#of course post inconsistency will continue

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 11

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: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 14.9k 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* Fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Marcus Pike the Breeding Kink King, a dash of dirty talk, the tiniest whiff of roleplay, sexual activity in a public place, cum eating. False accusations of cheating, gossip rags being gossipy, descriptions of getting a tattoo (needle mention). Summary: The end of your trip to Texas comes with a few surprises, and a meeting with your mother goes far better than expected. But good things do not guarantee paradise forever. Notes: Hi my lovelies! I do apologize for the spotty posting timeline lately. My health has been inconsistent to say the very least and continues to be unpredictable. Thank you for bearing with me and always being so incredibly supportive. I'm certain that I missed fixing some errors in this chapter, but I blame the migraine I've have for the last 10 days. Enjoy this week's chapter!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

The last night you and Marcus are in Texas comes after an afternoon-long barbecue that somehow manages to outdo every barbecue of every previous day. You're pretty sure that you've been nibbling constantly since sunrise but rather than being overwhelmed, you're just sorry that you're going to have to leave tomorrow and not see most of these people again for a long time.

The water in Marcus's hand is for you and he comes over to drop a kiss on your lips as he presses it into your hand. "Band is starting at seven." He tells you. "Do you want to shower beforehand?"

"Probably should." There's mischievousness in your agreement, though, and you tuck a smirk in the corner of your mouth as you take the water from him. "I saved my cutest top for tonight. To be the very best groupie I can be."

"Oh really?" He chuckles at how eager you have been to meet his old bandmates. "I like groupies." He smirks, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you close. "Really like them."

"Do you want to show me how much?" You ask, letting that smirk loose but keeping your voice very quiet even when you bat your eyelashes at him.

"I can do that while we shower." He groans wickedly, winking at you. "Unless you want to save that for after the show?"

"No need to save," you assure him easily, drinking down half of the glass of cold water he brought you and letting your grin grow wider. "There will be hours in between. We can do both."

"Insatiable." He grins back and you, wrinkling his nose slightly and proud about that fact. "I love it."

"C'mon." Grabbing his hand, you head for the house with a bitten back grin. Back inside and upstairs to his room – now appropriately defiled by the fact that you're in that Early Relationship Honeymoon Period and horny as hell – to add his childhood bathroom to the list of places you've fucked on this property.

Marcus smirks when there’s a number of suggestive whistles that ring out. Everyone here aware of how eager the two of you are and he gives a halfhearted wave before disappearing. You might be embarrassed if you cared at all, but his cousins have been nothing but welcoming and accepting. They all seem to share the opinion that Marcus has waited too long to meet his match and you are more than happy to be the one that they have welcomed as their cousin – or nephew or son's – perfect match.

“I love them all, but I need to get you alone.” Marcus huffs as he practically races over to the stairs.

"Alone, naked, and wet, I hope." You're on the stairs just ahead of him, the advantage of one or two steps meaning your ass is right in his face as you hustle up to the second floor.

"How wet you are depends on how good of a job I do turning you on." He can't help himself, reaching out and slapping your ass, something you love if your delighted giggle is anything to go by. "How wet are you?"

“Wet enough that if you even touch me over my clothes, I’m going to moan,” you admit, glancing back at him when you reach the top of the stairs.

"Promises, promises." Marcus reaches out and cups your pussy from behind, jumping up the last two steps to press close to you. "Fuck, I love you." He growls into your ear as he rubs your clit.

“Oh fuck—” Maybe it’s more of a whine than a groan but the arousal in your voice is unmistakable. Pressed between Marcus and the wall, your hips rock to get as much pressure and friction from his hand as absolutely possible. “I—I love you too, baby. Fuck.”

"Shower." He orders softly, pulling away from you reluctantly. He knows he can't fuck you in the hallway and his cock is already pressing against his shorts.

Since the discovery of your interest in a more submissive role sexually, you and Marcus have been enjoying playing with the dynamic. Soft orders for things that he knows will bring you both pleasure. Seeing how well you follow his instructions while he’s inside of you in any way. Right now you move with long strides to get to the shower as quickly as possible, already shedding your clothes along the way.

Smirking as he watches the rushed strip show, Marcus pulls his own shirt over his head. He's never had someone so enthusiastic for his touch and it's honestly its own kind of high. Plenty of women wanted him, but not with the hunger that you constantly display. He can only hope that it never changes. "So sexy." He huffs, unbuttoning his shorts to step out of them as he follows you.

“Oh yeah?” As soon as the water is on, you glance back over your shoulder and throw him the most tantalizing glance you can possibly summon. “Come and show me how much.”

“Fuck.” He hisses and immediately rushes forward to crowd into the shower with you, pressing kisses to your back as he folds in closer to you.

Marcus might be testing the waters with how dominant he’s comfortable being, but he still likes it when you show him how much you want him. When you hum at the feeling of his hands on your skin or moan deep in your throat at the perfect kiss. He even loves moments like these, when you whimper at the way his large hands spread over your body to hold you as close to him as you can possibly be without him being inside you.

“Love you.” He whispers into your skin, not wanting you to forget it in the two seconds since he has said it last.

“I love you, too.” Pressed into that little space together, you twist your head around to kiss him and then lean forward against the wall. There aren’t too many comfortable ways to fuck standing up under falling water, but having him press into you from behind is good no matter where you are.

His hands slide over your body and one sinks between your thighs. Immediately parting enough for his hands with a quickness than has him smiling. “You like when I finger you?” He teases. “Rub your sensitive little clit for you?”

“I like every way you touch me.” Your hips roll as if to prove it, searching for the right angle to get his thick fingers to sink inside of you.

“Greedy.” He chuckles softly. “That’s what you are.” He doesn’t pull his hand away, giving you what you want as two fingers slip inside you. “My greedy girl.”

“Can’t blame me for getting addicted.” You moan, forehead pressed against the tile, when his fingers scissor open inside you. “You feel so fucking good baby.”

“You feel better.” He groans quickly, working you open as the hot water rushes over you.

“Made just for you, baby.” If there was ever anyone you could truly feel that about, it’s Marcus. The way he seems to make you feel complete in ways you didn’t know you needed or even wanted is uncanny and beautiful. And the way he fills you to bursting is just as fantastic.

Marcus worships you with small kisses as his fingers move inside you, groaning in your ear about how good you feel. The thick length of him pressed against your ass. “Marcus—” His name is a whine and a prayer with every long stroke of his fingers. “Please, baby. Please fuck me.”

“I’m going to.” He promises, grinding against your ass as he continues to finger you. “Too bad you still have your birth control.” He moans in your ear. “Dreamed about you pregnant last night. Nice and round with my baby.”

“Fuck.” If anyone had suggested pregnancy or breeding or any of those fertility-related kinks to you before Marcus, you might have laughed them out of your bedroom. But in a few short weeks, you’ve got from wanting children but not looking forward to being pregnant — all the way to getting wet at the thought of starting to swell with Marcus’s baby. The impulse to promise you’ll stop taking it tomorrow is right on the tip of your tongue but you know it’s just a touch too soon. “Yeah?” You breathe instead. “You woke up hard to the thought of fucking me full of your baby?”

“Why do you think I was ravenous this morning?” He asks, chuckling at how he had woken you up. He had been a little embarrassed by the dream, so he hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but realized later that it was dumb to keep it from you. “When you’re ready, I’m going to be feral.”

“We need to start building that house now.” You insist, suddenly possessed of a whole new set of reasons to be eager for more privacy.

He chuckles as he nibbles on your shoulder, moving to the hollow of your neck. “Yeah? You want to paint a nursery right away baby?”

“We’re gonna have to if you keep growling about getting me pregnant.” Something which you apparently find far sexier than you anticipated, if the way your cunt throbs and pulses around his fingers is any indication.

"You love the idea." He challenges softly, humming against your pulse. "It's not my fault you're so perfect I can see the future we have in store."

“I love the idea so much I’m ready to say let’s just buy a house.” The throaty laugh you let out burns into a long moan when he curls his fingers inside you. “Need you, baby.”

"Never want you to say that I don't give you what you want." He pushes your feet apart, careful not to let you slip on the slick tile and pulls his fingers out of you to immediately replace them with his cock. A smooth transition planned to keep you from missing the fullness.

There is more freedom here, at least where volume is concerned, and when your moan bounces off the tile it is music to Marcus's ears. The utterly satisfying fullness of having him inside you is indescribable, even if you have tried to find the words several times talking to Syd. Sharp, powerful strokes will work you both up to your peak quickly, letting you enjoy the water that burns as hot as your skin as he pounds into you.

Marcus has learned that going harder is needed sometimes. It’s something that both of you enjoy and lose yourselves in, always making sure that you are still with him with filthy sweet praises in your ear. “My perfect princess.” He groans. “Taking me so well.”

It’s so much filthier coming from such a sweet, unassuming man like Marcus, and he presses you into the wall with a firmness that leaves absolutely no room for questioning. You are his. He is yours. And anything you moan to each other in the throes of passion is fair game. Filth, praise, and everything in between is welcome as your hips slap against your ass and your throat strangled around the endless cries of pleasure.

It’s never been this good. It’s cliched to even think it, but it’s true. He can barely even breathe when you are surrounding him. Drowning in you happily. “Fuck, I love you.” He promises. His hands squeeze and caress before sinking back between your thighs to rub your clit while he continues to fuck you at a frantic pace.

“Love you so — fuck! — so fucking much.” You practically claw at the wall of the shower when the calloused pads of his fingers find your swollen clit and press in on tight circles. Perfect little circles. “So close baby, so fucking close.”

“That’s it.” He groans. “Want you to cum. Want you to soak me. Need it.” He dips his hips lower and changes the angle that he shreds up inside you.

“Fuck—fuck—can’t wait until you’re fucking me full of your babies, oh god—” He’s already an expert at tearing you apart and putting you back together, and this time will be no exception. Your legs shake with it and your belly tightens, coiling at the base of your spine tightening as pleasure rips through you.

“That’s it, fuck, so good, Princess.” He hisses in pleasure. “Cum for me. Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock. I love it.” It only takes two or three more sharp snaps of his hips before you’re calling his name, sure that if anyone else is in the house right now they can definitely hear you but too overcome with pleasure and too full of him to care.

When you cum, it’s like your entire soul melt with his. Your heartbeats align and for a split second, Marcus can’t tell where you end and he begins. Perfectly fused together in ecstasy. As soon as you tighten around him, his thrusts ease, still moving but helping you float down from the precipice. “Good girl, fuck baby, you are so good to me.” He pants in your ear. “So good. Giving me everything, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, I can feel it.”

“Fill me up, baby.” Your legs may be rubber at this point but that sensation of his cum painting your inner walls is worth holding out for. It has you rocking your hips back even more than you need to ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm, hoping to bring him to his.

He loves when you say that. Groaning your name as his pace picks back up. The slap of his hips not quite as sharp, but insistent. “Gonna, fuck baby, gonna fill you up.” He moans in your ear. “Drip me all night.”

From the way his hips start to stutter you know he’s close, and you grind back against him with a low moan. “Gonna be dripping your cum while I meet all your friends.”

“Just the way I want you.” He groans, kissing your shoulder and moaning as he pushes deep, throbbing inside you as he fills you up.

There’s nothing but the sound of running water and panting breath for a minute or two as you both collect yourselves, arms wrapped around each other in the best way you can manage while he’s still inside you and you’re leaning on the shower wall. “I love you so fucking much.” You murmur, giggling softly at the giddy feeling still coursing through your veins.

“I love you too.” He whispers, smiling against your shoulder as the soft aftershocks continue to squeeze him as he softens inside you. “Addicted to everything about you.”

“Glad we agree about that.” It isn’t elegant but you twist around and manage to place a kiss on his jaw. “So…breeding kink, huh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles sheepishly as he slowly pulls out of you. “Sorry. I know that took you by surprise.”

“Not in a bad way.” You promise him, fully turning around now, to put your arms around him before you both have to clean up. “Surprising but…potentially shared?”

“When it actually happens is still one hundred percent up to you.” He assures you, wanting you to know he would never pressure you, no matter how much he dreams about the future. “But shared, huh?”

“Surprise,” you tease, reaching for a washcloth.

“Every day is an adventure with you.” He chuckles and steals another kiss before he turns his attention to getting ready for tonight.

You’re right on time despite taking an overlong shower, arriving at the club in downtown Dallas in time to see a group of his old friends gathered at the bar.

“Hey.” A carefree grin lights up his face, reunited with old friends and their spouses. The band is about to leave to get on stage so it’s quick backslaps and promises to catch up later after he introduces you proudly. They disappear and it seems like all the other crowd around you to all talk about Marcus.

It’s much the same as it was with his cousins. Quick questions about you — or the occasional “That’s why I recognize you!” — but mostly wanting to tell stories about young Marcus in the olden days, teasing their old friend and gauging your reaction to their stories to decide if you’re good enough for him. You don’t mind of course. Your friends would have done the same if they hadn’t already met Marcus before you got together.

“Hey now.” Marcus pouts and protests but it’s all in good fun. He’s enjoying the stories; taking him back down memory lane. He hugs you tighter to him as he laughs at a college age story, where he had imbibed a little too much and made a fool of himself.

“Everyone got drunk and dumb in college at least once, didn’t they?” You hug his side and grin at him while his friends tease and chatter. “And I’m sure you weren’t the only college student in the world to skateboard across campus in boxers and a cowboy hat. I’m just impressed you didn’t fall off the board more if you were drunk.”

“Hammered.” He confirms with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know if I would have felt anything that night.”

“All the better that you didn’t get hurt then,” you laugh with him, enjoying these glimpses into the Marcus of the past. “Though I think we should recreate the look. For posterity.”

“Bachelor party.” He grins, leaning in and kissing you on the nose. “One of those boring co-ed ones where the couple is disgusting and can’t be apart for even one night of debauchery.”

“Cause we’re gross in love.” The smile on your face is blinding, lighting you up from the inside out as you beam at him.

“Yes we are.” He agrees, unable to stop himself from kissing you again, as his friends groan playfully around you both.

“Yeah, yeah.” Marcus’s old college roommate huffs good naturedly and rolls his eyes. This is the guy Marcus had lived with before he moved off campus to live with Lara and he’s always known Marcus Pike to be exceptionally lucky in love. “Lucky bastard.”

“I am.” He agrees with a small nod. “I’m honestly surprised that you aren’t already engaged.” One of his closest college study partners snickers as she shoots you a grin. “He always was rushing into things headfirst.”

“Don’t think he didn’t give me a ring right away,” you joke, holding up the shimmering promise ring on your hand. “But we want to keep our heads on straight, so it’s a promise for now and an engagement a little bit into the future.”

“There’s the Marcus we know and love.” She giggles, taking your hand and admiring the ring. “Honey, it’s gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?” The little heart-shaped diamonds wink and shine in the dim lighting of the club and you can’t help but smile proudly. “I told him he set a dangerous precedent with this one. If the promise ring is this beautiful then the engagement ring has to be, too.”

“Knowing Marcus, it’s perfectly designed to set with your promise ring.” She guesses, grinning wildly when he shuffles guiltily. “I knew it!” She throws her arm around his shoulder and smacks a playful kiss on his cheek. “Atta boy!”

“You did not buy it already!” You gasp in shock, giggling with unrestrained joy at the embarrassment and glee on his face.

“It’s safe.” He promises, shrugging slightly. “I didn’t want to risk them not having the perfect mate when I came back.”

“You’re incorrigibly sweet.” The idea that he’d gone so out of his way makes you melt on the spot, with warmth in your cheeks and a fluttering extra beat of your heart. “And I love you.”

His group of friends cheers when you kiss this time. For all the shit they give him, they are all thrill Marcus has found his sweet soulmate. Right then, the lights dim and everyone turns towards the stage. “Marcus Pike.” His eyes widen when the lead singer says his name. “Report to the stage. There is a bass waiting to be played.”

“Oh fuck yes!” When you squeal with absolute pure excitement you grab his side and practically cackle with glee. Even Agent Bailey is smirking in her plain clothes. “Go, baby! Go!”

“Oh my Gooooood.” Marcus groans as he’s practically shoved towards the stage and he shakes his head, pointing his finger at the band. “I hate you guys.” He moans, even as he shuffles closer, but they just grin.

“Best night ever!” You call back, grinning from ear to ear as you make your way to the front with his friends.

“This is going to be amazing.” Hooking her arm through yours, Stephanie grins at you. “Have you ever heard Marcus sing?”

“No.” And you pout about it for about two seconds before the glint returns to your eyes. “He always demurs and says he’s not that great but I know he’s being humble.”

Marcus shrugs out of his leather jacket and winds the strap of the bass around his neck and back to quickly strum a chord before adjusting the tension to his liking. “I’m going to hurt all of you.” He huffs, even if he’s grinning out at you.

“You fucking love us.” The lead singer, his old friend Leo, reminds him with a shit-eating grin.

Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs, not even able to deny it. “Which songs are we doing?” He asks instead.

“Set list is next to your pedal,” Leo tells him, grin only growing bolder when Marcus doesn’t deny anything. He knows his old friend misses playing. They’ve talked about it. Hence this silly little stunt. “Just like riding a bike, right Pike?”

He snorts and looks out at the crowd, his eyes automatically finding you and he smiles. “Yeah.” He scoffs. “If riding a bike means embarrassing the shit out of yourself in front of your soulmate.”

“It absolutely fucking does, dude.” Leo laughs, slapping Marcus on the back before he steps up to the mic to hype up the already excited crowd.

Marcus winks at you from the stage and looks at the lineup. Most of them are songs that they performed when he was in the band and quite a few that he knows Leo knows he knows. Apparently this wasn’t just a last minute deal. As Leo introduces the band, Marcus starts the bass chords for the first song.

It’s not the night you were planning — swaying to the music with Marcus with a cold beer in your hand while his friends played. This is infinitely better. Marcus is in his element up on that stage, showing off and playing to the crowd and making sure he finds your eyes every so often. Surrounded by friends and an enthusiastic audience, you could see Marcus enjoying many more nights like this. It makes you all the more glad that his friends decided to surprise him.

The crowd is a mix of older and younger people, the songs favorites and he enjoys the energy of the people singing along. Finally finished and sweating, in desperate need of a beer, he grins when you clap and yell.

"You are absolutely incredible." The second he hops down off the stage; you're practically jumping into his arms to give him a kiss. "And I never, ever want to hear anything about your singing voice again. That might be the sexiest singing ever."

He laughs, catching you easily and spinning you around. “Think you might be a little biased, Princess.” He teases, feeling euphoric and like he could do anything tonight.

"So?" The giggle that bubbles out of you is nothing short of adrenaline-infused joy. "I'm still right."

“Shit.” The laughter is infectious and he joins you. “I need a beer.” He admits, squeezing you close.

"Allow me." You insist, and when he makes a face you hold up a hand, still grinning. "Groupie's privilege."

“Groupie, huh?” He chuckles again and slides his hand down to your ass. “You have someone in mind?”

"Yeah," you poke his side and laugh, wiggling the fingers of your other hand in his face. "The one wearing the ring."

“Ring?” He glances at your hand and smirks. “That’s a pretty ring baby, but I could do better.” He flirts. “Dump that guy and run away with me. I’ve gotta sweet van and I know how to treat a lady.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"You think you can do better for me than my soulmate?" Batting your eyelashes back at him and half playing along, you tug Marcus toward the bar to get him his drink. "He's pretty amazing."

“I know I can.” He snorts, grinning at your playful banter. “You’ve never been with a musician baby.”

"Hmmm." An amused hum barely smothers your grin and laughter. "I have heard that bassists are experts with their fingering."

“Then you know.” He nods as you both slide up to the bar and Marcus orders a draft. He turns back to you. “My fingers are magic, baby.” He promises. “I can take you to the stars.”

It's too hard for you not to giggle at that, leaning into his side there at the bar. "I did know that already, though."

He breaks the character he was putting on and winks at you. “I was merely playing my favorite instrument.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Your pussy.”

"Marcus." Your tone is very false in its admonishment, and you're still grinning when you swat at his arm. "You can play her any time you like."

“Now?” He arches a brow in challenge.

You should have known he would jump on it, and you tilt your head at him with a wide-eyed expression. "I mean...not here but..." Glancing around the room proves that there is little cover to be found, and you bite your lip. "Bathroom?"

Marcus smirks and nods to the bartender when he sets his drink down. “Come on.” He takes your hand and drags you away, unable to even drink his beer in his haste to make you cum.

Practically able to feel the heaviness of Agent Bailey's eyes tracking you across the club, you can't bring yourself to care. Not when the promise of his hands on you is so close you can already feel it.

Normally, Marcus would never do this. Not now. But somehow, being with his own friends and playing, seems to have tapped into the wilder side he had exposed when he was younger. Not thinking like an FBI agent at this moment.

The club has two single-occupant bathrooms in a back hallway, and Marcus shoves open the door to the nearest one to tug you inside. "Holy shit." You're giggling again, bubbling over with it. "We're so lucky Agent Bailey trusts you."

