#help marcus is slowly domesticating her

[hellishjoel]

a visu videre (a sight to see)

4k / pairing: general marcus acacius x lucilla acacius x f!personal attendant

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summary: Before Marcus leaves to lead his army to a distant province, he teaches you how to please his wife, Lucilla, while he’s away - and sees what you’ve learned upon his return. 

warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), porn without plot, threesome (fmf), swearing, size kink, free use, spanking, rough sex, praise & degradation kink with accompanied dirty talk, pet names (marcus uses sweet girl, lucilla uses darling girl), oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstim (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, spitting in the mouth is romantic, inexperienced/virgin!reader, unprotected p in v, reader is described having hair and wears a stola, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n

A/N:  I'm very thankful to @pedgito and her writing of Marcus in little dove! I'm usually a bit hesitant to write new characters whose lore I know literally nothing about, but we all saw those vanity fair exclusives, how could I not! thank you Ali for the encouragement and honoring "fuck it we ball" - graphics made by @saradika-graphics!

You have never lived as a free woman, not until beginning your servitude to General Marcus Acacius and his wife, Lucilla.

Averse to owning slaves, they filled their home with paid servants. From domestics to weapons and armorers, the high-profile family required additional hands.

Their home in the city, a magnificent testament to the General’s success and high status, was a reflection of the family’s opulent wealth and esteemed social standing. Their domus in the city of Rome was a sight to behold, and as a personal attendant, you were entrusted with knowing every nook and cranny. 

From the preference of their foods to their nightly desires, it was your duty to fulfill.

After serving their every need, you could not help but fall in love with the pair who had gifted you a life of freedom and happiness. 

The attraction was immediate despite it feeling forbidden. It was gentle gestures at first. 

After serving a meal to the General in his study, his rough hand felt over the material of your stola, a simple dress in his family’s colors - gold to symbolize his wealth and power, lined with purple to show the high status of his military success. 

“Beautiful,” he muttered in his stolen raspy voice, his eyes gleaming as he took in your figure the belt around your waist provided. 

You felt the warmth of his hand further into the night, allowing you to sit upon his desk as his fingers and mouth worked you to a flourishing orgasm. His fingers were thick, leaving a painful turned pleasure-inducing ache that you didn’t even know was possible. 

“Your cunt is perfect,” he hummed out as he aided you onto his lap in the afterglow, allowing you to curl into his broad chest and strong shoulders. 

The guilt sat deep in your stomach, using you for his pleasure while his wife was just down the hall. 

“Dominus, what of your wife? Will she not be upset?”

Marcus ran his fingers across the sweet skin of your cheek, staring into your innocent eyes. “You will keep my wife company while I lead our army to a distant province. I trust you to pleasure her as I have taught you.” 

You didn’t believe him, not until you were helping Lady Lucilla undress after a long day. She was missing her husband. The long days without him were torturous. Her eyes began to lust over as you bathed her, running a natural sponge and Egyptian cucumber along her skin. 

“Your hands, they are so soft,” she praised, gently clasping her hand in yours. 

Your smile was shy, and your lips slowly parted as she dragged your hand below the bath water, feeling over her bosoms. “Thank you, Matrona,” you whispered breathlessly as she squeezed your hand around her breasts, watching in awe as the simple gesture caused her eyes to fall closed in euphoria. 

You cannot deny you haven’t thought of her beauty. The General and his wife are both undeniably attractive, allure dancing over their skin like little stars. 

After her invitation to join her in the bath, you used what the General taught you with his fingers. It was a little clumsy at first, but she was patient and guided you to where she needed you to be. You gasped as you felt her cunt spasm around your fingers as her body slipped deeper into yours, her head falling onto your shoulder as she gave sweet kisses to your pulse point. 

She insisted she return you the favor the very next night. You laid in their silky sheets and melted in her hold under the candlelight. 

They were perfect opposites; Marcus was strong and rough, whereas Lucilla was gentle and tender. 

You were a guest in her chamber nearly every night the General was gone and stayed until the early morning light. Lucilla would spoon your body against hers, your interlocked fingers resting over your naked body. 

Soon, there was no guilt, only mutual pining. Love swarmed all three of you into a buzz, despite the General away on duty. 

He sends letters to you both, dirty promises he intended to keep upon his return. You made love together in Marcus’ name, while Lucilla affirmed that you had a place in their relationship and nothing would change. 

You both ached in wait for him, an ache that was only soothed by your nights together. And if you were truthful, you liked being used by them. Filling the void of the other on long, lonely nights. 

Day and night, you were hers to use as she pleased.

One night as you cooked her dinner, Lucilla entered the culina and pushed your stola over the curve of your ass. She kneeled and made out with your cunt as you shook in her hold, still attempting to finish her soup. 

“M-My Lady, here?” You squeaked, feeling her palms knead into your ass, feeling the sting of her nails as she took what she needed from you. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you, of your taste,” she whispered before continuing. 

Marcus' arrival was due any day now, only amping up your and Lucilla’s wild imaginations. 

“He’ll be ravenous,” she whispers, fingers intertwined in your hair as you explicitly slurp up her arousal. “Lords,” she gasps, jaw dropping as her head shoots up to watch you eat her pussy in their bed, “please, do that again,” she begs. 

You mimic the small ministration again, curling your fingers deep inside her cunt, feeling her walls pulse with need. 

“My Lady, he will not be able to take his eyes off you.”

“Or you.” She cooes, moaning out your name with little regard to volume. 

The amount of times you’ve prayed to feel Marcus in the intimate ways that Lucilla has is unimaginable. You’ve never felt the feeling of his cock, but Lucilla has described it to you in a way of preparation. 

“We’ll make sure you’re amply wet. It will hurt, but only for a moment, my darling girl.” 

You moan against her cunt, feeling your arousal begin to soak the sheets. 

Heavy boots thud down the hallway, but the both of you are too lost in the pleasure of one another to notice - not even when the door opens. 

“A sight to see.” 

It’s the return of Marcus, both of you gasping - Lucilla’s of excitement and yours of feeling caught. 

Despite Marcus assuring your match, you were still nervous to see him. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to return tonight with your tongue on his wife’s pussy. 

“Meus amor,” Lucilla moaned to Marcus, stroking your hair as you both sat up.  Marcus was still in his armor, a brilliant metal chest plate with Medusa coursing through the front with long hair of slithering snakes sprialing out across the extent of it. 

Lucilla moves to his side, bare naked, her body curving around his own as she holds him in her arms. 

“Lords, have we missed you,” she praises as Marcus’ hand fell low to cup her ass in his large palm. 

“My beautiful wife.” He whispers, kissing her slowly. 

They both turn to you, and you feel the burning sensation that you should leave and allow them to resume their love in peace. Instead, Marcus opens his other arm to you. 

“Let me see you, pretty girl. Come here,” he commands. You fill into the space of his side, all three of you hugging as his hands take claim of both Lucilla and your ass. 

“You’ve taken care of her like I asked?” You’re shocked to see his question is to Lucilla who proudly smiles. 

“She’s been nothing but an angel. She should be nice and ready for you, my love.” Lucilla whispers as she leans up and slowly kisses her husband. Your eyes soften as you watch, laying your head against his shoulder, your warm cheek against his cold armor. It’s a nice contrast compared to the warmth in the room. 

Marcus hums as he deepens the kiss with his wife, watching his tongue slip into her mouth as his fingers slip between her ass and move downward to the slick of her pussy. 

A moment passes and he breaks the kiss, turning to you now and leaning in. 

You’ve never shared a kiss with him, but it’s like you imagined. He’s rougher than Lucilla, needier. Away at war and away from his lovers, his lust for you both pumps through his veins. The course hair of his mustache gristles against your lip, his arm locking you tighter against his hold as you allow him to lead. 

Lords, how can you miss something you’ve never even experienced? 

A gasp enters his mouth as he feels over your pussy, how gloriously wet you are for the both of them. 

“Get on the bed. Now.” 

Lucilla smirks at you and takes your hand in hers, guiding you to the bed. 

He begins to take off his armor, hearing the loud metal clatter to the floor as Lucilla kisses you with reimagined heat. Now that her husband has returned, she showers you with even more affection and praise. 

“How do you want us, Marcus?” Lucilla asks before she begins to kiss down your neck and to your breasts, leaving wet kisses on your nipples before beginning to circle your peaks with her tongue. 

Marcus watches with authority, his dark hair cast with speckles of silver as more and more of his body is shown to you for the first time. Lucilla seems to take notice, moving behind your body and adjusting your position on your knees to face Marcus at the edge of the bed. 

“He’s handsome, wouldn’t you agree?” She whispers into your ear as her hand slips down the front of your body, slowly beginning to make circles around your already twitching clit. You whine weakly, to which Marcus smirks. 

He sheds his undergarments, seeing his tan skin and body littered with old battle scars. 

“You are unscathed? You are not hurt?” You whisper out of care, Marcus cooing softly as he comes closer and cups your cheek in his large hand. You allow the weight of your head into his protective hand, large eyes watching as he coddles you. 

“I’m unhurt, sweet girl. Do you like how Lucilla touches you?” He asks as he strips out of his last garment, your eyes landing on his hard cock that angrily knocks against his lower stomach. The hair around his cock is dark, and all you wish to do is make it sopping wet. 

At the sound of her own name, Lucilla speeds up her touches. You whimper out, your body shuddering into hers as she holds you tight and upright. 

“The General has asked you a question, my dear,” Lucilla encourages. This only probes a faster speed of her fingers and the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. 

“I-I love it, I love it,” you whisper as your head falls back onto her shoulder, Lucilla moaning softly into your ear as she grinds herself against your bare ass for any bit of friction she can get. 

“I think we should allow Marcus to have his way with us. Would you agree, my love?” She whispers to you, her other hand beginning to tweak and pinch at your nipples, only causing you to grow wetter. 

“Fuck,” Marcus admires, “she’s so prone to your touch, Lucilla. You’ve done good.” He praises his wife, only causing her body to shudder against yours. 

“Take us,” you gasp out, desperate eyes meeting his own, “please.” 

Marcus positions you as he pleases, laying you on top of Lucilla and hiking both of you to the edge of the mattress. Your ass lies over hers, your pussies perfectly lined up as Lucilla is pitched up onto her knees and resting her forearms against the bed. 

“First touch for my wife,” Marcus says as he begins to line his tip to her entrance. 

Lucilla twitches at the touch but ultimately shakes her head. 

“Allow it to her, my love. She’s never felt the touch of a man before, and I want her to feel you for the very first time. She’s waited for so long. I want to feel her cum slide down onto my cunt.” 

The couple is so giving, allowing only for a most powerful match in the bedroom where everyone wins. 

“As you wish.” Marcus manhandles your ass above Lucilla, stroking a hand down your lower back and playing with your hair. That is until he fists the ends and cocks your head upright. You hold a breath as your breasts stick to Lucilla’s warm back, feeling his tip prod against your entrance. 

And you’re reminded that Marcus is to take what he wants. 

In one swift thrust, he fills you to the brim. A cry is strangled from the depths of your throat, feeling Marcus pull your hair tighter in his hold. 

“Oh, Gods, holy hell,” you whimper as he groans. Your entire body feels like it is on pins and needles, Lucilla moaning with you as Marcus massages your ass in his greedy hands. 

“Been too fuckin’ long without my girls,” he grunts as he grinds himself into your ass, feeling both you and Lucilla shuffle with his movements. The coarse hair around his cock tickles your clit, Lucilla feeling you jerk at the sensitivity. 

“How do you feel, darling?” Lucilla whispers, turning her head and capturing your distracted lips. 

It’s impossible to string words together, the coursing thump of your walls against his protruding cock was enough to leave you mute in pleasure. 

Your gasp enters the room as Marcus strikes his hand down onto your ass, quick to massage the plush flesh under his hold. He was so different from his wife, but this pleasure of rough desperation sprouted a new flood of arousal to gush around his member. 

“My wife asked you a question,” he pants, keeping himself stationary inside you until you answer. 

“Give her a moment, my love, she’s never felt a cock before.” Lucilla coos as she reaches back around both of your hips, her hand a soothing one compared to the burning print on your other cheek. 

“I-I feel,” you gulp, panting weakly into Lucilla’s ear, “I fear I like it when he n-needs me,” you whisper, to which they both smirk wider. 

“Did you hear that Marcus? She likes being a little whore to your cock.”

Marcus hums appreciatively, the rough hand stroking your ass going to squeeze what was his once more. 

“Knew she’d be a good girl for us.” Marcus reels back his hips, your jaw dropping at the feeling that damn near burns - but you now see what Lucilla was speaking of on your nights together. 

His cock is thick and large, swollen inside of you that allows you to feel every inch of him as he claims your cunt to be his. The ache of being gaping open for him begins to glimmer into pleasure, sweat beginning to coat your body as he quickens his hips over and over again. 

It rocks you deeper into Lucilla, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She moans with you in unison; your pleasure hers, her pleasure yours, and both of your pleasures are Marcus’. 

He begins to groan obscenities to you both as he pushes you to the edge, your fists clenching the bed sheets as pleasure overcomes you. 

“Gods, this cunt is so goddamn tight, breaking this pussy in, makin’ it the shape of my cock,” he grunts as he begins to pound into you at a relentless pace, causing your screams and cries of pleasure to echo through his chamber. 

“This pussy is all ours, right sweet girl?” He hums as he stuffs you full once more, your shaky breaths against Lucilla’s shoulder leaving you breathless. 

“Y-Yes, sir, thank you, thank you,” you pant, all of a sudden falling a bit limp over Lucilla as he eventually slips his cock from your pussy, down to his wife. 

It’s as if life is shot through her body, holding you up with ease as all of her muscles are alerted as his cock spears through her entrance. 

“Christ,” She moans, smirking as her eyes fall close. 

Marcus hums approvingly, beginning to hump into her and watching in delight as your ass slaps against his abdomen with each thrust. 

“Feels so good to be back inside my home, my temple,” he worships her endlessly, holding her hips below yours and keeping her spread and steady. 

“Holy hell,” Lucilla cries out, feeling every single nerve in her body twitch at the feeling of her husband being inside of her once more. 

You bravely turn your head and look over your shoulder, in awe of the sight before you. Marcus’ muscles are all outlined and strong, his arms bulging as you marvel at the thick veins coursing up his forearm. The lewd smacks of your asses against his front are damn near enough to get you off. 

He smirks as he stares at you, only fucking his wife harder and faster. Almost in a look of permission, you bring your fingers up to your mouth and slip them in, suckling around each of your fingers until they are nice and wet. 

With his nod, you reach around Lucilla and begin to circle her clit. She lets out a shocked moan, her eyes widening as you and Marcus work in unison to get her off. Your lips messily meet, your kisses rocked by his thrusts as you begin to circle her faster and faster. 

“That’s it, please, yes!” She cries out, shaking and crumbling before you as she comes down Marcus' length. 

“Don’t stop touchin’ her,” He barks. 

Though he halts his thrusts, your fingers continue over her spasming pearl. She cries out your name and continues to twitch below you, shaking weakly as she comes a second time. You feel the stickiness against your fingers, and you greedily take them in your mouth, moaning softly at the sweet taste. 

“Fuck,” Lucilla whispers as Marcus releases his hold on her and slips out, his cock still hard as a rock and resting against his stomach. 

You both tumble onto the bed, your smile wide as you watch her come down from her euphoric orgasm. 

“She… she hasn’t come yet, Marcus.” Lucilla weakly whispers, crawling up the bed as both you and Marcus share a look. 

“You want me to finish her, my love?” 

Lucilla hums and nods, crawling up to the pillows as she lounges casually, eyes lust over as she watches. 

“You owe her for the many nights she served me. Make her feel as good as you make me feel.” 

Lucilla notes the uncertainty in your face, cooing softly as she strokes her fingers over your face reassuringly. “I want you to have him. It would make me the happiest. Believe me, darling girl.”

Lucilla lays you back in front of the towering Marcus, his eyes raking over your body in a way that makes you nervous. Then he begins to stroke over his messy cock, slick in both of your arousal and his wife’s come. 

“Lie with me?” You ask her weakly. Lucilla and Marcus share a look, to which he shakes his head. 

Lucilla smiles tiredly and kisses your lips softly, one of love and care. “Let him take you fully for the first time. I want to watch him have his way with you.” 

