving little gifts or making little gestures. We’re still finding the balance.”

“That makes me feel better.” She admits with a smile. “You understand his need in doing it.”

“He wants me to know I don’t have to do it alone,” you acknowledge, offering her a smile as you walk. “And I want to make sure he knows the same.”

“You two truly are soulmates.” She chuckles. “And I have never been more happy to say those words.”

“Just as happy as I am to hear them, I promise you.” Stopping in your steady tracks, you touch her arm gently and offer her a slightly more serious look. “A lot of people interpreted the things I said on the campaign trail to mean that I’m against soulmates, but I’m absolutely not. I just don’t think anyone should be discriminated against for who they love. Anyone, and unfortunately a lot of people still believe only soulmates should be able to get married.”

“Those people…in my most professional opinion…” Donna snorts. “Are assholes.”

“Agreed.” You nod your head but Selena snorts at her aunts phrasing as the three of you start walking again.

“Do you have any specific plans while you are here?” Donna asks, curious if you had wanted to spend the entire time at the compound.

“I want to see whatever Marcus wants to show me.” It seems like an easy answer, but honestly you’re just here to meet his family and spent time with your soulmate. Anything more is a bonus. “Or anything you guys have in mind. I just…” you shrug in admission. “I never take vacations. So I’m reminding myself not to worry about work and trying to relax.”

“A workaholic.” She smirks slightly. “Something I’m very well-versed in.” She teases.

"Can't exactly stop yourself from taking work home with you when you live at work," you admit with a grin.

“As long as it’s work you love, I don’t see a problem with it.” Donna tells you.

"I really do." They already know that, of course, from how much and how proudly you talk about the inn. But still, you're beaming. "Marcus suggested we look at building our house on the property since I already own it, and I think it's only going to be a little while before we start in on that plan."

Building something together is something that Donna highly approves of. She nods. “Word of advice?” She offers with a smirk. “Have a general contractor negotiate any and all disagreements.”

"Noted," you agree instantly, knowing that Marcus's parents have a whole lifetime of experience in this particular area.

“It will solve a lot of arguments.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Over tile size!”

When Selena snorts out a laugh you have to suppose it's a family joke or at least and a family story, and you laugh too. "It's always something small, isn't it?"

“Yep.” She shakes her head and laughs. “One fight was about if the dishwasher should be on the left or right side of the sink.” She huffs. “Matthew rarely loaded the dishwasher, but thought that it continuously unfair to live in a right handed world as a leftie.” She rolls her eyes again, although it’s more amusement than annoyance.

Small things always seem large when they're under the microscope, and you can see how those things could get out of hand. But fortunately, from what you and Marcus have talked about so far, you're mostly on the same page right from the start. "I can see us tussling over little things pretty easily, but I think it will all turn out pretty well in the end. It's definitely a solid way to work through our skills in compromise and communication, though."

“Marcus knows how to communicate.” She promises. “He’s good at it, and if he’s not, I’ll give you free sessions.” She jokes, knowing the last thing any couple would want is to have an in-law involved.

"You'll be glad to hear that I have an excellent therapist to help me handle stressors and any manner of other unexpected event in my life that I need extra help in processing." The importance of simply having an impartial third party is not lost on you, but having a professionally trained and educated one is all the more important when possible stressors could include death threats sent to your family members.

“Very glad.” She nods and reaches out to pat your hand gently. “You are under a lot of pressure. That is obvious.”

"When we get back I have a meeting at the White House." Though you shudder for dramatic emphasis, it is unnerving. Those meetings about social outreach and the image of the First Family had gone well for Junie and Alex but since you're fairly certain what your mother will ask of you, you're dreading it.

“If you ever want to talk, just to vent, you can call me.” Donna offers softly. “Not in a professional capacity, although anything you say would be kept between us.”

"I really appreciate that." It's not something she has to offer. Not at all. But you're so grateful that your soulmate's parents have so far turned out to be wonderful people.

“Of course.” You might not take her up on the offer, but she wanted to extend it.

"And I hope you know you're always welcome in DC. Anytime, no hesitations." You swing back to grin at Selena on your other side. "You too. We could use another partner in crime."

“I am absolutely going to come visit.” Donna promised, and Selena nods eagerly. “Me too! I want to see this inn.”

"If you want to come and stay there, I'll have a word with the owner," you joke, and throw in a wink.

“And the food.” Donna insists. “Marcus has raved about your best friend, Sydney.”

"She's an absolute goddess." You promise them both. Building up your friends and loved ones is always easy for you. "Just the most talented chef you could possibly imagine. And an amazing person, to boot."

“She has to be.” Selena isn’t joking this time. “Marcus doesn’t waste time on people who aren’t amazing.” Now she gives a small, preening grin. “Which is why he loves me so much.” She jokes.

“I know what it is.” After about one full day of hanging out with Selena, you’ve narrowed down why it is that you are so comfortable with her, and it makes you laugh endlessly. “You’re exactly halfway between my best friend and my brother. Who are two of my top three favourite people in the world, despite the crap I give my little brother on a daily basis.”

“That sounds like a high compliment if I’ve ever heard one.” She laughs. “I’m the little sister Marcus never wished he had.”

“He loves all of you like siblings.” Even if he hadn’t said so explicitly, it’s easy to tell.

“We grew up together.” She agrees. “Even if we lived apart, summers together were important. Holidays spent driving each other and our parents crazy.” There’s a fond smile on her face. “Hopefully our kids will experience the same things.”

“I hope so, too.” The idea head settled into your bones and made you sunny with daydreams. “My siblings’ kids, too. The biggest family we can possibly make for them, since we never had any cousins growing up.”

“Pikes tend to assimilate the families that join them.” Donna shoots you a grin. “They are like the Borg.”

“That’s how we collected friends when I was a kid,” you laugh. The Pikes are definitely not like the Borg — they all feel far too much for that and you adore it. “Make friends with one of the three of us and suddenly you were just another family member.”

“That sounds familiar.” Selena snorts. “We love having people around. The more the merrier.”

“Absolutely.” The morning sun has hit the top of the sky but it’s not too hot, just making you stop warding off the crisp breeze as it disappears into a mellow midday.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Selena hesitates. “There was some talk about you dating a Congressman?”

There it is. You were wondering how long it would take someone to ask the very fair question. At least it’s Selena and not Cousin Terry’s wife Hannah who seems to distrust you purely for being the daughter of a politician. Which…is also fair…just not a stereotype that applies to you personally. “I was. For almost a year. I was still seeing him when Marcus and I met, but…” you shrug your shoulders a little, with honesty in the sheepishness. “I fell in love with Marcus so fast, and so deeply. Even if he hadn’t turned out to be my soulmate, I still would have ended things with my ex.”

“I didn’t want to pry, I just hadn’t seen anything about a break up and wanted to know if you were ‘public’ yet.” Selena reassures you. “There’s already been a message in the family chat about not posting while we are here on social media. So we don’t potentially ‘out’ your relationship.”