“Amazing what a background check and a security clearance will get you.” He jokes as he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He knows he can’t be in here too long with you, it would be rude, but he has to touch you right now. You are just adoring him too much.

It's almost too bad you wore jeans tonight, but you had wanted to keep that feeling of fullness after the shower and truth be told the denim inseam still managed to give you a little stimulation on the way out here tonight. Now Marcus pops the top button open with eager fingers and you whimper softly, biting back the sound so no one in the hall outside hears you.

“Gotta be quiet, Princess.” He coos, smirking at your already lust blown eyes. “Can’t let anyone know you’re fucking a musician in a bathroom, can you?”

You’ve never done anything like this before and he knows that, but with wide eyes and the shivering desire to obey, you nod your head and bite back a needy whine. His hand slides down your panties, finding you slick with new desire and the remnants of his cum covering your lips. He groans your name in your ear and immediately pushes two fingers deep inside you.

It takes effort not to cry out. Not to whimper or moan or keen his name at the sharp, sweet intrusion of two thick fingers deep in your pussy. The vaguely taboo tint of doing something sexual in a public place only makes it better — a surprising feeling that you’ll have to bite for later — and you bury your face in the crook of Marcus’s neck, knowing that it will muffle the little bit of sound that you simply can’t swallow in your own throat. He doesn’t draw it out, doesn’t tease you. Just pumping his fingers deep and twisting his wrist to rub your clit as he tries to see how fast he can make you cum for him.

It’s like being sent up in a rocket, where all you can do is lean back against the sink in the little bathroom and hold on tight. He knows your body, knows how to make you see stars without breaking much of a sweat, and the adrenaline from playing on stage that’s still coursing through him keeps the pace of his fingers thrusting inside you at an almost punishing speed that feels amazing.

It’s like his playing a song with your body. The soft whimper echoing the timing of the beat of his fingers. Kissing along your neck as he pants against your skin. Already throbbing in his pants, but this is for you. “Good girl, baby. You’re so sweet for me.” He groans quietly.

There's not really much you're doing for him right now except keeping quiet and spreading your legs so he can dive inside you, but you'll fix that later. You'll lay him out on his bed and worship him for as long as he will let you. Right now your back arches and you have to let go of your white knuckle hold on the counter in order to tug him closer, pouring the moan that you want to let loose into a kiss instead.

He feels when you let go. Your moan muffled by your tongue as your walls soak his fingers in their pulsing grip. Feeling your heartbeat through the sensitive walls of your pussy. It’s so good and he loves that you are enjoying yourself as the bar music plays loudly.

"Fucking hell..." When you can finally breathe again you look up him with a hazy smile. "I'm gonna give you the best blow job of your life later on," you promise him with a grin.

He smirks as he pulls his wet fingers out of your fluttering cunt and holds them up to the dim light of the bathroom. They are shiny with your slick and he reaches out to your lips. “Open.” He orders.

That was not at all the response you were expecting, but somehow it far sexier because of that, and even though you've just cum you can feel your pussy fluttering at what he wants you to do. It only takes a second before you open your mouth, letting him put his fingers heavily on your tongue before you obediently clean them of any trace of your slick.

Marcus groans quietly, cock twitching in his pants and all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink to fuck you this time, but he can’t. You pop his fingers out of his mouth and he hisses at your innocent look. “Good girl.” His voice is raspy and dripping with lust.

"I feel like I should start calling you something." Leaning up, you steal a kiss and then rebutton your jeans so the two of you can wash up and go back out to his friends. "But I don't know if you wanted to be that kind of dom."

Marcus chuckles as he watches you in the mirror. “So you’re telling me you want a red room in our new house, hm?”

"I'm not gonna be mad about it if you want one," you answer innocently. "I just had the very intense urge to call you...'daddy' a second ago, but I didn't know if you'd like it. That's all."

Marcus has never been in a situation where someone would call him daddy so he has to think about it. “Only one way to find out.” He decides, patting you on the ass as you move out from the sink so he can wash his hands.

"I guess we'll give it a try later then." The air dryer in the bathroom is loud enough to drown out any other conversation, so you finish cleaning up and steal yet another kiss before dragging him back out into the club feeling like you're living on Cloud Nine.

Everyone in the group knows what happened when the two of you disappeared. At least to some degree. They might not believe that it was only an orgasm for you, but the grins are wide and Marcus snorts at the whistling and clapping from the guys. You brush it off with burning hot cheeks and a grin and go to get fresh drinks from the bar. Tonight has been pretty fucking perfect in every way you can think of. The best possible way to say goodbye for now to Texas, although you know you'll be back as often as you can be.

Marcus accepts this beer quickly, feeling parched and he winks at you before he takes a sip. “I think she might want me to find a band in D.C.” he teases.

"Oh, ya think?" Stephanie snorts, leaning into Leo's side when he comes over to join you at a high-top table.

"Actually..." Leo smirks, looking down at his soulmate before he glances up and around the group. "The guys know this already but...there was a big reason we were glad Pike showed up tonight." He tips his beer toward Marcus in salute. "Tonight was the last Dallas show we might ever play."

“Really?” Marcus frowns instantly, looking around to the group. “You guys are gonna stop playing?”

"We're moving in about a month." Leo announces. His arm winds around Stephanie proudly and he squeezes her tight to his side. "Steph got an amazing job at George Washington Hospital. So we're actually moving to DC."

“What?” Marcus sputters and starts beaming. “That’s great!”

"I'm really excited," she admits, smiling even bigger and brighter than Marcus is. "So maybe you won't have to find a new band after all."

“Well, we’d still have to find other members.” He look at the guys. “Until you come out to visit.”

"Maybe we'll all move East." Their drummer, Clark, jokes. He takes a sip of his whiskey and leans on the table. "Y'all know anyone that needs an electrician or a carpenter? I could be persuaded."

“We’re gonna be building a house.” Marcus snorts. “You’re hired.” He’s joking, because he would never make that decision without you, but it’s interesting to think about. Clark is the best damn carpenter he knows.

"Actually..." Tilting your head to look at Marcus beside you, you shrug your shoulders a little and have a sip of your drink. "There's some work that needs to get done at the inn, too. I've been putting it off because my electrician retired last year and finding a new guy is a pain."

His brows lift in surprise and Clark smirks. “Really, tell me about it.” He encourages.

"It's a historical property," you clarify right away, knowing that that scares some people off. Which is fine with you, really. If they aren't comfortable working on historical structures, you're not going to work with them anyway. "Of course things have been updated, but the structure is colonial so it does require a little bit of tender loving care."

“That’s awesome.” Clark snorts. “I love historic structures. Have you rewired the entire building or are you having to replace as you uncover issues?” He asks. “Code has changed so much since knob and tube. And that’s recent in a historic home, depending on how historic.”

"I've only owned the property for a few years, so we're having to play catch up from the previous owner." His enthusiasm is met with plenty of your own, and you look back at Marcus with a wide grin. "You just watch how fast I adopt all your friends. I was not exaggerating about that being what my family does."

Marcus laughs and leans back. “Adopt away, babe.” He encourages you. “You’ll get sick of them quickly.” He teases, laughing again when they all shoot him a finger.

Two days after touching back down in DC, the early morning meeting that you have with your mother and the communications staffer whose job it is to wrangle all things concerning the First Kids means that you’re up and moving before Marcus. You’re essentially having breakfast at the White House, which is less cozy than having coffee and muffins with your soulmate, but this meeting is important. You really do have things to talk to your mother about.

The staffers show you to the less formal dining rooms in the apartment, a rare time the president allows business to be conducted here, but it’s important that you feel comfortable.

The family dining room in the White House residence is still beautiful, and honestly you prefer it to the larger state dining room. The smaller and more casual room makes it easier to convince yourself that it’s just a normal breakfast with your mother today. Agent Bailey blends into the background here, noticeably more relaxed when she is around other agents and not working solo. It’s a good morning for both of you, and you move to the sideboard in the room to make yourself a cup of coffee while you wait for your mother to come in.

The communications staffer comes in and greets you warmly, laying out folders by the plates. “Your mother should be here in a few minutes. She was just in a briefing.”

“How are you, Annette?” The senior staffer that’s joining you is a woman that you’ve known for years. She was also on your mother’s staff in Pennsylvania and she is a good friend of the family after so many years working side by side.

“I’m doing well, how about you?” She asks politely and gives you a warm smile. “Your mother told me about your soulmate, I’m so thrilled for you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you.” There’s going to be a lot more talk about Marcus as this goes on if your mother and Annette accept your proposal, but for now you sip your coffee and smile. “The adjustment to DC hasn’t been too bad for you? Everything’s been okay?” A little small talk before your mother comes in and breakfast gets served is actually nice. With everyone being so busy you feel like there are people you haven’t gotten to talk to in ages.

“It’s always crazy, but we are adjusting well.” She smiles. “Brad isn’t too fond of the traffic, but who is?” She snorts. “I keep threatening to steal a diplomatic plate.” She jokes.

"I'll nab them for you," you promise her, sitting back with your coffee and smiling at the way your promise ring glints in the room's lighting. "They can't fire me from being First Daughter."

She laughs, knowing that you are completely joking but it would be funny to see the headlines. “I’ll expect one then.” She teases, picking up her own coffee to sip.

It takes a few more minutes before your mother comes in, but you and Annette sit and chat and pour second (or third, in your case) cups of coffee.

“I’m sorry, Birdie, Annette.” Your mother rushes over to drop a kiss on your head and throw her arms around her friend’s shoulders briefly. “That took longer than I expected.”

“Everything okay?” You’re wildly aware that there is plenty that your mother deals with that you do not have the security clearance to know about, but that isn’t what you’re asking. You’re asking if your mother herself is okay.

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “But I wish that people would stop trying to impress me with long winded reports going over every minute detail.” She huffs with a laugh. “My favorite briefing is from DIA Agent York. He gives me the bare bones information and it’s over in less than five minutes.”

“Would he consider it a blessing or a curse to be out on the State dinner guest lists in appreciation for his speedy briefings?” You ask, practically snorting a laugh at breakfast is served.

“Knowing the kind of man he is, a curse.” She snorts, appreciating your joke but also because she would never willingly let a man like Dave York around her family unless he was protecting them.

“Well, it’s nice to know that the chaos around here is just normal chaos.” The smile you offer your mother is fully understanding. The inn is your own beautiful area of normalized chaos.

“Of course. Thank you for coming.” She acknowledges that her life, her career isn’t the center of her children’s lives and she doesn’t take for granted when they make time for it outside the normal Friday night dinners. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mom.” An early morning meeting is a small sacrifice to make, especially when Marcus exhausted you last night trying out a sexy little card game you’d had stashed away since Syd’s bachelorette party a couple of years ago. It’s safe to say he liked the suggestions the game came up with. “There’s coffee, amazing food, and my favourite Mom, why wouldn’t I come? Although Marcus’s mother is pretty great. Solid second place in the Best Mom Ever competition.”

“I wanted to ask you how your week in Texas went.” She admits, pouring her own cup of coffee. It’s her third cup of the day so far, but she’s also been up since four.

“Honestly?” You pause when a staff member sets a plate of hot food in front of each of the three of you and a large platter of pastries and fruit in the center of the table. The chorus of Thank you’s is in unison. “It was fantastic. His parents are great, I got along pretty well with most of his cousins, and even met a bunch of his friends from college. It was…” you grin at The admission forming on your lips. “It was really wonderful. His parents are planning on coming up to visit us here this summer.”

“That’s wonderful.” Your mother lights up and she nods. “We will have to have a family dinner.” She suggests. “Here? Personal tour of the White House? Do you think that would be something they would enjoy? I know his father would probably enjoy a game while he’s here as well.”

“Marcus has season tickets to the Nationals so we’re definitely planning on seeing a game.” The omelets that have been set out in front of you are steaming and you dig in to your plate without hesitation. “I was going to ask you about a tour for them so thank you for jumping on that. And I know they would love to meet you guys. A family dinner would be really great.”

“Marcus is wonderful and I can guarantee that it’s a reflection of his parents.” Your mother hums. “And as your soulmate, I think it’s important that everyone meets and gets along.”

“I know his parents already said they wouldn’t be offended if you were too busy, but I do want you guys to meet.” Donna and Matthew Pike had sworn that they would completely understand if they didn’t see hide or hair of your parents during the trip, but that hadn’t sat well with you. Your parents have always made time for the important things in their kids’ lives no matter how busy they were.

“Absolutely not.” Your mother sounds offended by the idea. “There is no reason, barring a world catastrophe, where we should meet his parents at your engagement party or some other event. “No, if they want to have something low key, we don’t have to meet here. But I am eager to meet them.” She shoots you a grin. “Diplomacy can wait for one evening.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t pass up the chance to have dinner at the White House.” The grin you send your mother is beaming and appreciative. “That’s a bragging right not everyone gets. There will be plenty of informal meals in the future.”

“Then I will try to make sure that the chef makes something that will measure up to the amazing food Sydney will be plying them with.” If it wouldn’t hurt your business, your mother would have hired her to be the White House chef in a heartbeat.

“I will carry that compliment back to her on a silver platter.” Now that all three of you are eating — devouring — your breakfasts, you don’t mind getting into things. Of course your mother doesn’t have all day for this meeting, but you expect to be sitting here with Annette for at least a little while. “So, before I put my two cents in, what kind of social media and press presence were you thinking you might wrangle me into?” You’re curious, after all. Since Junie has a clear passion and Alex is handsome and personable, whatever route they chose for you was bound to be a little different.

“Well, I was hoping that we could show how small businesses are vital for our economy.” Your mother looks over at Annette who is nodding. “You are a small business owner and you work with others as well.”

“Okay.” You nod, mumbling the word as you finish a bite of food. “So highlighting the small businesses we work with? Making visible visits to other small businesses? That kind of thing?”

“I know that you utilize some of the local merchants for your supplies.” Your mother nods. “Maybe some clips of you with them? We can do a voice over with the message we want to sent.”

“I’ll compile a list of who we have good relationships with and you let me know who you want to have footage of?” It’s a big plug for the businesses that you do actual work with, so you can’t imagine any of them objecting. “Patronizing your local small businesses is a message I’m happy to get behind.”

“Corporations have garnered too much power in the country.” Your mother agrees. “We need to find a balance between them and a simpler time where everyone shopped local.”

“Alright, that’s easy enough.” Although you’re sure that other complications will arise in time, agreeing to this plan is at least something you’re glad to do. “Anything else?”

A look is exchanged between Annette and your mother. A pause that should be concerning. “It’s about…your soulmate.” She begins.

“What about him?” You frown instantly, not liking the tone that has been chosen for this thought.

“I was hoping that you might sit for an interview.” Annette is the one who voices it. “For the Love is Love legislation that your mother is trying to get passed.

“Oh!” The hesitation in their voices is nothing to do with Marcus, really, and you relax measurably. “Yes. We can definitely do that. And actually?” Looking between your mother and Annette, wondering what they’ll think of this idea coming from you of all people. “I think I can do you one bigger than that.”

“What do you have in mind, young lady?” Your mother almost smirks at the idea that you are suggesting something.

“I know I’m not the kid you expect this from.” The look on her face says that loud and clear and you completely understand why. “But Marcus and I talked it over, and we thought we would see what you thought about a First Family love story. From engagement to wedding to building a house.”

As a career politician, it’s been a rare time where your mother has been speechless, but she just gapes at you, her mouth slightly ajar in shock. “I— are you sure?”

"I mean we're not offering to have a White House photographer follow us around every second of every day, but we know that things are going to get said about us no matter what. Our family are public figures, and Marcus grew up with a father in the spotlight. We figured that getting ahead of the narrative and giving people honest glances into who we are was a hell of a lot better than people just speculating wildly."

“That is an amazingly gracious idea.” She can understand that you are going out on a huge limb and that is so appreciated. “Are you sure you would be comfortable with that scope?”

"We've talked through it," you tell her, knowing that it's probably unbelievable for her to hear this coming from you. "And I'm more confident when I have Marcus with me. I feel better able to handle the extra sets of eyes on my life. So...I thought it made sense not to waste that."

“I think that would be incredible.” She reaches out for your hand. “Only what you will give us though. No more.” Your father had reminded her right before leaving for her briefing that you are her daughter and probably the most private out of the three children. You don’t crave the spotlight at all.

"Marcus thought we could start with the engagement," you tell her, knowing that this is a big leap for you and trying not to be nervous about it. "But I think I should put something on my social media about him being my soulmate first. Maybe some photos from a date with a small announcement?"

“It will mitigate any issues that might spring up.” She doesn’t mention how there has been chatter about the congressman being unhappy about the demise of your relationship. That’s not your concern.

"Our favorite restaurant is family-owned, and we can pick something to do afterward that is still small business or community oriented." That shouldn't be too awfully hard, considering the DC area is always crawling with choices for things to do. You're spoiled for it, really.

“Whatever you think would be best.” She smiles at you. “While I would normally have one million ideas, I think it’s better if this is organically from you.”

“I know Marcus already has my engagement ring hidden away somewhere.” A fact which makes your cheeks burn and your smile turn a little dopey. “But I don’t know anything else as far as that goes. Is it okay if I give him your email so he can touch base with you, Annette?”

“Absolutely!” Annette agrees immediately, while your mother looks impressed that your soulmate has already bought your engagement ring. More importantly is your reaction to that information, you look dreamy eyed and she couldn’t be more happy for you. “I must applaud Marcus for thinking ahead.” Your mother hums, taking a small sip of her coffee to hide her smile.

“We’re both thinking ahead.” A fact which gives you no end of pleasure. The flight back from Dallas had been spent in dreams and future plans, cuddled together looking out the window and making up a list of big and small things you wanted for your future together. “We’re starting to plot out what we want for our house, too. That’s the timeline that’s going to take the longest.”

“Your house?” You had mentioned it before, but your mother ticks her head to the side curiously.

“We’re going to build,” you explain, reaching for a scone from the plate of pastries on the table. “Since the land that the inn is on is more than enough and I own all of it, we’re going to use a portion at the back of the acreage to build a house.”

“That sounds like an adventure.” She’s always known you enjoy doing things your way and it’s refreshing to see that apparently your soulmate understands how much of your being is invested in the inn.

“It’s going to feel like a mansion after sharing my apartment in the inn.” After a little discussion, Marcus had decided that he would rather share the smaller space with you while the house is being built and sublet his current place to Clark — ensuring that his friend can have the new start in DC that he wants. “But we’re excited. It’s a whole lot of planning and big steps forward all at once, and for once I really have a partner who’s on the same page as me.”

“That’s the most important thing.” She knows this from experience. There is absolutely no way she would be the current president if your father hadn’t been on the same page as her as far was what their lives might look like. It’s something she’s always wanted for all of you.

“So…I know it’s more than you were going to ask of me.” Which you appreciate. Your mother recognizing and honoring your boundaries is something she had to work on a lot when you were in your teens and twenties. You look at up her and crack a small, bashful grin. “But it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity for something as uplifting and positive as a White House wedding.”

“A White House wedding?” Your mother’s gasp is surprised, honestly believing you would never even entertain an idea like that. “Are you- you’re joking right? It’s not April Fools Day. That was days ago.”

“I am not joking.” Although you can definitely see why she would be shocked. This is not a decision that you made quickly or easily — or alone. “But I do have an ulterior motive,” you admit, wanting there to be full transparency. “I am hoping that a super-secure and publicly documented White House wedding is a trade off for letting us go on our honeymoon alone.”

She doesn’t even glance at Annette. “Absolutely.” Your mother immediately insists. “There is no way I would want any kind of publicity for your honeymoon. You don’t even have to negotiate for that.” It’s honestly alarming that you think she might want you to do something for her political career on your honeymoon.

“Oh, that isn’t what I meant,” you clarify immediately, seeing naked distress in your mother’s face when she’s normally so good at staying neutral. “I meant…without my Secret Service detail. Give Agent Bailey and Agent Sisson a few weeks off while we go overseas. Marcus is very well trained and definitely enough to keep just two of us safe.”

Her expression eases slightly, relieved that’s not what you are talking about and she nods. “I think that will be entirely appropriate.”

“I’m optimistic that we can make sure this works for everyone.” Sitting in your seat in the family dining room, you lean back with a little extra confidence — bolstered by the fact that you know Marcus is with you every step of the way, just like your family. “Make this happy, and exciting, and something to look forward to.”

“Whatever you want.” Your mother agrees. “Whenever you want.” She adds. “I don’t want you pushing up plans for us, sweetheart.”

“We said we wanted to get started on the house before we get engaged,” you tell your mother, though you have to appreciate her insistence here. Plenty of other parents would hack the timeline if they were in her shoes. “So it will depend on how quickly we start in on those plans.”

“And Marcus wants to stay at the inn while you build?” She asks, lifting a brow in surprise. While she has seen your little apartment and thinks that it’s darling, Sam had always insisted it was too small to share space for even more than a day.