With her encouragement, you face Marcus who steps between your spread legs. Now that it’s just you two, it’s intimidating the way he stares down at you. Stern eyes cast over with desperation, his cock hard and ready to come. 

But he’s more intimate this time, his body caging you in as he leans over you and hovers his face over yours. You nip at your lower lip as his tip nudges against your entrance, nodding softly as your eyes meet his.

He’s slower this time, groaning as your pussy surrounds him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he rocks his hips, feeling them maliciously snap the entirety of his length into you. “Been fantasizing about this, bein’ the first to feel this pussy.”

You nod again and gently cup his cheeks, watching as his eyes soften and stare down at you. Something primal seems to take over; taking you has made him protective, maybe even in a way that claims you. 

You’re his, hers, theirs. 

He takes in each cry you let out as he begins to pound into you repeatedly, your chest swelling as he trails kisses down your neck, suckling each of your nipples into his mouth. Fisting the sheets grounds you, but you note the loss of his focus. You return your hands to his face and he’s there again, fucking you like he owns you, like he loves you. 

And maybe he does. Maybe he loves you like Lucilla does. But it would take more time to chip away at this soldier’s heart. But to be given the chance is something notable. 

His aquiline nose nudges against yours, damn near growling as you lean up and pepper kisses down his jawline and along the coarse hair of his beard. 

“Lucilla wrote how good you feel- fuck, she was right,” he forces out, hearing his voice strangle around his words. He’s close. 

His thumb moves to your clit, ensuring you both finish together. You whimper at the electric contact, gasping as your lips brush against his own. He circles your clit faster, and his hips become more erratic with desperation. 

“Finish inside her, meus amor,” Lucilla encourages, but you’re not sure how that feels. 

Heat slips down your spine as Marcus seems to find a special spot that makes your stomach drop, moaning out for him to please you. 

“I want to feel you, p-please, this feels too good,” you whisper to him, your whines on repeat with each thrust he gives you. 

“Fuck,” he groans out, “you first,” he insists, circling your clit faster faster faster and finally, you come around his cock. Your walls pulse around him, feeling your white cream coat his throbbing cock. 

You fall limp in his hold, your pearl twitching as you feel the aftershocks of your orgasm. It feels so much different with a man; you’re not sure if you love one more than the other, or maybe you love them equally. 

Marcus, in the high of chasing his own orgasm after yours, moves his arms under your body, his hands bracing the top of your shoulders. With this hold, he locks you into place, and it allows him to plow into you unrelentingly. 

“Fuck,” You cry out, feeling every inch of him over and over and over again. You reach blindly up the bed, your fingers extended as Lucilla takes your hand. 

Marcus feverishly kisses you, deep and with need as his tongue slips into your mouth and lines his own with yours. He pulls away but only for a second, spitting into your open mouth before chasing your lips once more. 

In one, two, three more thrusts, he stalls inside of you. A groan enters your mouth as his warmth paints your walls and you feel each spurt as he finishes deep inside your cunt. He groans your name, watching as his face contorts in pleasure.  

All three of you fall into bed together, panting with all energy drained, eyes closed, basking in your shared pleasure. 

That feeling comes over you again as Marcus moves up the bed, lazily kissing his wife and feeling over her skin. 

“Missed you.” He whispers to her. 

You move to stand, your shaky legs nearly giving out beneath you as you collect your clothes scattered on the floor. 

“Where are you going?” They ask in unison, concern lacing over their features. 

“I,” you start weakly, looking between them. “I thought I should return your marital bed. I haven’t slept in mine in ages.” You whisper with a smile. “Really, I insist.”

“Get back in this bed.” Marcus commands, wrapping his arm around his wife who is curled into his side. 

“Please.” Lucilla insists, reaching her hand across Marcus’ chest and keeping it open for you. 

You graciously smile and pad over to the open space on Marcus’ other side, slowly filling in and relaxing in their embrace. 

Lucilla shares a kiss with you as Marcus cradles the back of both of your heads, smiling tiredly as you sigh into her mouth. 

“My girls.” He praises, both you and Lucilla leaning in and sharing a kiss between all three of you. 

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[whenmemorydies]

Carmen, Natalie, and the Berzattos

CW: this post talks about domestic violence, addiction, mental health, racialised trauma, toxic masculinity and intergenerational trauma (this show deals with so much friends!).

Go gently with yourself if you choose to continue to read. Also its a long one (longer than my usual!) so fair warning if you're diving in: maybe put the kettle on.

Following on from The Claw, The Scrunchie and The Prayer Card metas (Part 1 and Part 2), I've been thinking more about The Berzattos (represented via Natalie's hair claw in Carmy's apartment) and their presence (seen and unseen) in season 3 of The Bear.

@espumado's fantastic meta on The Night of the Hunter and its use in The Bear, particularly as it relates to Natalie and the struggle she goes through in season 3 has informed a lot of this post. My reblog of that post also contains a lot of thinking that I had started to scratch at but haven't been able to expand upon until now. Also check out @currymanganese's brilliant analysis of The Night of the Hunter in the context of romantic relationships in The Bear.

Another source of information I've used in the research for this meta is this fantastic interview in the LA Times with the cast involved in 2x06 Fishes (thanks @brokenwinebox for sharing it!). Also thank you to @thoughtfulchaos773, @brokenwinebox and @devisrina for the chat about the above interview and discussions about Donna Berzatto's relationship with her son, Carmy.

Finally @vacationship's most excellent breakdown of the roles taken up by characters in The Bear according to Adult Children of Alcoholics ('ACA') roles defined by Sharon Wegscheider-Cruise and communicator types as developed by Virginia Satir has also informed this post.

The Berzattos

Okay so, given what we know about Carmy and about the Berzattos, it would seem obvious that, yes, his birth family is going to impact Carmy. I think its probably so obvious, that a lot of the fandom, myself included, have taken Carmy's relationship with his family for granted this season. To be fair, we were also getting Claire and the Faks shoved down our throats so some things flew under the radar including, in my view, the Berzattos.

What got me thinking about the Berzattos as a source of anguish for Carmy was a rewatch of 3x03 Doors - specifically Carmy's panic attack during that episode.

The first panic attack of season 3

At this late point in the episode, we've been watching Carmy and the crew's slowly escalating struggle with the demands of fine dining, when we arrive at Carmy running expo and calling for hands. His voice is hoarse and it sounds like he's been screaming for some time. His vision starts to blur and as he continues to call out for hands, we see glimpses of what appear to be intrusive thoughts, interrupting Carmy's work and triggering a panic attack. The sequence of shots that appear during this panic attack is below:

I note that Carm appears to be trying to come out of the panic attack by remembering his time at The French Laundry and Noma - much like memories of immaculately plated food helped him regulate during his panic attack in 1x08 Braciole and memories of Sydney helped him to regulate during his panic attack in 2x09 Omelette.

The final thought Carm has during this panic attack - indeed the thought he has when it appears that his panic attack is reaching its peak - is of his sister Natalie, in a church praying:

Note: I'm working on the assumption that the above memory of Natalie takes place at Marcus' mother's funeral. This is based on the clothes Natalie is wearing and how her hair is styled.

Its at this moment in his panic attack that you can see the crest in Carmy's emotions. The orchestral score during this sequence also builds to its climax at this point. Carmy's face screws into a tight grimace and he practically spits out the word, Fuck. Its only then that the music cuts away and we hear Sydney's voice bringing Carmy back to the present:

The fact that thinking about Natalie (praying while she carries the next generation of the Berzatto family) is what causes Carmy's panic attack to peak is what got me thinking more seriously about the impact of his birth family on Carm. ( This is something that others including @mitocamdria and @moodyeucalyptus have also picked up on here and here - the Bear hive mind at work!)

Below is my attempt to map these impacts out, from the perspective of intergenerational trauma, which can be described as,

"the apparent transmission of trauma between generations of a family. People who experience adverse childhood experiences growing up, or who have survived historical disasters or traumas, may pass the effects of those traumas on to their children or grandchildren, through their genes, their behaviour, or both, leaving the next generational susceptible to anxiety, depression, hypervigilance, and other emotional and mental health concerns."

I'd argue that intergenerational trauma can continue well beyond a person's grandchildren, particularly in cases where the systemic factors may have caused a trauma (for example: racial segregation, colonialism), continue to impact on multiple generations of a family.

So lets start by looking at Carmy's mother, Donna Berzatto...

Donna's trauma

I preface the below analysis with the caveat that we are not told what mental health diagnoses (if any) Donna Berzatto has (though she is clearly struggling with her mental health when we first meet her in 2x06 Fishes). The inferences I make below are based on what we have been told in the show about trauma that Donna has experienced.

Recall 3x08 Ice Chips where Donna and Natalie are talking in between bouts of Natalie's contractions. At one point in the episode, Natalie says:

I don't remember your mom.

To which, Donna sadly responds:

You don't want to.

Donna then becomes silently tearful remembering her mother.

Its clear from this very brief exchange that Donna has experienced some level of abuse at the hands of her own mother: Michael, Natalie and Carmy's maternal grandmother. That abuse has no doubt impacted on Donna's ability to parent her own children and likely influenced how she parented them as well.

As a mother myself, I've found that one of the hardest things about parenting has been avoiding the repetition of harmful behaviours that I've picked up through my own childhood. For all of us, the first - and often most memorable - models we have for how to parent have been the experiences we've had with our own primary caregivers (whether they were our birth parents or other adults in our lives). If those models were abusive or violent, we have to work that much harder to make sure we don't fall back on those examples when raising our own children. (And let me tell you, in the heat of the moment when your child is cracking a tanty in the grocery store, it takes A LOT to not revert to learned behaviours and instead take a step back and act from a rational place of calm lol).

For many folks who've had abusive childhoods, raising your own children can also be a very triggering journey. This article goes into a bit of why this is the case. If you've not been able to do any work on yourself or receive help to work through your own childhood abuse, you risk "blowing your trauma through" your children (I've borrowed the phrase "blowing trauma through" from African-American therapist and trauma specialist, Dr Resmaa Menakem, whose fantastic book My Grandmother's Hands has also influenced this post and a lot of my thinking about racial and intergenerational trauma). Given Donna's own history of abuse with her mother, its not a big leap to assume that she has "blown her trauma through" Michael, Natalie and Carmy with each of her children experiencing this in different ways.

There's also Donna's clear mom rage, no doubt built up over years as a single parent, and epitomised in the line from 2x06 (that broke my heart when I heard it because it resonated so much),

I make things beautiful for them, and no one makes things beautiful for me.

Based on the show's lore, up until 3x08 it wasn't evident that Donna had ever taken any steps to try and work through her own mental health issues and trauma. Once we get to 3x08 though, when Natalie says that she didn't tell Donna about her pregnancy because,

I just didn't want all the stuff you bring with you.

Donna replies by saying:

Yeah. I've been trying to put that stuff away.

Natalie then asks her mother how that process is going and Donna responds,

Its not easy.

Natalie then tells her mother that she's glad Donna is trying and Donna says she's glad that she's trying too.

Its not much, but the above exchange points to a slight shift in Donna's approach to her own trauma and to her parenting. This shift appears to have put Donna and Natalie's relationship on firmer footing than it has been in the past. Whether it will be enough for Carmy's relationship with his mother is another question and one I'm sure we'll see play out in season 4.

The Berzattos and Italian American racialised trauma

Other than the above exchange in 3x08 Ice Chips, we have no information about Donna's parents. I assume that Donna was born in America given her description of the Feast of the Seven Fishes (also known as La Vigilia) as described to Richie in 2x06 Fishes. During her description, Donna speaks about the Italian immigrants who brought "their seven best things" with them as if she's speaking about ancestors, not her own generation.

She does not use the first person here:

[I]ts based on people who left Italy to find new dreams and homes with new people. And they brought their seven best things from their sea to their new homes. And not so their families end up being a bunch of fuckin' jagoffs. (lmao)

Then Class A Jagoff, Uncle Lee storms into the kitchen and tells Donna that her retelling of the Seven Fishes legend is "not even close" and refers to all the sevens that occur in the Bible. Which is likely a closer explanation for the feast (see this overview on La Vigilia published on the Italian Sons and Daughters of America website). Notably, it was southern Italian and Sicilian immigrants that popularised the Feast of the Seven Fishes in America.

Given the above, it doesn't seem to me that Donna is a first generation Italian immigrant. Depending on the Berzatto family history, its possible that Donna is the daughter of Italian immigrants or the granddaughter of them. Her Italian ancestry could stretch even further back in time. At this point in The Bear, we don't know.

What we should note is that Italian immigrants and in particular, southern Italian and Sicilian immigrants to America, endured a history of racism in that country before their acceptance into the category of "white" in America.

Image source: How Italians Became 'White', The New York Times

This NY Times article provides an overview of the racialisation of Italians in America over time. The article notes that,

"[d]arker skinned southern Italians endured the penalties of blackness on both sides of the Atlantic. In Italy, Northerners had long held that Southerners - particularly Sicilians - were an 'uncivilized' and racially inferior people, [considered] too obviously African to be part of Europe."

This racism of northern Italians towards those from the south of the country was no doubt tied to Italy’s own racist and violent colonial history, including its involvement in Europe's rabid "Scramble for Africa". In the course of its time as a colonial power, Italy came to brutally invade and occupy Eritrea, Somalia, Libya and Ethopia.

Note: I don't think its a coincidence that, Ebraheim, Somalian "grill master", medic and veteran of the American military intervention in Somalia, found himself working at an Italian American beef sandwich shop. Much in the same way that its no surprise that many folks in my Tamil family ended up in the heart of the British Empire - the UK - after fleeing civil unrest and genocide in one of its former colonies (Sri Lanka). As Tamil writer A.S. Sivanandan is famously quoted as saying about post-colonial migration: "we are here, because you were there."

Once they first arrived in America in the 19th century, racism against Southern Italians continued:

"They were sometimes shut out of schools, movie houses and labor unions, or consigned to church pews set aside for black people. They were described in the press as 'swarthy', 'kinky haired' members of a criminal race and derided in the streets with epithets [that were more commonly] applied to enslaved Africans and their descendants[.]"

Though while Italian Americans experienced the severe racial prejudice described above, particularly during their early history in America, some were still able to benefit from their European ancestry in ways that people with non-European backgrounds were unable to. This included: being able to apply for US citizenship, being able to marry, own property, and choose where to live - things that BIPOC people often faced great barriers (if not outright bans) to accessing.

Notably, in Chicago where the Berzattos are based, the history of Italian racialisation differed to other major cities in America. In Italian Immigrants, Whiteness and Race: A Regional Perspective (p. 6) Italian historian Stefano Luconi notes that,

[I]n Chicago, Italian Americans competed primarily with Polish immigrants, who generally turned out to be less hostile to them than Irish Americans in New York City or Boston, and overall their accommodation within the adoptive society was easier than elsewhere.

Given the above, the Berzattos' connection with Polish "family members" Uncle Jimmy Kalinowski, Uncle Lee Lane, and Cousin Richie Jerimovich appears rooted in a long history of Polish-Italian relations in Chicago.

Note: Ancestry.com tells me Kalinowski is a Polish and Jewish last name. Uncle Lee identifies as "Polski" in 2x06 Fishes and in the draft script for 2x06 is listed as Uncle Jimmy's brother. While Richie's ethnicity isn't explicitly stated in The Bear, in 3x04 Violet, he refers to his daughter Eva as żabka which is Polish for "small frog" and is also used as a term of endearment for girls or women.

Eventually Italian Americans were assimilated into the racial category of "white" both legally and in the popular imagination of the country. This happened in a few ways including via Italian Americans claiming whiteness for themselves, particularly in active opposition to Black, African American communities. This is despite their historic racialisation in comparison to Black, African-descent people (which, in a better world, could have been the basis for shared and sustained solidarity between the two communities). Luconi observes that,

"in Brazos County, Texas, Italian Americans learned to claim whiteness for self-protection, which involved showing off hostility toward African Americans in the mid-1890s [...] By the same token, after realizing the social benefits of being characterized by a white identity, Italian Americans in Baltimore embraced the racist premises of the local political leadership in the early twentieth century and joined two campaigns that unsuccessfully aimed at disenfranchising African Americans in 1905 and 1909 by amending the state constitution." from: Italian Immigrants, Whiteness and Race: A Regional Perspective (p. 15)

The above NY Times article states that in 1892, the lynching of 11 Italian immigrants who were accused of killing a police chief in New Orleans resulted in Italy breaking diplomatic relations with America. As a result of this and to prevent unrest in the Italian American community, US President Benjamin Harrison proclaimed 12 October as "Columbus Day" and encouraged Americans to celebrate the contribution of the Italian Christopher Columbus to the creation of America.