“It will be out by Easter.” Breathing a sigh of relief isn’t subtle, so you swallow it down and simply tighten your smile into an affirmative. “He’s coming to the Easter Egg Roll at the White House with me. After that, just…try to be conscious of people asking about family photos? If you’ve got ones with Marcus and me in them, we’ll just ask everyone to keep them private. You know, friends only.”

“We are used to that.” She nods and sends you a smile. “We’ve got your back. Don’t worry. No one here is going to judge you. Besides Hannah.” She snorts. “And let’s be honest, she’s a bitch.” Donna chokes out a laugh, quickly smothered, and swats at Selena’s butt from behind you. “Selena!” She scolds, obviously still trying not to laugh.

“Oh.” This time the relief whooshes out of you, but you end up laughing. “So it’s not just me?”

“Hannah is…the least comfortable with the easy, familial closeness of our family.” Donna snorts. “When she first started coming, there was an…accusation.” She hums delicately.

“What could poss—” As soon as your mind spins on it for long enough to actually ask the question, your mouth falls open in horror. “Oh my god! That’s—obviously, obviously I don’t think that. Please know that I have never ever thought that.”

“You don’t think I’m sleeping with Terry?” Selena snorts. “Thank God!”

“No, I definitely do not think you’re sleeping with your first cousin,” you laugh but still shudder.

“Apparently, Hannah doesn’t believe men and women can be friends. Not even relatives.” Selena shrugs. “So if it seems like all the female cousins keep their distance from Terry, it’s not because he’s a pervert. He’s actually amazing. His soulmate is just fucking nuts.”

“Got it.” Even though you flash a thumbs up in acknowledgment, all you can think of is how glad you are that Marcus didn’t stay with Vanessa. She would have hated this for the exact same reason. Probably been Hannah’s only ally.

“Hannah isn’t all bad.” Donna adds, trying to soften it some. “Just….a little…set in her ways. But honestly, this is the only time of year they come. They rarely join other holidays.” She looks over at you. “And pleased don’t think that we expect you to come for every holiday, but we will invite you.”

“We’ll come as often as we can.” You can promise that easily, though you know sometimes he’ll have to work and you’ll have to be at official events with your family. “It…will be easier once my mother is out of office.”

“I understand.” Donna is well aware of the demands of public figures. She had to be seen at a certain number of games and it was her own personal mission to attend the post seasons games any time Matthews’s teams made it. “Just know that we want what is best for you.”

“And that is so much more appreciated than you could know.” Maybe she does. Maybe she understands every bit of it. But because you appreciate the honesty of the words from your soulmate’s mother so much more than you expected to, you leave the phrasing as it is. No stumbling or correcting.

Donna winks at you and links her arm through yours. “You and I are going to be good friends.” She predicts with a happy smile. Marcus is over the moon in love with you and from what she could see, you are much the same. There is nothing more than Donna could ever wish for her baby, to find a smart, loving, good person – and you fit that bill perfectly.

Most of the day is spent in the massive pool down by the bunkhouse, with a little day drinking and a whole lot of horsing around and even a little heckling when some of the cousins got into a competition over best diving form — which quickly degraded into silliest dive. Now it’s sunset, and you’ve thrown a shirt and shorts over your dried out swimsuit for Marcus’s surprise.

“Hey babe.” Marcus finds you again, smiling at the relaxed smile on your face and he hands you a new drink. “You look like you’ve had a good time.”

"Well howdy stranger!" A slight affectation in your voice is just to make him laugh, and you grin when it succeeds. "Where have you been all day? Did you have fun with your Dad?" Matthew Pike had disappeared after breakfast along with his son, and when you had remarked on it to Donna during your walk, she had just said not to worry.

“Of course.” He grins, unable to stop himself as he moves over to caress your neck. “I was taking care of a few things for tonight. Why? Did you miss me?”

"Every second." And you don't care who knows it either. You sit up in your chair and stretch a little more to kiss him, catching the fresh scent of the bodywash he favors as it mixes with his bergamot and musk cologne. He's fresh and clean and it makes you wonder what he's been up to as much as it makes you want to drag him up to his bedroom.

“Good.” He smirks against your lips and offers you his hand as he steps out of your sphere. “Come on.”

"Ooo, is it surprise time?" The look of delight on your face is undisguised as you readily take his hand to pop up from your seat. "I'm all yours."

“Yes you are.” He beams about that fact as he pulls you closer. “Say goodnight to everyone, Birdie.” He hums quietly. “We probably won’t see them again tonight.”

"Good night everybody!" You wave immediately, wrapping your arm around Marcus's waist and barely sparing a backward glance in favor of grinning up at him.

“Damn.” He whistles as he guides you away from the pool and over to the truck. He’s already talked to agent Bailey and cleared things with her, so he just nods as the two of you pass by.

“Damn what?” You pose, laughing a little as you wonder if he’s amused at how quickly you’re ready to leave just about anyone behind to spend time with him.

“I could be a kidnapper and you would just go willingly.” He teases, reaching out and tugging on your ear gently.

“You’d be the best looking kidnapper around and Agent Bailey would have a hell of a time bringing me home,” you tease, hopping into the pickup when he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yep, you have Stockholm Syndrome.” He teases, leaning in to steal one more kiss before he closes the door and hurries around the hood.

Once he’s back in the cab beside you, you flash him a grin. “Belle got a library, I got the softest dom in the whole world and awesome in-laws. I’m okay with it.”

“Softest dom?” He snorts, tilting his head while he tries, and fails to look offended. “I’m a hard dom.” He protests.

"How hard you fuck me when we get going is not what I mean," you clarify, settling into the corner of the seat as he starts to drive the two of you across the compound. "You have the softest heart in the world and I feel very lucky to be the one you've decided to give it to."

“I know.” He promises. “I was teasing. I want you to be happy, healthy and loved. That’s all I want.”

"I am. All three, absolutely." Leaning against his shoulder on the drive, you hum slightly and end up sounding a little sheepish as you look out the window. "I missed you today. Even though we weren't apart too long."

He chuckles slightly and lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles and scrapes his teeth over the delicate skin. “I’ll show you how hard of a dom I am.” He teases. “I’ll put a collar on you.”

Not expected that reaction from him, you make a remarkably incoherent noise of interest and surprise before turning your head to look at him. "Don't tempt me with a good time, Pike."

He had been joking, but the way you react has him pausing. “Is that something you’re interested in?” He keeps the question casual, not wanting to seem like he’s pushing or judging, he’s doing neither.

"I always thought it sounded kind of sexy," you admit, wondering if he was just joking and not serious at all. "I mean it's not like...like something mandatory for me to be happy in a relationship, obviously. If--if you're not into that and at all and you were just joking—"

“Baby.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “Anything you are interested in is something we can talk about. If it’s an absolute no, then I’ll explain why. But I think it sounds kind of sexy too. Collars don’t have to be spiked dog collars where I pull you around on a leash and make you bark.” He snorts.

"A lot of day collars just look like cute little necklaces." Alright, you may or may not have done a little looking into it a few years ago with the guy you were seeing at the time. He was long gone now, but the idea had remained in your head. It was not something Sam would have gone for so it had never been brought up to him.

His brow ticks up, noting your interests and he hums. “They do.” He agrees. “Something sexy about being claimed, isn’t there?”