“We talked it through and he feels like it’s more important for me to be close to the inn than for his commute to be shorter. He’s going to sublet his current place to a friend that wants to move up from Texas and then the friend can take over the lease when it comes up. We’ll have a little less space than we would if we stayed in his apartment, but we don’t mind close quarters.” A fact which you will not look bashful about right now…no not at all…

“That’s a very solid plan that you have laid out.” Annette compliments. “It seems like you and your soulmate have made a lot of plans.”

“Right now I’d call it our favorite hobby.” Second favorite, but you’re not talking about your sex life in front of your mother…

The president snorts and rolls her eyes as she reaches for another scoop of fruit. “Sure.”

“Anyway.” Forcibly getting the conversation back on track seems like a smart idea. “Annette is my point person, then?”

“Yes.” Your mother takes the hint with a small smile. “I reasoned you would be more comfortable with her than any of the new staff.”

“And I appreciate that.” You offer both your mother and Annette a grateful smile. “Especially since this is going to involve my soulmate, I’m very glad to have someone that I know and trust working with us.”

“I am eager to meet him.” She hadn’t been present at the state dinner, she had been sick, but from what she can tell she will like him.

“Why don’t you come by the inn and have dinner with us sometime in the next week or two?” You suggest, figuring that would be nicer than a formal sit up in an imposing setting. “Something casual for the first time you meet? So we can all relax a little.”

“That sounds perfect.” Annette knows the value of an informal meeting. It often creates a better mood for the entire interaction.

"Awesome." Having everything moving in a comfortable direction is as much as you could ask from this meeting, and it's nice to see your mother semi-relaxed at the start of a workday. "Well, I'm sure you have eighty-seven things to do today Mom, so I won't keep you."

She winces apologetically and looks at her watch. “I’m actually about three minutes late for a cabinet meeting.” She admits, standing up to move over and kiss your forehead again. “Are you and Marcus coming to dinner on Friday?”

"We'll be there with bells on," you promise her. "Go get to your meeting. I love you, and tell Dad I love him too."

“I will, sweetheart.” She promises. “Annette, I will see you later. Take your time finishing breakfast.”

The unfortunate truth is that the dinner with Annette might be necessary sooner rather than later. Within a bare twenty-four hours of the White House Easter Egg Roll and the official photos that refer to Marcus Pike as your soulmate, the commentary on social media and in online tabloids begins.

Marcus frowns as he opens the new story. It’s not uncommon for articles to be inflammatory, he knows that from the state dinner, but this is all but calling you a cheating liar. “Fuck.” He growls, eyes narrowing on the wording from the ‘anonymous source’.

"What's wrong?" Your nose is stuck in the schedule for next week while dinner is in the oven and you sit with Marcus in the living room, but you glance up when he sounds unhappy.

Marcus sighs and turns his phone towards you so you can read the headline. “I hate to accuse anyone, but this fucking sounds like your favorite congressman ex.”

"Sounds more like your ex, if you ask me." Vanessa might look sweet and innocent, but she can be cutthroat and single-minded in her goals when she sets herself to it. Something she learned from her justice father. "Think they're getting their jollies going after us together?"

“Shit- you think?” He ended things on a good note with Vanessa. Actually, she broke up with him, why would she smear his name?

"I don't know what her motive would be besides trying to get under Sam, but I wouldn't be surprised by it." Leaning forward to read the beginning of the article on his phone, you still frown. "I knew somebody was going to try saying we cheated, but damn."

“We know the truth.” Marcus frowns as he rereads the article. “This seems to imply that we are lying about being soulmates.” He looks over to you with a small grin. “That’s proven easily enough.”

"Hmm." That does make you smile, and you look up at him from behind your laptop. "Are you thinking we should stage a little photo on my social media as a response?"

“Absolutely.” He’s not thrilled about the tattoo you both share, but it’s solid evidence of your connection. “Your reputation won’t even tarnish a little.”

"I'm sure I'll get some snide comments about the kind of tattoo we share, but that's on me." You shrug at the truth of it. "I definitely should have gotten it somewhere else."

He laughs and shrugs. “Doesn’t make a difference now.” He reminds you. “It’s on both of our skin, so it’s proof. You’ve had it for years and so have I. Should we post new pictures and old ones with the tattoos?”

"We can do a little album on my Instagram." The suggestion is a welcome one, but it does mean you push your laptop away and set it on the coffee table to snuggle a little closer to him. "You have old photos with the tattoo in them?"

“I do.” Marcus chuckles. “But….” He shrugs. “They were taken by my ex-wife. She’s not in them.” He assures you.

“That’s fine.” Frankly, if Lara gets involved in the conversation it will just reinforce the fact that Marcus has had your marks for a very long time. “I can bribe Agent Sisson to be our photographer for a photo that has both of us in it.”

“And how do we want to casually set up pictures of our lower backs?” He asks with a grin.

“There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing.” You tuck yourself into his side and grin. “This is answering a call out.”

“To address any unfounded and untrue rumors….” He captions with a snort. “Straightforward. I like it.”

"If we wanted to do this casually, I would just say we should go take some pool pictures." You glance up at him, seeing what he thinks of that. "Violating my mom's no bikini rule for a good cause."

“I like bikini’s.” He agrees immediately, his eyes darkening slightly with lust.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk on your face is nearly instant. "Like we should take a tropical vacation level of like?"

“Like you need to book one immediately.” He huffs. “Texas didn’t count as a vacation.”

"Of course it did!" The fact that he's getting all bent out of shape imagining you in a bikini when he sees you naked on a daily basis is adorably, quite frankly. "And you can't even claim it wasn't sexy. We nearly broke that bed."

“Of course we did.” He laughs. “It’s old and we are horny.” He teases, biting his lip as he pulls you close. “But in a bikini, it’s so much less clothing to take off you.”

"You wouldn't even have to take it off." He's getting ideas and you turn your face up to smirk at him, fully encouraging those ideas to take form. "Just shove it aside. Nothing else needed."

“Fuck.” He hisses, clenching his jaw and imagining fucking you on a beach somewhere.

"Gonna keep that imagine in the spank bank, babe?" You can't help but tease him a little, knowing that you would be reacting exactly the same way if it was Marcus teasing you. But you started it this time so you get to tease.

“Fuck yes, I am.” He snorts. “We would get arrested. But it would be worth it.”

"There's a private beach where we could get away with it somewhere." Leaning up to press a kiss to Marcus's cheek, you're still grinning. "Good to know it's on the fantasy list, though."

“Very high up there.” Marcus admits with no shame. Just the freedom to explore these ideas with you is amazing, even if they are never acted on.

"I think..." The only thing that keeps you from shifting into his lap is the kitchen timer going off from the oven. Instead of climbing on to him you just climb off the couch to get to the baked pasta you put together right before Marcus got home from work. "That maybe we should do half the honeymoon in Paris and the other half on the Riviera? Get some swimsuit time in?"

“I like the way you think.” Marcus chuckles quietly, nodding. “How long are we talking? A few days in each place? A week?”

"A week each?" You pull him up from the couch to come to the kitchen with you. There's still a table to set and wine to pour, and all that good stuff. "Two weeks in France sounds like magic."

“I agree.” He grins and grabs the bottle of wine you had set out. It’s become a routine to have a glass with dinner and he enjoys the selection the inn has, although it annoys you that he insists on paying you for the wine.

"A big, beautiful wedding. Two weeks in Paris. A lovely house for us to move into." Every time you think through the plans you're starting to make for the future, they sound better and better.

“That sounds perfect to me.” Marcus admits, smiling softly at the idea. “Have you thought about the style ideas I sent you?”

"I was showing your Pinterest board to Syd on our lunch today." The collection of Dutch Colonial, Queen Anne, Georgian, and Federal style houses that Marcus had put together to share with you is full of so many ideas that you had lost track of time in the kitchen and was almost late to interview a new member of the housekeeping staff. "She likes the Queen Anne style Victorians, of course."

“Of course she does.” Marcus grins as he lifts a brow. “Which one of those were you most interested in?” He doesn’t really mind what architectural style your home is in, as long as you are happy with the result.

Having decided that the edge of the property where you planned to build was far enough from the inn and her out buildings that you didn’t need to be loyal to the colonial structures, you have a little more freedom to choose what you build. “I think I like the Georgian houses you sent me best,” you tell him, setting down two plates of baked pasta in the table at your customary seats. “It complements the colonial style without being obsessive about matching, and it’s not overly complicated.”

“That’s a good choice, and it still fits with the overall theme of the property.” Marcus agrees. “However…one thing I think is a must in our new house.”

“What’s that?” The two of you settle down and pick up your forks, comfortable in the relative quiet of the apartment while Agent Bailey takes one of her occasional walks around the grounds.

“We have to have an elevator in our house.” He’s gotten used to the elevator at the inn and can’t imagine living without one now.

“Non-negotiable?” You tease, knowing that on the nights he goes to the gym after work he groans his way into the apartment on principle. “Noted. You will have your elevator.”

“Thank God.” He dramatically moans and tosses his head back. “Getting older sucks. You’ll see.” He teases about the age gap, but it’s only seven years. “Heartburn is about to start.”

“I was more thinking of our kids,” you admit quietly, poking your fork into a big bite of sausage and zucchini and pasta together. “What if one of them needs the house to be accessible?”

“That thought had crossed my mind.” Marcus agrees. “But we will pray that all our children will be healthy, prepare in case they are not.”

“No matter what, they’ll be cared for and loved.” That, at least, you can both guarantee.

“Plus it will be easier when someone undoubtably breaks a leg.” Marcus snorts, laughing slightly. “It seemed like it was a contest in my family who would break a bone first every year.”

“Kids are gonna be clumsy,” you joke, pointing your fork at him in teasing accusation. “Got it.”

“But they will make up for it with good looks and charm.” He grins back at you and winks.

First Princess Cheating Scandal is the headline splashed across the tabloid on the magazine rack, and your hand twitches before reaching for it. This is the bullshit you absolutely hate about being in the public eye, and now that they’ve started coming for Marcus you hate it even more. The article inside claims that you faked your matching marks — including your scars, which is possible but extremely far fetched — and that you’ve been sleeping together since at least the night of the State dinner.

With another one of those dinners on the horizon and the weariness in your bones over now spending multiple weeks of time on this stupid non-issue, you pay for the magazine and continue on to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building with it shoved in your purse. Agent Bailey’s advice had been to let it roll off your shoulders because people are always going to gossip, but as much as you’d like to do that it’s possible this might affect your mother’s image. Or your business. Your previously fully booked inn has had multiple cancelled reservations since this whole thing started.

So you walk on, with the little treats you made in a container in your purse and Marcus’s favorite midafternoon coffee order from the shop around the corner to surprise him at the office.

Marcus is pouring over a case when you knock on his office door. He doesn’t keep it closed, preferring to let his team come to him whenever. To feel like they can. Looking up, he sees you and immediately smiles. “Birdie.” He almost said Princess, but since the beginning of this entire ‘scandal’ non-scandal thing, it’s kind of soured the nickname. Immediately abandoning the file, he stands up and rushes around to give you a kiss. “This is a welcomed surprise.”

“I did a little baking with Syd this afternoon and the results were so good that I couldn’t wait to share.” The kiss is a comforting balm, even if it’s short, and you hold up the cup in your left hand. “And I brought your coffee.”

He groans in appreciation, of both the baked goods and the caffeine. “I was just about to get another cup from the break room, but this is better. His hand slides around your back and he rubs it soothingly, seeing the pinch of upset around your eyes but he wants you to talk to him naturally. “Want to come inside? Share it with me?”

You nod and step inside, your own cup from the coffeeshop clutched in your other hand. It’s herbal tea, though. Caffeine didn’t seem like a good idea when you’re already anxious. “Agent Bailey is in the bullpen, I hope you don’t mind.” Now that you’re in a relationship with a well-trained and fully competent federal agent, your Secret Service detail tends to be a bit more relaxed about giving you space.

“Not at all.” Marcus insists, guiding you over to the little couch in his office. “Rodriguez will show her where the donuts are.” He snickers.

“So…” he sits down beside you and you pull a small container of Madeleines out of your oversized purse to offer to him, but the magazine is sitting just underneath and it makes your eyebrows pinch together all over again. “We walked past a news stand on the way here and…saw a new headline.”

“Oh no.” Marcus sighs, he takes the container but sets them aside to give you his full attention. “Bad?”

“Not great.” With a resigned sigh, you pull the magazine out of your bag and hand it over for Marcus to inspect. Under the headline is the now-famous shot of the two of you dancing together and the article inside includes a paparazzi shot of the two of you grocery shopping alongside one torn from your social media of a date night.

He winces at the headline and huffs, opens it, flipping to the article and skimming it. “I want to really get this ‘anonymous source’ into a fucking interrogation room.” He growls, growing more and more upset at the outright lies that are being insinuated. “But it’s fucking hard to be sleeping with you when security from Vanessa’s building has me showing up on a timestamped tape.”

“Agent Bailey was less than thrilled with the accusation that she would lie about anything out of loyalty. You might have to fight her for that interrogation.” Shaking your head as he puts down the magazine, you’re craving his warmth and security enough that you lean in on the couch beside him. “I had an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” you admit quietly.

“What is it?” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, wanting to protect you from all this. He feels guilty, like you would be better off if your connection hadn’t been acted on.

“It’s….a little dramatic.” You can admit that, too. Although at this point you feel like a dramatic response isn’t uncalled for.

It might be necessary, in Marcus’s opinion. He nods and hums while waiting for you to continue.

“How would you feel about having another tattoo?” The question is posed carefully, quietly, but you had been considering it all the way over and bandied it back and forth with Agent Bailey during your walk. While extreme, it would certainly put all doubts to rest to share a video of you getting a new tattoo and having it appear just seconds after being finished, fully formed on Marcus’s skin.

“No gang or face tattoos.” Marcus jokes, shrugging slightly. “I’ve got no problem if you want to get a tattoo, sweetheart.” He decides. “But I don’t want you to do that simply to prove that we are soulmates. We don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I know it’s not owed.” That thought had never even crossed your mind, actually. “But I want this put to rest and something small that we decide on together would be a nice mark to share under almost any circumstance.” Shrugging a little, you take a sip of your tea and sit back. “It’s just a thought. Obviously I’m not going to just go off and do this on my own. That’s the opposite of the point of it.”

“No, I’m not opposed to it.” Marcus protests softly. “I just want to make sure it’s not from a place of insecurity.”

“Even if we weren’t soulmates, I would think it was sweet to have matching tattoos,” you tell him honestly, savoring the quiet comfort of the moment when your mind was chaotic just a half hour ago.

“What kind are you thinking of?” He asks softly, smiling as you lean against him. He enjoys the warmth of moment. The quiet comfort of you with him.

“I haven’t come up with anything brilliant.” Or even anything original. You had mostly been waiting to talk to him about it. “But something small, that’s reasonably discreet? Behind the ear or on the ankle or something like that? Even the wrist, so you could cover it with your watch when you want. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“What about a little flower?” Marcus offers. “Behind the ear. I can cover that with my hair if I need to, and it can be your favorite bloom.”

“That sounds completely adorable.” The smile you have for him is beaming, feeling the way your heart bursts at his absolute acceptance and support. The love that radiates off him even in something as simple as knowing how much you love flowers.

“I thought you would like that.” He admits, tapping just behind your ear. “And you are so sensitive when I kiss right here. Especially when I’m inside you.”

“That’s mostly because you’re inside me.” Even though your cheeks burn with it and you slide down a little against his side, you’re still beaming at him. “If we’re going for things that enhance sensitivity then maybe I’ll have to look into piercings,” you tease.

“Don’t tease.” He pouts, twitching under the proper suit. “I can’t think about those kinds of things and be expected to work.”

“Oh, would you like if I had secret piercings?” You raise one eyebrow in interest, surprised to hear such an enthusiastic response to the passing idea.

“Piercings are hot.” Marcus would never deny that. “If you wanted to get some, I would support you completely. Enthusiastically.” He teases with a grin.

You hum at him, intrigued enough by the thought to actually heavily consider it, just imagining his face seeing them and how eager he would be to play with them. “That would be a very personal gift for my soulmate.”

Yes it would be. Marcus hums, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. “Personal is good.” He agrees, “but don’t feel like that’s something I have to have. If you want it, that’s one thing.”

"It's something to think about." It's no secret to him that you like things that mark you as his – your soulmate marks, of course, but your promise ring and occasionally wearing a piece of his clothing as well. Piercings might be something only he would see, but that just makes it all the more meaningful.

“Hmmmmmm.” He chuckles and nods his head. “It is. But I don’t think you came all the way down here to just fill my head with dirty thoughts.”

"I came down to surprise you with coffee and tell you that I love you." When he cocks his head slightly, you end up grinning. "I might have a little date night planned for you tonight. The caffeine has ulterior motives."

"Oh really?" He perks up, smiling slightly as he looks over at you in utter surprise. "So I need to make sure I'm home on time tonight?"

"Actually?" His delight is gratifying, and you squeeze his arm gently at your waist. "I'm taking you right from here. Our night is in the city."

"Kidnapping me, hmmm?" He grins widens and he bites his lip. "What does Agent Bailey think of such activities?"

"Oh, she helped me plan it." And she seemed to have fun with it, too, which made the little diversion even better. "Even made our dinner reservation for us."

"Wow." Marcus makes an impressed face. "That was a plot twist I didn't expect." he laughs. "Am I allowed to know any details or just show up and look pretty?"

"Just be your handsome self when I come back at five to pick you up." You stretch up to kiss his cheek, glad that he seems to be looking forward to tonight and hadn't been looking forward to just going home. "I'm going to scoot home, finish some paperwork, and get all dolled up for you."

"Bring me back an outfit?" Marcus asks, turning pleading eyes on you. "It can be another suit, I just want to freshen up too. Look my best."

"I'll bring something devastating but understated." That isn't hard considering Marcus's wardrobe is extremely well curated, but you still like to pay him the compliment as you pull yourself back to standing. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, babe."

He can’t help but grin a little more, your compliment making his shoulders lift confidently. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours in the office where there’s privacy, although he will walk you to the elevator.

"I love you." That is for the privacy of his office too, but only because it comes with such a doe-eyed look from you that it's nearly obscene.

“I love you too, Hummingbird.” He promises, the same sappy look in his eyes as he turns to guide you out of the office. His hand rests on your lower back, over the tattoo.

Unfortunately, no date night photos or other positive presence on your social media is enough to combat the now growing accusation and rumors surrounding your soulmate status. It's only two weeks after first presenting the idea to Marcus that you're both sitting in a tattoo studio with the artist that did a beautiful flower tattoo for Sydney's sister AnnaLeigh.

Marcus had asked Juan to come and film the entire thing, so it couldn’t be said that it was spliced together. Although he was sure that comment was coming. Some people couldn’t be pleased no matter what, they didn’t want to believe there was an innocent reason for them being together.

The simple design would not take long to ink into your skin, and the artist helped Juan set up two chairs so that both you and Marcus could be in the shot to capture the instant the finished tattoo appears on Marcus’s skin. The entire video would be shared on your social media, audio included, so you had had to work up the nerve to even just chat with Marcus on camera. Sharing another mark with him isn’t stressful at all, it’s letting the public so deeply into your personal life that is.

“I like the design.” Marcus sits down on the other side of you and takes your hand. “You should have let me do the tattoo this time.” He jokes. “I don’t know what it feels like.”

“We can switch if you want to?” You’re nervous, and he knows it. Not for getting the tattoo, but from everything that has been going on.

“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Whatever you want to do.” Marcus wouldn’t take this experience from you if you want it.

“It’s small,” the artist assures you, seeing anxiety in her clients. “And behind the ear doesn’t hurt very much for most people. I had one woman nearly fall asleep on the table because she liked the humming and the soft vibrations.”

Marcus can handle a little bit of pain. You know that. A tattoo is nothing compared to broken limbs or the incident when he was undercover and was shot — which had sent you in a flurry of cooing and coddling for about three days when he first told you about it. Tattooing is the kind of pain that some people find pleasurable, so you squeeze his hand and nod. “Why don’t you give it a shot? You might decide you like it and we’ll end up here all over again.”

“Is that alright with you?” Marcus asks the tattoo artist, knowing they might not appreciate a change of clientele.

“Fine with me.” She nods as she sets up her tray. “I have both of your information on file and believe it or not this happens a lot. Soulmates come in with a design they’ve chosen but they’ll change their mind at the last minute about which one of them will actually being sitting for it.”

Marcus chuckles and turns you both so he can sit down in the chair. “We’ll both be wearing it anyway.” He agrees. “So I don’t mind experiencing it.”

“I’ve never been shot but I guarantee it hurts less.” You move to let him sit in the artist’s chair and situate yourself by his side.

Marcus chuckles as the tattoo artists eyes widen. “I’m a federal agent.” He explains quietly. “It was just a flesh wound, but she thinks it’s impressive.”

“It is impressive!” And you’re just going to keep telling him so over and over until he caves, but right now you just throw a pout at him to make him laugh.

Marcus gives you the laugh and turns his head to the side, staring at you. “Still not as impressive as you are beautiful.” He murmurs softly, although the video picks it up.