Apparently, this sleight of hand (a legerdemain because it: (a) magically erased generations upon generations of First Nations who have existed in the Americas long before Columbus' arrival (and who continue to do so), and (b) because it vanished the explorer's penchant for rape and enslavement of the First Nations' people that he did encounter) was enough to reinstate diplomatic relations between America and Italy as well as carve out a place for Italian Americans in the white, American imaginary.

Indeed, despite recent calls to stop the celebration of Columbus Day led by First Nations people across America, it is Italian American organisations (including the Italian Sons and Daughters of America) and prominent Italian Americans that are some of those voices leading campaigns to keep Columbus Day as it is, reductively and disingenuously dismissing its critics as attacking Italian-American heritage.

Note: the above views are obviously not shared by all Italian Americans. See below protest staged by Italian Americans in the Berzattos' hometown of Chicago, in opposition to the city's Columbus Day Parade (Source: Fox 32 Chicago):

One of my heroes, Toni Morrison, once said of American national identity,

"In this country, American means white. Everybody else has to hyphenate."

White supremacy operates amongst racialised communities through divide and rule, with these communities pitted against one another, trying to achieve as close a proximity to whiteness as possible. In the US context, that proximity brings those communities closer to what is perceived as "American". The above examples show how some Italian American communities in America shifted the racial categorisation of their community to "white" over time by fighting for that proximity. I would argue that that shift came at a great cost, as all racism does: a cost to the BIPOC communities that were fucked over in the process and a cost to the souls of those now "white" Italian Americans who participated in divide and rule to get closer to a white supremacist position of power. Dr Resmaa Menakem would refer to those costs as traumas for both BIPOC communities and (now) white, Italian American communities.

In My Grandmother's Hands, Dr Menakem discusses the impact of racialised trauma on white people. Specifically, that white supremacy - or as Dr Menakem refers to it, "white body supremacy" - is itself a trauma response. I won't get into the details of this framework (and make this post longer than it already is lol) except to say its fascinating and I'd encourage you to read My Grandmother's Hands to find out more. Its relevance here is to illustrate that on top of our individual, personal traumas, we each carry with us racialised trauma. I make the point of articulating this because while The Bear alludes to race (sometimes masterfully as in this scene where Donna tries to play divide and rule in her own way), it often does so obliquely in ways that are not always obvious to viewers (for example, see director Ramy Youssef's discussion in Variety about the bike crash scene in 2x04 Honeydew). But make no mistake, race permeates this show.

For example, I think about Uncle Lee’s jab at Mikey in 2x06 about the latter living with his mom, and compare this to Marcus living with his mother throughout seasons 1-2 or Sydney living with her father in seasons 1-3. I think about how in many communities of colour, multi-generational living isn’t seen as shameful because the focus is not just on financial dependence but on relationships and care. Certainly, an adult child might not be financially independent but if they are caring for their parent, this is something to be valued.

I think about how the move to individualism (championed by Uncle Lee) away from family and community (features that Italian culture is historically very well known for) is a shift that, for many Italian Americans, may be viewed as a cost incurred as a result of an allegiance to white supremacy.

I think also about the words of Tema Okun, who wrote about how white supremacy shows up in organisational and professional settings in her 1999 article "White Supremacy Culture" and how in that work, Okun noted particular identifying characteristics of organisational, white supremacist culture, including (but not limited to):

individualism;

perfectionism;

either/or & binary thinking; and

a sense of urgency.

Sound familiar? I thought they might. These are traits that Carmy has exhibited in almost every episode of season 3 (and periodically in seasons 1-2). Notably, these are traits that are also valorised in the world of fine dining, as we see it through Carmy's eyes throughout season 3 (in flashbacks and in how he chooses to run The Bear). And we all know how well this shit is going for our man (lol).

I'll get into this more in an upcoming meta (again, this is me manifesting in a bid to force myself to finish writing the thing lol), but I just wanted to point out how both in terms of his racialisation and his professional career, Carmy is immersed in white supremacy - whether he wants to be or not - benefiting from its privileges while also being witness and therefore, subject, to its horrors. No one escapes this shit, not even those who've been welcomed into the fold at the top of the hierarchy.

All of this - the racialised history and trauma associated with the Italian American community as well as the clear whiteness that marks the fine dining industry - makes Carmy's character that much more fascinating to me. Here is a character with seemingly no personal prejudices towards BIPOC folks. He loves the BIPOC folks in his life quite dearly (in particular, Marcus who he treats as a brother, and of course Sydney, in whom he's found a soulmate). I think this is likely due in large part to the role Carmy's siblings (Mikey and Natalie) played in raising him. These two characters also appear to care deeply for the BIPOC people in their lives without much of the prejudice that many who have been racialised and socialised in their community might harbour. And in their roles as surrogate parents for Carmy, they appear to have modelled that healthy and normal (because we must remember, what is abnormal is racism) respect for their fellow humans. They're not perfect in this (recall 2x06 and Mikey's bombastic objectification of Claire) but we do see repeated glimpses of their goodness throughout the show (recall 3x06 and Mikey's kindness to Tina, or the pantry scene in 2x06 and the gentleness he displays towards Carmy there). This is in contrast to their mother, Donna, who clearly has done no work to prevent blowing her own racialised trauma and prejudice through the bodies of her kids.

Also while the racialisation of The Bear's BIPOC characters is readily apparent (because the white supremacist culture of the West is more attuned to looking at non-white people and automatically seeing race), its white characters are also racialised and have racialised histories. The above was my attempt at stepping out a bit of the racialisation of The Berzattos, of Carmy, and of the racialised trauma that they also carry with them.

Phew.

Okay, now back to the Berzattos...

Carmy's birth

Recall 3x08 Ice Chips and Donna telling Natalie the stories of each of her children's births. By far, the birth that appears to cause Donna the most rage, the most pain, is Carmy's. It also happens to be the only birth out of her three children that her (by all accounts) deadbeat husband is present for. Donna describes fighting with her husband during the entirety of her labour with Carmy and that the hospital was fucked because it seemed like everyone went into labour at the same time. She then tells Natalie that Carmy took a long time to arrive:

Note: Its not lost on me that Carmy's obsession with speed, rushing and sense of urgency was almost definitely drilled into him from birth, given the rage with which Donna describes his "slowness" in being born.

Donna then goes onto express how frightened she was and the further difficulties involved in Carmy’s delivery:

It was so hard and so scary because he kept getting stuck, and they just kept having to move me, and I remember they were moving me in all these positions. And then at one point, I think they had me fucking upside down or something.

And then, so brutally it becomes darkly funny (I've pushed a kid out too: it can be so painful, if you don't laugh, you'll sob hysterically lol), Donna describes Carmy's birth as just all around fucked:

The whole thing was fucked:

No seriously, very fucked:

So Carmy entered the world and the experience of his delivery was fucked nine ways to Sunday for his mother. A very difficult beginning to this life for a baby, to say the least. I would go so far as to say, given the way Donna is recounting Carmy's birth, that she experienced birth trauma, and possibly developed birth-related post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Contrast this with how Donna describes Michael's and Natalie's births:

Despite Michael also having difficulty being born (Donna recalls that it seemed like "he wanted to stay" in the safety of her womb), Donna says that she felt really good, great and strong during her labour with him and that his birth was even described by a doctor as an "amazing" one.

Donna describes Natalie's birth as "beautiful" with Natalie arriving after Donna had had a restful sleep and a vivid, prophetic dream. Donna then goes onto tell Natalie that she was delivered in the presence of a "sweet" girlfriend (Cicero's first wife, Gail) who sat with Donna during labour and who played "Baby, I Love you" for Donna as Natalie arrived.

The differences in how Donna recalls Mikey, Nat and Carmy's births and Donna's propensity in the past for holding her children's "mistakes" over their heads (recall 2x06 Fishes and the story of how Natalie got the nickname "Sugar"), make me think that she was likely to have rubbed Carmy's difficult birth in his face when he was younger. I think that Donna was also likely to have either intentionally or unintentionally (or perhaps both, depending on the circumstance) made Carmy feel less than his older siblings, maybe not as wanted. We have some evidence pointing to this happening in Carmy's past, peppered throughout the show.

Growing up in the Berzatto house:

As a child Carmy had a stutter, which causes speech to inherently slow (as it takes longer to form words and sentences). He was also scared to speak. Now a stutter in and of itself would not make the person speaking scared. Its other people's reactions to a stutter that would do that. Given Donna's vitriol at how slow Carmy's birth was, and her obsession with time (anyone fancy a kitchen timer? this lady's got 700 of them), its not a stretch to imagine that any delay in Carmy articulating himself as a child would have been met with ridicule or rage from his mother.

We know that all the Berzatto children grew up scared of their mother, a survivor of abuse herself, and an addict who drank to excess with clear mental health issues that it didn’t appear she was seeking treatment for. Recall Natalie's disclosure to Donna in 3x08 Ice Chips:

Carmy also grew up embedded in a particularly toxic type of white, heterosexual masculinity embodied by his brother Mikey and "cousin" Richie (who undoubtedly had it blown through their bodies by family, friends and the white supremacist, homophobic culture we are swimming in, in the West). I've previously discussed this in my meta on the use of 90s alternative rock in The Bear and more recently, in this reblog of @mitocamdria's meta Sublimation and Intellectual Orgasms.

Carmy gets called "a weird little dude" for knowing how to mix a drink in 2x06. He gets called a "gayrod" for owning the Noma cookbook in 1x01. He gets called a "soft shitty bitch" for calling Pete instead of Natalie in 1x05. He gets called a "mopey little fuck" in 2x06 for questioning Mikey and Richie right before they accost him with a veritable wall of gross dudebro, horndog descriptions of Claire (a girl they know and are friends with - again, fucking gross). Carmy hears his mother describe Steve as "gay" for being "arty" in 2x06 (recall that Carmy is also "arty" in that he can draw and likes fashion). If you weren't performing alpha-male dominance like Mikey, Richie, Uncle Lee or even Uncle Jimmy, the Berzatto household was a rough place to be. Truth is though, that all of those white, alpha-males have their own demons, and in the case of Mikey, those demons drove him to take his own life. The truth is that, like white supremacy, no one escapes toxic masculinity unscathed either.

We know Carmy suffered from low self-confidence as a child which might have led him to feeling aimless. He tells us in 1x08 Braciole that he got shitty grades because he couldn't pay attention in school, he didn't get into college, didn't have any girlfriends or many friends for that matter. Carmy also tells us in that same monologue that he wasn't "built" in the same way as his brother, who could walk into a room and take its temperature right away, who was loud, hilarious and magnetic.

I think about how for someone like Carmy, Mikey would have cast a long shadow. I think about how hard it would have been to have lived under that shadow while trying to figure yourself out.

It wasn't until working in fine dining that Carmy found his purpose. He says in 1x08,

For the first time in my life, I started to find this station for myself.

This must have been intoxicating and affirming for Carmy. Yet I think about how, after all that, he could return home having achieved accolades and fanfare in his career, try his best in the chaos of a Berzatto family Christmas to diffuse the powder keg that is Donna, and still be called "Michael" by his mother, his very existence in that moment, feeling like a puff of smoke.

We also know that Carmy's eldest siblings ended up being like surrogate parents for him. Mikey almost certainly was a father figure given the absence of his biological father in Carmy's life. Its not a stretch to imagine Natalie as taking on the role of a surrogate mother, given Donna's abuse and how Natalie looks out for almost everyone throughout seasons 1-3 of The Bear. In this video, Jeremy Allen White also talks about the tattoo Carmy has of two angels with a sun in between them as representing his brother and his sister, further confirming the roles of his "guardian angel" siblings.

I think about Natalie, parentified big sister that she is, sneaking a wad of cash into Carmy’s pocket as he leaves her and Chicago for New York in 3x01. I think about her calling him “honey” in that same episode as she affirms that she knows how good he is at being a chef - “honey” being a term of endearment commonly used in family settings but between parents and their children, not as commonly heard between siblings.

I also think about Mikey being born the eldest, the first and only (for a time) to have to deal with his mother's trauma and expectations. I think about how he took on the work of looking after his mother and his siblings when his father left the Berzatto home. I think about how Mikey is described by the actor who plays him, as a "dreamer who's not allowed to dream. He has to take care of everybody."

Loose ends

Another set of incidents haunting spread throughout season 3 also raised concerns for me, in that they remain unresolved and point to a resolution or confrontation for Carmy and the Berzattos in season 4. I named them in my reblog of @espumado's post on The Night of the Hunter. For ease of reference, I'll bullet point them here:

Carmy finds a box labelled "DD" (his mother, Donna's nickname) at The Bear at the end of 3x05 and looks through it. He appears frozen as he finds a baby photo of his mother holding a baby I assume is him. The episode ends at this moment and neither the box or Carmy's reaction are revisited for the remainder of season 3

Cicero tells Carmy during 3x09 that Donna wants Carmy to call her back about "the baby" (one assumes this is a reference to Natalie's baby) and that Carmy has been "fucking avoiding it" (one assumes again that the "it" here is the baby...but maybe its also just the act of calling Donna back)

But then Carmy says something strange:

Yeah. Hoping it would just go away.

Surely, Carmy's not talking about a baby. Babies can't just go away. And I don't think Carmy is so malicious that he'd wish his sister's child to disappear. I also don't think Carmy would refer to his mother as "it" (he's never done so up to this point on the show, as monstrous as she can be).

And in case you were wondering, Cicero's response to Carmy also doesn't sound like it applies to a baby or Donna (lol):

[Y]ou run right the fuck into it.

Intergenerational trauma and legacy

So what is the "it" that Carmy wants to go away? What is the "it" that Uncle Jimmy tells him to face by running "right the fuck into it"? My suspicion is that this is Carmy's baggage. The baggage that comes with being born a Berzatto and being born to Donna. All the stuff that we've been talking about here. Its also the baggage that both Nat and his mother have been trying to "put away":

Above from 3x02 Next: Natalie in conversation with Carmy. "Its not great 8am stuff."

Above from 3x08 Ice Chips: Donna in conversation with Natalie.

Carmy is trying to do this too: put away his baggage, while having been the "Lost Child" (referring to ACA roles and the recording about them that Natalie was listening to at the end of 3x07 Legacy) and the youngest child in his family for so long but now having to be the "Hero". @vacationship's post on ACA roles as they relate to The Bear gives a great breakdown on what the "lost child" and "hero" roles mean.

In the LA Times interview mentioned above, Jeremy Allen White says,

I don't think Carm's ever been outside of himself enough to really take in another person in their entirety, sadly. I think that's Carmen's real struggle.

As the youngest child of the Berzattos, Carmy has never had to step outside of himself to the extent that Mikey, Natalie or even Donna have had to. He has never had to care for anyone other than himself, until he inherits The Beef. And that responsibility is a HUGE one.

But Carmy jumps into that role, initially fuelled by the desire to retroactively fix his relationship with Mikey and fix "the family". Recall again his monologue in 1x08 Braciole:

[I]ts very clear to me trying to fix the restaurant, was me trying to fix whatever was happening with my brother. And I don't know, maybe fix the whole family because that restaurant, it has and it does mean a lot to people. It means a lot to me.

For the longest time, I interpreted "the family" that Carmy refers to here as his chosen family: the crew at The Beef. I think that while that was true, it wasn't the whole picture. I think Carmy was actually being more expansive in his definition of family to include his entire family: chosen and birth.

So while Carmy is obviously trying to make The Bear a success for Sydney ("Syd, we're going to get a star") and for Marcus ("Take us there Bear", "Yes, Chef"), as well as for the rest of the chosen family he first found at The Beef, Carmy is also trying to fix the restaurant for the Berzattos. Specifically, Carmy is trying to do what his father and brother couldn't do in keeping The Beef/The Bear going. He is trying to embody the Hero ACA role, vacated by Mikey with the latter's passing, even though his sister told him from the start, in 1x01:

No one's asking you to.

What I think I took for granted this season was just how much Carmy's desire to repair the legacy of the father figures in his life (as represented by the restaurant) was brought to an urgent and frenetic head for him in the late stages of Natalie's pregnancy. Upon rewatch of 3x09 Apologies, I picked up on some interesting script choices and imagery that I think have been chosen purposefully to relay to us that this is the case and that the impending birth of his niece is indeed, weighing on Carmy.