"Absolutely." He turns left at a pair of apple trees on the western part of the compound and keeps going, while you continue to snuggle next to him like a contented house cat. "I mean...I'm wearing a Pike family nametag. That's about as claimed as it gets."

“Not quite.” Marcus chuckles. “There’s definitely more claiming that can be done.”

"Is that a promise?" You tease, grin growing a little wider when he turns toward a tree line up ahead.

“Absolutely.” He follows the less worn paths through the trees, although it’s obvious from the tire marks through the grass road that someone has been there recently.

"So can I have a hint about where we're going?" This isn't a part of the property that you've been to yet and it's beautifully woodsy in a distinctly Southwestern way that you're finding fantastic.

“You’ll see.” The tree line gives way to clearing and Marcus smiles as the pond comes into view. “Right now.”

The little clearing in the trees is picture perfect. It looks more like a movie set than real life, the tree-lined pond ringed with fairy lights sitting side-by-side with a red and white checked gingham blanket and large picnic basket, and a small cooler to boot. "Baby," you sigh out the endearment excitedly. He knows you love surprises -- your family told him so -- but you weren't expecting anything. That, of course, it was makes surprises so wonderful.

“Now you know what I’ve been doing all day.” He tells you as the truck pulls to a stop close to the picnic sight. “Wanted to make this perfect.”

"It's gorgeous!" You breathe, practically squeaking with excitement as you turn to snuggle into his side as soon as he parks the truck. "Is this your old make out spot? Because if it is? It's an awesome choice."

“Maybe a few times?” Marcus shrugs his shoulders and gives you a boyish grin. “Not too many times.”

"Could make it one more." The exaggerated wink you aim at him makes both of you laugh. "If you wanted to, I mean."

“That was my evil plan.” Marcus admits without any remorse. “Bring you out here, woo you, make out with you.”

"Pretty good plan." Right about now he could undo your seatbelt and haul you into his lap in the truck and you wouldn't protest even for a second. "It's absolutely gorgeous, baby."

“Wanted to give you a special night.” He’s explains, unlatching his seatbelt so he can open the door and walk around to help you out.

“Every night with you is special.” As soon as you’re out of the truck you press in to kiss him, enjoying the lingering warmth of the early evening.

“So you’d rather go have dinner with everyone else than have a romantic picnic by the pond?” Marcus asks, reaching for the door handle. “We can go back…”

“Ohhhhh no.” You shake your head immediately. “We’re staying right here. In our perfect little oasis.”

“I thought you would say that.” Marcus chuckles as he takes your hand to guide you over to the blanket. “I brought wine, but we don’t have to drink anything stronger than lemonade.”

“Wine sounds nice.” You’ve been moderate in your drinking today, having two cups of water for every alcoholic beverage and making sure to eat, so you’re not worried about being too inebriated. “And very romantic, but I don’t ever doubt that from you.”

“Well. I know that it might not be the fanciest, but I wanted to make an effort.” He grins at your praise and both of you sit down on the checkered spread.

“You’re perfect level of fancy for me.” Once you sit down here starts to unpack things, and you fidget slightly on the blanket. “But…Speaking of…of that? I wondered if I could talk to you about an idea that I had.” The actual thought has been rolling around in your head for a while for uncomfortable reasons, but now that it’s Marcus it’s actually a nice thing you don’t mind dreaming about a little.

“Speaking of fancy….” He chuckles. “Alright. I’ll pour out the wine. You pitch me your idea and we will strategize.” He jokes as he opens the top to the wicker basket and produces two, picnic friendly wine glasses and sets them down to retrieve the wine from the cooler.

“Unless you had something else you wanted to talk about?” Maybe that’s what this beautiful picnic is and you’ve usurped the purpose of the night by jumping the gun, you can’t be sure.

“I’m wanting to talk about whatever you want, my love.” He promises as he uses the corkscrew to open the bottle.

“Very accommodating of you.” But that’s Marcus and you know it. Instead you focus on opening up the containers he’s packed away that are holding your dinner. “Do you remember I told you that my mother wants the three of us kids to all do…sort of…family publicity type stuff? Like Junie getting a dog and being willing to be public about it?”

“Yes.” He nods and pours out the wine into each glass. “You didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it, although you tried to put on a good front.”

“I’m not terribly enthusiastic about it.” You can admit that, especially to him. “Which is why I’m not sure if this idea is selfish or not.”

“Honey….” Marcus hands you the wine and takes the container with the cheese from you to open. “You are not a politician, you don’t seek the spotlight. Sharing yourself with the public in a way you need isn’t selfish.” He’s pretty much guessed that it has to be some idea about your relationship, and he’s okay with that.

“It’s selfish because it’s something I’m asking you to do with me.” The wine glass is cold in your hand, a soothing and grounding change from the warm day. Although now that the sun’s down it will be cool sooner rather than later. “Because I’m more comfortable and more confident with you beside me in that spotlight.”

“Whatever you need.” Marcus promises. “Undercover work was never exactly fun for me, and I’m out as a UA now that the picture of us dancing was posted in the papers.”

“I feel like I ought to apologize.” The wine he chose is fruity and dry, much more complex than you would but for yourself despite his claim that it’s not fancy.

“No, sweetheart, please don’t.” Marcus shakes his head. “I was aware pictures would be taken. It was my own choice. And I don’t regret it for a second.”

“I didn’t know art crimes required undercover work. Though I suppose it makes perfect sense now that I think about it.” And you’re definitely stalling, but you push it further by assembling a charcuterie bite from the containers around you.

“It’s rare, but I only took the last assignment where I went undercover was because I needed to get away after things ended with Teresa.” He explains.

"Well, you'll have nothing like that reason ever again." The idea of Marcus with a broken heart is too much to stomach, and the coping mechanism of assembling the perfect charcuterie bite for him now pushing the thought out of your mind.

“I know.” It’s freeing to know that you two are very much in the same pages. Despite the fact that being soulmates does guarantee happiness, you and him will do everything to make sure that your story is a good one.

"So...the thing I wanted to talk to you about..." Enough stalling. Time to be an adult. "Is not because I want to push you, or rush you, or anything like that. But...because I keep thinking about it and thinking that getting ahead of the curve is the only way to really control it, and controlling it will be so much less stressful and make half as much work in the long run."

You’re cute when you’re flustered, Marcus leans back on the blanket, completely relaxed as he takes a sip of his wine. “So are we talking televised wedding? Or just pictures?” He asks.

"We are not broadcasting the wedding." That's the point at which you draw the line, you already know that. It's too much. Too invasive even for a family in the public eye. "I was thinking more like...letting photos be released along the way. Like sharing engagement photos, or photos of dresses that I don't pick. Things like that?"

“I’m perfectly fine with that.” It’s an easy agreement, one that has him lifting a brow. “That was all?”

"Even if that includes sharing photos of your bachelor party or sitting down with a reporter yourself?" The fact that he's willing to agree to it so easily is utterly shocking to you, and you feel like you have to do your due diligence and double check. "Or even share part of the proposal?"