“I love you, too.” The bashfulness in it is only because you weren’t expecting that kind of compliment right now — as the artist about to permanently ink Marcus’s skin is making sure she has everything she needs on her tray. You lean into his side and tip back your head, nothing but pure love in your eyes right before they slip shut at the brief press of your lips to his.

Marcus hums, an automatic sound that comes out of him when you kiss him. Excited that you are as free with your kisses as he is, it’s liberating to indulge whenever the urge strikes you. When you pull back, he grins. “Now I’m ready.”

"Go ahead and lean forward." Sitting down on her stool, the artist beckons Juan over with the camera for the best angle to watch the action and still have you in the shot. "And here goes nothing."

The first touch of the needle nearly makes Marcus jump. He barely resists the urge and then laughs quietly, trying not to move too much. “This is kind of ticklish.” He admits.

"Then it already hurts less than the one I got," you tease, glad that the experience isn't painful for him. Watching him giggle about it and knowing it's being filmed is downright endearing.

“I’m sorry.” Marcus apologizes, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. “I wish your experience was better.” He snorts after he says it. “Maybe not, or I might be covered in ink.”

"It wasn't bad, but it was definitely more than a tickle." The grin you shoot him, though, is knowing. "If you end up liking this so much tonight, we might be covered in ink because of you instead."

“Only areas that can be respectfully covered.” He teases you, sending you a wink as the artist continues to carefully work behind his ear.

"Sounds like a plan," you toss him a smirk in return and the set of you grow quiet after another round of low laughter, so the only sound in the room becomes the resilient buzz of the artist's needle.

Marcus could probably fall asleep if the noise didn’t vibrate in his head. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. “After this, we will have to go get that cream to keep it clean.”

"We can get a Tattoo Goo kit before we leave the shop." His hand is in yours and you squeeze it reassuringly. "It's going to be tender for a bit, but it won't take too long to heal."

“I’m sure you will be completely cuddly as I heal.” He snickers quietly.

"I think having a cuddly girlfriend is mandatory for the healing process," you tell him seriously. At this point you've completely forgotten Juan is here for any other reason besides moral support. Forgotten about the phone in his hands being a camera and the fact that this video will become public for the world to see. This is just a moment between you and your soulmate. And a sweet one, at that.

“You should have seen me when the scar from your appendix showed up.” He snorts. “I was upset that my soulmate was hurt.”

“We were kids.” Sure he’s older than you, but you were so young when you had appendicitis. “Did it really worry you that much?”

“Yeah.” Marcus admits, not ashamed of that in the least. “Not knowing what happened, I kept imagining horrible things. Waited for other scars to possibly show up for at least a week.”

“If you had scarred from your broken leg or when you hurt your shoulder, I probably would have felt the same way.” It’s less of an admission from you and more of a confirmation, telling him in no uncertain terms how much you have always cared about his well-being. “Which is still your gunshot wound is such a big deal.” One of your fingers digs into his arm playfully. “That scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, now if I get shot, you can baby me right away.” He teases. “And tell the plastic surgeon to make the scar invisible.”

"I don't mind wearing your scars." The thought comes out quieter than you mean for it to, holding Marcus's hand tightly in yours. "I'm proud of you. And proud to wear your marks, no matter how many of them there are."

“Hopefully not too many more.” He hopes, smiling at you. “But I’m proud to wear your marks too, Hummingbird.”

The session doesn’t last too much longer. Marcus has a high pain tolerance but the tattoo mainly just tickles him, making him grin and laugh as he chats with you and with the artist for the last few minutes. When she pronounces him done and stands back, there is a moment of silence before the permanence of the piece takes hold on him and transfers instantly to your skin.

A sharp intake of breath at the momentary pain is how you know it has happened, and you glance over at Marcus — and Juan with your phone — just absolutely beaming with happiness. “Does it look as good on me as it does on him?”

Marcus inspects the area, forgetting the camera is even on and recording. He leans in and presses a kiss to the tattoo. “It looks even better, Princess.” He promises with a smile.

______

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

[writingloveandaffection]

Imagine your f/o's thoughts jumping to you first when they want to do something with someone. It can be something as mundane as a grocery store trip. They want you there because your company makes them happy. It makes boring tasks just a little more bearable, because if you're there they can make you laugh, just as you make them. If it's somewhere fun or special, of course they'd want you there. What better way is there to have a good time than spending it with someone you care about? Maybe it's just watching that new show. They were going to watch it anyway, but maybe you might want to see it too. Or maybe you've already started it or even seen the whole thing. Still, they want you there. Because they love you and want to spend time together. Just being in each other's presence is enough. You dont even have to be doing something together. They just want to be near you. And they know they can go to you just as you could easily go to them.

#haha im alive #first post in how long idk #but thought of this and thought itd be sweet #of course post inconsistency will continue #but i hope you like this #f/o imagines #f/o imagine #f/o comfort #imagine f/o #f/o #platonic f/o #romantic f/o #imagine your f/o #imagine your fictional other #fictional other #gender neutral f/o #gender neutral s/i #self shipping imagines #self ship imagines

[torusangel]

My love, mine all mine | Gojo Satoru

Description: A boy who has everything, and a girl who only has her love.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of abuse (not by Toru), maybe more but this is what I got right now

A/N: Inspired by Mitski of course. I wrote this all in one sitting and I’m just posting this preview of it to gauge interest right now to see if I should continue this or not! I kinda want to change it but I also think it’s charming so why not just put it out there and see how it goes? This isn’t edited or proof read at all either so might be a mess lol

People told you often that you wore your heart on your sleeve. Never one to shy away from how you really felt, you floated through life leaving your emotions to run free. You laughed, cried, hurt, and loved. Maybe loved too much, too strongly, too powerfully because the love you gave away would end up growing so strong that it hurt you too. There were people in your life who gave you love as well, but you soon realized that people could take that love away. Leave you with only your love to give, nothing else was ever yours, their hearts too easily taken back, promises broken without the bat of an eye, their whispers washed away by the wind.

You wanted to protect your love. After all, love was all you had left. As a little girl fairy tales and stories of princesses with their perfect prince gave you imagination. You dreamed of such devotion, for someone to sweep you off your feet and make you feel like the most precious girl in the world. You held love close to your heart. It’s what made you strong, and yet so fragile. Love fluctuated like that. Some days it’d have the power of a raging storm, able to tear down anything in its path, and some days it’d be so weak and meager that it would break with the flick of a finger. It was inconsistent.

Ever since you were a child your mother was the one who so adamantly taught you about love. She’d tell you how love was the most important thing in life, how you should never give up on your love and to hold onto it and never let it go. How love was what kept you alive. To live without love wasn’t living at all, and the importance of giving love. You saw her crumble and break under life’s trials and tribulations, the way she’d fall when your father hit her. You saw her dance in the living room all alone to music you couldn’t hear and the way her smile grew when you said you’d give your love to her. Your mother through all her hardships still had so much love to give. Sometimes you wondered if the reason your father was so angry was because he knew he didn’t have all of her.

Satoru grew up with everything. Born into a prestigious family, money bought him whatever he desired. He was the definition of spoiled through and through. He never found it strange that his father was always gone and his mother refused to look at him. Everyone around him said he was so lucky, so that’s how he always thought. People admired him, and as he grew up he realized he could make anyone love him. Satoru knew he was handsome, paired with his wealth he found that was the key to make anyone he wanted fall for his charms. Gojo Satoru always got everything he wanted except you.

When he first met you it was at the cafe on campus. Something about the way you carried yourself drew him in. He saw you and the confidence you held, the beauty in your stride, and he knew he had to have you.

When he first approached you that day you thought he was strange. He’d asked you out without a care if you rejected him or not, you later realized it wasn’t that he didn’t care he just never knew rejection in the first place. He said he’d take you anywhere you wanted.

“The moon, could you take me to the moon?” you asked him in earnest. For a split second you noticed his face change from flirty to confused but he easily bounced back.

“I’ll take you right now, how about it?”

Not one to say no to an interesting opportunity, you accepted.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen manga #gojou satoru x reader #jjk season 2 #jujustsu kaisen x reader

[illumalux]

Life Series Victors as Tarot Cards

A presentation on why we’ve got it all wrong when it comes to grouping life series victors.

This post will continue on with the implication that ZombieCleo is a Victor, simply because she is. She won real life, therefore she's a victor. Argue with the wall.

Now, I see your celestial trio of the first three winners. This should never change. This feels the most apt, it centers perfectly, and each of the things it represents are present in multiple different categories. Obviously in space, as everyone has adapted to, but also in a Minecraft world, and what I see as more important: in a tarot deck.

Think about it this way.

The Watchers, in whatever form you think they (or we) take, are collecting these Victors. Each one means a different thing, survived a different landscape. While I understand the celestial motif of the first three Victors, and how it fits into their characters, I would argue that many others are far too grounded for that.

It’s a collection, remember? What is better for assembling a set than a deck of cards? Especially ones that meddle in Fate, something the Watchers seem to adore.

So here are the cards each Victor represents, with card meaning and my defense as well. This will go in chronological order of the seasons.

Before I continue, I just want to give a disclaimer. Every tarot deck has a slightly different explanation for what each card means. The definitions I use are a mix of three of my decks and the official Rider-Waite-Smith deck's explanation, so if there are inconsistencies with what your deck says or what you know, please don't come for me.

Grian, Third Life:

XIX. The Sun

Beyond the obvious desert motifs (a whole extra post in and of itself), the Sun is representative of not only Grian's gameplay, but also how the Watchers (those collecting this deck) feel about him. Grian is one of them, so he naturally starts out in their good graces, with a greater level of respect.

Rider-Waite-Smith defines the card as one of success. Of course the Watchers will gloat when their baby wins. Even if he wasn't meant to, it did inevitably mean that throughout his game, Grian was inarguably one of the largest sources of negative emotions, second only to the Red Army. Again. Extra post on its own. When he won, it saved anyone the satisfaction that might negate their negativity, alongside the delicious outpouring of grief that was the final duel of Third Life.

Reversed, the Sun is a card of depression. As I just touched on, one of the most defining moments of Grian's game was his final victory. When the ending came down to himself or his greatest ally, he went about it in the way that caused probably the most pain to both parties involved. It pushed him to the very brink, ending in him defining his own ending just moments after winning.

Scott, Last Life:

XVII. The Star

Even ignoring the starborne origins and headcanons, as well as the crown of stars included in his skin (Void below, these posts write themselves) this one looks like a super simple explanation, but actually requires me pointing out something that may not be obvious to some Watchers: Scott, in every game and Iteration has made it a point to rebel against the rules in whatever way he can. I could go into full detail, but thats a lot of words and I don't need anyoen to get bored. (Void, this series and side tangents that require other posts)

In third life, a game about death and destruction, and the originator of factions, Scott took a very different route: he got married and built a house in a flower field. When grief finally found him, he refused to give the Watchers any satisfaction, literally crystalizing his grief into a part of his character design (and one that would remain for two to three more seasons, depending on your thoughts on the coral pieces). In Last Life, he is the singular person in all five seasons (technically two, but shhh this is more dramatic) to withstand the Boogeyman curse, something the Watchers installed purposefully to make people kill allies. Double Life, obviously, as Scott rejecting the soulmate the Watchers gave him. Limited life, in which kills gave more time, Scott did not die a single time without giving life freely, either to an ally or a temporary ally.

That got long. Anyways. Scott's game has always been one of hope, spreading positivity and refusing to be pushed around by the Watchers. And that's exactly what the Star means. Upright, this is a card about hope and perseverence, pushing through challenges, which is exactly what Scott does. He refuses to let the Watchers' actions upset him and continues to play the game for his friends and for the future and nothing else.

Even reversed it still fits. Reversed, the Star means loss or abandonment. I've already used up too much time on Scott here, so I'll let you pick your favorite instance of that.

Pearl, Double Life:

XVIII. The Moon

This one is far and away the easiest. Like the previous two Victors, Pearl's story connected her with her symbol even before she won. But blood moons and wolf packs aside (as that's a whole different post for a whole different day) when you take a look at the definitions provided, it becomes even clearer.

The Moon is a card of transformation and change, as well as revealing one's inner self. Rider-Waite-Smith attributes hidden enemies, darkness, and terror with The Moon. While I'll happily analyze every single one of Pearl's actions as the Scarlet Pearl, I think this one is plenty self explanatory. After her rejection early on in the game, she immediately isolates herself and latches onto the night motifs, leaning in to what everyone expects her to be.

The reversed meanings also explain Pearl's arc in Double Life perfectly: confusion, mixed messages, and disbelief. This perfectly encapsulates Pearl's feelings at the very beginning of the game via her rejection by Scott and subsequent abandonment by Martyn in an attempt to get back into Cleo's good graces. Her instinctual reaction is one of shock, not understanding why Scott would choose to pick a soulmate when she was right in front of him.

Martyn, Limited Life:

XVI. The Tower

One of my favorite cards, the Tower is instantly recognizable. While most of my analyses aren't about how the card looks, I feel like it's important to share this time around. The most common image consists of a tower and one or both of two elements: lightning, and people falling. As a card, it represents sudden change, destruction, and chaos.

If anyone here is not yet convinced that I'm correct, please go rewatch Martyn's last LimLife episode, then come back and argue.

You're back? Great. We agree? No? Fine, I'll explain.

This fixates mainly on his winning game, but I'll touch on the rest of his games as well. LimLife ended with a huge betrayal on Martyn's part, one characterized by being so insanely sudden. (Of course it's the Watchers meddling. But the Tower isn't always about your own choices being your downfall.) He quite literally snapped as if hit by lightning (see description of the card), and this spells the beginning of the end for him.

Similarly, in all of his other games, Martyn finds himself with one pivotal moment that spells his downfall. The Red King, Betrayal at the Southlands (and honestly his worst move in DL was abandoning Pearl to try and beg for Cleo's forgiveness).

Funny enough, the reversed meaning of this card is almost a perfect match. I don't think this needs too much more explaining.

Scar, Secret Life:

X. The Wheel of Fortune

I adore Scar in these games. Every single season seems absolutely plagued by chaos. The worst season, obviously, was the one in which he gained his crown. Poor guy was just trying to make friends, and it seemed like every new secret was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

The Wheel is just what it sounds like: it's the card of luck, destiny, and fate. I won't add a new paragraph for the reversed meaning here either, as it means the exact same thing as upright, but with negative connotations in the form of bad luck and misfortune.

Scar is plagued by the whims of luck left and right. It seems like, more than any other player, Scar is unable (whether by others, fate, Watchers, what have you) to take full control of his own story and take actions that he wants to take, instead limited to where the current takes him.

But in the end, that chaos is what gives him his win. The lack of alliances and freedom that the game forced on him was what eventually lead him to be unmoored and able to volley his pain wherever he wanted, leading to a mostly painless win.

Cleo, Real Life:

XIII. Death

A little on the nose, I know, but which of these choices aren't? For a series entirely based on improv, there are a stupid amount of coincidences present.

Now, I know this is far and away the shortest series, so I'm going to analyse Cleo as a player across all of her seasons, not just her winning game. Sorry Real Life. You should have been longer.

While the meaning of the Death card may seem obvious, it's twofold in actuality. In some historical decks, even, the card is instead named Rebirth. I know how ironic that is that the zombie is the one who stands for death and rebirth, but again. Blame the stupid narrative, not the poor me trying to make sense of it.

In what my lovely mutual Honor called "phoenix behavior", I'm going to focus specifically on her deaths and rebirths, specifically BigB's betrayal in LastLife. Cleo takes her death hard, as anyone might. But her rebirth comes with change. The minute she respawns, it's with a different understanding of the world around her. She immediately embraces the change that has been given to her, burning down the Fairy Fort and ditching her alliance for a new one.

The reverse captures Cleo as a character over her seasons better than anyone on this list. While the upright meaning of the card is change, reversed it signifies stagnancy, obsession, and immobility. This can be seen almost perfectly with her thoughts on alliances. Scott remains forever in her good books, even over the course fo multiple seasons, simply because he has never wronged her. Even when they aren't direct allies,she still cooperates with him whenever, simply because she retains her previous feelings about him. The same can be said for BigB, but in the opposite direction. From the moment of the betrayal onwards, she refuses to trust him, going so far as to warn Pearl away from allying with him in LimLife.

Bonus: Jimmy Solidarity, the Canary

XII. The Hanged Man

But Moon! you shout, throwing your complimentary bucket of popcorn at me. Jimmy isn't a Victor! He's the exact opposite!

Yep.

That's why he's so soggy and why he goes on this list. You wanna argue that he doesn't have the same lore impact as a Victor? Too bad. Can't hear you. Jimmy gets his own card.

Initially, I was kinda sad that I already used the Tower, because that's the portent of doom and gloom or whatever, perfect for a canary. But then I spied an even better, even more Jimmy card.

The Hanged Man is the card of sacrifice. While I could go on a whole rant about the Fool's journey and how it is represented in the Life Series, that is Extra Tumblr Post Number IDK Anymore. Instead, today I'm going to stick to the basics. To specify sacrifice, the card doesn't just mean giving up. It signifies self sacrifice specifically. And what is Jimmy if not a semi-willing first sacrifice to get the chaos rolling?

How many times has he gone out to stop his friends from being the one who has to herald the change? The canary knows that he will sing the final notes, but so long as he can ensure the miners don't have to, he will descend once more.

Conclusion:

Now. Did I spend more time on this post than I ever did on an English Lit essay? Maybe. But as much as I love the space motifs this fandom has, I fundamentally disagree when we get to the latter winners. Come on, guys. Tarot decks are right here.

If I missed anything, or I misrepresented a player's game, please tell me. I can't be everywhere at once, and I'm always happy to learn more about some of the players I don't watch as regularly.

Anyways, this was way more fun to write than I expected. If anyone wants to see me give cards to the rest of the players who have yet to win, or an analysis of anything a mentioned in my tangents, please let me know.

Special thanks to @honorsongs who kept me company through this whole process and gave me many a suggestion when I lost my train of thought.

#moon rambles into the void #life smp winners #life series #traffic smp #trafficblr #scott smajor #zombiecleo #grian #inthelittlewood #goodtimeswithscar #jimmy solidarity #tarot card organization supremacy #why wouldn't the watchers want to collect them to keep in a box lets be real #what else are we doing by organizing them? #pearlescentmoon

[cursed-man-prayers]

Before folklore came out, I would tell people that liking Taylor Swift was the straightest thing about me. Then folklore, evermore, and Red TV came out. As I saw the queer themes in those albums, I began seeing them in reputation, 1989, Speak Now, Fearless, and debut. The themes have always been there, fluctuating in subtlety but steadily increasing since 1989. So why did I think of Taylor Swift as so quintessentially straight? You guessed it: Compulsory heterosexuality and heteronormativity.

Taylor was supposed to be universally relatable. When she explained her songs, she refrained from using gender-specific language. Us. We. That person. Someone. And people that as “Me. I. A man. That guy I told everyone I was dating.” We were told she dated men, and a woman dating a man = heterosexual. No other options.

Even now, Genius will remove lyric annotations that imply her lyrics might not be about a man. Even with Hits Different, Question…? and Maroon. Taylor says reputation is about Joe and swifties believe her bc “Taylor wouldn’t lie to us!!!” even though there’s so many inconsistencies with the narrative that Rep is about Joe.

To say outright or even imply that Taylor might write songs about women because she likes women is met with scores of comments about how we “shouldn’t speculate on her sexuality!!! she said she’s straight!!! stop being disrespectful!!!!” But Taylor, as she has never said the words “I’m gay” has never said the words “I’m straight.” What she has done is align herself with. LGBTQ artists (YNTCD music video, Phoebe feat., posting support for queer musicians on social media, and, of course, the Pride parade that is her list of openers for the Eras Tour).

If Taylor didn’t people thinking she’s queer, she would’ve thrown in “as a straight woman…” in her speech before performing Delicate at multiple Pride events, when being interviewed about her advocacy during the Lover era, or at literally any point in her adult life.

Writing about women from the male perspective is queer. Her dressing in drag for the Man music video and showing herself in bed with a woman is inherently queer. The way she writes songs about her love interests’ girlfriends is queer. People bend over backwards to justify the gay shit she does, the same thing people have done for centuries with Sappho, Emily Dickinson, Louisa May Alcott, and so many sapphic artists throughout history. Taylor Swift is THE songwriter of our generation. She IS the music industry. But swifties, and hetlors all the more, would rather believe she is stupid and ignorant rather than intentionally using phrases like “hairpin drop,” “lavender haze,” “all the bricks they threw at me,” “you’re the West Village.” When she describes her muses as having scarlet lips, having hair that falls into place like dominos and braids in a pattern, gorgeous, it’s just because she thinks men are really pretty I guess (insert MetGala 2016 Joe photo). When she describes men as toys, playthings, “dudes who give nothing,” she’s being satirical. When she says “weird rumors,” that can’t possibly refer to rumors about marriage, pregnancy, or her having had multiple children during the pandemic. It’s *weird* to say that Taylor is queer. It’s weird and bad and gross. Why? Because people saying this believe being queer is weird, bad, and gross.