Now, at the start of 3x09, Carmy may or may not know Natalie has just had her baby. I assume he does. After Marcus watches that clip about magic, followed by unnecessary Fak, Claire and dumpster content (lol) and then Sydney practising how she's going to break Shapiro's offer to Carmy, we cut to the kitchen of The Bear and we hear Carmy calling out orders while running expo. He's yelling again. His voice is hoarse like it was in 3x03 during his panic attack. We see Carmy's intrusive thoughts at a rapid clip intercut with close ups of his, Sydney's and Richie's faces. We also hear Carmy repeatedly yelling at the staff to push:

Please give me the fucking agnolotti. Push.

Lets fucking push, please. Lets fucking go.

Push, please.

Push, chefs! Please! The cook is fucked. Refire, please.

Push.

From a quick google, "push" is used in restaurant settings but not in the way Carmy's doing here. I've seen it used to mean "sell" an item (as in getting a server to "push" a particular dish to diners so they order it) as well as to describe a busy period during service (as in the restaurant is in the middle of a "push").

In 3x09, Carmy is yelling “push” like a midwife at his sister's side while she pushes out her child, the next generation of Berzattos, into the world. But instead of his niece, Carmy is trying to deliver one more in a litany of dinner services at The Bear.

Note: you can clearly see here that the jagged lines that have appeared since season 1 when Carmy is having intrusive thoughts are actually made up of what look to be hundreds of claw marks. I've noted in a previous reblog of one of @thoughtfulchaos773's posts (that I can't find atm sorry) that this evokes Carmy (the Bear) trying to claw his way out of a mental spiral and back to equilibrium. @currymanganese also noted that the lines themselves look like a neural network, driving the point about Carmy's mental state home.

And then directly after the above "push" scene, we see copious amounts of water ejected over the The Bear's kitchen island, washing away flesh coloured food and sauce that looks like blood splatter:

Having rewatched 3x09 through the lens of intergenerational trauma, with the spectre of Natalie's labour, Carmy's apparent resistance to seeing Natalie or her baby, and having just heard his hoarse voice screaming push, push, push...to me this water started looking a whole lot like birth waters breaking, and amniotic fluid flooding The Bear:

Note: Rest assured, amniotic fluid doesn't contain all those suds.

@espumado pointed out in their The Night of the Hunter meta that the song playing during the above "push" and "broken waters" scenes of 3x09 is a song by Trent Reznor and Atticus Finch from a war documentary. The song is "The Forever Rain" from the documentary series The Vietnam War by Ken Burns and Lynn Novick. I'm sure its no coincidence that a song from a documentary about the Vietnam War - a war whose veterans were the first to be assessed for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) - is being used in a scene acting as an allegory for childbirth, given what we know about how traumatic Carmy's birth was for his mother, and inevitably, for him as an infant.

So why is Carmy so preoccupied with Natalie's pregnancy and the birth of his niece?

I think this all ties back to what Carmy told us in 1x08: that he wants to fix the restaurant (and in the context of season 3, this means making The Bear a success) and that in doing so, fix his family.

Note: which is also why I think we are shown that magic clip that Marcus is watching at the beginning of 3x09 with this bit of dialogue from it: "What makes magic different is that its inherently honest. You tell someone you're gonna deceive them before you deceive them. In some way, that makes it more difficult." We were told in 1x08 what the restaurant means to Carmy and his reasons for fixing it, but Storer and co have spent all of season 3 distracting us with Claire and Fak-shaped sleights of hand getting us looking elsewhere to understand Carmy's behaviour. By 3x10, Carmy's motives haven't changed. He's doing this for his family. All of his family.

Specifically in the context of Nat's pregnancy, Carmy wants to ensure that The Bear is a success for the next generation of Berzatto children, for his niece. And if Carmy is being haunted by a need to fix his family's legacy, particularly given the impending arrival of Natalie's baby - the youngest Berzatto after him - then his desperate, rageful plea to Syd after she brings him back from his panic attack in 3x03 Doors, is even more distressing:

They're going too fucking slow!

What Carmy means is:

I'm going too slow and this restaurant is going to fail because of it. And this baby is going to inherit my failure, just like I inherited Mikey's and just like he inherited our father's.

Remember: Natalie is a part owner of The Bear and so any financial failure of the restaurant will be felt by her and her family just as it would be felt by Carm.

What Carmy needs to realise is that while a brick and mortar institution may fail, what remains are the relationships, the people that he has met because of it (shout out to Chef Terry and her speech in 3x10 Forever, also shout out to Mikey and his chat with Tina in 3x06 Napkins). And if there are people - if there are relationships - there's always the chance to build another future together, again.

Conclusion (yep, I'm almost done)

I think about how whether he likes it or not, Carmy was able to pursue his passion in cooking because of his family’s racial (and class) privilege, particularly as a member of a community that was invited to join in the spoils of white supremacy. This privilege was most clearly embodied by the fact that the Berzattos had the means to own The Beef and the culinary opportunities for Carmy that flowed from that work and experience (contrast this with Sydney, Marcus and Tina's experiences in entering this field, which I've discussed here and which @freedelusionshere discusses here).

I think about how Carmy subverted and used that privilege to bring along the original crew of The Beef with him to The Bear, lifting up his largely BIPOC employees. And then I think about how he ran roughshod over them in order to try and meet the insane expectations he'd set for himself (in large part, as a result of his family's history).

I think about the safety net that Carmy had with Natalie and Mikey who were there to take care of The Beef, their family and their unwell mother, giving Carmy the room to find himself professionally. I think about Mikey leaving behind a restaurant for Carmy but also leaving behind an entire family for him too.

I think about Carmy not realising that while The Beef was a burden in some ways, it was a blessing in so many others.

I think about the clear intergenerational trauma that Carmy is contending with while trying to balance so many perceived, competing demands.

I also think about Donna's dream, the night she went into labour with Natalie:

In this nothing dream, I mean nothing dream. And it wasn't Chicago, and it wasn't New York. It was some sort of hybrid city, you know? And there was a fish tank. Big fish tank in the middle of the city. It was this giant fish tank, and I was the only one looking at it.

[...]

And I remember the colours were, they were so sharp and vivid and neon, you know, and I was the only one looking at it.

[...]

I was just staring at it for the longest time. And all of a sudden, I noticed that the glass started to come apart like it was gonna split. But I wasn't worried, you know? It wasn't bad, because I knew that more people were gonna get to see these beautiful fish.

And then I woke up, and I was sweating, and my water had broke.

When Donna had her children, she had no idea that she would lose her eldest child to suicide. She likely had no idea how far she was going to push her daughter away from her due to her abuse, and she most certainly did not know that her youngest would cease contact with her for years while becoming a renowned chef. None of us parents know for certain how things are going to turn out for our children, or for our relationships with them.

We can only hope, and do our best: do our best to break harmful cycles while trying to nurture children who will leave the world a better place than it was when when they arrived. And if our kids manage to do this not because of us but in spite of us, in spite of our slip ups and mistakes, in spite of our baggage, then honestly, we should be even prouder of them. Because it meant they were able to integrate our trauma, our histories, and their trauma, and their histories, all of it, and make something beautiful, something better.

And I think I can see why Donna wasn't worried when the fish tank started to crack. I get why she was so happy that more people were going to get to see her beautiful children and the world they were going to create, in spite of everything and because of everything.

As usual, tagging folks who might be interested (absolutely no pressure to read this fucking long ass thing though), but keen to hear from anyone who wants to discuss:

@currymanganese @thoughtfulchaos773 @moodyeucalyptus @vacationship @mitocamdria @brokenwinebox @espumado @tvfantic87 @turbulenthandholding @anxietycroissant @angelica4equity @devisrina @kdbleu @freedelusionshere @ambeauty @afrofairysblog @fresaton @hwere @ciaomarie @ambeauty

[radiowallet]

Enough Time

Kinktober Day 6 - Morning Sex

Main Masterlist II Kinktober Masterlist

Summary: You and Marcus have a quiet morning in bed together. Pairing: Marcus Moreno x f!reader WC: 1K Warnings: Mature 18+ MDNI This is an over 18 blog and all content is considered mature. Established relationship, unprotected P in V sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, domestic fluff, mentions of a baby in the house.

Sunlight filters in slowly, painting lines of gold across the carpet, honey sweet and just as slow. It creeps closer and closer, until finally the hues of autumn crawl across the bed sheets, touching gently to the bend of your knee. You watch the glow seep into your bedroom through half-lidded eyes, your body loose and relaxed, warmth radiating all around you. In the distance you can hear a clock ticking, keeping cadence with the syrupy softness of the morning hour.

A comforting weight holds you down, the security of Marcus’s arms finding you, even in sleep. One is curled around your waist, the other pillowed beneath your head, your husband’s body draped around yours, always unable to resist keeping you as close as he possibly can. His breathing is even, measured; lips warm where they rest on the crown of your head. You think maybe you could spend the rest of the morning here, legs tangled in the early morning light, soaking up the scent and feel of each other until the hours tick closer to lunch. 

But you know it’s only a matter of time before the peace crashes down around you. The baby will be up soon, her insistent babbles turning to cries the second she realizes she’s being ignored. Missy’s music will join in soon after, the mixture of teenage angst and bubblegum pop adding an additional flourish to the soundtrack of your morning. Through it all, Marcus will smile patiently, filling coffee cups and signing permission slips and warming up bottles, thriving on the chaos as if it was just another battle with supervillains or aliens. 

Personally, you’ve had your fill of chaos. 

You’re already exhausted at the prospect of another busy morning, and you can’t help but burrow further into the covers, scooting deeper into your husband’s warm embrace. Just as you’re about to close your eyes in hopes of basking in the last few minutes of quiet, Marcus reads your thoughts as if you had screamed them out loud. 

“I think we have some time.” 

His voice is like molasses in your ear, his cock hard where it presses into the cleft of your ass, making it clear how he wants to use these last few minutes in bed. There’s no time for you to even think to disagree, the large hand that had been resting on your hip already slipping under the hem of his t-shirt (the one you had slipped on before bed), finding your bare pussy already wet in waiting. 

Marcus hums as he swirls his fingers around your clit before dipping inside you, feeling the last of his release from last night still coating you. 

“Still wet,” he murmurs, crooking his finger forward, dragging a sigh from you, your toes curling up in response. You can already feel a familiar tug pulling in your core, his touch firm as he slips a second finger in, scissoring you open with care. His lips find your cheek, a messy kiss pressed to it, barely a distraction from the rhythmic movement of his fingers. 

“Marcus,” you mewl, trying and failing to keep your voice below a whisper. 

Patient as always, he shushes you sweetly, his other arm shifting beneath you until his large hand is cupping your jaw, tilting your face back and allowing him to kiss you fully on the lips. It’s the perfection distraction, the whine you release when his fingers pull out of you stolen by the heavy sweep of his tongue in your mouth. 

The taste of stale morning breath has never been better as you continue to kiss, a lazy press of lips and tongues, low groans traded back and forth as Marcus pulls your top leg back and over his hip, giving him room to slip his hard length inside you. It’s not a perfect fit from this angle, but it’s enough to have you arching into him, arousal dripping out and around his thick cock.  

His movements are small, barely there thrusts of his hips that still send stars bursting behind your eyelids. It’s more than slow, legs tangled and hands grasping, sheets kicked away, allowing the sunlight to find your bare skin. It’s something about these early morning moments with Marcus, a stillness you couldn’t reproduce if you tried; the kind that makes these mornings so different from all the others. 

Normally, he takes his time with you, ensuring you feel every snap of his hips, each dig of his fingers, pounding into you with a ferocious stamina. He tugs and twists and wrings every ounce of pleasure from you, until the only word left inside your heart is his name. He lets his mouth run away from him, drunk off the feeling of fucking you, every dirty thought he’s ever had groaned into your ear. 

But in the morning, he moves gingerly, the sunrise tempering his thrusts and stealing his voice. He pulls you close, and moves inside you, a gentle grind of his hips that fan the flames of your pleasure, but somehow keeping you on the very edge of languid. 

You move together softly, little gasps and hushed moans breathed into each other as you cling helplessly to the moment. The end is looming close, both of you still feeling the effects of last night tingling at the edge of your arousal. And before you know it, your release is blooming, liquid heat seeping down your spine and pulling your muscles taut. Marcus isn’t far behind, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you up with his cum. 

You do not, cannot move, your heart ragged and stuttering inside your chest. Marcus eases you through it, hands tracing the curves of your breasts, lips soothing at the mark his teeth surely left behind. It’s minutes later when he finally speaks, voice still low, though not with sleep. 

“Told you we had time.”

And just enough, you think, a secret smile tilting at your cheeks as the alarm, the baby, and the music all start at once. Behind you Marcus groans, the sound so different from this side of good morning. You turn and give him one more kiss, a promise lingering on the tip of your tongue. 

Tonight. We’ll have enough time tonight.

[bluestar22x]

PedroStories HallowReads Celebration 

A Spooky Salute to Writers! 

🎃 Here are my recommendations for @pedrostories’ HallowReads Celebration 🎃

My favourite fanfic I read this year:

Title: Short Days Long Nights (Joel Fanfic) by @frannyzooey Description: Part of a band of travelers, your party is slowly picked off one by one, until there are only two of you left. Finding an abandoned cabin in the woods, you decide to make camp there until you figure out your next move. As the seasons change, the nights get longer and longer… My thoughts: I'm not that big on TLOU AU fics because I love Season 1 of TLOU and how Joel and Ellie's story unfolds but I'd sacrifice that story for this fic I must admit. It's just so cozy and beautifully told. Lots of intimacy. Franny's shadow banned as I write this so I couldn't get a direct link, but she's also on AO3 and the link should still work from my blog. She might be unblocked by the time this event is up.

Beloved fanfic with my comfort character(s):

Title: A Good Thing (Dad!Marcus Series) by @mellowswriting Description: Follows reader and Marcus Pike as they become parents (link is to the 1st part) My thoughts: Several Pedro characters are comfort characters for me so it's hard to choose which character let alone which fic. I'd love to live a domestic life with Marcus Pike though. He's especially sweet in this story.

A fanfic I wish more people knew about:

Title: Softer by @campingwiththecharmings Description: To most, he’s violent and intimidating, but to you, (with you) he’s someone else, someone vulnerable, someone…softer. My thoughts: Has less than 100 notes but is far worthy of more. I love soft!Joel smut. This is so lovely.

A fanfic with my favourite trope/AU:

Title: Stranger At My Gate by @leslie-lyman Description: A time-traveling Pero. A modern woman trying her best. A kitchen full of possibility. A helping of Midwestern kindness. A dash of magic. And a whole lot of Christmas spirit. My thoughts: Time travel, magic, witches, and a smutty Hallmark Christmas movie vibe? I lived the dream reading this. The romantic/Hallmark movie tropes alone are enough for this fic to qualify for this category.

Final Note: I've read so much this year. I wanted to include more but realized if I did I'd be writing in all my favorites and that would take a long time. Look into my "Fanfic Favorites" and "Pedro Pascal Characters" tag plus other tags on my blog. I reblog a lot. They all deserve attention.