“Whatever you feel comfortable with.” Marcus agrees. “It’s like the family days at the parks or when mom and dad would have interviews.”

Sometimes you really do forget that he already has a frame of reference for all of this. That he understands being a family in the spotlight. You take a sip of your wine and build him another bite from the charcuterie containers, offering it to him with a grateful smile. "I love you. Completely. I really hope you know how grateful I am for you."

“Why don’t we plan to have photos released from our engagement, you and I can sit down with a reporter about the expectations of soulmates and politics. There can be a website for all this with links to charities or causes that you want to champion or bring to light?”

"I don't understand how you get even more perfect." When he takes the cracker from your hand you run a finger under his jaw and end up feeling heat in your cheeks all over again. "When we get back I'll talk to Mom and whoever from her team is supposed to be coordinating my media stuff. And..." That same hand of yours squeezes his knee gently. "This is not me trying to rush you into anything. I'm sure we'll get enthusiastic and rush all on our own."

“Us?” He feigns surprise and smirks slightly. “Maybe we will, maybe we will surprise ourselves.” He turns and kisses the palm of your hand. “But I doubt it.”

"I doubt it, too." It's a kiss from his lips that you want most, and lean forward to steal it without shame. "But I love that we're on the same page so easily."

“So after that birthday….um, debacle…” he makes a face. “Are you totally opposed to the idea of a surprise proposal or what?”

"As long as it's you proposing, a surprise is fine." Debacle is the right word, and you roll your eyes slightly. "I actually do love surprises. Mom told you that."

“You might have changed your mind.” The sun is setting and right on cue, the fairy lights that he had spent the majority of the day stringing around the pond come on.

The way you coo at the change in lighting is full of delight, and you lean into his side on the blanket with nothing short of delight on your face. "See this is why I love surprises. For things like this."

“I was hoping you would like it.” Marcus grins as you stare in loving awe of the lights as they play off the water and the sunset.

"You know...the back of the property at the inn has a little pond like this." You lean back against him and enjoy the view around you. "There's nothing around it really, so I haven't thought about putting a garden there or anything. But...it could be in the backyard of our house if we wanted it to."

“I think we could do that.” Marcus smirks and reaches out to touch the rim of his glass against yours. “Our own little escape.”

"And it's far enough back from the inn to soothe your very sweet concern over historically matching buildings." Which you love, but you don't want him to get so hung up on it that he ends up sacrificing another aspect of the house he might truly love.

“You have something else in mind?” He asks, wondering if you want something different for how you raise your children and where you live.

"I don't really know a hell of a lot about architectural styles," you admit. "I just don't want us to miss out on our dream house because we got stuck on making the buildings match. We can set our house back enough that it will have its own space."

“Any house that has you and our family in it is my dream house.” He promises, smiling at you happily.

"I love you, too." In a way that makes you feel like your heart is going to swell right out of your chest, but in the absolute best possible way.

“I know you do.” Marcus murmurs softly, wondering how he got so lucky with you. “I am a lucky man.”

Leaning back lets you kiss him, just a soft thing but tender and full of desire and promise before you pull back and smile at him softly. "I guess we're both lucky, then."

“Oh!” Marcus pulls out his phone, forgetting that he had programmed it and opens it up to the music app to start playing music. “Forgot that part.” He huffs. “Too eager to pour wine.”

You know even on the first song that it's a playlist of love songs. There is nothing more supremely on point for Marcus than a night like this, with all of the magic that he's infused into this beautiful little dinner. "I don't know how, but you keep making it better every second."

“That’s high praise.” He hums, putting together a bite for you and holding it out for you to eat. “I’ve enjoyed having you to spoil.”

“And you’re about the only person in the world I’ll ever let do it.” The admission comes with a laugh, and you place another soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for suggesting this trip, love.”

“I’m glad you got to come.” He admits with a smile as you take the offered bite and groan at the taste. “I know it was hard to take off last minute and I appreciate it. Next time we will have it planned better.”

“It’s less that it’s hard and more that I get very determined about being hands on,” you admit. “Malachi can run that place in his sleep during the day, and my managers are great. I just…always worry.”

“It’s your baby.” Marcus acknowledges easily. “It’s like a case for me. My team is incredibly proficient at their jobs, but if there is a stake out or some kind of op to be run, I like being there.”

“I’m grateful you understand.” Others hadn’t, and so the fact that Marcus is supportive of your need for work as well as your need for a family is very much appreciated. “And Sydney was joking about sending care packages to your stake outs if you wanted them, so I think your team is about to be very happy, too.”

“If she did, she would become an unofficial member of the team.” Marcus snorts. “They wouldn’t be happy with pizza anymore.”

“I’d have even more FBI agents on my doorstep,” you giggle at the image. “There’s already three of you, we’ll need to designate a dining room or something.”

“The Fed Room.” Marcus snorts, grinning at the idea. “It would never be empty.”

“Syd may have thrown a tiny bit of a fit when I told her I don’t want her to cater any of our wedding stuff,” you admit, cringing slightly as Marcus starts to open another round of containers from the picnic basket. “But she’s my best friend and will be my maid of honor. I want her there by my side, not stuck in the kitchen.”

“How about she can cater the engagement party?” Marcus suggests. “That way she’s involved but it’s not taking over her enjoying your wedding day.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about an engagement party.” The compromise makes you turn up your chin to look at him with wide, starry eyes. “It’s perfect. Just like you, love.”

“We have to have a party.” Marcus teases, kissing your nose. “The press can have the story of my proposal and the engagement party. That’s also a good way to keep our actual engagement to ourselves.”

“I’m so fucking glad you’re with me on this.” The honest laugh is stifled but full of relief as you lounge with him in the blanket. “I would never think of any of this and I’d just end up stressed out or going along with whatever anybody else planned to avoid having to think about it.”

“I will fix anything you ever ask me to.” Marcus promises. “But if you ever don’t like something, you never have to worry about me being upset by that.”

“And the same goes for you,” you promise him, with the same measure of seriousness in your eyes and honesty in your voice. “I hope you know that.”

“I know.” He picks up a grape to pop into his mouth. “You and I are very communicative.”

“I feel like I should apologize.” Your voice lowers slightly, the unsureness seeping through it.

“Why?” Marcus frowns slightly, not liking that comment at all. You have nothing to apologize for. He loves that the two of you are talking and planning your lives together.

“Past relationships…have not been as okay with my tendency to talk everything out at length.” It’s not something that you really ever planned on bringing up, since Marcus likes to dream and plan and plot like you do. But maybe it’s good that he knows, since it has slipped out without you meaning to. “I always felt like I was bothering them with it. And ended up apologizing a lot.”

He frowns even more, reaching out after he sets down to his wine glass and pulls you close. “Sweetheart, I want to talk things out. Even if it’s as mundane as brunch locations or if the entryway table should be moved.” He promises. “Please never feel like you should apologize. I want to hear everything you have to say.”

“You might regret saying that when I get going about the logistics of booking rooms for large parties.” It’s a decent attempt at a joke, even if it’s wry, and you lean into Marcus’s comforting warmth with a sigh. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you are as straight forward and wholeheartedly enthusiastic about this entire relationship as I am. It seems surreal but it’s too wonderful to be a dream, so I’m just doing my best to process the whole thing.”