But it’s not weird. Being queer is beautiful, a gift. And that gift comes with a world that hates who we are. Of course Taylor is too soft for all it. And I admire her softness, that she continues to write vulnerable music. Midnights (esp 3am Edition and Hits Different) holds her loudest lyrics. She’s never beating the rumors and she doesn’t want to. Even if she never says the words “I’m gay/bi/pan/a lesbian,” the eardrum-shattering volume of her lyrics is more than enough for me.

#gaylor swift #gaylor #taylor swift lyric analysis #queer #question…? #maroon #hits different #i swear you could hear a hairpin drop #midnights

[chrollohearttags]

𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛 • 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

synopsis: after spending all of his time and nearly a week in Houston with (y/n), EJ must return home and to reality. But he isn’t pleased to find that his manager has been making moves behind his back. Ones that may sever their longtime bond and jeopardize her relationship after a heated altercation results in legal troubles for the rapper .It's also there that he reveals a secret to his best friend and what it may mean for his future as an artist. Could EJ the Don really be done with music as the media claimed? Meanwhile, (y/n)’s starpower continues ascending as she receives offers from tons of companies to do business. With the concerns of her friends lurking over her head; worrying that she may have been distracted by her recent fling, she proves to be more determined than ever to make things happen, especially when a part of her past is unearthed, serving as a reminder why she started in the first place and with news of EJ’s recent run in with the law, it’s one more reason to stay the course and keep distance. But will it really be that easy? The head executives of AMG are finally introduced, and with plans to host one of the world’s largest musical festivals for the first time in history, they meet to discuss the state of their current roster and how they plan to proceed.

content warning: mentions of violence, fighting/arguing, drug mentions, angst, mental health, mentions of death and grief, toxicity, implied sex, legal stuff and mentions of jail

word count: 8.8K

📝: just wanna tell you all thank you so very much being patient with these very sporadic and inconsistent uploads. I promise it is not due to lack of inspiration, these chapters just take a hell of a long time to write! If I could have them out in a week, I would. But I hope that everyone is enjoying this story so far and I can’t for y’all to see what’s next! 🫶🏾

previous chapter >>> next chapter

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“Listen, Mr. Jaeger..I assure you. There’s nothing to worry about, alright? In all fairness, and in the eyes of the law, they were trespassing onto your property. Which gave you grounds to defend yourself. We’ll beat this case, trust me. And if they press their luck, we’ll crush them..you’ll own their entire company by the time I’m finished.”

“Shit, I hope so. My manager’s gonna be on my ass when she finds out. I don’t even wanna know what story those grimy ass journalists cooked up and put out..but that’s why I pay you. Do your thing and make this headache go away, please. I have full faith in you.”

It was a rather interesting Monday morning for the jaded Eren, who had been mid-conversation with his lawyer. A defense attorney to the stars who had beaten some of the most harrowing allegations and cases. Yelena Pithikos, a woman as intimidating as she was intelligent..and boy, did she live up to her reputation! A perfect track record with not one single lost case. She really was the greatest of all time in the legal world. With her on his side, there was no way he’d lose. The two would converse for a little longer; the rapper facing a half smoked blunt and blowing smoke before ending the call. To say he was stressed would be the biggest understatement of the century. Having been a free man for a little over twenty four hours, he had not only been hit with a barrage of text messages from concerned friends but knew that a media shitstorm was headed his way. All of it seemed so exhausting! Floch, who came and posted bail on his behalf, was worried that he’d be irate but if anything, he was just worried. Worried that he had caused yet another issue for Mika and how she’d have to spend the next week trying to clean up his mess. Little did he know though, that this wasn’t a result of his own actions..

“Come in.”

Uttering tirelessly over his shoulder as he mashed away at the keys on his mixing board. Suddenly, the door would creak open..followed by the faint footsteps of clacking heels hitting the tile. “No snarky comments today?” That old statement about speaking of the devil and they shall appear had never rang so true before. Just then, a visibly tired Mikasa came walking in; hands folded over her chest and cell phone in hand. Truthfully, he didn’t even want to look at her. Not out of embarrassment but fear that he had angered her or upset her. He sometimes worried the people around him with his careless actions. He did things without taking into account how they may affect everyone else. However, this wasn’t a matter that he should or could apologize for. Not when his home, his safe haven was invaded.

“..look, I know what you’re gonna say. And I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel like listening to any lectures right now. Already got an earful of the damn cops and a bunch of crazy bastards in a holding cell getting on my last good nerve. Also, I forgot how much of a pain in the ass handcuffs are..I’m just not in the mood right now.”

blurting out before proceeding to focus on his current task..avoiding eye contact with her if at all possible. But surprisingly, she wasn’t as talkative or angry as she normally would have been. Which he didn’t even notice at first. But as the conversation progressed, he’d soon come to realize that he wasn’t so much at fault as he initially figured and in truth, the one to blame was standing in front of him. Even so, she’d glare down at him as a disappointed mother would her unruly child. For a split second, he even thought about how his own mom had called him not too long ago to check on..and scolded him about the incident and he was drained! The last thing he needed was another chewing out.

“Why did you skip out on our meeting last week?”

the question caught him off guard and confused EJ even more. What exactly did that have to do with this situation in particular? Was she not ready to rip his head off for creating yet another mess for her to mull over with the execs and the media? What was going on?! Leaning back in his chair, he’d blink profusely to really make sure he heard correctly but she’d give him that glare she’d done many times before and await his answer. “Don’t stare at me like I’m speaking another language. What was so goddamn important that you couldn’t even give me a phone call to let me know you weren’t showing up? That meeting was booked out months ago and you made me look like a complete dumbass in front of the board members. Your album deadline keeps getting pushed back and I keep having to make excuses. You don’t find that a little fucked up?”

he understood exactly where she was coming from..Mikasa worked tirelessly to ensure that all of her talents received equal attention and that they were being given opportunities to showcase their talents. As well as being backed by the top brass at AMG. It was her job as the median between the two to ensure that things went smoothly. It wasn’t easy to get a room full of stiffs in suits to fund projects sometimes but Eren’s reputation and record sales had always spoken for themselves. But with a four year time lapse between his last album and now, it was becoming difficult to do so. She was just irritated that once again, his selfishness had put her in a bad spot. It was hard enough that she had to work to prove she wasn’t just some byproduct of nepotism and family favors. But she had earned her spot as the executive PR and internal affairs manager. One she held proudly. But he’d try to explain as best he could without detonating the ticking time bomb.

“Look, Mika. I’m sorry, alright? I was busy, kinda needed to duck off and clear my head for a lil’ bit, that’s all. I didn’t realize that the damn meeting was so soon. I wasn’t trying to stand you up, I promise. I had other things to tend to, that’s all. Just schedule another one and I’ll be there, promise. Hell, tell Floch and I’m sure he’ll remind me.” Once again, there was that nonchalant attitude. It ground her gears to a halt, really. It was as if he had no real concept of reality..

“I wish I had an excuse but I don’t. Truth is, leaving town was some shit I decided last minute. I can’t even tell you why I went. I was out drinking and the next, I was in Houston. Doing shit I hadn’t in a long time...enjoying myself. That I won’t apologize for. I didn’t expect to come home to a bunch of paps at my door, interrogating me about some fuck ass article I knew nothing about. Saying I was retiring and a lot of other bullshit. Respectfully, the last thing I wanna deal with is your uncle and the rest of the firing squad questioning me about an album rollout. I need some time to think.” It seemed that he was truly agitated by all of this. As if he were confused as to how he could have a perfect weekend, pillow talking and fucking on (y/n) to now being in the midst of a media frenzy. It just seemed so sudden and now, he was trying to figure out how to deal with it. But Mika’s next comment would not only catch him off guard but eventually, send him into a tailspin.

“Damn, I knew something like this would happen.”

“What do you mean?”

Before she could recant though, Mikasa’s expression gave it away and she knew that he had definitely peeped that statement. Just what exactly did she know about this situation that he was clueless on? One thing was for certain though, he was going to find out. Glaring up at her with a rather peeved look, Eren began to press the issue..wondering if he’d get a straight answer or some calculated shit she’d orchestrated. What was this all about?

“Mikasa..I asked you a question. What do you mean ‘you knew?’ Answer me.”

normally, the banter between them was nothing more than playful, joking discourse but there wasn’t the slightest hint of happiness in his tone at the moment. But rather, complete and utter irritation and quite frankly, a hint of anger as well. He wasn’t much for the games and she figured it best not to test him either. So, against her better judgment and her own interests, she decided to come clean. Releasing a heavy sigh, Mikasa began to confess and tell him how the entire situation came about. From the fact that she was fed up with him ducking and evading meetings from the phone call with Annie and even putting the bug in her ear about writing the article. She told him that she knew he was with (Y/N) for the weekend and that she was furious about being stood up yet again..and that his inconsistency was affecting her own standing within the company. Admitting that she knew him well enough to know that he would’ve never moved for some one off blog post about him hooking up with an Instagram model but the second they mentioned news of him retiring or perhaps becoming stagnant, he’d definitely respond by clapping back from the booth. It seemed like such a sure fire way to give him that extra push to put out a new track or maybe even a full project..what she didn’t count on was him being swarmed and the whole plan backfiring.

“Look, Eren..I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t know they’d take it this far. It was a last minute, brash decision I made out of anger and I put you in a bad situation. I apologize.”

But he wasn’t hearing a word. Honestly, he had blanked from the moment she admitted that she had all but set the catalyst for this entire ordeal. Now, he had to attend court, pay legal fees and deal with a dumb ass judge..all because she wanted him to produce another record to improve her status quo?! It was infuriating but the worst part was that she was willing to exploit her own best friend and things that he had and were still struggling with for clout. He had known Mikasa for the majority of his life and she was one of, if not the most logical and intelligent person he knew. Out of all his friends, she was the one that always made the smart decisions, even in the most high stress of situations. Always thinking things through and ensured that her emotions never got in the way of her thought process. However.. “..how fucking stupid can you be?” That wasn’t the case and Eren was more than happy to let her hear about it!

For a moment, she stood still..gasping as she had never heard him speak to her in that manor. Granted, she was full and well aware of how irate he could truly become but not once in the entirety of their friendship did she think she’d become the subject of his anger. But this was coming from a place of pure hysteria. Hurt and betrayal that she would do something like this..standing to his feet, EJ tried his hardest to practice restraint to avoid saying anything extremely hurtful but he wasn’t much in the way of exercising such resolve at the moment. Especially when not only had she gotten him in this mess and offered no real solution to help repair his reputation but also, he hadn’t heard from the one person who was keeping him happy and this may have very well been the reason. So he didn’t feel compelled to hold back in expressing his feelings.

“Look, I said I’m sorry, alright? We’ll get this sorted out. Just calm down–”

“Calm down? Are you serious? Mika, I just spent the past twenty four hours in a fucking holding cell. One more fuckup and they’re gonna send me away for a long time. I had to fight a bunch of psychos off of my car and property over a story I knew nothing about. Not to mention everything in it was a lie. I take a few days off for myself, for once and you jump the gun all because you and the rest of those slave driving maniacs at AMG want me to make another album? To hell with calming down and honestly, to hell with you too for even pulling something like this! I’m your friend and you sold me out like I was nothing..”

The frustration was visible all over his face..the emotions coming through clear as day and radiating all throughout his body. Even causing tears to well in his eyes. He was furious, enraged and if it were anyone else..moreso a man, he would’ve slid them across the floor by now. But this stung more than anything. He knew how hard she worked and the lengths she went to ensure her clients’ success; not only for them but to prove that she was capable of one day becoming the heiress and figurehead of Ackerman Management Group but never in a million years did he think she’d become so obsessed with proving herself that she’d lose sight of what really mattered. Now, the damage had been done and he didn’t know if he could forgive such an act. Even so, she wanted to at least try to defend her actions!..

“Only because you never listen to me. Hell, you won’t listen to anyone!..you never think about how the things you do affects anyone else. It took three months..three months to get that goddamn meeting and you couldn’t give me so much as a phone call to let me know you wouldn’t be there. Out of every client I have, you’re the most difficult. I get it, you’ve been working since you were sixteen. Harder than anyone I know but hell, this has been my life for as long as I could remember. I’ve got a whole line of old bastards who’d do anything to remove me from the equation because once my uncle steps down, they don’t want to execute decisions made by the same little girl that used to play in the lobby. None of them truly believe I deserve that spot, no matter how hard I work. How many success stories I create…I’ll never be good enough in their eyes. The least you could do is not make it hard on me to do my job..Jesus! You’re getting a little too old for the rebellious bad boy act. In and out of jail, long before this..doing whatever the hell you wanted! You have obligations and you won’t even stand on your word but you want to preach about friendship and loyalty? Spare me, Eren. Please..this is business, remember that.”

The entire time that she was speaking, he felt himself becoming even more sated with rage. His blood boiling at her deflection. But his face had completely gone blank from a few minutes ago. Not even making eye contact as he rolled yet another blunt. As if she weren't even there but little did she know, he had a hell of a response for her little tangent and he promised she wouldn’t like it. That nonchalant, brutal honesty was one of his most horrible character traits and she was about to be on the receiving end. Uncrossing his feet, letting the sole of his Nike Dunks hit the floor, Eren began to smirk and eventually..laugh. That’s when he was at his most dangerous and the words about to leave his mouth were far more painful than any punch could ever be.

“You know Mika, you make it sound as if it’s my fault you’re not up for the task. Don’t try to take the piss out on me because Uncle Levi and his lackies are second guessing if you should take his crown. But aye, I’m not surprised. I mean, shit..it’s not the first time they’ve had to intervene because you lost control.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?..”

By now, the two of them were only inches apart. Her face screwed up and was riddled with hostility. Eren on the other hand was sporting the snarkiest, smuggest smirk he could muster. Blowing that cloud of smoke, he’d run a finger underneath her chin and look directly in her eyes:

“Exactly as I said, sweetheart. That little bullshit essay from your friend? I wonder just how much of it is true and how much of it is you projecting..let’s not pretend that you’ve always been..this. Little Miss Perfect. If anyone on this earth can’t tell me shit about obligations and integrity, it’s you Mika. You were on those stages and in the same dressing rooms I was. Getting high out of your fucking mind just to get through one set. Snorting coke off of a bathroom counter because you hated it so much. Sleeping with a bunch of assholes you couldn’t even stand looking at but hey, they made you feel better, told you you were pretty after mommy put you on another diet because the blogs were making fun of you. How many times did me, Armin and everybody else have to come pick you up off of the floor because you’d get so damned drunk after your shows, you couldn’t even remember where you were the next morning. And please, let’s not forget how many times you cried in my arms because you didn’t have the heart to tell your family to fuck off and stop forcing you to make music. It took that stupid ass fiancé of yours outshining you at your own show for you to finally realize that you hated being an artist. And you think you can actually lead that company? Don’t make me laugh. You’d probably snort your body weight if you had to handle that type of pressure. Hell, I’ve done some fucked up shit since I started making music. Taking drugs I had no business touching, just to stay awake and getting in trouble when I probably should’ve walked away but I never once tried to run from my mistakes either and I damn sure never stopped loving my craft..especially not enough to half ass a performance. No matter how bad I felt..how sick I was, even when I didn’t think anyone would even give me a chance or listen, I always showed up. Everything I do is for my fans. Losing sleep over a song because I wanted it to be perfect. You couldn’t even make it to a single album before cracking under pressure. This isn’t some money grab for me, music is my entire life and the only thing I’ve ever loved. And I’ll be damned if you or anyone else backs me into a corner over it. Tell that bitch Leonhart to put that on her website..and if you don’t like it, you and AMG can kiss my ass.”

Every single word he spoke sliced through Mikasa like a hot, searing knife through butter. Her face had become beet red and flush with tears. Huffing and breathing heavily as if she were going to explode at any second. She wanted to scream at him but couldn’t even find the words. Instead, she’d raise her open palm and smack him across the cheek with the hardest slap she could muster..so much so, it left a crimson colored mark on his face.

“Fuck you, Eren. Fuck you!..you’ve gone too far. I came here to apologize for what I did but the only mistake I’ve made is befriending an asshole like you. Burn in hell for all I care and find a new manager while you’re at it because I quit. Do whatever you want.”

furiously tugging her purse strap back up on her shoulder, Mikasa turned on her heel and proceeded to storm out. Not looking over her shoulder once because she wouldn’t be able to control herself if she did. As for EJ, he didn’t bother to stop her or even remotely show remorse for that long winded read. Rather, he’d listen as she slammed the door behind her and left. He was still pissed off but that may have been a little harsh.

“Damn..maybe I should think before I speak.” But it was too late now. There was no turning back or apologizing. For either of them..all that remained now was for him to put his focus where it always was: into his craft. Drown out all the noise and distractions and get back to what he truly loved. Because truth be told, she wasn’t the only one losing her grip on reality and goals. As he sat back in the chair, hands folded underneath his chin, all EJ could think to himself was one single thing:

“I think it might be time to call it quits. Maybe music isn’t for me anymore..”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .*°•|☆•° .*°•|☆•l

meanwhile, as Eren felt that his time in the spotlight was beginning to dwindle, (y/n) on the other hand felt that your star was only about to ascend. Having just concluded the very last show in your cross country tour, you were already plotting on your next lucrative business opportunity.

“That sounds perfect. I’ll be back in Miami tomorrow so we can meet up and hash out the details. Thank you again, Mr. Smith. I appreciate your time.”

you’d find yourself on the opposite end with one of AMG’s elite directors and the man who had approached you back at Rolling Loud about starring in Connie’s video. You found it a bit strange that Mikasa wasn’t the intermediary for this particular deal but you just chocked it up to her being busy but you knew if Erwin Smith; the nine time Grammy Winner and music legend was contacting you personally then it must’ve been a huge deal. Either way, you were excited to see what was in store. Once you ended the call, you’d turn your attention back to the rest of the group, who were preparing to board their respective flights as you all paraded through the airport. Dressed in cute yet casual outfits, hair put up and bags stacked on one another. The final leg of the Pole Assassins Cross Country Tour had come to its end last night; concluded by a performance with a real rap legend performing. You all were excited to be going home…getting to see your families and most importantly, getting some much needed rest. But for the fearless leader, things never stopped. You were on your grind twenty four hours a day. Even counting up checks while you slept from brand deals and your namesake. It wasn’t all too bad. But for the ones that knew you best, they also knew that once you touched down back in Miami, you’d more than likely be closed off to everyone. That the reason you were working so hard was to keep yourself distracted from your impending grief. Even the passage of time never made it easier to get over the tragedy you suffered at seventeen years old and as a child in general. Affecting your life now even as a grown woman..living the way only few could dream of. Because of that, not one person in this world had access to (y/n) this time of year and it was very obvious by the very nonchalant reaction to the news of your sneaky link getting arrested, that the sullen mood had already set in. You didn’t even so much as gasp or even shrug it off as you had done countless other men that fucked up while in your life. And that’s what worried your girls.