[gravity-barbie]

Telling The Sparrows you’re pregnant HCs

Request

Umbrella version

Masterlist

Marcus Hargreeves

-Marcus is over the moon to hear the good news, elated at the thought of having a mini-him running around and starting a real family with you

-He responds with a lot of love and enthusiasm, feeling closer to you than he’s ever felt to anyone and wanting to make sure you feel the same way too

-But he’s of course also conflicted over his loyalties to his siblings, the sparrow academy was the only thing that gave him purpose before you and he doesn’t know if he can give that part of himself up

-He wants to tell his child stories of his adventures saving the world, and for them to be able to say their dad is a superhero, but he also wants to be a more present and protective father than Reginald was to him

-One things for sure and that’s he’ll have your back no matter what, and he trusts you to help him make the right decision

Ben Hargreeves

-Ben freezes up a bit when you tell him, his neuroticism getting the best of him as all the things that could go wrong occur to him all at once

-But he isn’t one to shy away from challenges so he quickly swallows his nerves and embraces this turn of events, reacting with confidence and reassurance

-He isn’t typically great at being sweet or comforting but he loves you and has faith that you’ll be a great parent and that shines through

-He’s insistent on you having the best of the best during your pregnancy, from your doctors to your maternity clothes and he has the resources to get you it

-It’s a realisation he comes to slowly, but this is the best thing that could of happened to him, the love and purpose he gets from you and the child completely surpassing what he got from the sparrow academy and making him wonder how he ever considered that place to be enough for him

Fei Hargreeves

-Fei’s heart skips a beat but she hides it well

-She stays calm, asking a few questions before she allows herself to react

-But once she’s addressed all her concerns and gotten a good idea about how you’re feeling, she’s absolutely thrilled and rushes to celebrate with you

-She’s very considerate of your feelings and needs right off the bat, consistently quick to check in and help you where she can

-She’s very involved in the pregnancy process, talking to every doctor you see, joining you for any class you go to and so on

Alphonso Hargreeves

-It takes Alphonso a moment for what you’re saying to sink in, feeling suddenly very unprepared to take this step forward

-He cracks a few too many jokes attempting to cut the tension he feels, and keep you uplifted

-He’s a bit worried that he doesn’t have what it takes to be a parent, he can be so immature and snarky, but he finds confidence in your confidence in him and figures he can handle anything as long as he has you

-He’s quick to show you his support despite his concerns

-The more he thinks about it the happier he gets, envisioning scenarios of the three of you living more domestic life that he hadn’t really considered before but warms to quickly

Sloane Hargreeves

-Sloane can’t contain her excitement, she’s literally floating

-She’s quick to hug you as she tells you how much she loves you and how happy she is

-She easily notices if you have doubts and is very good at removing those worries with both compassion and logic

-If there’s anything that can make her put the sparrow academy behind her it’s this

-She immediately wants you two to start planning your future, eager to think up baby names, look at homes, shop for nursery supplies, ect

Jayme Hargreeves

-You actually get a couple of facial expressions out of Jayme when you tell her, a small gasp that gives way to an even smaller smile

-She has her worries but she keeps them pretty close to her chest and they don’t weigh too heavily on her

-She’s relaxed but helpful, focusing on making sure you’re okay and getting an idea of your headspace and plans

-She has a good head on her shoulders that can foil any unreasonable anxieties you may have, she actually has a pretty calming presence when around you

-You wouldn’t necessarily know it, considering her stoic demeanour but she is actually quite excited to take this step with you

[broiderie]

Part 7 of Lost Princessa

Please do not translate, duplicate, or move any of my writing to other platforms. My demented mind does not need the help.

Warnings: cursing, panic attack, slow burn flirting. Let me know if I missed anything.

Taza x Daughter!OC, Megan x ?? eventual

Thanks to @drabbles-mc for listening to me throw things around for this.

P.S. I gave in and got a chromebook for typing this so I wasn't doing it on my phone all the time! Please ignore the formatting with the swap from bold to regular. I'll fix it later. Enjoy.

A few hours later, Megan was slowly getting comfortable in the club house. She had gotten behind the bar and re-arranged the station to make things easier for herself. Upon discovering that apparently the bar was tended by giants before, she had tried to move things to lower shelves where she could reach. Hank, of course, spotted her as she started to climb shelves and counters. He had sighed and come to help her. “I’m going to start calling you el mico if you don’t stop climbing things, Princessa. Let me help.”

They had chatted quietly while they worked and Hank had even made her laugh again. It seemed to be a goal of his to make her laugh as much as possible. 

Coco came to the bar and leaned on it. “Alright, Ma. You can’t hide back there all day. Come play a game of pool.”

Megan seemed to tense when she realized that Coco was there and they weren’t alone. “I’m not hiding, Coco. Just getting things set up. You need another drink?”

“Nah. You two need to come have some fun.” He slapped a palm on the bar. “You two against me and Gilly. C’mon Princessa.”

Hank smiled at his brother. “We’ll be there in a minute, Coco.” As Coco walked away, Hank wiped his hands on a bar towel before handing it to her to do the same. “Coco’s right. You shouldn’t be working off the clock anyway. C’mon. Let’s go beat their asses in pool.”

Megan laughed. “And if I don’t know how to play?”

Hank’s answer slipped out before he could sensor it. “Gives me an excuse to teach you.” His cheeks immediately warmed in embarrassment.

Megan threw her head back and laughed. “Guess I’ll play dumb then.”

Taza watched the whole interaction from the table with Marcus and Bishop. He couldn’t help the smile he had. His daughter was getting more comfortable. Especially with Hank. Her personality was starting to shine through that shyness and he couldn’t wait to see more of it.

Alvarez and Bishop had noticed it too.

“I think la princessa is on her way to becoming Hank’s reina,” Alvarez said before he sat back in his chair with a smile.

“Did you see his face when she walked in?” Bishop asked the other two men. “I swear, he had to pick his jaw up off the floor.”

Taza chuckled. “You should have seen him this morning while they were making breakfast.”

“He stayed the night?” Alvarez asked.

“Mmmhmm. Said he wanted to be a buffer if we needed one. It was like pulling teeth to separate them for a few minutes.” Taza grinned. “It was kinda cute watching Hank trip all over himself and be domestic.”

They watched as Hank fought his instinct to guide Megan with a hand on her waist to the pool table.

Bishop snorted. “Puppy love. Nothing like it.”

Taza chuckled. “Were we that awkward with women?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not me… and definitely not Romeo here.” He nudged Bishop who just smiled.

For the first rounds of turns in the pool game, Megan really did act clueless. Coco and Gilly were fallinging all over themselves to give her pointers, but she only looked to Hank for “help”. Hank chuckled and took the excuse to stand behind her and line up her shots. He could feel her moving the que on her own and had a feeling that she was faking needing the assist.

Sure enough - Coco and Gilly won and immediately called for a rematch “now that you know the rules, Princessa…”

“You can even break, Ma…” Coco said, smoking yet another cigarette. 

Megan looked up at Hank and winked when the younger boys weren’t looking. “Okay, but I’m not very good at this…”

“Aww, you’re doing great sweetheart. Give it a shot.” Gilly turned on the charm. “Maybe you better let me help you with this game, huh?”

Megan chalked her que as Hank racked the balls for her and smiled sweetly at Coco’s bear of a best friend. “You’re sweet…” She leaned over and lined up the break shot sinking a solid quickly. She then preceded to run the table on them- sinking ball after ball. “Eight ball - left corner pocket.” She sank it easily before grinning at the slack jawed men. “I guess Hank’s a better teacher than you thought.”

There was a round of applause from her father and godfathers’ table, so she turned and gave them a joking curtsy.

“... how the FUCK did you do that?” Gilly asked, still dumbfounded.

Hank chuckled and put his pool que back in the stand. Gilly looked at him. “Did you know she could do that?”

“Nope, but I hope someone got it on video. Your faces were priceless.”

Megan sauntered back over with her hands in her back pockets and a shit-eating grin on her face. “You know… for outlaw bikers y’all sure are ebay to hustle in pool.”

Coco couldn’t resist throwing an arm over her shoulders and gently shaking her. “It’s the big eyes. You look so innocent, Ma.”

She ducked out of his grip laughingly, but quickly made her way back to Hank’s side. Hank noted the tension in her shoulders and ran a gentle hand down her back to soothe it. When he started to remove his hand again, she subtly shifted to keep it at the small of her back and relaxed into it.

She continued chatting with his brothers for a few more minutes. Gilly started calling her “tiburón” and laughing.

“You know… no one has translated these nicknames that I keep collecting. Y’all wanna help a girl out here?”

EZ brought more beers for the guys and offered one to Megan who turned it down.

Coco puffed a smoke ring and chuckled. “You know some of them.”

“Well… Taza’s ‘chica’ I know and ‘princessa’ is obvious- but the rest are way beyond me.” She leaned a little more into Hank’s arm and shifted her weight. 

About then Taza joined them. “Your tíos call you ‘poquito’ which means ‘little bit’. Tiburón is shark.” He smiled and offered her a bottle of water which she gratefully took.

She looked up at Hank. “You called me another one earlier. What was it?”

Hank chuckled. “Mico. It means monkey.”

She grinned and wrinkled her nose at him. “I like Princessa better.”

“Noted.” He slipped his arm further around her waist so that his huge hand rested on her hip and she was closer to his side.

“Now, Chica, do you want to go home before we go to the party? We’ve got a few hours, but Bish wants me to run by the church with him.” Taza grinned. “Gotta talk to the padre.”

She laughed at her father’s excitement about getting to do something traditional for her. “I’d like to change my shirt and grab my flannel before the party tonight, but you go deal with the preacher. Are all three of you going?”

“Yeah. I can drop you off if you need stuff.” She could tell he was reluctant to leave her alone. 

Hank spoke up. “I don’t mind running her to your place, Taza. I need to run some prescriptions to the pharmacy for Mom anyway before the party.”

She smiled up at him. “You sure you don’t mind? I’ll be okay like I am.”

“I’m sure, Princessa.”

Taza tried to cover his smile by running a hand down his face, but Coco caught it and grinned back, Gilly was oblivious. 

“You’re coming to Vicki’s? Why?” Gilly asked confused.

“I’m the new club bartender.”

Gilly’s face lit up. “You gotta promise to play pool with Angel tonight! I can’t wait to see his face…”

They all laughed.

“Alright then, Chica. You got the key I gave you?” Taza asked.

“Yep,” she pulled the shiny new house key on a Harley Davidson keychain out of her pocket to display it proudly.

“Good. Hank, make her eat something please?” Taza asked as he pattes Hank’s shoulder in farewell. Megan surprised him by stepping out of Hank’s arm and hugging him tight around the middle. Taza gently returned the hug and cleared his throat. “I’ll meet you at Vicki’s, Chica.”

“Ride safe."

“Always.”

As the three older men left, Megan stepped back close to Hank. Her shoulders tense as she realized that she was outside of her father’s protection for the first time since meeting him. Her breathing picked up a little and her hands started to shake. 

“Looks like it’s time for Hank to take la princessa to find something to eat,” Coco said as he noted the slight shake of her hands. “Your blood sugar dropping again, ma?”

She smiled weakly at Coco. “Maybe. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

Hank slid his arm back around her waist as if to support her. That’s when he felt the tension in her muscles that she was trying so hard to hide. “C’mon, Princessa. Let’s get you fed.” He waved Coco’s concern off - but accepted the pack of crackers he slipped him for her- and led her outside to his bike.

Taza had sat her helmet and jacket on the seat of Hank’s bike for her. 

As soon as they reached the bike, Hank sat her sideways on it and squatted down to be eye level with her. “Breathe, Princessa. Deep breaths. C’mon. Good girl. Again.” As the shaking calmed, Hank placed a gentle hand on her knee. “Better?”

She nodded. “S-sorry.”

“No apologies, Princessa. Do you know what caused it?”

She nodded again and muttered, “Taza left.”

Hank frowned. “Do you want me to call him back or take you to him? He wouldn’t have left if he knew you would be frightened.”

This time she shook her head. “No. I’m not scared. Just…”

“Just what, Princessa?”

“Just the first time he’s left me since we met. I”m okay. Just… he’s safety.”

“An anxiety attack. It’s okay. You sure you don’t want me to take you to him? I will. Taza’s dealt with a lot worse that you wanting to be near him.” Hank cracked a small smile. 

“I’m sure. You’re safety too.” She reached out to touch his shoulder. 

“Okay. I like that.” He patted her hand and stood. “Let’s go eat something and drop this stuff off for my mom, okay. Then you can decompress a bit at the ranch.”

He took her to a food truck in town and ordered them both tacos which they sat on the curb to eat. She sat close to him and he watched as she slowly relaxed with him in public. By the end of their meal her smile was back and as long as he was the only person close to her - he shoulders relaxed too. 

At the pharmacy, he dropped his mother’s prescriptions off and spoke with the man behind the counter while she looked at the makeup on the aisle nearest him. Just out of arms reach in the small store. 

Hank realized that she didn’t have makeup on. He didn’t think he had seen her with it on at all. When he finished at the counter, he joined her in the aisle. “See anything you need?”

She laughed. “Nah. I don’t even know what half this shit is. I occasionally use eyeliner and mascara. The rest of this shit is a complete mystery to me.”

Hank chuckled. “Okay, Princessa. You ready to do get changed for the party?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

At the ranch, Megan asked “How much time until we need to be at the party?”

“We’ve got about three hours or so. Vicki’s is about twenty minutes from here, so we don’t have far to drive.”

“Oh good. Do you think Taza would mind me going to see the horse?” She played with the ends of her braid.

“Nah. He won’t mind. Want company?” Hank was slightly eager to see her in her element. Taza has mentioned how happy and relaxed being around the animals made her.

“Sure.”

They went out the back door and Megan made for the fence to the pasture. Once there she climbed up to sit on the top rail facing the horses in the distance. Hank braced his folded arms next to her and didn’t speak. He just left her to relax for a few minutes.

After a while the buckskin Rocket wandered over to investigate them. He recognized Megan’s scent and nuzzled her knee with his nose. It was like a switch flipped. Megan completely relaxed as soon as she touched the horse. She petted him contentedly and smiled softly.

As she petted, she started talking. “Back home - everyone rides. I was the odd one out at twelve years old and never having been on a horse before. My last foster home had horses and part of my chores was caring for them. My foster brother was a rodeo rider and decided that he’d rather not pay a warm-up rider to keep his horse warm between events. His solution was to throw me on his giant horse to ride between events when he was supposed to be watching me.” She started braiding a bit of the horse’s dark mane. “He was too busy trying to score with the barrel racers to watch me, so some of the older cowboys taught me to ride between their events. It got to the point where they were actively using me as an exercise rider too and would slip me money for the concession stand and stuff. A few years later I met Terry. He was looking for a girl to ride a horse he had bought in barrel racing. He signed me to his team and I started making money at it so my foster parents let me keep at it until I emancipated when I graduated. Then Terry rented me out a tiny apartment in his barn loft until he had to sell the horses.”

Hank didn’t want to press her, but wanted to see how much she’d tell him. “Where’d you go after that?”

“A few rat hole apartments that I never actually saw much of because of my work schedule. I got by until I could start bartending. I missed riding though.”

Hank smiled. “I can tell. We’ll try to get Taza some time to take you out in the next few days.”

She laughed. “Not until I can buy a saddle that fits. Taza has two, but I’m too short for them. I’d look like a flea on an elephant’s ass.”

Hank snorted and it startled Rocket so that he pranced back off into the pasture. “Sorry, Princessa.”

She laughed at the young horse’s antics. “Nah. I need to go change. Now my jeans are covered in horse hair.”

Hank offered her a hand to help her balance as she climbed down and they headed back inside. “Take your time, Princessa. No rush.”

She slipped off to her room to wash up and change for work. When she finished she found Hank on the phone with Taza.

“Yes, brother, I fed her. We got tacos on the way to the pharmacy. She’s okay. She’s changing now. We went out to see the horses for a bit before she washed up so she’s happy as can be.” He paused as Taza obviously answered him. “We’ll head out that way when she’s ready. Don’t fuss. You sound like my grandmother. Yes, I’ll make sure of it. See you there.” He hung up.

“What are you making sure of?” she asked, laughing.

“That you wear long sleeves under your jacket. It gets chilly without the sun....” Hank turned to face her and froze.

“What? Do I need to change?” She self-consciously looked down at her dark washed jeans and Mayan green shirt. She had her new boots in her hand.

Hank snapped out of it and cleared his throat. “No, Princessa. You look great. You just… surprised me.”

She looked at him kind of funny. “Surprised you how?”

He reached out a cautious hand to brush her hair back over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair unbraided.”

“Oh! Yeah.” She held up her wrist to display a hair tie wrapped securely around it. “I needed to brush it out and it wouldn’t cooperate, so I’m hoping that Taza can braid it for me before my shift starts.”

“Ah.” His eyes were still captivated by her long hair as the light from the window caught it just right to pick up all the colors in the dark strands.

She smiled and sat down to put her boots on. Her hair fell back over her shoulders as she bent over and Hank suddenly realized that there wasn’t a solid back to the shirt. From just below her shoulder blades to her collar was a cut out that had been filled in with soft white lace. He could see colors moving on her skin before the lace, but they weren’t bruises this time. That was definitely a tattoo.

“You’re inked?” he smiled.

“Yep. Was my graduation present to myself.” She tied bother her boots and smiled up at him again.

“What is it? I can see the colors, but can’t make out the design.” He tilted his head for a better look and she giggled.