“You process however you need to.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll be right here to reassure you again. You’re my partner, my lover, and my friend.” He murmurs. “The most important person in the universe to me.”

______

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 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#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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absolutebl · 3 months

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This Week in BL - I'm Late, I know

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - we waiting 2 weeks I guess? Bah.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 13fin - I wasn't impressed by the last ep at all. Trash watch happened here.

My final thoughts:

Based on alittlebixth's omegaverse novel #พิษเบ๊บ’ set in the world of car racing omegaverse. Thailand brought us the world's first omegaverse BL but then failed to lean into the courage of its a/b/o convictions by not emphasizing the difference between our world & theirs, adding & subtracting characters & allegiances + a weak ending. With earnest performances, enthusiastic sex scenes, a fantastic side couple, and some delightful scenery chewing - the actors tried… poor things. It's just the story failed both them and their parent genre. Frankly? I just wanted it to be more outrageous and trashy, since I never expected it to be good. Instead, it was just… meh. 7/10

(Imma remind all the newbies that this is not unprecedented from me with hugely popular BL.)

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 10 of 12 - I like it but there’s a high % of this show that doesn’t interest me. Anything to do with the side couple, or the friend group, or the cooking competition drives me into a comatose state of UGH. That means that in this episode, I paid attention to about 5 minutes worth.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - I'm ready for this to be done. I think they were trying to be this year's Big Dragon, but they just aren't good enough. I really didn’t need a third couple.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - I'm warming up to FueangKrom a bit. It’s cute. I am finding the pacing interesting. That pacing might be bad, but right now it’s simply different.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love For Love's Sake (Korea Weds iQIYI) 5-6 of 8 - I still love this show a lot, but this 2 ep installment felt a little disjointed. I’m not sure if that’s the narrative structure or the subs. The captions are shockingly bad for a KBL and I don’t have enough Korean to make up for their clear failings.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Oh the return of the manic pixie dream ex. This is all very high school drama for purportedly grown-up adults. But them both being jealous and then kissing was sweet.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - They remain adorable and the sunshine robot is very sweet. But it is a little slow.

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - I prefer the episodes when we get more of them onscreen together. But this was fine.

Happy Ending (Korea Tues YT) 3fin - The ending disappointed me (are you surprised?). What can I say, not Strongberry's best as far as I’m concerned. High school besties that many could be sweethearts. I don’t like an ending that’s left up in the air. 6/10

It's Done but...

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

It's Airing But...

[NO INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 12 eps - Gave me Luminous Solution vibes. It finished, is it worth it?

Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) 12 eps - finished, horror, supposed to be very philosophical, I think I'll give it a go.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Up

2/16 My Strawberry Film (Japan Gaga) - not quite sure how much BL this one is, because... Japan, but we shall see.

2/17 A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - Khonprot, a third-year head hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through many girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks maybe a boy has a chance. Unless this is really good I probably won't I hate the WeTV interface...

Still Coming in Feb

2/24 Unknown (Taiwan Youku) 12 eps - Older brother tough guy criminal breadwinner looks after his sister and defacto adopted little brother. Little bother falls in love with him and is sent away after a stolen kiss. But when he comes back…

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

We gotta talk about LFLS this week. Look at Korea go!

Talking about a dead fish kiss, how meta! This will end up on one of my best of the year moments. I could not have been more gobsmacked.

Also something rarely directly addressed, particularly for same-sex firsts.

And then, a claiming trope, a personal favorite of mine.

Thank you Korea!

I just love them. (Pit Babe)

(Last week)

#pit babe the series #pit babe review #alanjeff #cooking crush #thai bl #love for love's sake #kbl #korean bl #Perfect Propose #Although I Love You and You #Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka #japanese bl #AntiReset #Taiwanese bl #cherry magic thailand

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littlerosetrove · 18 days

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I think the show is going to start doing better by Eddie in upcoming episodes, and I desperately hope I’m right. Some critical thoughts incoming because I just want better for Eddie.

My focus of this post is about Eddie being in a romantic relationship, although there are absolutely so many potential storylines to delve deeper into with Eddie. Trust me, I know.

I do get why Eddie was with Ana, I do. That man was still repressing so much trauma for starters, and (even now) Eddie was also feeling pressured by society and his upbringing to “give Chris another mom.” It was something Eddie felt like he should do. And hooboy does Eddie still need to work on issues surrounding things he often feels like he “should” do. We all know that Eddie stuck it out with Ana far longer than he should have (Ana is guilty of this two, cause it takes two to tango). An apt description for Eddie is that he’s “the architect of his own misery.” ← Idk who originally said this phrase, but I got it from @yramesoruniverse, and it’s true.

Speaking of misery. No matter how the show tried to paint it as something cute and good, there is nothing actually good about Marisol and Eddie. Let me explain and bear with me.

Let’s be real. The show during 6B treated Eddie’s loneliness and his subsequent desire to date as a joke. Maybe not 100%, but even 1% is too much. That montage of Eddie going hiking, playing golf (??), and hanging out at a fucking country club (?????) to find a date? That was played for laughs.

Now at one point, Eddie had a genuinely great heart to heart with Bobby. I can’t recall their conversation exactly right now since I haven’t rewatched season 6 since it aired, but I know Bobby basically said Eddie should find someone who will sit with him during the hard times (please correct me if I’m wrong).

But then the show tried to frame Eddie running into Marisol - someone he met on a call - as this spark, this magical moment. Let’s remember that in season 6 Eddie was wistfully reminiscing on his and Shannon’s beginning and called it magic. And so again, the show tried to say, “Hey look! Eddie bumping into Marisol (no last name) is meant to be. This is magic!” Then we jump into season 7 where we’ve gotten no development on Marisol still, and zero development on their relationship, unless you want to call Eddie admitting to using Marisol as a babysitter as some development. Hell, we don’t even know how Chris feels about her. With all of this in mind, to me this just looks like Eddie had grabbed onto the first person he could so he wouldn’t be lonely. If the show wanted us to care an iota about Marisol or their relationship in any capacity, they would have. But they haven’t. And that’s just heartbreaking for Eddie. All they’ve given Eddie is a surface level, nothing of a relationship.

It’s clear Eddie and Marisol are going to break up in 7x7 at the latest, and… for what? 7x5 will definitely have to do some backfilling on where and why their relationship isn’t going to work (it doesn't appear Marisol will be in 7x6). Even still, what was the point of it all?? Before anyone says it, yes Eddie is allowed to date, even casually, but GD there’s been nothing to grasp onto, you know? No reason to feel even remotely excited or happy that Eddie’s dating, specifically not with Marisol (and the actress is a shitty person) who ffs doesn’t even have a last name. Just having two attractive people in the same room does nothing for me, sorry.

To try and conclude this, this *gestures at everything I just said* is why I want better for Eddie and Ryan. I really really hope we’re going to get something of substance for Eddie as a character. Yes it’s been great to see Eddie so much happier in season 7 (thanks to therapy, though he needs more, and Buck and Tommy lbr), but, and to stick with the relationship aspect of it all, I want better for Eddie. Idk if Eddie will have or needs someone like Tommy for himself, or if Eddie is just going to work on himself before the next relationship he’s in will be Buck. We’ll have to wait and see, but yeah…. Eddie just. deserves better.