“Aye, you sure she’s gonna be good while we’re on vacation? She already seems spaced out.” a concerned Kelley questioned whilst scrolling through her phone. Luckily though, Niesha wouldn’t be too far away, as you guys grew up only blocks away and not much had changed since becoming famous. You guys’ luxury apartments were within walking distance so if you needed anything, she could always pop in and check on you. “Yeah, she’ll be alright. She just needs her space right now. Listen, I’ll call y’all when we make it and keep you updated.” With that, the four girls would make their way over to (y/n), who had been standing near the gate for your flight, becoming visibly anxious. Suddenly, you’d feel a pair of comforting arms wrapping your shoulders. “Hey, pookah. You ready to go?” That warm and loving smile that could only come from your best friend and sister. “Yeah, I’m ready.” Returning the glance, you’d nod and turn to bid the rest of your crew farewell for now. Embracing in a giant group hug, the five of you exchanged laughs and even playful kisses to the cheek. Just then, your procession of being bid adieu was interrupted by a voice of the intercom, announcing departure of the Miami and Atlanta flights. “Y’all be good now. See y’all later, love you guys!” Kelley, Brianne and Syrai waved and you and Niesha would do the same as you clenched hands. Much like you had done as little girls when walking to the corner store. You were each other’s safety nets and truthfully, Niesha was all you had right now. So she’d do whatever to make you comfortable. To let you know that you weren’t alone at this time, no matter what it may have felt like. She loved you more than anything and you could feel the energy brimming from your bestie, even if there wasn’t a single word exchanged during the walk from baggage check to boarding the plane. As the two of you made it to your seats and got acclimated..you’d stay close to Niesha. Clinging to her like moths to a flame. Coiling an arm around hers and eventually, laying your head on her shoulder. Even in the dead of silence, the sentiment was loud and clear to Niesha:

“You know I always got you, pookah. You my girl and I love you…take all the time you need. You know your granny would be proud, just like I am, (Y/N). You've been working hard so now it’s time to go tell her all about it..forget EJ, forget working. This is time between you and her..”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Page Break and Time Skip: Thursday Night, The Jaeger Residence, Miami Florida; 10:55PM

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

darkness had well set over the bustling city..a thunderstorm showering the bustling streets and ruining the evening plans of would be partygoers and club hoppers. But there was an even darker cloud looming over the head of Eren, who was currently holed up in his home studio, flug lazily across the couch with his electric guitar lying across his bare torso and an open bottle of brown liquor next to him. He had been drinking and doing whatever he could to rid himself of any feelings and emotions. Having all but become a recluse..which wasn’t out of character for the hard shelled rapper to begin with but where as label mates and friends could find him working up until the early morning hours on a new song, he hadn’t even touched his work equipment. And instead, was instead getting inebriated with every substance he could tolerate so that guilt, anger or sadness stood no chance of plaguing his mind. Right now, he had his guitar lying across his bare torso and an open bottle of brown liquor in his hand. He was trying to find his spark..that extra push to drum up something to shut both his manager and his hating ass critics up. But nothing was coming through. He had no desire to make a beat, write lyrics…he just wanted to lie there and rot. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in ages. That creative slump and depression that had plagued many of his peers..the point of no return. Where artists could no longer achieve that sense of gratification when putting out music. They’d resort to making a few radio safe tracks to appease the masses before disappearing from the scene altogether and fading into obscurity. The last thing he wanted was to become an afterthought..but he was tired of grasping at straws. But luckily, a much needed distraction would be arriving in the form of his best friend, Armin. Who for some odd reason, couldn’t rid himself of the nagging suspicion that something was amiss with his homeboy. That would’ve been putting it lightly…

“Mr. Jaeger? You have company..” one of his loyal housekeepers and truthfully, someone he considered family, had been staying in one of the designated bedrooms for staff and was still tending to some chores when she got a knock at the door. Once getting the approval from security and seeing who it was pulling into the driveway, she breathed a sigh of relief. Because she knew if anyone could pull her gloomy employer from this week long slump fest he seemed to be trapped in, it was Armin. Whether EJ would welcome the thought or not. Before he even had the opportunity to attest and decline, the door would burst open and in would come a rather perturbed Armin, who was glancing around the dimly lit room; halting dead in his tracks at the sad sight before him. Turning to the housekeeper, he’d warmly assure her that he could take things from here and thanked the woman. It seemed to be a lot worse than what she had portrayed. He was hardly leaving his room nowadays, less known eating or anything else. Normally, she would’ve been sent home and still given a full day’s pay because Eren would insist on cleaning the mess for her, so as not to overexert herself. But when the head of the house was in a less than jovial mood, the energy was blatantly obvious to everyone.

“Alright, get your ass up. Enough of this. It’s pathetic..” the brash words leaving Armin’s mouth as he slammed the door behind him, which elicited quite the reaction from the hotheaded artist. “Watch your fucking mouth and don’t slam my fucking door either, bitch.” But alas, Armin didn’t give the slightest care. Because an angry reaction was better than none at all. Laughing as he took a seat in Eren’s chair, just to rub a bit more salt in the already festering wound. “And here I was thinking you had really lost it. You only look and smell like you’ve reached rock bottom. The proverbial clawing under his skin had seemed to work in Armin’s favor because he was at least sitting upright now and wiping his eyes so they’d adjust to the light. Releasing a loud yawn, Eren shot his best friend the middle finger and proceeded to ask exactly why the hell he was in his house this late in the evening. Armin would shrug it off as he’d always done, kicking back with a bottle of water he had confiscated from his fridge on the way up. Even going as far to take his shoes off and get mighty comfortable. “Oh, Eren. You silly goose..you can’t escape me that easily. Besides…I’m here on official business.” the response piquing his very dulled interest. Raising a furrowed eyebrow, Eren hoisted the bottle to his lips for yet another swig of the Hennessy. “Official business? At ten PM? What the hell are you talking about?” of course, he wanted to stay here another minute without being tossed from the second story, he’d elaborate. Although, EJ had quite the nagging suspicion of what this was pertaining to. Since he and Mikasa’s giant quarrel last week, word had gotten around the entirety of AMG..including the higher ups. Who had been in talks of what to do. On one hand, Mikasa was the best PR manager to come out of the firm, not to mention the fact she was the boss’ niece and next in line. On the other hand, EJ the Don was their highest earning artist. Regardless of Grammys or accolades, his name was still holding weight after all this time. And with the two of them at odds, who knew what would become of the team? However, for Armin..it was much more than that. He could care less about AMG’s record sales or a damn article. What he cared about was seeing his best friends at odds and hurting. Unbeknownst to Eren, this fight hadn’t just affected him.

It seemed that his harsh words had hurt Mikasa far worse than anyone had anticipated. The remarks about her younger days on stage and turning to drugs to cope with the pressures of being in the limelight had driven her back to some of those nasty old habits. She was trying to keep a brave face but it reminded her of how imperfect she truly was. Regardless of that front..and him. Sitting here wasting away, all because some fucked up article said he was washed. Enough was enough!

“Look, dude. I’m not gonna bullshit with you, alright? I’m not exactly sure of what happened between you and Mika. It’s honestly none of my business but what I do know is that both of you stubborn assholes need to fix this. She won’t even tell Jean..she just says it’s the stress of work before closing up in her room for hours. The other day, she blanked on one of the coordinators because he got the wrong number of napkins for an event. Whatever you said to her, you need to apologize before that bitch kills all of us.” And he wasn’t bluffing, sadly. Mikasa had been known to be quite the pistol. They had seen her beat grown men who tried to make passes at her so they knew she could be the Tasmanian devil when she wanted to. But there was one person with a hotter head than she had..

“I’m not apologizing for a damn thing. Should’ve thought about that before running to the blogs and trying to lie about it. She wants to use cheap tactics and dumb shit then she can stand on that. Just don’t expect me to feel sorry for telling the truth.” Honestly, it was pointless to get through to either of them and he knew he’d only exhaust himself trying to argue. Maybe what they needed most was not to be lectured but for someone to listen and once he began to open up..it all made sense. Talking back another swig of that dark liquor, Eren began to confess what was truly bothering him.

“I worked myself like crazy..for years, all I wanted was to be the best. To make music that transcended the charts. Hell, I didn’t care if I ever touched a Grammy or even got my flowers. I just wanted to make shit that people could relate to. Everybody told me how stupid I was for leaving home..a cushy life just to chase this so called dream of mine. But I loved it. I loved sitting in front of my laptop..pen and paper just coming up with verse after verse. After a while, it felt like second nature. I could do that shit in my sleep, y’know?” As he continued to speak, Armin listened attentively. In all the years that they had known one another, pretty much for the entirety of their young lives, Eren had never once been this vulnerable or open with him. They joked around and sometimes went at each other’s throats but this was a completely different side that no one had seen. It could’ve been the liquor or just the lack of having someone to talk to but either way, he was pouring his heart out. And a few tears too, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Masking it behind his smirking and laughter..

“Lately, I’ve just been feeling like I don’t have a place anymore. I kept telling myself ‘maybe if I help them with this project’ or ‘if I produce this track’, my inspiration for my own shit would find me again. But nothing…I didn’t feel the same way I did a couple years ago. Less known, ten. I spent all this time trying to build this empire and now I feel like I don’t have shit to show for it..these labels, they decide you’re no longer useful, and you’re out the fucking door. It’s frustrating, I ain’t gon’ lie.” interrupting his rant only to wipe away his tears and take another sip. “I can’t even keep a girl. Finally find one worth a damn and I go and fuck it up. I’m sure she saw I got arrested and ran for the hills. Can’t say I blame her though–” it was at that moment, Armin had heard more than enough. Listening to all he could take of this pity fest and self wallowing. Unbending his knees, he planted his feet to the ground, snatching that bottle out of his hand. “First of all, if you think for one second and I’m gonna sit here and let you cry like a lil’ bitch, you’re sadly mistaken. Dude, do you know how many people you’ve inspired with this music shit? Including me? Ony, Connie, even Jean, loves your work and he can’t stand your ass. I’ve never seen anything like it. Ten years..ten years you’ve been doing and dude, you’re only getting started. If you quit now, that’s the only way it’ll be in vain. You gotta keep going..not just for your fans or even to prove a bunch of losers on the internet wrong. You gotta do it for sixteen year old EJ who chose sleeping in a bus station over the country club because he wanted to put the industry on its head. You gotta do this because no one else can. So what if you don’t feel like it right now? You have so much left in you and I’ll be damned if I watch you quit.” It were those exact words that had seemed to have brought forth a spark in him..bringing life back into those dull jade eyes. Finally getting himself together, he’d sniffle and begin to laugh. Wholeheartedly for the first time in days..it felt good. But that wasn’t it for the encouragement Armin had in store for him. There was one more bit of uplifting news he had.

“And about (y/n)? She’s not mad at you, dude. Promise. Niesha told me everything and honestly…she just needs space right now.” Armin found himself swallowing a lump in his throat as he uttered the sentence. “It’s not personal. I’m sure she’d be happy to link…when the time is right. But she’d hate to see you like this.” Taking another breath, he’d ask another request of his best friend while he seemed to be in a much better mood. “Listen, I know it’s not your thing and trust me, I already know what you’re gonna say. But I’m hosting a yacht party next week. I invited everyone else too..including (y/n)..so I was hoping you’d come too.” never had Armin been so soft spoken. Truthfully, all he wanted was to see his homeboy happy and the only person who had managed to do that in recent history was the gorgeous influencer who had obviously more than well caught his eye. Maybe the thing you two needed most was each other. Even so, it wouldn’t be that simple and EJ just wasn’t going to agree that easily.

“I’ll think about it, dude..” but before Armin could leave with a less than savory answer, Eren would avert his eyes towards the door, where Armin was close to opening it. “Aye..thanks, bro. I appreciate you.” reciprocating a toothy smile in return. Seeing him in a better mood than when he arrived was all the thanks he needed.

“That’s what I’m here for.” Doing their signature handshake they’ve had since childhood but alas the sweet, heartwarming camaraderie wouldn’t last long..as Armin had a bad habit of being as annoying as possible! “By the way, I’m gonna go get a shower and when I get back, we can work on some of these beats. I have a couple ideas.” at first, what he said didn’t exactly register to Eren but then he realized–

“I’m gonna take one of your spare beds too! The room with the mirror on the ceiling. I might have a little something coming over.”

“Yeah, man. No problem–wait a minute. You’re at my house, you jackass! What do you mean you’re gonna go shower?! Don’t you have a whole ass mansion?”

“Yeah, but I like a change of scenery.”

Before he even had the chance to respond, Armin was already headed back downstairs. “Love you, Eren!”

leaving the befuddled rapper shaking his head and in shock of just how tactless he was. One thing he could do was thank him for getting his mind right. Now..it was time to do something with that new found motivation.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

the next day…

“All in favor of moving forward with the second decision, say I”

“I”

Meanwhile, the top brass at the renowned talent agency was in the midst of a very important meeting. One with a lot of dire topics being voted on and currently, this may have been the most pertinent of them all..

“That settles it, six to four. We’re getting Italian. Have the kitchen make enough carbonara to feed the National Guard. We’re gonna be here for a while.” earning a collective sigh from the roundtable. Seated on the top floor of the eighteen story building were some of the most powerful and brilliant minds in the entertainment industry..from multi-platinum recording artists to Grammy winning producers, any and everyone who had helped shape several as they were today were running AMG and making it the largest talent agency and label with over one hundred and fifty talents signed and billions in revenue every year. “Goddamnit, Levi. You know I’m trying to watch my figure right now and you’re not helping.” “I’m trying to watch it too and I think it looks just fine.” Seated at the head was chairman and former recording artist, Levi Ackerman. Second generation rockstar who hailed from a long line of talented musicians..best known for being the lead singer of notorious band, Paradis. Who had won over twenty Grammys and seven number ones during their tenure. The man across from him, Erwin Smith was his best friend and bandmate. The COO. Along with Miche Zacharius, who was also at the table. The lead drummer turned director of marketing. He was a genius when it came to advertising for these artists. He could take any budget and make it look as if it were worth millions. Perhaps, the most inquisitive mind there was the woman next to him and perhaps, his favorite person in the entire company. Vivian James-Ackerman. The Queen of Neo-Soul, five time Grammy winner and his beautiful wife of ten years..she was not only a generational talent with a sound inspiring many songs today; a creative director working on the set of many videos but a mentor to AMG’s biggest star, EJ the Don.

“You two are a mess..so, what are we gonna do about this little situation? We have PalmFest right around the corner and two of our biggest stars are currently out of commission. Think we can convince them to perform?”

“Not to worry, lovebug. I’m sure they’ll come around. Right, Levi?”

Next to Erwin was his beautiful wife of twenty years, Deanna Smith. She was a renowned R&B singer with a powerhouse voice for many years before trading in her sultry lyrics and silky vocals for the title of vice director of marketing. Her and Erwin had collabed on many tracks. Including one that was the talk of the tabloids, saying that it was far too ‘provocative’ for their time. But innovative, as it was the first time rock and R&B had meshed together and topped the charts.

“They damn well better or they’ll all find themselves out of a job. This is the first time in AMG history we’ll be hosting something of this caliber. Three days of music, entertainment..hell, if we pull this off, we might surpass Rolling Loud or Coachella in a couple years. Not to mention the cash it’ll bring in. Whatever those brats have going on, they better sort it out and quick.” When the president spoke, his word was absolute and everyone had done their part to make his vision come to life. Glancing around the table, they all nodded in agreement but among the tribe, there was always one person going against the grain. “Speaking of…” pressing his glass back to the table, Miche chimed in and added to the conversation; addressing the elephant in the room.. “..you know that niece of yours is one hell of a manager, Levi. She’s recruited some real heavy hitters in the past couple years. It’s hard to believe that someone so young has done the work she has..” as he continued talking, no one could attest to that. Mikasa was the top of her peer class in many areas. She was super talented. However, Director Zacharius had his reservations. “Even so, I’m a little concerned about her after news of her little outburst the other day. I mean, with something as huge as this on the line..how can we be certain she’s equipped to handle it? Are you sure we can leave her in charge of such a huge event?” His inquiry caused eyebrows to rise on each side. But as always, Levi remained steadfast, stoic and calm..twirling a pen between his fingers, he’d merely smirk and lean up before speaking.

“I’ll admit, she is quite the firecracker when she wants to be. Even as a little girl, she was a force and I’ll admit…the kid’s had her moments. Ones that have me doubtful of how well she could handle all of this pressure. The last thing I’d ever want is to see her or AMG collapse under the weight. Running a business is hard work..overseeing so many different people and ensuring that things run smoothly. CEO, chief operator, directors or managers. Nobody comes by these titles easily. All of it is a group effort and requires a lot of skill.”

as he continued with his speech, he’d clasp his hands together and take a stern look around the table..making one thing abundantly clear:

“With that being said, there’s no one more qualified to not only oversee this festival but one day, this company as well. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t take it easy on her, never have and I damn sure won’t now. I also won’t coddle her. This is the test to prove she’s worth her salt and that she’s capable of being a true leader. She screws up then she’s out the door but I believe as always, she’ll pull through for us and make the best of her talents. I trust that you all will place the same amount of faith I have in her and assist as much as possible.” and that was enough for everyone else! Of course, the co-sign would come from the one person who housed enthusiasm in their veins as if they needed it to breathe. “Well I think Mikasa is more than capable and I’m sure she’s gonna do amazing things. Let’s just help her with whatever we need to make this a success.”

Zoe Hange, nightclub owner and interim data analyst; in charge of ensuring that the budgets were in order. As they all reached that consensus, they felt confident in proceeding with the fun part and that was planning the festival. Getting all the acts, deciding the staff and of course, who would be performing! But as they all flipped through their files and scrolled their iPads with presentations on the screen, Vivian would lean over and ask her husband about one more burning question on her mind..

“You know, Eren would make a great addition to this lineup. I think we should make one more effort to get him on board.”

“If you want to go grovel to that brat, be my guest. As far as I’m concerned, he has one more strike before I drop his ass for good. Money and sales aside.” Levi uttered without so much as even lifting his head. But Vivian wasn’t as ready to give up on her protege. And instead, proposed something else..

“I’ll go pay him a visit. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my little mentee anyways. I miss him.” And all Levi could do was laugh because she knew that Vivian looked at EJ as more than just a former backup singer or pianist, she thought of him like her own son and treated him as such so if he were in any type of distress, she’d do whatever to solve it. He also knew there was no arguing with her when she got her mind set on something! Snickering, the president would just scribble down his signature on a few documents as the rest of the table conversed among themselves.

“Well, I trust your judgment, sweetheart. Whatever you think is best. But remember, we only have a month so we don’t have any time to waste on him or anyone else.” With that, she knew she had all the time she needed to make this work. Tomorrow, she’d be heading to his Miami Beach mansion to not only convince him to headline PalmFest.

but ensure his well being above all else.

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*: .･*:｡.･*:｡.･

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Nikaposting Pt 2: Symbology & Syncretism

This is the second of a series of posts about Nika & associated religious practice in the One Piece world. As I write and post the rest of the series, I’ll add links to this header.

Pt 1: Crypto-Religion | Pt 3: Joyboy was Shandian | Pt 4: Sun God Tropes

Enormous credit to @oriigami for being my discussion partner through all of this and having a substantial influence on the final product. Check out our ao3 series Joyful for a narrative rather than analytical take on the Nika tradition, and definitely go read her OP blog @kaizokuou-ni-naru for meta and translation fun facts.

-

So About That Sun Symbol (and all those sun gods)

Context note: This post assumes you’ve read pt 1. If you haven’t, the TLDR is that the Nika cult is best categorized as a crypto-religion and may not ever have existed outside of a cryptic and oral form.

There’s a lot of sun gods in One Piece. And there’s a lot of appearances of that sun symbol we discussed briefly in pt 1, with the disconnected rays. This post will cover that symbol, the survival of non-Kuma Nika cult branches, and the proliferation of sun gods across the One Piece world.

The sun symbol can be found everywhere, in what seems at first to be a wildly disparate collection of places. There are a number of borderline cases, so I’ll be defining the “Nika sun symbol” as being any symbol with a central circle, disconnected rays, and four- or eight-fold radial symmetry. This leaves us the below list (images of the majority of these instances can be found in this very helpful post):

The Kuma-Bonney/Buccaneer version found in his church and on the amulet he left for her (8 circular rays) ; this is our basic template for the symbol

The Alabasta national symbol (8 droplet-shaped rays; the droplets seem to be drawn at various different orientations depending on the panel)

The Kozuki crest (8 circular rays in the center of a bird in the center of another circle also there’s some sprouts or something)

The Shandian crest (8 circular rays inside a larger circle, also the central circle contains the kanji for kami/god)

The Sun Pirates’ mark (4 more traditional flaring rays; the rays seem to be drawn inconsistently, especially in the anime)

There’s also Ace’s dagger, which has the basic template version, but one can assume he bought that thing in Alabasta or something like that.

From this we can conclude that the sun with disconnected rays is not exclusively a Nika symbol- in fact I would be surprised if it was, because of how prominently it was displayed in Kuma’s church (see the discussion in pt 1). However, Alabasta, Shandora, and Wano are all poneglyph countries, and were all involved in some way or another in [incomprehensible void century muttering]. I would be extremely unsurprised if the sun with disconnected rays wasn’t a more widely-spread popular symbol among [void century muttering] countries back then, which was adopted by Nika worshippers as their secret symbol around that time and simultaneously retained in more benign form by certain nations as an element of their national symbology.

(Sidenote: If you were unaware, Oda snagged this symbol from a castle in his hometown and clearly just seems to enjoy drawing it. However that doesn’t matter to us in meta analysis land. We continue.)

The Nika cult absolutely survived outside Kuma’s family: at the very least, among slaves on Mariejois. There’s a very high chance Fisher Tiger heard Nika stories while enslaved- the compositional similarity of the Sun Pirates’ mark to the base Nika symbol, Jinbe’s pissed off refusal to answer any of Who’s-Who’s questions, Fisher Tiger’s own status as a warrior of liberation, and of course, the Sun Pirates’ name and the importance of the sun to the residents of Fishman Island all point in this direction.

The proliferation of the Nika sun symbol across the world also points, to me, to at least pockets of the Nika cult potentially surviving in cryptic form across the world, like Kuma’s family did, with various levels of conscious awareness about what their rituals and symbols actually mean and what secret seditious knowledge they’re actually carrying.

However! All that said! Not all sun gods are Nikas- At least, not completely.

Upon their arrival at Egghead Island, Dorry and Broggy identified Luffy as the Sun God. However, I contend that Nika was not originally Elbaf’s sun god.

In expository Nika dialogue, Nika is specifically cited as a god of slaves (& as an ethnic or cultural god of the buccaneer people), and the giants as far as we know are (1), not a traditionally enslaved people nor particularly easy to enslave, (2), are based on Vikings & have their own pantheon which includes a god of war, & (3), while I can absolutely see how a tradition of a prolonged fast > feast festival would have evolved around a Nika figure, it does still feel a little strange. That’s supposed to be a Luffy-alike!