“The colors are starting to fade, so I’ll have to go to y’alls tattoo artist for a touch up when I can afford it.” She turned her back to him and guided the hair out of his way.

Through the delicate lace he could make out the basic shape of the tattoo that sat directly between her shoulder blades. The colors were just a wash of watercolor blending in a rainbow. “Is it a dreamcatcher?”

“Mmmhmm”

“Bet that watercolor hurt like a bitch over your spine.”

She laughed. “It did. And now I gotta do it again to get it touched up.”

“You do realize that we have a chair at the club house for a reason, right?” It was Hank’s turn to surprise her.

“Yeah? Who’s your artist?”

Hank chuckled and decided to play with her a little more. “Well mine is a guy from another club who we ally with. Everyone else’s is me.”

Her eyes widened slightly and she laughed a little, “You? DId you do Taza’s?”

“A few. His forearm piece he already had when we met, but I did the tribal stuff on his other arm.”

“Wow! I love his shoulder piece.”

Hank smiled. “Once you settle in, I’ll touch up your ink for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You ready to head out? We’ll be a little early, but Taza is already on his way there.”

“Sure. Let me grab my flannel so he doesn’t get onto you for my lack of long sleeves.” She smiled impishly and grabbed the blue and green plaid flannel shirt she'd been wearing when they met so that they could head out to the party at the brothel.

[forever-rogue]

Hello! If possible could I request from Prompt List 3 under fluff and romance? There wasn't a number, but it was, “You’re basically a marshmallow. Perfect for cuddling.” with any of the Marcuses! :')

I had to go with one Marcus Moreno because I am soft for him 🥺💕

Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none

Pedro Characters Masterlist 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Are you cold?" the tone of amusement in his voice was evident as you turned and narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. You huffed lightly before sticking your tongue out at him, causing him to break into a wicked grin and giggle wildly. You froze as you stared at him, mesmerized by his breathtaking smile and the way his eyes crinkled in the corner as he laughed, along with the dimples that made their appearance. Marcus Moreno was a handsome man, and how you got lucky enough to call him your own, you’d never know. 

“It’s freezing,” you insisted as you held out your arms and gestured to the glittering snow piled high all around you, “of course I’m cold! I wasn’t prepared for...this.”

“Honey,” he calmed himself from his laughter as he made his way over to you, finding it a small struggle from all the snow that littered the ground, “when I said we were going away for the weekend to the mountains in the middle of winter...what did you expect?”

“I dunno,” you pouted at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he held his own arms open to wrap you up, “not quite this much cold. I’m wearing like twenty layers and I’m still freezing, I have no clue how people manage to survive this. I thought it would be a nice quiet anniversary thing...ie.”

“Okay, now you’re just being dramatic,” he raised an eyebrow in amusement as he stepped closer and wrapped you up in his arms before you sighed contentedly, “sometimes I wonder if Missy learns from you or you learn from her?”

But there was a wicked little grin on his face and you almost instantly knew what he was up to. You pulled out of his arms and tried to create a space between the two of you, already holding up your hands in defense. Oh no - no, no, no. You knew him well enough to know exactly where this was going. 

"Marcus Moreno!" you hastily backed up and tried to behind a tree as Marcus reached down and scooped up a handful of snow, and quickly formed an almost perfect snowball, "if you know what's good for you, you won't do it!"

"Come on, honey," his voice was colored with amusement as he tried to run over to you but you weaved your way through some trees. You were both laughing as you tried to escape to safety and he started throwing some soft snowballs at you, "we're just having fun!"

"No!" you dodged another snowball, hastily leaning down and scooping up your own handful. You didn't even try to form it in anything before lobbing it over your shoulder at him.

"Nice try," he somehow had managed to evade you and make his way in front of you. You squealed in surprise as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, "gotcha!"

"Cheater!" you giggled as you tried to pull out of his grasp, but he was feeling particularly devilish and started to tickle your sides, "no fair, no fair! You're playing dirty!

"I'm just having some fun!" he insisted as slowed down his assault before making sure you didn't fall into the cold snow from your breathless laughter. He brought you to feet and held you tightly against his chest. He gave you a gentle little grin before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Very funny,” you playfully groaned as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. His touch was like fire, sending sparks up and down your spine. Despite how long the two of you had been together, nearing almost two years now, he still managed to make you feel like you were falling in love all over again. And in a way, you supposed you were; you were always continually falling for Marcus and the million ways he always seemed to dazzle you. There were soft flakes coming down and a few landed in his dark hair; you couldn’t stop yourself as you reached over and tenderly swept them away. Marcus couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips, “can we please go inside and get warm? I think there’s hot cocoa calling my name.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough,” he agreed, reaching down and grabbing your hand, trying his best to hold yours despite the thick mittens you both were sporting. You watched him struggle for a moment before he finally managed a gentle hold, “there.”

“Hey,” you said as he looked at you curiously with that boyish charm all over his face, “I love you. Like really, really love you.”

“That’s good,” a light tinge of pink rose up in his cheeks, this one decidedly not due to the chill of cool breeze, “because I really, really love you.”

“Enough to get me inside and warm?”

“Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as you stepped out of the shower, already feeling infinitely warmer and refreshed, you pulled on the softest and coziest pajamas you had packed. You’d brought a few...sexier pieces, but decided that those could wait for later. You doubted Marcus would mind, if anything they’d be a good surprise for later. RIght now all that was on your mind was getting warm and comfy. 

Eyeing the huge, fluffy white duvet on the large bed, you quickly gathered it up in your arms before padding down the hall and into the open spacious living room. The little cabin he had rented for your surprise trip was lovely and quaint, almost picturesque enough to be out of a movie. Ever the amazing man he was, Marcus has started a fire that was merrily crackling away and had set the television on Netflix.

“Honey?” he called to you from the kitchen, where you could already hear him chopping and cutting away at something. You threw the large blanket onto the couch before flopping down on it.

“It’s me,” you confirmed as you keened your ear and found that he was listening to some soft music in the background, humming along to it lightly. It was all these little things, so simple, so domestic, but so endearing that still managed to take your breath away and remind you of how much he meant to you, “love, do you need a hand? I thought we were just going to make hot cocoa.”

“Just making a little snack,” he called back, “just get settled and find something to watch!”

“Are you-”

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” you could practically hear him smiling as you burrowed your way under the big blanket, cocooning up in it so only your face was sticking out. Grabbing the remote, you started scrolling through Netflix as you listened to him messing about in the kitchen. 

Eventually you settled on a new show you’d both mentioned watching, getting it all set up as you waited for him. True to his word, it was only a few minutes before he came into view, a large tray filled with snacks and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in his hands. 

“Marcus,” you shook your head in amusement as you slowly sat up, “you said a snack...this is….”

“This is the snack,” he moved his head in the direction of the tray before setting it down on the coffee table. He took a step back and pointed at himself, “and this is the whole damn meal.”

You burst into a fit of laughter as grinned sheepishly at you. You were beside yourself as he just looked so proud of his little joke, “Marcus Moreno - where on earth did you hear that? Who taught you that!?”

“I think I heard Missy say something like that once,” he admitted as he came over and you made room for him on the spacious couch, “or maybe it was on some show...isn’t that something the kids say?”

“I’m sure there’s some kids that do,” you reached over and gently touched his face, brushing your fingers over his cheek before kissing him softly, “but you’re right. You are the whole damn meal.” 

“And you - you’re basically a marshmallow. Perfect for cuddling,” he gently poked the big, puffy blanket. You lifted an arm and offered him some blanket so he could properly cuddle you and get warm as well. Instead of accepting your offer, he did one better and pulled into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist as you made sure the blanket was covering both of you, “hi.”

“Hi,” you whispered before nuzzling your nose against his and gently kissing him. Even these types of kisses, so tender and slow, were wonderful. Every touch, every taste, everything was so sacred and intimate. You almost sighed contentedly into his touch as you wrapped your arms around his neck and laid against him, feeling his heartbeat against your chest, “you made a charcuterie board. How very fancy Mr. Moreno, are you trying to woo me?”

“Always,” he insisted as he traced featherlight, aimless shapes along your back, “I figured we could be fancy adults for once.”

“It’s greatly complimented by the hot cocoa,” you teased as you placed a few kisses along his jaw. You swore you could feel his heart flutter wildly at your words and kisses, which both was and wasn’t odd for him. You knew he was big into touch and gentle words, and he always relished in your praise. But today, in this moment something felt...different. Not bad...but different, “Marcus? Is everything alright, love?”

“I…” he paused for a moment and you pulled back, looking at him nervously. His soft brown eyes were filled with a mixture of emotions, but the corners of his lips tugged into a soft smile.  He brought his hands to the side of your face, cradling it gently as you just watched him with a reverent expression. It was the soft look on your face that caused him to finally break, “marry me?”

“I…” you looked at him with wide eyes as butterflies erupted in your stomach. Surely...surely he couldn’t have said that...right? His own expression was almost as nervous as you felt and maybe...he had said those two little words. You tilted your head to the side as you felt your eyes start to sting with the familiar burn of tears, “I...what?”

“I-I-I know it’s not...I had this planned out better,” he stammered nervously, “I had a whole...well, I guess not. But I just...I’ve been wanting to ask for so long and the timing just never seemed to work out, and I don’t want to wait any more.”

“Marcus…” he held up a finger quickly as he shifted slightly and reached into his pocket and slowly fished out a small ring box. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly as you realized that he must have been carrying it around all day, if not longer. He laughed nervously before opening the box and showing you the gorgeous ring that was nestled among the velvet inside, “oh Marcus.” 

“I’ve had this for so long now, and I just think it’s time,” he admitted softly, “I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you...you are everything. I never thought...I never thought I would love someone again, that life would ever get better than what it was, but then I met you. You came into my life, Missy’s life, and made everything so much better. There is no one I would rather by my side than you. I guess I should rephrase this better, but will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you whispered softly, overwhelmed by his soft declaration and the way he looked at you like you had hung all the stars in the night sky, “of course, I’ll marry you, Marcus. Nothing in the world would make me happier than being your wife. You and Missy are the best things that ever happened to me.”

He beamed at you before wiping away the few tears that had run down your cheeks before pulling the ring out of the box and slipping it onto your finger. It fit perfectly, like it had always been meant to be there, neither too large or small, but just...perfect. You couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, melting into his touch, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask for so long.”

“How long?” you asked curiously, running your fingers through his dark locks, “how long have you had the ring, silly?”

“A while,” he admitted as you raised your eyebrows in amusement, “I bought after we’d been dating for a few months.”

“Marcus,” you threw your back with laughter, filling the room with his favorite sound in the world, “love, we’ve been together for two years now.”

“I know,” he admitted with a small grin, “I just...I never knew when to ask. I always knew it was you, so the timing didn’t really matter, but I wanted to do it right. And yet...I still didn’t really do it right.”

“You did,” you promised softly, “it would always be perfect because it’s you, and anything with you is just...right. I love you, Marcus. This was perfect, trust me.”

“I love you,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “now, let’s eat and drink the cocoas before it gets cold. We can celebrate more later, and tell everyone then.”

“Let’s wait until we get home,” you suggested, “I want to tell Missy first, in person, and your mom. Then we can tell everyone else. I want to make sure Missy knows first though.”

“She’ll love that,” he agreed, his expression soft beyond words, “she’s been pushing me to ask anyway...she’ll have her little I told you so moment.”

“As she should,” you grinned before moving off of his lap and grabbing your cocoas, “come on then, Mr. Moreno, let’s get warm and relax - I think I heard something about cuddles.”

“Anything for you, Mrs. Moreno.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 4/5

summary: after a few months of slightly chaotic bliss, you & marcus start to think about the next steps in your relationship. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing 

this is up a little later than i wanted & i do apologise, i once again stayed up all night and i cannot recount a single thing i’ve done. enjoy!

- jazz

Things between you and Marcus quickly fell into a routine.

You kind of had to when you both had kids; their lives needed structure. Depended on it, in fact. It wasn’t long before both of your lives were entangled in more ways than one, mostly for the sake of Missy and Jack having security around them but also because things between you were so good. Neither of you were trying to rush by any means, but when it worked, it worked. You were both good at communicating with each other - not that many issues really cropped up - and you both understood that your children came first. Things progressed easily and naturally, and he made you feel secure enough that you didn’t have to question whether or not it was too good to be true. 

Five months had quickly passed and you were both comfortable. Marcus Moreno was your boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. Okay, it had been at first - especially the first time he planted a kiss on your lips in front of the minivan brigade - but now? It was normal. It felt like he’d always been there, and you took it as a good sign. You got on well with Missy, especially since she’d witnessed your spat with Carol and started to think the world of you, and Jack...well, he was obsessed with Marcus. You couldn’t blame the kid. 

‘Jack! Put the soup down!’ 

It was another one of those mornings. It was a Sunday, so you didn’t have to worry about getting up early for school or work but you’d been at Marcus’ till late the night before. You and Jack ended up spending a lot of time at his; there was a swimming pool and a big garden for Optimus Prime to run around in, so it tired both of your tiny spawns out, which worked in your favour.

 Even when the kid had spent four hours swimming last night, he’d still risen that morning at 6AM like Jesus Christ on the third day. You’d woken to find the kitchen covered in smashed eggs and ham, then your oven had broken and the toilet was blocked again. 

You’d been halfway through reversing the problem when you’d heard Jack shuffling in the kitchen. You were stood in the hallway, still in your pyjamas, with a toilet brush in one hand and the other balled up into a fist. 

‘Jack, the soup is about to-’

You paused mid-sentence, watching as the bowl he was trying to reach for toppled straight off of the counter. You’d only washed his hair ten minutes ago, and you might as well have not fucking bothered because it was now covered in chunky vegetable soup. And the Chewbacca onesie he loved so much? Trying to peel that off him for the next few hours to wash the Heinz out of it was going to be a whole task in itself. You’d only just been to the laundrette the day before, and you’d gotten to the point in life where having a place with its own washing machine was a sign of success. 

‘Mum, there’s soup in my hair.’

‘It’s okay.’ You took a moment to breath. ‘We are not going to cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’

‘Wasn’t talking to you, buddy.’ You rubbed your temples for a moment. ‘C’mon, let’s go hop in the bath.’

So much of parenting was just...stopping to breath. Stopping to take a moment to remind yourself that although your love for your child was unwavering and unconditional, you sometimes felt like screaming. All you’d done for the last five hours was go in circles, cleaning and lecturing and cleaning some more. It made you wish you were at work that day, because at least then you could have conversations with people that weren’t about what cheese they wanted for lunch or what cartoon they wanted to watch. 

‘I just had a bath.’ Jack muttered. 

‘Yeah well, you need another one.’ You took another deep breath. ‘I’ll be there in a minute-’

‘- I don’t want a bath!’

‘And I don’t want a kid that’s covered in soup!’ You shot back. ‘C’mon, buddy. Just do as I say, please?’

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. You frowned for a moment - you weren’t expecting anyone. There was no post on Sundays and you hadn’t seen your landlord since the day you’d moved in. Your nosey neighbour knocked sometimes, usually asking about the noise (he didn’t have kids, clearly) and you were this close to telling him to mind his own fucking business. 

‘I swear to god, if that’s David again, I am going to shove this can of soup up his - Marcus!’ You almost did a double take when you saw your boyfriend stood at the door - he really chose his times, didn’t he? You hadn’t even had time to put the fucking toilet brush down. ‘Hey.’ 

‘Hey, baby.’ He greeted you slowly, eyes slowly taking in your appearance (and not in a sexy way). ‘Were you not expecting me?’

‘Shit, did we have plans?’ Your eyes widened. 

‘No, but Jack called. He said you’d asked him to ask me to come over, but I realise half way through that sentence that starting with Jack called probably means you had no idea.’ He offered you a goofy smile. ‘He said that the sofa had exploded and that you needed help.’

There was a lot to unpack there. When had Jack done that? More to the point, when had he learnt to use the phone? How had he worked out your phone password? The kid couldn’t do up his own velcro and now he was a Russian hacker, apparently. 

‘Oh my god.’ You groaned. ‘I am so sorry. Things have been batshit here this morning and I’m sure he had my best interests in his weird little heart, but he made you come all this way-’

‘- Marcus!’ Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed past you, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ waist. He leant down to pick him up, lifting him off the ground - albeit at a distance, due to Soupgate. 

‘Hey, buddy.’ He greeted him. ‘You been causing trouble again?’