(this post was inspired by a recent conversation I had with @elvensorceress)

#911 spoilers #9-1-1 #911 meta #Eddie Diaz #my thoughts #gosh I hope this all made sense #I read over it a few times but yeah...

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 months

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Buck & Eddie: Eddie KNOWS Buck!

The title of episode 7x5 is "You don't know me" (it could change) and when I read it, all I could think about is something I haven't been able to forget since 6x4 aired. It was Buck’s conversation with Connor and IMO, it was weird and superficial for REASONS I might explain in a future post.

Anyway, Buck's overall arc in Season 6 was about him trying to be at ease while not making the same mistakes (which started at the end of 5x18). In 6x1, he wanted to be interim captain, then he went on to search for happiness in 6x2 followed by his decision to be Connor's sperm donor in 6x4 and that led to the comment included in the scene below, "I know those things about you". But the question is, does Connor really know Buck? 🤔

Reminder, based on the things that were shown in CANON in 4x5, Buck and Connor never really knew each other. They were acquaintances who met while they were in Peru and that was after Buck left Hershey when Maddie told him to "Go and be happy". During their conversation while Buck was bartending, Connor "suggested" Buck move to L.A. with him and the guys he knew because they were "kind of like a family". It's important to note that Connor said it after he stopped listening to Buck while he was trying to explain something to him.

Who always listens to Buck? EDDIE!

Now on to Season 7.

In the recent TCA interview, with regards to Buck’s self-discovery journey, OS commented that Buck’s sperm donation for his friends "hasn't necessarily played in any kind of conscious way so far" within the first 5 episodes (see below).

So the question is, could Buck tell Connor, "You don't know me!" in a conversation about the baby in 7x5 and it have something to do with Buck’s self-discovery journey? It's possible since as mentioned above, Connor doesn't really know Buck. Let's be real... when Connor reappeared they hadn't seen each other in three years and the attributes Connor mentioned about why he asked him to be his sperm donor instead of him going to a sperm bank aren't necessarily HEREDITARY.

Reminder, Buck likes to make things about himself and he likes to fix things. Therefore, the way things played out in 6A made it seem like he was making things about himself with the sperm donation too.

Here are a few of the comments that have been said to Buck and about him by his family.

In 3x1 and 3x2 (they replayed some of the scene from the end of 3x1 at the beginning of 3x2), Chris said, "You're going to be ok kid" after Buck told him he hopes he finds a job he likes and somethimg that makes him feel like he matters when he grows up. This happened after Buck quit the 118 but before the Tsunami.

In 3x6, Hen told Bobby, "I think Buck makes everything hard on Buck. The boy has two settings... zero and shut up before I smack you". They were discussing Bobby letting Buck work again after the lawsuit.

In 3x9, Eddie said, "So we're making this about you again?" while they were in the kitchen after Buck apologized for the second time following the lawsuit.

In 3x16 Chimney said, "So it's all about you?" when Buck was telling the team about Red.

In 3x16, Maddie said, "So you don't think this business with Red is hitting a little too close to home? A lonely hero firefighter who's pining for his lost love."

In 4x5, Athena said, "You never give up, that's what being Buck means to me" after he stayed in the warehouse fire against orders.

In 5x4, Eddie said, "You're the guy who likes to fix things" after Maddie and Chimney left.

In 6x11, dead Bobby said, "Aww kid, if what matters to you most is the way people see you... then you haven't learned a damn thing" in Buck’s coma dream.

They all know how Buck likes to make things about himself and at various points, they've said it in some form or another. Family won't hesitate to tell the people they love the truth unlike those who want to get what they can then leave like Connor did. And that's one of the reasons why I think Buck didn't talk to anyone about the sperm donation because if he had, they would have told him the truth. He did talk to Hen and even though she didn't discourage him, she did caution him about the possible ramifications of it except he was adamant about doing it and he wouldn't listen to the universe when it kept screaming at him.

Does Connor know Buck? NO!

The person who does know Buck is EDDIE!

Eddie not only knows him, HE SEES HIM! He also listens to him, he takes care of him and he's the one who's been there for him. In 6x1, he helped Buck see another side to Bobby's decision about interim captain. In 6x6, Eddie was the one who reassured him that Karen would be fine without a spleen. The list goes on and on but 9-1-1 made it a point in Season 6 to show the GA that NO ONE knows Buck like Eddie does and that continued even in 6x15 when Buck said that BS about ND seeing him.

No one believed it and it's possible Buck didn't believe it either.

The point of this post is that Buck’s breakdown may finally happen in Season 7 and it might have something to do with the sperm donation 👀.

Reminder, he didn't have one in season 6 even though he died and I think all of these things are related and could lead to it.

If Buck does have a breakdown, who's going to be by his side? EDDIE!

The same way Buck was by Eddie’s side after Eddie’s breakdown.

I said I wasn't going to speculate and I hadn't planned on it but I have so many thoughts about what could trigger Buck’s breakdown and I've been debating whether I'll post them. But I just might now that everything seems to be pointing in that direction.

Will Buck finally breakdown in season 7? Only the showrunner, writers and producers know the answer to that question.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 on abc #911 meta #911 spoilers #911 speculation #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation #911 season 6 speculation #buck's breakdown 911 #evan buckley character study 911 #anti connor and kameron #oliver stark #ryan guzman

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yaut-jaknowit · 6 months

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Mating Season Ends

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3359

Summary: After lasting about 2 weeks, mating season ends and the ship returns to normal. Dwainet didn't get a single female. You begin to learn the life that We'ar-ow leads and all that consists within in it.

Author Note: Slowly working at this while getting to requests, promise! I had to think about how I was going to go along with this story. I think I have it down, we'll see it. Also, I haven't forgotten about the 1k drawing. I'm only four away currently so we'll seeeee

Masterlist

Ao3

There’s a smirk among We’ar-ow’s face. Said Yautja is sat upon a single seat chair in her living room, tablet in her grasp. Though, she hadn’t forced you to be out here with her, your room was starting to get beyond boring of just standing there and doing nothing. Instead, you’ve ventured out and explored what was available to you.

A watchful eye was kept on her as you moved around, like a fearful animal ensuring you didn’t anger her. You knew, despite her gaze on the device, she also observed you. Always. You stopped and peered over at the pink Yautja, head slightly tilted. She doesn’t often let loose any expressions but the fact she had a full grin peeked your interest. Yet, you didn’t dare raise a question.

Right as you were about to continue exploring, We’ar-ow grunted. “Do not be afraid to ask a question, pet,” she said, eyes still on the tablet. You tensed up and worried at your bottom lip. “Speak.”

You groaned lowly. “Why are you smirking?” you brought up the question rolling around your mind. Her upper mandibles twitched, clicking against the bottoms ones. You stayed in the same spot by a room you’ve never been in before.