Besides this, the Shandian pantheon also includes a sun god, and I think it’s reasonable to assume that the sun god in question existed prior to any awakened user of the Nika fruit running around causing issues (although, more on my thoughts about Joyboy and Shandora in pt 3). Human sacrifice traditions also feel about as odd for a Luffy figure as fasting does, and while obviously Luffy, Joyboy, and Nika aren’t the same person, with the way One Piece’s narrative conventions work they’re probably quite similar.

Solar deities are the lynchpins of many if not most traditions in the real world. Sun’s a very notable noticable thing that follows a set course across the sky and brings light and life! And especially in One Piece, where the sun is also a critical thematic element and motif, I would be surprised if the majority of One Piece cultures hadn’t developed their own sun gods at some point or other.

So, all that said, why were Dorry and Broggy calling Luffy Sun God? Syncretism.

Not every god has a mythical zoan or the things would be wildly more common- only gods and figures with, as @oriigami put it while we were talking about this, a particularly potent wish attached to them. Even fewer gods have awakened mythical zoan users around. So when an awakened user of a sun god’s mythical zoan is running around (and particularly, a sun god with an incredibly potent wish attached, because Nika is a god of liberation as well as the sun, and it’s a god that people wish they could be and emulate as a matter of course), it’s easy to fold them into your mythology as your sun god. Tradition is very malleable! He’s the sun, even if he’s not exactly how you traditionally pictured it.

Traditions are very good at working with what they get, and at the moment what they get is a smiling, laughing pirate captain and liberator of slaves. What could be better?

#nikaposting #sun god nika #gear 5 #opmeta #meta tag #zephflix original #if i hadn't dropped out of college i'd be a religious studies major and this tag is how you know

[genericpuff]

alright so this is a post I've been wanting to write up for a little while now, but I was waiting on permission from a third party to post DM's (censored, of course). That permission has since returned with a yes, soooo

LET'S TALK ABOUT RACHEL'S HIRING PROCESSES-

okay this isn't gonna be as comprehensive as I'm making it sound BUT I've mentioned before on this page (albeit briefly and it's long since been buried) that I actually applied to be a background artist for Rachel a couple years ago, I think it was around the midpoint of S2, and it was (obviously) before I turned to the dark side of crit-n-shit-posting. I never got an email back, so that was that. I'd like to think there's a parallel universe out there where instead of joining the antiLO/ULO community, I became an assistant for Rachel and remained a fan. Enjoy that fridge horror thought.

That said, while I didn't get a response, someone on reddit mentioned that they did:

And they were kind enough to share further details with me in DM's.

Right off the bat, I'm fairly certain they were applying to the same ad I was (as it was a posting that Rachel had made on Twiter and the approximate years line up).

All that aside, considering what Rachel's process is like with her assistants (from what we've discussed here in GREAT detail), it's not shocking in the slightest that the vibe of working with Rachel from the very beginning was "IDK what I'm looking for".

Buuut that's not the end of the exchange because it gets better.

Mind you, this was back in 2019 and it was the experience of one user, so it doesn't necessarily reflect every assistant on the team or how Rachel does things down to the last detail. But it's pretty damning enough that you can still see the evidence of this kind of workflow in current LO 4 years later. If anything she's continued to operate with a rapidly declining pipeline because the art just keeps getting worse and worse.

Part me of wants to say that this could be on Webtoons, as they don't offer support to creators to have assistants. Creators have to pay for their assistants completely out of pocket, split from the income they make from Webtoons. This is why so many creators often don't have assistants or their 'assistants' are also their co-creators (see: Nevermore, which is drawn and written by two people working together).

But Rachel has an average of four assistants per episode, sometimes as many as eight in some cases (though it's been a while since that's happened so I won't really count it for this post).

That means Rachel's team is typically made up of five people, including herself, and that's not including the recent addition of copy editors (but that balances out with the times when Amy Kim isn't contributing , she tends to pop in and out).

Now, she's not the only person on WT with a team of this size, there are others with comparable teams if not bigger ones, but NONE of them seem to operate with as much inconsistency as LO does, and that's not on the assistants, that's on Rachel. She's said in interviews that she always wanted to be a director and that making LO on Webtoons was her way of achieving that, but she doesn't seem to have the integrity or leadership skills necessary to take charge when the team isn't working in sync. You don't see any of these insane art art inconsistencies in webtoons like The Kiss Bet or Tower of God (though they have their own problems, the art isn't one of them), and there are webtoons operating without a team at all that are drawing circles around LO right now, like Nevermore (which is, by the way, also edited by Bre Boswell, same as LO).

Now, that's not to say there isn't struggling underneath the surface, the creators of Nevermore have stated how difficult it is to work for Webtoons as it is, especially as creators who don't have assistants. But how is the #1 comic on the platform failing to meet the standards that come with its labels and awards? Why are the exceptionally better comics being drawn by 1-2 people not getting the attention or opportunities they deserve from the platform? And why does Rachel Smythe, one of the highest paid creators on the platform, still seem to struggle with managing a team of artists after five years of publication on Webtoons? Why does she choose to have a large team if she can't pay them adequately? Why have a large team at all if she's not going to utilize their skills properly? To further lighten the load of work onto others?

Really, it just goes to show the lack of care and respect all around - for the self, for the work, and for those who are pushing out the work and meeting the deadlines, whose reputations and potential are being dragged down with the comic itself.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus

[eliyips]

HOW DO YOU MAKE X SO FRIENDSHAPED?!

But also genuinely curious about the design translation from the actual skins to your interpretations due to the small but mighty details added in

Infodump as hard as you want!

If i ever pass up an opportunity to talk about my X design, it will be because I am either dead, or dying!!! neither are true at time of posting, so here you go! I will be going over my ENTIRE design process for Xisuma, starting with my initial design:

My initial design for Xisuma wasn't anything special, in my opinion. Most of what I included was directly ripped from the classic Doomslayer. Though, the face scars were inherited from fanon, of course. :) The changes that I did make were in service of having things make more sense for Xisuma. Namely, the belt buckle, and the fabric covering the arms...

The belt buckle is simple - bullets didn't really make sense as a design motif, all considered - but the fabric is more complicated. I have a couple different ideas about why Xisuma wears the suit, but I haven't settled one way or the other on some of the specifics, so forgive me if I'm a bit vague. Ultimately, It is just my impression that X is not comfortable having his body visible more than it needs to be, whether that be for health-related reasons or for personal/emotional reasons. I don't intend to ever draw Xisuma with his helmet off, because of that. To me, it feels like a violation of boundaries. To be perfectly clear though, that's just for me - more power to other artists who draw him without the helmet/armor! :)

By the time I was full-on fixated on Xisuma, I realized I was unsatisfied with this first pass at his design. Mainly, in regards to the helmet. So I did more work on it!

I feel like my re-design process for the helmet is a good example of the importance of using reference. :) I did a lot of unsatisfactory sketches before pulling up pictures of real helmets, at which point I feel like I settled on something I was happy with very quickly.

Specifically, I referenced motocross helmets! My choice of reference was mostly driven by my passing interest in sports equipment design, though motocross helmets are similarly bulky and have the same distinct mouthpiece as X's helmet, so I think it was a good choice. I also feel like the pixels at the top of Xisuma's skin can be pretty easily read as the brim of a helmet, so it works out!

Other than the motocross helmet influence, I also made the choice to add tubing to the sides and back of the helmet. This rolls with my headcanons about the purpose of the helmet, connecting to air tanks on his back! I also think it helps to distinguish him from the doomslayer, in addition to the new helmet shape.

The only other changes I made were to the helmet's palette, added a few additional grey tones for contrast, and the positioning of his scars. I decided I wanted them to be a little off-center, leaning towards his left eye. I'm pretty inconsistent with how I draw the scars though, lol, so it changed again by the next time I drew him.

At this point my design is mostly settled for him, and I don't expect it to change very significantly any time soon. I don't have much else to say about it, but I listed the other iterative changes I made to the design above! I figure I will continue making small tweaks to his design every time I draw him :)

That said... I have yet to answer your initial question! So I will answer it now:

"HOW DO YOU MAKE X SO FRIENDSHAPED?!"

My answer is that it's (almost) all in the eyes!!! I have already talked pretty extensively about Xisuma's eyes. So I won't dwell for too long! In short, human facial recognition is very closely tied to the eyes. The ability to see the eyes of a character clearly affords you a lot of flexibility when it comes to making a design seem approachable, or "friend-shaped." I painted over a screenshot of doomguy to illustrate my point!

My drawings tend towards being a little cutesy, of course, so that helps :) but you can see that the bright, saturated color, big distinct eyes, and less harsh expression all contribute to making him seem like he is less of a threat, despite this literally just being the doomslayer.

Another thing that helps is, again, related to the style I draw in. My art is very "clean" looking, not gritty. I use a lot of soft shape language and don't texture things too heavily. With Xisuma specifically, I also make no effort to make him seem intimidating. I use very neutral angles when drawing him, I don't frame him in a way that makes him seem intimidating or imposing, I don't pose him too confidently or angrily. Because he's not that kind of guy! Though it would be an interesting challenge to try and make him look as intimidating as possible :) I certainly think he could be quite scary, if he wanted to be. Just a matter of what I'm trying to convey.

... I think that's all I have to say for now! Once again, blown away by all the nice things people have to say about my Xisuma design and my art. Everyone here has been so kind and encouraging, and I really appreciate that. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to yell about Xisuma! If you have follow up questions, by all means, I am ready to answer :)

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #xisumavoid #xisuma #character design #askeliyips #if you also can see the helmet brim on xisuma's skin please let me know #could be a mirage #mcyt

[xcalciumx]

Baby, it’s Cold Outside | Sirius Black x Reader

this is just Sirius with Remus & James mentioned and implied to be poly (i need to build up the courage for all three, kay?)

Word Count | 1.4k

Warnings | smut yeah, Sirius being kinda hot kinda annoying, consensual, some curses, badly written smut lol, inconsistencies, Sirius grabs you by the neck but it ain't choking, dirty talk

Summary | You and Sirius fuck by the Black Lake, except you’re really hungry and he needs to get to quidditch practice. 

a/n | this is the first thing i'm ever posting to Tumblr, what the fuck. So bad, I’m so sorry. ♡

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘

“Slowly baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

The sound of groaning filled the air around the Black Lake as you and Sirius, well, railed each other like animals. 

“But Siri,” you paused to let out a whimper as he hit a spot deep inside you. “Dinners in like ten minutes, c’mon!” As you whined, Sirius held a firmer grip around your waist, starting to control your bouncing movements. Hearing your words, he glanced up at you, half-smile and lidded eyes adorning his face.

“Dinners right ‘ere, baby. Whaddya’ mean?” He now fully smirked, grinding you hard against his cock. You moaned, unable to answer his teasing quip and instead only focusing on the lightning dancing across your skin as he sunk you onto him, over and over. However, through the foggy cloud in your mind - you did somewhat register his words and huffed a little as if to say shut up. Sirius got the memo, chuckling under his breath as he pulled your sweaty form tight against his hard chest. He started to trail kisses from your cheek, all the way down to your neck, leaving nips and sucking bruises as he went. 

Through a gasp, you managed to utter, “Don’t you have practice soon?” 

Sirius’ movements stuttered for a second before he started moving you up and down with a renewed vigour.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick, sweetheart.” 

You rolled your eyes. Of course, now he cares about the time. It shouldn’t have surprised you; those boys lived and breathed quidditch. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if they turned it into their very own religion at this rate. 

The sun hovered near the tops of the hills in the distance and the leaves of the old willow you two were under started to sway in the incoming breeze. The tree cast a dark shadow over you, outlining your closely interlocked bodies. Behind you, the Black Lake that you had just been swimming in was beginning to calm and cool down from the hot day it had just endured. Some said, if you listened close enough - you could hear the merpeople in the depths, going about their days - or well nights, or whatever it was down there. However, this was lost on both you and Sirius, as you continued your improper acts on the grass. 

Burying your head into his neck, you let out a particularly loud wail, wiggling as if to escape the intense pleasure coming from the pounding of Sirius’ dick. 

You could hear as Sirius clicked his tongue. Wrapping one large hand around your neck, he pulled your head back to look into your eyes. 

“Gotta let me see all of you, yeah? Let me see that pretty face?” He grunted, pulling you closer so that your lips touched. All you could fathom to do was moan and move your lips against his to the best of your ability. This was no problem to Sirius though, who had clear control over the situation. With one hand tangled in your locks, he gave you one last especially sloppy smooch, before nipping the soft plush of your bottom lip and grinning endearingly at you. The sweat made his raven locks stick to his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed with a distinctive crimson hue, yet he had never looked more gorgeous to you. Interrupting your blissful sight-seeing, he rasped, “Gonna come for me, sweetheart? Gonna be a good girl and come for daddy?” 

You mewled out your agreement, opening your lips to reply further. Before you could, a strong gust of wind brushed past the both of you, making you erupt in goosebumps - and not the ‘this sex is so good’ kind. You grumbled a bit, feeling the flame in your stomach begin to dwindle. The man below you was mouthwateringly good - intoxicating really - but in the past half-hour it had gotten so cold, and with no clothes on you were really feeling it. There was no way you could get into the mood when you felt like the fucking antarctic was breathing down your ass.

Sirius didn’t seem to mind, pumping his hips up to meet yours. The glossy look in his eyes and the snap of his heavy cock into you almost made you ignore the cold. Almost.

“Sirius, I’m freezing my balls off.” The Gryffindor in question looked super confused for a second, his plump lips opening as if to say something back. Although his hands loosened from your waist and came up to rub your arms, he never stopped his steady pace. “It’s freezing,” you choked out. While it was cold and your horny metre was dialled down to zero, you couldn’t deny that the pleasure was still radiating through every stiff, chilled muscle in your body. Not even the smouldering flames of sex could battle the freezing winds.

“Baby?” Sirius muttered. “You alright? Wanna stop?” The sweet tone of his voice contrasted with the furrowing of his eyebrows. He clearly didn’t want to. 

You let out an embarrassing squeak as he thrust up hard. Sirius’ eyes lit up in glee.

“Sure you don’t want more, baby? Ya’know I’ll keep ye warm.” 

Although it sounded convincing and the pleasure was still tingling your skin, you couldn’t ignore the frigid cold settling in your bones and the possibility that you were gonna come down with a fever. And being sick right before your upcoming exams? Yeah, no thanks. So, mustering your willpower and hardening your resolve, you said to Sirius,

“It is freezing out here, Sirius Black! Not to mention that I am starved,” You breathed, staring down a reluctant-looking Sirius. “Let’s go into the castle, and warm up, ‘kay?” 

“But baby-” 

“I said-” Suddenly, a thought popped into your head. “Sirius! You’re late for quidditch practice!” 

Sirius’ eyes widened, and a distraught look came over his features. Before you could even react, he had pulled out from you and was dressing back into his discarded robes. Under his breath, he was muttering something about how ‘this would do’ and that he ‘didn’t have time to get his gear’. You simply blinked, a deadpan look on your face. What the hell? Struggling to squeeze his foot into one of his shoes, Sirius suddenly seemed to remember what had just happened. He whirled around, racing over to pick up your shivering body into his arms. You felt empty from the loss of him inside you, but even more, you were just…confused. Your plan had worked that easily? 

“Sorry Sweets! I’ll make it up to ye t’night, I swear on Moony's grades!” He quickly pecked your cheeks, forehead and lips before placing you on your feet and hurrying off towards the quidditch pitch near the castle. You were unsure whether to feel anger at how fast he had just up and left you or feel pride at your successful attempt to get out of the cold. Sirius sent an apologetic look over his shoulder, waving with one hand and trying to tie back his sweaty locks with another, nearly tripping and eating shit on his way. “Also,” He called as he ran. “Maybe don’t tell Jamesie why I was late. Might have my ass for it.” 

Snapping out of the stupor you found yourself in, you just laughed and shook your head, gathering up your own strewn clothes from the ground. The lights in the castle were beginning to flicker on as the sun started to descend behind the hills and you swore that you could hear dinner calling your name. Staring after Sirius’ figure, now a black blob in the distance, you giggled once more at your idiotic boyfriend and went to find Remus. Hopefully, he was at the Great Hall for tea. And If he wasn’t? Well, he could wait because your stomach had plans that you could not deny. 

There was an uncomfortable slickness coating the inside of your thighs as you walked up to the castle’s doors, rearranging your skirt and trying to smooth down your mussed-up hair. You considered going to your dorm to clean up but shook your head, opting for food first and comfort later. 

Slithering your way through the open doors, you felt yourself melt at the toasty warmness and the delectable scent of a whole lotta’ grub. In the brightly lit room, you searched out a familiar mop of brown hair and smiled as you saw your beloved werewolf sitting further down the Gryffindor table. He had on one of his soft sweaters and looked handsome as ever as he spooned some mashed potato onto his plate. A flickering suddenly seemed to relight inside of you and you quirked an amused brow, heading towards the brunette who turned in his seat to greet you.

Perhaps he could have you for dessert while you waited for Sirius and James to get back. 

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #sirius black #marauders smut #remus lupin #james potter #marauders oneshot #marauders fanfiction #fanfic #cringe #harry potter #foodislife #sirius black smut

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

HOW TO WRITE A FINAL DRAFT

(From Someone Who’s Been Working on the Same Book for Over Ten Years)

Listen, I know what you might be thinking: “why the hell would I want advice on how to work on my final draft from someone who can’t even get her shit together for her own book?”

However, because I’ve had to re-draft my own novel so many times (Primarily due to poor outlining, lack of time and inspiration, and my own insecurities as a writer), I’ve learned a lot over the years on when to know if your book is done (or not!) and how to keep motivated. 

Just a disclaimer that these are my own tips and tricks that you may not agree with, and that everyone’s writing process is different! Don’t feel pressured to do things my way if you feel like it doesn’t work for you as a writer; everyone’s experience varies, and there are always exceptions!

1. Know If You’re Ready to Start a Final Draft

Some vocabulary for writers to know:

Content editing is a form of editing that revises the overall style, substance, and content of a story. Copyediting is a form of editing that revises grammatical, spelling, readability, continuity, and factual errors within a story.

A way I would know if I’m ready to make a final draft is if I am no longer doing major content editing on the book. This means I am no longer making major changes to the plot, characters, setting, and other facets of the book. There isn’t any re-writing of entire scenes, or major plot holes that require an overhauling of the entire book.

You know you’re ready for a Final Draft if your primary concerns are copyediting. 

Of course, with copyediting errors such as continuity, there will inevitably be some re-writing required, but I personally would not want to start a “final draft” at a stage where the book’s major plot points must be constantly changed during the editing process. 

This varies so much, from writer to writer; so my best advice is to start your final draft when you think you’re ready!

2. Consider Getting Some Beta Readers

Again, this is an incredibly complex process; some people like to have beta readers on their earlier drafts, while others like to have beta readers for their later drafts.

A beta reader is someone who reads a work of fiction before it is published in order to mark errors and suggest improvements, typically without receiving payment (although it’s nice to swap stories and beta read for each other!) You can find people willing to be beta readers all over, especially on tumblr!

Having a round of beta readers is a great opportunity to have unbiased eyes on your work, and to have people pointing out plot holes and inconsistencies that maybe you hadn’t noticed! It also gives you a much-needed break from writing your story, and helps you come back to it with fresh eyes once everyone is done.

I personally am waiting to finish my current rewrite before having a round of beta readers, and after they look it over, doing a draft of my own editing before moving on to a final draft.

(Things don’t work out the way you think they will, though—that’s life! Take as long or as little time as you need!)

3. Consider Taking a Break

In my opinion, the best way to start editing a final draft is doing so with fresh eyes. After finishing your second-to-last draft, shelf your project for a few weeks (or maybe a few months!) and move on to another work. Then, you can come back to your story as if you were a new reader, and catch mistakes that you may have missed if you were still in the groove of writing!

This can sometimes be dangerous for writers who struggle with inspiration and getting back into things, though, so do whatever works best for you!

4. Tips to Keep Inspired

How to Overcome Writer’s Block

How to Write Consistently

Writer’s block and lack of inspiration will be your greatest enemies on your final draft! Oftentimes, people lose steam once they see the finish line is ahead. Check out the tips in the above post to help keep you on task!

5. Learn How to Stop Editing: It Will NEVER be Perfect

You are your own worst critic. You will always find something to tweak every single time you comb through your own writing; hell, even published authors sometimes read their own books and think of ways they could’ve improved certain sentences or scenes! Understand that “Final Draft” does not mean “Devoid of Flaws.”

Sometimes, the best thing you can do for your book is to know when you need to stop overworking it and send it out to the world. Writers who struggle with liking their writing can find this especially difficult, which is why it can be helpful to have beta readers or a writing buddy who can put their foot down and say: it’s done! You’re ready!

Hope this helped, and happy writing! I believe in you!

#writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing reference #writing resource #writing resources #writing references #creative writing #final draft #writeblr #booklr

[i-just-like-goats]

Gojo x Female Reader

Summary: Gojo's soulmate is an assassin sent to kill him

Warnings: choking, attempted murder, mentions of death

WC: 1.4k

Part 2

A/N: this is my 4th time posting this and I am so sorry. The first 3 were because of tags, this one is just cos I noticed an inconsistency in the original but tumblr wouldn't let me save my edits😭

The first time Gojo met you, he was sure he was in love.

There you were buying kikufuku, with that soft smile of yours. You captivated him in a way that no other woman had. How could he not fall in love?

And when you turned to look at him gawking at you, you smiled so brightly that Gojo's heart was immediately touched.

"Hello. Sorry, was I in your way?"

"Not at all,"

You smiled so sweetly and held his arm so gently when he offered to walk you home. Fushiguro and the finger would have to wait. He was so infatuated with every action you did that he only narrowly missed the knife you swung at his chest.

"This usually how you greet the men that walk you home?"

"Only for you love,"

Perhaps it was unwise for him to develop feelings for you when you were trying to kill him. Yet the way you were holding your own against his attacks and your raw beauty had him debating which side he was on. Maybe not to that extent, but you were definitely confusing him.

Which reminded him he needed to get back to Fushiguro. He'd definitely be scolded by his student.

"As much as I'd love to continue seeing your beautiful face, I've got somewhere to be. See you!"

"Hey!"

The second time you met Gojo, he almost didn't recognise you. Your disguise was impeccable. Even people who had known you for years couldn't recognise you whenever you put this disguise on. Yet he somehow managed to call out to you in that cheerful voice.

"Hey! Fancy seeing you here!"

You grimaced at his loud voice. Must he draw attention to the both of you in this way? You forced a smile and poured him his glass of wine he had ordered.

"Your red wine sir." You smiled.

"Come on now. No need to be so formal with me. We're so-"

One waiter had tripped and knocked Gojo's elbow, causing his wine to spill over his front.

"I apologise for my incompetence sir! I accept any punishment you see fit!"

"It's quite alright. This jacket is dark, so the stain won't be visible and it was in need of a wash anyway,"

The waiter bowed deeply and continued apologising profusely while you groaned and glared daggers at your coworker. Your last batch of poison had been in that glass of wine. The next shipment of ingredients for your poison wouldn't be until next month. What a drag this mission was.

"Say, why don't we catch up once your shift is over? I'll wait for you,"

A perfect opportunity. You smiled again.

"Of course,"

Hours passed and true to his word, Gojo had remained sitting at his table until it was closing time. Your manager had him wait outside for you while the restaurant was cleaned, providing you with an opportunity to surprise him.

You leapt deftly onto Gojo's back, wrapped your arms around his neck.

"What a nice sur-"

And attempted to choke him. He struggled in your grip.

"How cute! What a beautiful couple! Would you mind if I took a photo of the two of you?"

You immediately stopped choking him. You ground your teeth but smiled nonetheless. Gojo took several deep breaths

"I don't mind, do you honey?"

"No, of course not love,"

"You might want to loosen up, your boyfriend there looked like he was struggling to breathe,"

"That was the point," You muttered.

Gojo chuckled and posed for the photo.

"Great! Thank you!"

With that, the person walked off content with the photo. You began to constrict his air supply again, but he flipped you onto the ground over his shoulder. With a groan, you sat up and rubbed your back.

"Was that necessary?"

"A bit of payback for the second attempt on my life,"

"Alright. Well I'll be off then,"

"Leaving already?"

"Can't have you knowing where I live, otherwise you'd annoy me every day,"

"I would never,"

Gojo watched as you threw something at the ground, then stepped through the mist it created and vanished.

"Always coming but never staying. How cruel. Soulmate. I don't even know your name,"

The third time Gojo met you, he knew he would risk it all for you. Whatever side you were on no longer mattered to him. Had you been on the side of the sorcerers, perhaps things would have been much easier.

"Soulmate! Are you hurt?"

"Oh no, I'm perfectly fine thank you. The curse bit me, which took a chunk out of my leg and it doesn't hurt at all. I'm enjoying the pain so very much you idiot,"

"Alright alright I get it. No need to be so moody soulmate,"

"Stop calling me your soulmate,"

"Why? Don't you know that the red string wrapped around our fingers means we're soulmates?"

"I know what soulmates are stupid,"

Gojo pouted, "Why aren't you calling me love anymore?"

"Because I'm no longer trying to seduce you. I just need to kill you,"

"So blunt. But you don't need to kill me since you've been fired,"

"What are you doing?"

Gojo made no answer and hovered his hand up and down your leg, assessing the damage.

"Hey this isn't funny. I didn't consent to this. Ow!"

You clenched your jaw tightly as a burning sensation erupted from where Gojo placed his hand on your leg.

"There. Wasn't so bad now was it soulmate?"

"I told you to stop calling me that,"

"I can't, unless I know your name,"

"I'm not giving it,"

"Well then sucks to be you, I'm still calling you soulmate because that's what you are,"

You muttered angrily under your breath and exhaled.

"I severely dislike you because I find you insufferable and I don't know how on earth we came to be soulmates, but thank you, for healing me,"

"How did you even get hurt?" He asked softly.

"I haven't been able to kill you. It's harming my reputation and my employer's reputation, so I guess they decided I wasn't worth keeping around anymore if I couldn't kill one man and they sent me on a suicide mission. I exorcised the curse's buddy but it's still out there,"

"Why don't you and I hunt the curse down?"

"Sure, not like I have really much else to lose anyway,"

Needless to say, you got your revenge on the curse and its owner. By the end of it, both had been in tears before you exorcised the curse and turned in its owner.

"Good thinking there. You kept us out of trouble by letting him hit you first,"

"I'm an assassin Gojo, it's only natural that I know how to get myself out of situations,"

"Right. So, want to continue our date?"

"No,"

"Come on. I'm no longer the enemy am I?"

"I may no longer be required to kill you, but like I said before: I severely dislike you,"

"Bit harsh," Gojo ran to catch up with your walking figure, "At least let me feed you tonight and make sure you've got a job,"

"Fine,"

"Great!"

You slumped into the seat across from Gojo and plugged in your earphones as Gojo ordered something for the two of you to eat.

"So why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you. I just said severely dislike,"

"Alright, so why do you severely dislike me?"

"Because you're hard to kill,"

"Is that it? Shouldn't be too hard to get you to like me. You lost your job because of me, so all I need to do is get you a new job. How would you like to teach at Jujutsu Tech. I saw your physical capabilities, such little cursed energy but your fighting is remarkable. The students, Maki in particular, would benefit greatly from your expertise,"

"And you still try to help and befriend me even after I tried to kill you. Twice. You're not mad? Not even in the slightest?"

"A bit annoyed, definitely, but the determination wins,"

You took a sip from your drink, deep in thought. How could he be so kind to you after all you put him through?

"Determination to do what?"

"To at least get a friend out of this,"

He lifted his right hand, gesturing to his pinky.

"We're soulmates for a reason, we're not destined to hate each other, so I want to see if we can make this work, but baby steps. So please consider taking the job,"

"Alright, I'll teach the young sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech. Just know that I'm only doing this because I need to financially sustain myself somehow,"

"Excellent!"

Gojo shook your hand enthusiastically.

"Can't wait to teach alongside my new co-worker!"

You buried your face into your hands and groaned. There's no way he'd let you back out now that you agreed. This year would be an interesting one that's for sure.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hello! Love your blog - please allow me to bring back a topic to the table:

How long did Daniel spend with Louis and Armand back in the 70s? I see a lot of speculation that some version of DM takes place back then. And, it would be very dramatically compelling to have Daniel realize that he’s not just lost a night of memories (which I think is what he believes presently?) but actually several months/a whole relationship/a side of himself. However, in every new clip from the 70s thus far the trio seems to be wearing the same clothes as from the flashback in episode six. Also, I think in some official interviews it sounds like they are referring to a single event when they are talking about the first interviews. Of course, this could be a deliberate obfuscation as to not spoil anything…

I read a theory speculating that Daniel will early on in the season remember a few flashes of Armand. Specifically that after having saved him from Louis, Armand basically considered killing him. That this is what the ”I’m the quiet you’ve been longing for…” scene is about, and that this is why Daniel at some point fears Armand (as heard in the trailer). He will probably believe that Armand must have erased his memories after Louis tried to kill him (which might also be just what happened if DM doesn’t take place) as he learns of the extent of Armand’s mind ability (which could be connected to learning about the Théâtre des Vampire as they are probably hypnotizing their victims?). Listening to Louis’ and hearing his inconsistencies he will probably put two and two together and realize and help Louis realize that Armand has interfered with his mind.

If DM happened in the past, this could result in a really explosive ending in which Daniel first believes that he has finally come to understand all there is to know of the story between Louis and Armand and also of his first encounter with the two, but then as more memories comes to the surface he is faced with the realization that there’s a lot more to it.

(1/2)

Hey!

Glad you like :))

Sooooo I think that the Devil's Minion of the past will likely unfold pretty much the same as in the books, namely the hunt across the globe, and then years of relationship.

However, I do not think that will be something we will see everything of already. AND I think that both Devil's Minion and Lesmand have been mostly kept out of the "general trailer" as not to confuse the more casual viewers. So that is nothing I would go by, actually.

Daniel remembering is - contrary to Louis! - a deliberate thing (at least from Armand's side - I do believe Louis also tries to remember deliberately, but Armand probably does not really want him to, which... I get. Ahem.). Others have posted about this too, but the medicine he gets should have other effects - and the sheer presence of Fareed means there's... something going on.

I think he will continue to remember, more and more, and there is a high chance that he will remember Louis, too. Personally I think that it was not Armand who erased Daniel's memories (contrary to Louis'). This could also be the reason why for Louis some bleed through... and for Daniel they didn't. (But we'll see about that^^).

I am very sure DM did indeed happen in the past - up and until Daniel not being too healthy and wanting to be turned. And then something happened differently than in the book.

Remembering will indeed be a shock to the system for him - as you said, he more or less settled. Though his subconscious remembers. The Bosch-puzzle, the "Savage Garden" book. Set design, yes, but done on purpose. He also knows there's something that doesn't match, because he probably cannot remember where he got the bite mark.

Considering these vampires can heal these wounds... that's a visible claim. By Armand.

And yes, this is a very... insidious kind of horror. And it is a theme in the chronicles. The road to accept themselves as the monsters they are is rocky indeed.

Daniel realizing he "loved this thing" is also part of it all. (That is a quote, too^^). Daniel does not see Armand in any kind of idealized light - he sees him in his entirety. And yes, of course Armand thinks what he does best... he's not doing it out of malice. He thinks he's helping... in his own, inimitable way.

"L'amour est un monstre".

They didn't choose this headline just for Loumand on the posters :) No, as with so many things... this goes for several relationships and situations.

Armand will indeed not be able to let Daniel die, imho - but that won't be this season... I think this season will need to deal with the fallout on Louis. For Daniel and Armand that will come up still, in some kind of way.

The upcoming season will be very interesting for DM, but I doubt it will be the last - I think it will open it up, so that the truly interesting, gritty conflict can come about in the upcoming seasons :))

I for one am looking very much forward to it.

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #the devil's minion #armand #daniel molloy #devil's minion

[redfluffz]

Heyy Guys! 👋

This pinned post is an overview of my comic.

Chapter 1 - "The beginning"

Chapter 2 - "Existence" (Part 3 > 10th May)

> DeviantArt <

> Instagram <

What is it about?

"Creation" is a comic about Lucifers backstory. From his birth to his fall. It's about many phases of his life (i mean boy is already thousands? millions? of years old ... ???). It will have topics like growing up with his 6 siblings, starting a royal life with duties, finding and understanding love, fulfilling his greatest most important task – creation - and much more!

My motivation

This little comic has evolved from a wild idea to a real fun project. The idea arose when it was announced how long we still have to wait for the next Hazbin Hotel season. (No front. Seriously, no front.) And since we don't even know if Luc's story will be shown in the next season, my first thought was: "I don't want (can't) wait 4-6 years for his story". Sooo I make my own story to satisfy my brain.

I try to "hover" along the canon, to pick up theories, to consult the bible and other media in order to create a meaningful and comprehensible past for my favorite character.

Of course there will be errors or inconsistencies because I can only continue working on this fun project after work. So have mercy on me. I try to upload a part every two weeks on Friday, but I can't promise it. Sorry.

I also upload smaller comics, but please don't take them too seriously. For me these are mostly just exercises to practice the characters. And for you these might be little packs filled with good mood and a good laughter. Hopefully.

So much about the talk from my heart. I hope you have as much fun with the comic as I did/will do. See ya in hel-eh-heaven, guys!

PS: Thanks for reading to this point.

Funfact: I will change the header alongside the story.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel god #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel comic

[aihoshiino]

I honestly liked ruby a lot before. How she was so full of hope and all, then the character development she got after finding gorou's body. Even the recent part where she says she won't be like Ai and won't give up on her friends. But I think all the incest and related part ruins her character and reduces her to a simp. At least show some depth in it tho😭 like before whenever ruby talked about gorou that felt impactful. Man i miss the old ruby.

YEAH!!! This is pretty much exactly my issue as well. I know something a lot of folks have criticized about the story pre-Mainstay is that Ruby lacks development but TBH, I never really felt like Old!Ruby was a character who needed a more active arc in the way characters like Aqua and Kana did. She definitely had some Big Overhanging Issues dangling above her head that she was going to have to address eventually but on a moment to moment basis, Ruby was doing really well. She functioned best as a sort of guiding star for the characters around her, pulling them along through the force of her own positive energy and personality.

A big part of this is simply that a lot of the things that made Sarina's life miserable are not actually issues for Ruby anymore. She's healthy, she's surrounded by family and friends who love and support her, she's getting to pursue her dream and even has a pretty healthy relationship with her memories of and grief for Ai. That's not to say her history as Sarina has no effect on her, of course: her bull-headed stubbornness and willingness to charge on into things no questions asked comes specifically and explicitly from the ways she was disempowered and lacking agency in her past life and moments like her getting upset about Aqua no longer eating dinner with them on Sundays during the LoveNow filming pretty clearly stem from her issues with abandonment and lacking familial care. But her environment and the support system she has as Ruby very clearly did a lot to help her organically heal and start moving on.

New!Ruby really feels like a retcon in that regard, like Akasaka suddenly scrabbled to go "oh actually Ruby was ALWAYS secretly fucked up!!!!" for the sake of drama and ramped everything about her up to an 11 to try and convey this but the end result ultimately just feels inconsistent. I know I link this post basically every time I talk about Ruby these days, but @all-of-her-light's Ruby and the Unplayed Role essay really is the best at breaking down all these differences and inconsistencies and why it is they feel so jarring. But one of the things that stands out to me is the ramping up of the intensity of her feelings for Gorou.

Some of this makes perfect sense within the context of the narrative; finding his DESSICATED FUCKING SKELETON jesus CHRIST and realising he'd been murdered by the very same person who killed her beloved mother absolutely makes sense as the impetus for her feelings to go into overdrive. But as of the Mainstay arc onwards, we have continually gotten backfill that implies she has always been operating on this level of intensity, elevating Gorou to a position of importance in her life that matches or even exceeds Ai to a degree that feels retconny.

Actually, now that I've articulated that, I think that key difference is the core of what makes Old and New Ruby feel so split to me. Old Ruby absolutely still adored and deeply valued Gorou and wanted to be reunited with him, but she was nowhere near as emotionally dependant on the idea of him as New Ruby seems to be. Old Ruby was characterized much more strongly in relation to Ai, both in the sense of love for her as her mother and her legacy as an idol and while this is still true to a degree for New Ruby, the manga frames Gorou as being just as if not more important than Ai as a factor in Ruby's motivations for becoming an idol, when it really hadn't been framed that way prior to a certain point in the manga.

Ultimately, it's just kind of frustrating. Like you, I really loved Old Ruby and I think New Ruby is just kind of a flanderized and flattened version of her - though the story pays some lip service to her uglier and more complicated emotions, the story's failure to genuinely and seriously interrogate them and its consistency in reducing her to a gag character just makes her feel so much less lively and interesting that Old Ruby, even if Old Ruby was (at least on paper) a much more simple character. It really feels like the last time the story genuinely took Ruby seriously was prior to 123 when we were getting teased with the idea of her meeting Marina again but that thread has since been completely dropped and I'll be shocked if it gets so much as mentioned again.

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk asks #onk spoilers #ruby hoshino

[van1llam1lkk]

Little Lamb

[ sfw | TW ; Size difference, Erisa isn't a human, Sexual undertones, Descriptions of Violence, Power Imbalance, Cult implications, Brief mention of terrorism, general Yandere content]

Double post today cause I forgot to post yesterday

Female Yandere x GN reader

If Erisa were to be honest, she didn’t have a clue what humans were on about. With their constant talk and inconsistent morals— They just seemed so strange and confusing.

And so it just frustrates her when she has to deal with one, maybe if she were in their shoes their attitude towards her would make more sense. As she gets the sense that maybe not everyone is used to seeing a 12' giant adorned with four arms.

But that reason did little to ease her annoyance, not only were you people inconsistent, annoying, and chatty. But you were so unreasonably easy to persuade. In most cases, she didn't even have to do much, as her 'lovely' followers would willingly commit terrorism without the promises of wealth, motivated purely by the want to be acknowledged by their goddess.

So when she first met you, all wide-eyed and nervous, unsure if you should be grateful to be in her presence or scared — Like the many followers before you. She expected to be anything but infatuated with you. Finding your discomfort around her cute in a strange sense, like a sweet, little lamb.

So when you tried applying your insignificant little Human values onto her, a being who had literally witnessed the American Revolution she couldn't help but snicker.

Really, it wasn’t her fault that she found such a small being like yourself absurdly cute. So fragile and tiny that it would take practically no effort for her to hold you down, despite your constant struggles and cries.

Of course, She'd never do anything against your will— unless she wanted to, But that's gotta count for something!

The urge within her was undeniable—a longing to cradle your fragile being against her cool, divine skin, sheltered beneath the folds of her Yukata, where none but her hands could touch you. And the fact that you were unaware of her thoughts, both violent and provocative ones and the great amount of effort she puts in so she doesn't act on them drove her crazy. She felt more like a dog in heat than a divine being when it came to you.

She tilts her head in response as you talked about your day, her attention being feigned as she wasn't paying attention to a single word you were saying. Your hands work behind your back to tie the apron neatly around your waist, You were making something — A tiramisu if she remembered correctly, she never understood why humans were so delicate that they needed a consistent supply food to survive.

When she first made an impression on your species it definitely confused her how often her followers needed to eat. Often complaining when there isn't enough food despite eating five hours ago.

As she watched you work, her eyes trailed down from your face to your hands. They were so fragile, so easily breakable. It would be so easy to snap your fingers one by one, to see the look on your face as your pain muddled in with your rising fear.

She wanted to savor every inch of you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a memory of what once was. She could practically taste your fear from that one possibility, your heart racing faster and faster with each passing moment as human instinct pushed you to try to fight for your life.

But as much as she wanted to indulge in her fantasies, Erisa knew that she couldn't. Not yet, at least. It's been awhile since someone as pretty as you came into her grasp and she didn't want to so carelessly throw it away. And so she continued to sit there on the plush floor mats, listening to your meaningless chatter and enjoying the way your body moved as you worked.

Eventually, you finished your task and turned to face her, a smile on your face. Erisa returned it, though her mind was elsewhere. Setting the plate down onto the tray and taking your seat next to her she watches you eat with mild interest, absentmindedly nodding her head and agreeing with everything you were saying as you chatted.

Her gaze occasionally dropping towards your lips, a habit of hers she'll never truly understand. She wasn't sure if her way of releasing these pent-up thoughts was just by being a degenerate. Acting so filthy like the damned humans she herself detested, but the imagery of having you sitting atop her thigh— Whispering sweet nothings against your ears as large hands hold your waist steady, wasn't something she entirely hated the idea of.

Stretching out her arms — careful to not hit your head, she stands up, her second pair of arms dusting off her robe as she announced she'd be leaving to deal with some business.

It was a blatant lie, but you didn't need to know that. And as much as she doesn't wanna leave you, seeing the hint of disappointment in your eyes whenever she leaves you makes up for it. Doe eyes staring up at her with brows slightly furrowed in frustration at her insistence to work —If only you knew it was just an excuse to get away from you before she did something stupid. but despite your frustration you still with that sweet tone of yours bid her farewell.

She swears your an angel sent from the heavens themselves. A blessing only meant to be received by her own four hands.

And to think that you were wholly hers— Truly a testament.

#Fawn | Erisa #fanfic #writing #female original character #fiction #yandere content #monster romance #size difference #dark romance #dark fic #cw intrusive thoughts #power imbalance #mention of death #cw terrorism #tw violence #yandere cw #yandere x reader #female yandere #tall oc #yandere oc #yandere x darling #gender neutral reader #gn reader #female yandere x reader #oc x reader #cw cults #cw religious themes #darkfic #yandere #Erisa is a violent mf in this