‘Not on purpose.’ Jack replied. ‘Mum says I need another bath.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Marcus said. ‘Why don’t you go pick out some clothes and come back in a minute, yeah?’

‘Okay!’ Seemingly impressed by the newfound trust in him to choose an outfit, Jack wriggled himself back down to the floor, trotting towards his bedroom. Seriously, how did Marcus do that? Perhaps his ability to have authority over your archaic child was another hidden power of his. 

‘You look like you need a break, baby.’ He reached out, gently running a hand down your arm.

‘I’m fine, he’s just been a lot today.’ You sighed.

‘You have soup on your shirt and fluff in your hair.’

‘Couch stuffing.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s couch stuffing. Except that was Optimus Prime and not Jack, which makes a nice change.’ You muttered.

‘Look, Missy is at her abuela’s today and she’s been begging for ages to see Jack again.’ He said. ‘What d’you say I drive him over there, you clean up and we hang out? Just us, no kids, no dogs, no stress.’

‘That sounds like a fucking dream.’ You couldn’t help but smile. ‘But Optimus has consumed half the couch and I gotta keep an eye on him-’

‘-we can bring him with us!’ Marcus grinned. ‘He loves the garden.’

‘Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you had work plans today and I don’t want you to cancel them on account for the fact I can’t control my own kid. Or life.’

‘You two come first.’ He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Three, including Optimus Prime.’

--

In the time it took Marcus to drive Jack to his mum’s and get back to yours, you were able to clean up. The apartment was still a state, but it hadn’t been properly tidy in...how many days had it been since Jack was born? Because it hadn’t been clean in exactly that many days. You felt a little bad dumping him on Anita when he was still covered in soup, but if anyone was able to wrestle him into the bath and some clean clothes, it was her. You’d met her a few times and she was absolutely lovely, but you had no doubt she could be terrifying when need be. She was the sort of woman you aspired to be.

By midday, you were driving out the city. There was music playing quietly over the radio and you were watching the houses go by; even though it was cold out, you had the heater on and you were bundled up in a leather jacket, Marcus’ scarf snugly around your neck. It smelt faintly of his aftershave, which had become one of your favourite scents over the last five months. The time had gone so quickly. You’d seen each other practically every day since then, and having the kids meant you’d been fallen into being domestic pretty quickly. The simplicity of it all - him and you and getting to this point so easily - was overwhelming in itself. 

Your first relationship had been so complicated - so finicky and filled with unnecessary arguments. That should have been a sign early on, but then you’d gotten pregnant with Jack and getting married had seemed like the obvious thing to do. His presence meant you wouldn’t have changed anything, not for the entire fucking world, but it made you a little sad to think about how long you’d wasted on what had clearly been the wrong person. Meanwhile, Marcus’ situation had been entirely different; he’d had the right person the first time around and then he’d lost them. You never felt like a replacement to his wife, or even thought about the notion, really. That had been another part of his life. You were a new part and it didn’t mean he was forgetting the past. The two could co-exist without taking away from each other. 

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Marcus observed. He moved one of his hands to rest on your leg, giving it a light squeeze. He did that a lot, usually whenever you were sat beside him at the table or on the sofa. It was just a him thing. 

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You tore your gaze away from the window. ‘My brain always goes a little into overdrive when things are quiet.’

He chuckled. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘You, actually.’ You tangled your fingers with his, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. ‘I was just thinking about lucky I am and how good things are, and how it almost feels too good to be true.’

‘Better believe it, baby.’ He replied. ‘Because it is true.’

‘I know.’ You peered over at him with a smile. ‘It’s just...my only perceptions of relationships were based on the single one I’ve had. Everything was so complicated and exhausting. This is completely different and it’s so nice. And normal. And I don’t know, that sounds stupid-’

‘- it’s not stupid at all.’ Marcus peered over at you, shaking his head. ‘It’s natural to be a little apprehensive after a bad relationship and if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to tell me. You know that, right?’

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just him, but you knew for certain that he meant that. There was sort of a silent agreement now that you were both in this for the long haul. Your mum had always said that you’ll know when you know but you’d always written that off. Mostly because you hadn’t known the first time round. But, now you did. You did know and though you weren’t going to admit that to Marcus, you never doubted him for a second. 

‘I do.’ You said. ‘But he’s in the past now - and hopefully it’s where he fucking stays.’

‘I have contacts. I can find him and set Miracle Guy on him.’ Marcus’ grin had returned. ‘Just say the word.’

‘You make a tempting offer.’ You smiled back at him. ‘But the past is the past and I’m ready to...slam the lid on that dumpster.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever want to come back into Jack’s life?’

You pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, but if he did, I dunno if I’d let him. I never wanna be the person who stops someone from seeing their kids but what he did was...it was unforgivable.’

‘You don’t have to make that decision until it actually happens.’ Marcus gently said. ‘And I’ll support whatever you choose.’

He pulled into the drive way of his house - his nice, clean, sofa-stuffing-and-soup free house. Optimus Prime leapt out the car as soon as the door was open, practically tearing past the two of you and down towards the yard. There was a moment of silence and then a splash!

‘Guess he found the pool.’ Marcus commented. ‘At least it’s heated, I s’pose.’

Truth be told, he loved having the three of you at his house. It felt like whatever had been missing before was slowly making an appearance as your relationship progressed. The irony was that you brought nothing but chaos and clutter with you, but that was exactly what made it feel like a home. It was small things; the painting that Jack had done for him at after school club was now hung up up on the fridge, and there was a photo of him and Missy on the fireplace with Optimus Prime. Half of the thousands of blankets of pillows that had been at your place had ended up on his sofa, thanks to the countless sleepovers. 

If he could have it his way, Marcus would have you live with here all the time. The energy that you and Jack brought made everything feel complete. He loved the evenings where Missy and Jack would play out in the pool, and you two would sit back inside, complaining about the cold. Then there were the nights where you’d take both the kids back here when he was working late, and he’d come home to find you piled on the couch watching an old movie, with your burnt cooking abandoned on the stove, surrounded by boxes of left over take out. It was the kind of thing that was so simple and so domestic, but it was everything he wanted. 

That was probably the flashpoint moment when Marcus Moreno realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He already knew he loved you - he’d worked that out about three months in, when you’d fallen asleep in one of his shirts whilst trying to wait up for him - but he hadn’t said it. He’d hinted at it and made back-handed comments but he’d barely admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. He knew what you and Jack had gone through before and it broke his entire fucking heart. You both deserved someone who stand by you and support you, someone who would embrace you both for the craziness and warm energy you brought everywhere with you. More than ever, he was realising he wanted to be that person who gave it you. After all, you’d made his life so much brighter without even trying.

Snapping out of his trance, Marcus looked over at you. You’d already ditched your shoes and dropped onto the sofa, pulling one of the blankets with you. This was exactly what you needed. A quiet house, your favourite person and a cable knit blanket. 

‘Hey, baby?’ 

You looked over at him, smiling at the name. ‘Yeah?’

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked in surprise, sitting up. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘You’ve never said it, but I can tell.’ You nodded, before offering a smile. ‘And I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’ He slowly approached you, dropping onto the sofa beside you and taking your hands in his. ‘I think I just got so caught up in everything and feeling everything that I forgot.’

‘Why are you apologising?’ You couldn’t help but scoff at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. ‘It’s your actions that say it, Marc. Hearing it is good but you showed it a long time ago.’

‘I know, but really you deserve to hear it everyday.’ He smiled against you, helping you move onto his lap. 

‘You do tell me everyday, with the things you do.’ You reminded him. ‘Like meeting me in the parking lot with coffee, or bribing Jack into going to bed early with video messages from your superheroes, or doing my grocery shopping when you know money is short.’

‘Why wouldn’t I do those things?’ Marcus seemed genuinely confused. ‘It’s you.’

‘I love you.’ You repeated the phrase. 

‘And I love you.’

He pulled you into another kiss - this time it was a little firmer, not unlike your second declaration of love. Marcus did all those things without thinking, simply out of his intense want for you to just be happy. He was the same with Missy, always doing little things to make her life easier just because. It was just part of who he was, and it made him happy to see his loved ones happy. 

With your body pressed against his and your hands tangled in your hair, Marcus realised he didn’t want you to ever leave again. He didn’t want you to have to drive home in the dark at ten because all of your stuff was on the other side of town. You did stay over sometimes, but then you’d have to creep out at 6AM with a sleeping Jack in your arms to get home in time to get ready. He wanted you here all the time. You should have been here all the time. 

‘Move in with me?’ 

He both did and didn’t mean to say it out loud. He did because he wanted you so badly to be a permanent fixture in the house, but he also didn’t because the idea might have been a little absurd. Was it too soon? What if you didn’t want to leave your place? He knew you loved your apartment. It was your home and had been for a long time.

‘What?!’ You suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide. 

‘I mean...if you want to.’ Marcus slowly said. ‘Hell, Missy and I can move to your place if that’s what you want. It might be tight but she loves the dog and I just want to be with you-’

‘- hey!’ You cut him off, planting your hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re rambling again, but that’s besides the point. I would love to live here.’

‘You would?’

‘I would.’ You smiled. 

It made sense. Aside from the glaringly obvious fact you wanted to, it was also practical. It was closer to the school, closer to your work and it had a fucking swimming pool. Marcus was already clearly financially secure and moving in wouldn’t mean relying on him, but it would have meant that things for Jack were a lot more stable. Missy loved the company of you both, and it meant she would finally have the dog she wanted so bad. 

‘Missy would be okay with it, right?’ You asked.

‘She was the one who put the idea in my head, actually.’ Marcus admitted. ‘I’d thought about it but then she kind of asked in passing why you don’t live here, and I couldn’t give her an answer.’

‘Your kid is smart.’

‘D’you think Jack will-’

‘- I’m going to stop you there.’ You cut him off.

‘Right, I probably don’t need to ask that question.’ He chuckled.

‘Exactly.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Don’t forget the dog, either.’

‘How could I? I can literally see him peeing on my lawn right now.’

‘Our lawn.’

--

Exactly three weeks later - and after a hefty amount of paperwork and hours of sorting through Jack’s endless amounts of crap that he insisted on hoarding - moving day came. 

Anita had insisted on having the kids again. They were both excited, but perhaps a little too much. They were probably more likely to get in the way of things if anything. Children, a dog and large boxes? It seemed like a match made in hell. Plus, she had a whole ass training course in her back garden and if that didn’t wear the kid out, then you were definitely going to take him to the Heroics to get tested. The thought alone was enough to tire you out. 

You didn’t have too much stuff to move. You’d been half-moved into the damn place before Marcus had even made the formal proposal, so that made things a lot easier. You were keeping your sofa for Jack’s room, but the rest was going to Goodwill. Most of it had come from there in the first place.

‘I think that’s the last box.’ Marcus announced, exiting the bedroom. ‘I didn’t realise that a five year could own so many variations of storm-trooper toys.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You replied. ‘There’s the original trilogy ones, sequel trilogy ones, dark troopers, shock troopers, clone troopers - and I realise half way through listing them that you don’t care.’

‘I never said that!’ He placed his hands on your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m excited to learn.’

‘I’m sure Jack is excited to tell you.’ You grinned. 

Then, it faltered slightly with the realisation you were actually leaving this place. You’d never intended for it to be your permanent home, but it had still been the centre of your entire universe for half a decade. Every room told a story; the crayon marks on the bathroom wall, the dents behind the TV from, the crack in the living room mirror. All caused by Jack, naturally. The last five years was contained entirely within these four walls and you got bleary eyed at the idea of it becoming someone else’s. 

‘Hey, don’t cry.’ Marcus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek. 

‘You know, the rent is still paid till the end of the month so we could revisit the idea of you and Missy living here instead.’ You tearfully smiled. 

‘You’re kidding but you know I’ll do it.’ He pressed another kiss to your nose, grip on your arms tightening. 

‘It’s okay.’ You moved so that the kiss landed on your mouth instead, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. ‘I knew we were gonna outgrow this place. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

‘I know. Still kinda feels like it all came out of no-where, huh?’ He replied. ‘In the best way.’

‘You’re right. In the best way.’ You firmly nodded. ‘Can you believe I was 23 when I moved into this place? I found it on Craiglist within ten minutes of finding out I was pregnant.’

‘Do you wanna take a minute before we go?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ You shook your head. ‘We should get going.’

The apartment was just that: an apartment. And the house you were going to was just that: a house. But the people you were with? That’s what made it count. It wasn’t about the four walls or the roof over your head, or whether or not it had a big yard and a jacuzzi bath tub (though, that did help). It was about the laughter and warmth inside; the faces in the photos on the wall and the people you came home to after a long day. It was the smell of your burnt cooking and the pizza you’d ordered in place. It was Jack’s toys left in the exact place where someone could trip and it was Missy using all the hot water in the morning so that Marcus’ showers were practically arctic. It was everyday things that reminded you of the people around you; the people that made it home, and how lucky you were to have them.

That was home. And you’d found yours. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​ @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost

[danniburgh]

Can you please write something where is just domestic fluff like for example a day off and the reader gets Javi or Marcus or whoever you want, but he has to have a mustache, to do some cute skin care routine and the reader is like tenderly applying some facemask to him And she's on his lap and his hands are On her thighs, they just feel content and comfortable with each other and then it's just them having a nice relaxing Sunday off being achingly soft, like small intimate touches just for the sake of being close. I hope you have fun with this bc i certainly had it while thinking about it, love you and thanks. Xoxo 💋😘 soft Pedro Pascal supremacy

this is so fucking soft holy fucking shit AAAAAAAAAAAAA, so im gonna pick marcus pike bc i feel like hes soft as fuck and have never written him so let’s see how this gooooes

“Are you bored?” you asked him, turning around in the bed to face him, he did the same and the sheet that was covering his naked chest slid down to his navel.

“Are you?” Marcus asked back, smiling softly at you, his hand reached your forearm and his fingers caressed your skin.

It was sunday, the first day off Marcus had since god-knows-when. He was climbing ladders at work and that meant that sometimes he had to sacrifice his time for the sake of the task force he was now leading. But there had been a good streak and he got to take some time off. That only meant that he was in the house all day, and whilst you were buzzed to have him with you all the time, you had quickly ran out of things to do that were both fun and meaningul for both of you. The only one left was sex but you two had made love for hours the night before and your body was aching in protest.

“Kinda,” you muttered, his smile grew and he scoot closer to you in the bed, wrapping his arm around your belly.

“What do you wanna do?” his voice was soft and low, he nuzzled your cheek with his nose and you put a finger in your chin pretending to think. Marcus moved and started giving you kisses all around the face, starting with the cheek he was nuzzling then moving to your jaw, he kissed your finger over your chin and when you moved it he kissed the skin the finger was previously pressing on, his lips moved to your other cheek and you helped, turning slowly to the side, then he moved to your cheekbone and his lips pressed slightly your lid close, his ministration moved to your forehead where he left two kisses and then he trailed his lips down your nose, finishing with one on your lips.

“That,” you opened your eyes, and smiled at him. Admiring the way his lips curved up at the quirk of content in your face. His soft, warm, mahogany eyes looked deep inside yours and you leaned up to take his lips again. You cupped his face and sighed into his lips when your hand brushed softly his beard. God how you loved him in that beard.

When he broke the kiss you could see the way his eyes were almost hidden behind two dark, heavy bags and wondered if while working he took enough care of himself. Your fingers traced the underbags and the soft wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, he closed them, allowing you to keep touching him, then you traced his eyebrows and his nose, humming at the feeling of his dry skin.

“Mhm,”

“What?” Marcus opened his eyes and you winked at him.

“Come,” you wriggle under him, he moved and let you shift on the mattress to sit up, put on his shirt that was dangerously hanging of the corner of the bed. Marcus watched you as you padded away from him into the bathroom and he sat up on the bed, leaning against the headboard, the open door to the ensuite let him see you rummage around in the cabinet over the sink and you walked in with a small jar in your hand. 

His curious eyes followed you and you climbed back on the bed, as he didn’t followed you, you gave him another smile.

“What are you doing? baby,” he questioned softly when you straddled his lap.

“Shh,” he chuckled lightly at your reply, you opened the jar “hold this,” you ordered teasingly and he did, his hand looked comically large holding the small jar up and close to your chests. He saw you scooping a little bit of the white cream inside with two fingers.