“That male you mated with.” Dwainet. You slightly flinch as his words rang in your mind. “The mating season ends today. Not a single female reported mating with him.” Reported? They listed that shit?! By god’s grace… all of this was so strange and kind of disgusting to be honest. Why would you want someone to know who you… ehm, had sex with?

Disgust fell over your face. “Why do you know this?” you asked another question, feeling uncomfortable about the conversation.

We’ar-ow raised her device slightly. “We have everything charted. It’s a way to ensure inbreeding does not occur or any diseases appear, we are able to track it down to whom.” Okay… now that made more sense. Still though, you didn’t want your dirty laundry to be aired. “I expected no one to mate with his disloyal ass. I like to know if it was true.”

Her words from when she bested Dwainet rung inside of her head. Right. Since he committed a low crime, not a single female would let them mate with her. Something you also took joy in, just less noticeable. You cleared your throat and softly nodded your head. “That’s… that’s good to know,” you spoke and leaned against the wall close by.

A hum filled the tense air. “Yes. Are you pleased?” Now, your brows furrowed at her words. Why would she care? You just shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly to answer her question. “You still care,” it was more of a statement than a question.

Deep down, you do. You still do. Your heart continuously ached at the heartbreak but he was your first love, true love at first sight. As stupid as the whole situation was, you still cared about the person who smashed your heart without any remorse. Look at you now: a pet to the Monarch of an alien clan. How your world had turned upside down.

“Yes,” you hissed out and stared down at the ground. “I do, okay?”

The couch groaned underneath her as she got up. Instantly, your head whipped up and watched as she made her way over to you. Everything just froze in your mind again, unable to think of way to escape or anything of the sort.

As she stopped before you, she reached out with her hand cupped your chin. Your first reaction was to flinch, but her touch was soft. “Why?” she demanded and tilted your head up to look her in the eye.

A defensive streak rose inside of you. Why did she have to question everything you did? “He was my first love. It felt like true love at first sight,” I said and tried to keep a neutral expression on my face. I didn’t need her to be anger at anything I said.

She hummed once more. A few muscles on your face twitched. Her thumbed swiped along your cheek and drew your attention to something shining on the finger. A tear. You were crying. Why? To save what left over dignity, you tore your head from her grasp. There wasn’t anywhere else to go though so you just stayed against the wall, arms crossed.

“Oomans are so foolish.” You curled more in on yourself. “Love at first sight? There’s no such thing. It is something to nurture and help flourish.” If you had it in you, you would’ve barked out a laugh. As if she or her kind knew of care and kindness.

Rough around the edges. The inside, worse. Just a cactus where their hearts should be. Ugly, heartless, and homewrecker. You kept a heady stare on the floor and grumbled out inaudible words. Not that she would care.

All you wanted was to go home! Fresh, hot tears steered down the lengths of your cheeks and darkened the cloth of your shirt. You bit your tongue; silence was the best answer to any argument. Because it stopped them. She can keep stating her case, breaking your already shattered heart. Here you are, staying quiet and knowing everything she said was the truth. You were foolish and stupid. Look where it got you.

A warm hand tipped your head back up to be face to face with We’ar-ow once more. Your gaze still cast downwards, no matter what she did. The Yautja sighed, a rough sound on your ears, and dropped her head. Then picked her massive head back up to look at you. Her pupils boring an unnecessary hole into you. “I see you have come to realize the truth.”

And the truth hurt. Your bottom lip wobbled.

“That male never cared about you. Not truly. Not the way you wanted. You were something new to his young mind, a new toy if you must. The novelty worn off when realized a ooman mate will diminish his chances of producing a strong bloodline.” Every single word of hers was a gut wrenching, heart tearing, punch to where it hurts most.

Your shoulders trembling at the first sob. Once the damn broke, it was hard to stop. The stress of it all was caving in on you after one beam fell. Your knees gave out and forcing you to drop to the ground. From there, you sobbed your heart out in front of someone you didn’t trust. You backed yourself against the wall and curled as tightly into a ball that was possible.

We’ar-ow stood tall above you, unsure on what to do, arms limp at her sides. Slowly, as if she was hunting, she lowered herself to her haunches, still towering in height and size.

“I wa-was nothing more, more than a play, plaything to him!” you cried into your thighs, body shaking with each pathetic weep. That year with him meant nothing! Nothing to him. While it was thought to be the best time of your life… you were only blinded by the lies and façade.

Coarse, rough skin petted the top of your head and ran down to the base of your neck. You were shocked out of your cryfest as the pain of the mark being touched and hissed. In reaction, you snapped your head up and pinned the limb against the wall. But, that caused it to hurt worse. You jerked away from the wall and reached back to gentle poke at the now blazing mark.

In a whirlwind of emotions and unstable mindset, you snapped at We’ar-ow. “Why did you fucking touch it?!” The mark had scabbed over during the healing process but the skin around it was still sensitive and sore. “You don’t know shit!”

She just sat there, on her haunches, only raising a singular brow at you. “I do not?” she questioned lowly, face revealing nothing of her emotions. You didn’t know what to be more scared after the raging emotions died. Unable to know what she was feeling or how calm those three words came out. You swallowed thickly and curled back into a frightful ball. Maybe she’ll just get this over with and kill you.

Something warm rested under your jaw and forced it up once more. But you don’t look the predator in the eye. That. That is a death sentence. “Pet, I asked you a question.” Again!? Seriously? You could just feel the need to sob your heart out all over again. Why does she keep calling you that? Why not your name? Or something more human than ‘pet’?

For all the energy you had left, you simply just nodded your head. We’ar-ow did not understand your feelings for Dwainet. She never will.

The Yautja simply made a ‘hmpf’ sound and barely nodded her head in thought. “Why do you think that?” she asked. Another question to force you to respond, in any way. Your eyes clenched shut and pushed out any leftover tears. Then, you gulped and took a deep breath.

“I’ve been around your kind long enough. You are a rude, inconceivable species with not a single centimeter of space for love. You, out of everyone, don’t know a single thing about my situation!” Your voice grew in volume the longer you talked. Not that you meant for that to happen.

With her long tongue, the pink Yautja was able to click her tongue and shook her head. The hand under your chin slid against your skin to rest upon your cheek this time. “When I had first found you, my dear ooman, you were a mess of emotions and sorrow. That tells me enough. My age comes into play next. I’m older than you think, gaining experience through my years. I do understand, ooman.”

You snorted through your nose and glared from underneath your brows up at her. We’ar-ow leaned in close, enough for her breath to fan across your wet face. “Why do you think I’ve taken you in as my pet?” Your body tensed, frozen in thought before your shoulders shrugged.

One of her upper mandibles lifted. Her long, pink tongue slithered out and licked up a stripe of your salty tears. “You’ll find out in time.” You jerked your head back only to smack it against the wall behind you, upper lip curling up. We’ar-ow chuckled.

Without a word, you silently pouted and stayed on the ground. We’ar-ow stood back up and offered a hand to you. “Come along, pet.” You scowled at the name but took up on her offer. Just using a sliver of her strength, she pulls you up to your feet. You were yanked up, not expecting the sudden strength or move. The action caused you to bump into her.

One of her arms settled between your shoulder blades and held you steady against the warmth of her body. Blazing heat flashed across your cheeks and raced up to the tips of your ears. You swallowed thickly, entirely form tense and unwilling to move. Neither did she.

The entire time, her gaze was tilted down at you. An alien grin growing on her mandibles, minute. In the state of shock, you didn’t even have time to see it on her features. It was gone as you took all the space you could away from her, back against the wall once more. You took a deep breath in, cleared your throat, and finally looked the predator in the eye. “Where are we going?” you spoke, voice different than before.

We’ar-ow let her arm fall limp to at her side, her eyes still trained on your meek, nervous form. “Out. I have more things to finish before the end of the cycle,” she explained, observed you for a few extra seconds before turning about face and heading towards the door. A scowl fell upon your features at the notion of going out there once more. Paraded as her damn pet.

From the safety of being behind her, you glared fiery daggers at the Yautja and wished you could throttle her. Then, you took the needed steps to catch up to We’ar-ow. The two of you were out the door and shortly on your way to wherever.

The halls weren’t overflowing with the aliens. Today seemed to have calmed down after the season had ended officially. Everyone tired out after the last two weeks had everyone’s hormones thrown into a whirlwind. One that got you caught up in this mess of trouble and rage.

During the entirety of her strutting, you promptly stayed at her six and used her shadows to hide. Pathetic, even with how little Yautjas there were roaming. After everything that has occurred, staying as safe as possible was a necessity to your survival. You don’t know who will challenge the Monarch, as stupid as they would be, for your head. Oomans aren’t well liked upon the predatory species as you’ve come to learn. But here you were, in the lions den with the leader of tribe as your protector. All it takes is one person…

A familiar color caught your eye, feet faulting for a couple of seconds. You accidentally trip over air, barely saving yourself an embarrassing face plant in front of everyone… including Dwainet. Without truly thinking about it, you rushed to catch up once more to the pink Yautja. Your eyes prompt finding the dark metal grey floors far more interesting than the burning rage glare pinned on you.

Cliché enough but if looks could kill, the heat from his gaze would burn hotter than a sun. Death, instantaneously.

One look couldn’t be helped. Eyes flickering for just a millisecond, one too long. You took note that his eyes weren’t on your own. Instead… a little lower, towards your neck. Instinctively, you reached up to touch at the warm leather wrapped peacefully there. A constant reminder to who owned you. If looks could kill… We’ar-ow would be thrown out an airlock and forgotten about.

After that shorter, hair-raising encounter, you stuck to We’ar-ow’s backside like glue. The Yautja didn’t need a leash to keep you this close to her. Just straight terror of what your ex-lover might do to you. Especially learn what had happened to him. He had to be seething from the limited knowledge you had about his species.

The hallway you were taking seemed familiar. Somewhat at least. You scrapped through your mind to remember where this was leading you. Before you had a chance, We’ar-ow stopped in front of a door and imputed a code. Your eyes snapped to her movement, only catching the last three pushes. Three, not bad out of the six you believed was the length of her code.

It opened up to reveal the grand throne room. We’ar-ow marched into the room at her normal strutting pace. Once more, you were left to scramble after her. The Monarch took each step up to the throne chair with pride. You watched as the calm, relaxed Yautja morphed into the leader of her clan. Her face no longer as causal, eyes slightly hooded over as she looked down on the empty space before her.

On the other hand, you went to the spot you had sat at before. Only to notice a soft, plush cushion in place. Despite her gaze on the purple carpet before her, you looked over at her. You were hesitant to sit down on the pillow, unsure if this was the purpose of it. Or something to taunt you with.

A subtle nod came from the Yautja. You released the breath you were holding and thanked to whatever god could hear you for this offering before sitting down.

Instead of the harsh, back breaking metal that once met your bottom, the cushion offered support and relief. You sat easily on the large pillow and crossed your legs, knees bent to sit comfortably. It was definitely an upgrade compared to last time. All you had to do now was somehow find a way to entertain yourself for the time being. Unfortunately.

Yet, something was thrusted into your vision. Your head jerked back, nearly falling backwards and stared at what looked to be a tablet. We’ar-ow held it out, bright iris peering at you from the corner of her eye.

When you didn’t grab it in a reasonable amount of time, she moved it closer to while wiggling it as well. Timidly, you reached out and took the device from her. “Thanks,” you mumbled and inspected the tablet. It wasn’t anything fancy or spectacular but tapping the screen caused it to light up.

From there, you dove more into finding what the item could do in your favor. Plowing through time without even noticing.

It wasn’t until a foot was nudging against your numb legs you uncurled from your shrimp position. We’ar-ow stood before you, regel as ever. You blinked a few times before catching onto what she wants from you. Shutting off the screen and holding the tablet to your chest, you unsteadily got up, legs barely listening to your command.

Like clockwork, the duo had returned back to We’ar-ow’s room. The Yautja walked into the kitchen and sifted through things to gather a couple of items. The entire time, you observed her movements, taking notice how she carries herself while in the privacy of her quarters. Different, relax, causal.

“Are you hungry?” We’ar-ow’s words break you from your thoughts. You shook your head to clear any lingering thoughts.

“Y-yeah, a little,” you voiced and stepped into the living room. Just enough space for We’ar-ow and limited guests if she invites any over. That made you question internally if the Yautja had anything close to a friend. The society of her species highly varies from your own. Was there friendship? Was there relationships? Was there love?

No. There couldn’t be. Not after Dwainet. He taught you his kind was built for love. Just a species morphed to kill. Kill everything in their path, even those who cared about them.

You found yourself settling down on a single person seat that easily engulfed your human body. The tablet was laid comfortably in your lap as you continued to play, mess with it if you must. The things you learned currently were far more helpful than ever.

A map, cameras. All that was needed to show you where their ships were docked, where there was airlocks, emergency escape pods. Everything. From the months you projected to surviving on this ship suddenly turned to days, weeks at most. Freedom was in sight. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel. And it was beautiful.

A plate of assorted fruits/vegetables was placed on the side tablet next to you. We’ar-ow posted her frame to lean against the armrest and peered over you. “Does this give enrichment?” The translator struggled for a moment to find the right word for last part of her sentence.

Nonverbally, you dipped your head as you used an app of sorts to access the internet. Their internet. Strings of Yautja covered the screen, nothing legible. The implant translator only worked with speech, not text. You haven’t found a way to change the language. If there was a way to switch to English…

The Yautja hummed before leaning, showering you in her body heat and pressing a couple of buttons on the screen. Then, voila! Magic. Yautja changed to English in a blink of an eye. “I swear… that male failed you more ways than just the five I count.”

“I have the translator implanted,” you retorted mindlessly and explored the new mode revealed to you. We’ar-ow scoffed once more and used a sharp nail to tap at mentioned device.

“My point still stands.” How much you believe that? Zero. As you’ve come to learn quickly, there was no arguing with her. Instead, you just stayed glued to the tablet and partially ignoring the huge Yautja next to you.

Said predator finally stalked off after a few minutes of watching you. Thankfully. Now, it was time to see what their internet consisted of.

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