“What is it?” Marcus asked, hissing slightly when you put it on his skin, it was cold,

“A nourishing mask,” you mumbled, his eyes were glued to your face and he smiled at the concentration in your face “it’ll help your skin, babe,”

Marcus let his free hand rest on your thigh while you rubbed the fresh cream on his face slowly.

“Eyes,” you said, he closed them and let his head fall back onto the headboard. He let out a quiet sigh when your fingers spread the cream under his eyes “good?”

“Very,” he whispered, you smiled contently, loving that you could make him feel good and at least bring him a little more comfort. His fingers started caressing your thigh and drawing sloppy circles on the skin.

Marcus opened his eyes when you got to his cheeks and saw you tilt your face a little, eyeing his beard.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” you smiled at him and scooped a bit more of the mask from the jar in his hand, your clean hand rested on his nape and you moved his face to you softly and spread it on his skin, being careful to not put it on the hair of his face.

Marcus chest swelled at the look of deep concentration you had, he was so happy to be home, and he was really enjoying having you in his lap, spreading a weird, cold, coconut smelling substance all over his face. He was content with you being like that on top of him, not even craving something else. Of course he loved the idea of you bouncing on his lap and moaning his name, but at that moment he wasn’t thinking of the closeness of your body as something sexual. Having you caring for him in a different way, showing him how much you worried about him and the little things made him love you even more, that was more than enough.

“I love you,” he sighed, you smiled at him.

“Shh, I’m not finished,”

Yeah, it was more than enough.

[supernaturalgirl20]

Catching Feelings

Chapter 3

Pairings: Marcus Moreno x nanny!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, angst, flirting, cursing.

Summary: things get a little awkward between y/n and Marcus. Miracle guy flirts up a storm

A/N: sorry this took so long 😯 it’s a short update too 🤷‍♀️

*comments and reblogs really appreciated*

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

Getting dressed for the day, you make your way downstairs. You were expecting to find Marcus but he’s no where in sight. Missy comes up behind you and gives you a fright.

“Hey dad had to go to work early, something about and emergency, I don’t know, can you help me get some breakfast please?”

“No problem, how does pancakes sound?”

“Yes please.”

****

After you’d gotten breakfast your phone buzzed with a text from Marcus, “I know I said I’d give you a few days to settle, but can you please drop Missy to school.”

“No problem.”

“Thank you.”

“Missy your dad wants me to bring you to school so chop chop.”

Once you’d dropped her off you went back to your place and began packing and moving stuff into the Moreno’s. This is going to take forever! At around 4 you decided to finish for the day, Marcus and Missy would be home soon so you made a start on dinner. You had the table set and dinner done when they finally arrived. Marcus stopped in the doorway when he saw you stood over the oven. You didn’t notice of course you had your back to him, but he was enraptured by you. This was so domestic, something he hasn’t had in a long time, and the sight of you cooking him and Missy dinner set his heart fluttering. He’s broken from his thoughts when Missy comes barrelling into the kitchen towards you.

“That smells amazing what is it?”

“That my dear is my homemade lasagna, it’s my grandma’s recipe.”

“I wish we had..”

“Garlic bread?”

“Yeah…how did you know?”

“Come on, you can’t have lasagna without garlic bread. Who does that.” You both laugh and Marcus smiles at the dynamic between you both. Sitting at the table eating you fall into a comfortable silence. You try not to look at Marcus but it seems to be impossible. When you do eventually look at him, you find he is already looking at you, but quickly turns his gaze back to his food.

“I got most of my things moved in today, I just have a few boxes left. I should be all sorted by tomorrow evening.”

“Do you need any help?”

“Eh..yeah actually that would be great.”

“I can get miracle guy to give you a hand, he owes me.”

“Oh, I thought..you might…never mind.”

You quickly finish eating and bring your dishes to the kitchen. Marcus follows you

“Are you ok? I mean….”

“You mean after last night, after you fucked me and then left?” Yeah I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Yeah sorry about that…I just….look it shouldn’t have happened, it was unprofessional of me, it won’t happen again.”

Oh, ok if that’s what you want?”

Hesitating for a minute, he clears his throat, “I mean your a beautiful women , but it’s for the best.”

“Ok.”

With that you move past him and head to your room. Why is this bothering me so much, did I really think he would want a relationship with me. Just focus on the job.

****

The next day your back at your apartment packing up the last of your stuff.

“We’ll look what we have here. Hmm, damn fine.”

Looking behind you, you see a tall man in your doorway blondish hair and beautiful blue eyes.

“Oh hi, you must be miracle guy, I’m Y/N, Marcus new nanny.”

“Oh I know who you are sweetheart and please you can call me Jason, I want you to know my name because you’ll be screaming it later.”

A blush rises up your neck and settles in your cheeks.

He stalks towards you and you slowly back up against the wall. He runs his fingers down the side of your cheek. “ damn fine.”

“Miracle, back off.”

He backs away from you and your shocked to see Marcus in the doorway of your apartment.

“What are you doing here I thought it was just me and miracle guy?”

“More hands make light work.”

“Sugar the faster we finish this the quicker we can go back to my place for some dessert.” He says waggling his eyebrows. You can see from the look on Marcus’s face that he’s a little jealous. You get an idea.

“Sure thing handsome, I’m single your single, no harm having a little fun, right?”

“Well damn, I like you. What are we waiting for, let’s get to it then.” He moves at lightning speed.

Marcus comes up to you anger behind his eyes, “what do you think your doing, he’s no good for you, he treats women like shit.”

“So, just like other members of the heroics then?”

He stands there in shock before he quickly recovers. “I apologised for the other morning, I explained why we can’t..”

“Yeah I get it. I can still do that though just with other men.” You move around him and go to where miracle is.

“Thanks for helping out today”, you say biting your lip.

“If I’d known you were this gorgeous, I would have helped sooner.”

Marcus couldn’t stand to watch you both flirting so he went into another room. Get your shit together Marcus. You have a beautiful women that wants you, what is wrong with you. No, no you can’t, she works for you. Ugh! What am I going to do?

Tagging:

Everything: @lunaserenade @day-off-inkyoto @anaaaispunk @asta-lily @librariantothejedi @dihra-vesa @kirsteng42 @loserrlauraa @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @elinedjarin @maievdenoir @javierpinme @ikinmahlen

Marcus Moreno: @agingerindenial @toomanystoriessolittletime @covidihateu

[acesydneysage]

My thoughts on how an Alchemist revolution could go

I turned some of the initial points into a one-shot, but I'm very unlikely to actually write anything that sees all of it through to the end, so I'm laying out what I imagine would happen. I could follow the initial fic's format and just write cutesy domestic fluff with hints of what is going on in the Alchemist revolution in the background, but who knows

In The Golden Lily, Sonya thought Sydney's blood might be key to a vaccine, since it was undrinkable to Strigoi. Later, in The Fiery Heart, in their visit to Inez, we find out that it's because her blood is coated in human magic. That makes it taste foul to undead vampires, and also broke her Alchemist tattoo, by countering the compulsion of Moroi magic with human magic.

She eventually uses a similar principle to make the tattoo breaking ink she gives to Marcus, and that she uses to help the other re-education inmates in Silver Shadows.

So, with that in mind:

My initial idea was that one of Marcus' operatives, who got tattooed with Sydney's ink, would suffer a Strigoi attack. Their blood would turn out to be undrinkable. Since Sydney's ink breaks the Alchemist tattoo, the receivers blood would get coated with human magic, like a witch's.

I would like it if that person was one of the people Sydney helped in re-education, because I'd like to think those people stayed loyal to her, and maybe see her as a leader. Just because it's really touching to me how she was still worried about others, and risking herself to help, while she was going through her worst nightmare.

In my fic I went with Sydney's roommate Emma, "the Sydney Sage of re-education", because I really love her. She really did turn out to be the Sydney of re-education, at least in part, because while she was repeating the party line and trying to seem cooperative, she was actually a badass rebel who fights back. There are other reasons, I'll get to that in the end.

Sydney's ink potentially working as a Strigoi vaccine is something important enough that she would risk her truce with the Alchemists to investigate. And since the ink also makes people immune to their mind control, the Alchemists wouldn't work with them like they did for the spirit vaccine. I truly believe that they value their control more than human souls.

I'm sure Declan’s blood will be important to the spirit vaccine. They couldn't mass produce it since it required a recent Strigoi restoration, trapping the spirit before it left the blood, while his blood is described as brimming with spirit. But Sydney and Adrian don't want their son to be experimented on, so that's just more incentive to seek an alternative.

I think Sydney’s ink wouldn't work on Moroi, going by the logic of the magic described in the books (human magic wins out in humans), but helping humans is already a big deal, and it could maybe work on dhampirs.

Meanwhile, the Alchemists have been getting polarized. When it's revealed that some of them were helping the Warriors of Light in the end of the series, while Warriors were keeping Moroi captive, that causes controversy. They eventually start to get divided into factions.

After the US re-education center burns down, those who oppose re-education try to defend that it not be rebuilt, and that other centers be shut down. There are symbolic concessions, but they eventually get basically re-education by another name. Similar things happen when it comes to demands for more transparency, and less authoritarianism in general.

And of course there's a reaction to progressive demands. A hardcore anti-Moroi faction is amenable to teaming up with the Warriors. They're tired of "fighting evil by cataloguing it."

If this faction wins out, they won't actually care that Sydney is blackmailing them into letting her live with proof that they worked with the Warriors, since they openly want that, and they consider her continued existence a humiliation. So Sydney and Adrian wouldn't be able to sit out this fight.

There are more and more defectors who simply leave and join Marcus (or go into hiding and try to stay away from that whole mess). But out of those who stay Alchemists, as things start to devolve into an actual civil war, the moderate faction has a lot of infighting about joining up with the rebels.

That's at least in part because Sydney is one of their most notorious members, and while they might not want to see all the Moroi exterminated, marrying one of them is still going way too far to a lot of them.

So, let's talk allies. Sydney definitely put Marcus in touch with more witches and taught them how to make the ink. And I think besides kidnapping Moroi and dhampirs, the Warriors could be capturing witches too, which would turn them against each other.

In re-education, when it's revealed that Sydney has magic they say that has happened before, and I imagine they handled it with the same amount of compassion. I think maybe Chantal is a witch too and that's why she was fown in the punishment level with Sydney.

Alicia definitely showed that some witches might be willing to work with them for their personal gain, but I think as a community they would protect their own. They wouldn't look kindly on Alchemists torturing witches. And even if they were born into the Alchemists, they chose to be witches, so their allegiance to them would take precedence in their minds. Sydney's coven and Ms. Terwilliger are definitely on board.

I think the rebels might be able to get the Keepers on their side, since they have a complicated relationship with the Alchemists, where they seemto deliberately keepthem dependent. Marcus' stated goal for a long time was helping Moroi on their own terms, that's what he did for a long while. He definitely didn't have any plans to topple the Alchemists in the Bloodlines era, he didn't thinkthat was possible. So they occasionally helped them get better technology and resources that the Alchemists don't want them to have, and they promise to help them further in the future. That gets them the Keepers sympathy.

The Moroi government obviously isn't gonna side with the anti-Moroi faction, but I think they'd try to stay out of the conflict and not be dragged into the fighting for as long as possible. But they've come to depend on the Alchemists too much to keep them hidden, and they're now in chaos.

With the Alchemists weakened by a civil war they aren't really doing a great job of keeping up the masquerade, Moroi secrecy gets very precarious.

Now. While Alchemists claim to be very worried about human souls, absolutely no one in the VA universe seems that worried about regular humans' lives. They don't even know about the existence of Strigoi so they could protect themselves. And yes, there are humans who'd work with Strigoi. Strigoi seem to have zero issue finding those humans as is, they simply tell them about vampires themselves when they wanna get servants.

Now there's a vaccine that could help protect humans, and really reduce Strigoi's capacity to feed, but you have to actually apply them to humans. And more and more supernatural events are being sloppily covered up since the Alchemists are otherwise preoccupied.

I'm sure there are some valid reasons for the masquerade, and humans might not behave amazingly towards supernatural creatures, but leaving them completely helpless to this threat isn't very ethical, and certainly not when you have a vaccine that could help them.

And honestly, as cliche as that argument is in discussions of monster hunting, humans could potentially take the Strigoi out, we have some pretty amazing weapons. Or we could be massively incompetent about a problem that we are fully capable of solving. You know...

So the supernatural world gets revealed, and that makes the Alchemists pretty obsolete. Of course, although they have been weakened by the decade(s) of infighting, that doesn't mean they lose all of their resources and connections all at once, but it would be a huge blow their relevance.

They get splintered into a lot of different groups that can still cause trouble, but they're no longer the omnipresent shadow organization they used to be.

And if this whole process took about 15 years, Declan and his buddies would be neatly protagonist aged in time to deal with the huge upheaval and the new mess of problems brought on by the integration of the Moroi and human world. And he'd more capable of thinking about his own relationship to the spirit vaccine and making his own decisions.

So most of this post was written to be understood whether or not you read Silver Stars, but this final bit is more about what could directly follow. When it comes to the fic I was more worried about the characters and their feelings, and excuses for domestic fluff and hurt/confort. So here's the fic on AO3 and on Tumblr.

In the end of The Ruby Circle, there's indication that Zoe Sage and Stanton, with the incentive of Sydney's blackmail, will be trying to reform the Alchemists. I don't really think they're reformable, attempts to extinguish re-education would basically result in rebranding. @sydneysageivashkov has some lesbian!Zoe head that I think are pretty compatible with my headcanons for an Alchemist revolution, and what Zoe would be doing during that initial period.

I think it could take a few more years, 3 or 4, for Sydney to actually have to leave her home and go into hiding. Declan foes actually get a little bit of a normal school experience. I imagine this whole process going very slowly, as the situation gradually deteriorates. And the witches would now claim Sydney as one of their own, making it a bigger problem for the Alchemists to attack her directly, lest they make enemies of the whole magical community.

By the time Sydney has to go into hiding I imagine Zoe is gonna have to leave the Alchemists as well. The other reason why I chose Emma for the first fic, is that she was in re-education in part for her sister's actions, so it shows that the Alchemists wouldn't be above hurting Zoe for Sydney's actions.

Sydney has very important reasons to join the revolution, and in fact she might eventually not have a choice, but she knows that once she officially breaks her truce with the Alchemists her whole family and even her fellow re-education inmates that she got amnesty for.

I imagine Sydney, Adrian, Eddie and Declan could spend a while hiding in a ranch very out of the way that Chantal and Duncan got themselves. Insert Adrian joke about that escape plan where cute blonde girls had to wear cow girl outfits.

Duncan has been shown to be pretty hesitant to risk going against authority, and Chantal is even more psychologically messed up than Sydney and the rest of them. Sydney feels pretty awful about placing them in danger, but they're both very grateful to her for helping them escape. Also Chantal is a really badass witch, although a bit unstable, I'll eventually find something to do with that, revolution wise.

But Sydney and Adrian would eventually leave and get more active roles in the revolution. I would very much like it to be an actual collective movement and not one special girl bringing down the Alchemists by herself, but I think Sydney would have a pretty prominent role after everything she went through.

This is way too long, but I had fun with it, and if you got this far, thank you for reading 😀

[wallwriterstuff]

When You’re Lost, I’ll Leave My Gaslight On ||Yandere!Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

A request by @tiger-khans-blog Part 1: Obsession  Part 3: These Violent Delights 

Warnings: Yandere!Alec, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships and implied non-con later on. This is possibly one of the darkest fics I have ever written so please be aware if controlling behaviour, gaslighting etc. is triggering to you, do not read this fic. 

The following link will take you to a Citizen’s Advice Page that have resources regarding Domestic abuse and violence. They detail various organisations offering support, refuge and advice for both women and men in abusive situations, however these only apply to the UK.

https://www.citizensadvice.org.uk/family/gender-violence/domestic-violence-and-abuse-getting-help/

I am from the UK and therefore am not sure about what resources may be available internationally, however I know many of you are from places outwith the UK. If you have any resources you know of that would be useful or helpful to add here then please do! You can reblog this post with link in or message me a link to have me edit it into the original. I will post this link and any that get added in all three parts of this fic that I post.

Words: 4,436 

Summary:  Alec’s actions earned him some time in the dungeons of Volterra, and he really seems to be trying his best to behave himself the second time around. However, as your relationship with him blossoms, you find yourself growing more and more insecure, unsure if things are really as they seem to be. Your descent into madness seems much slower than Alice’s fall down the rabbit hole. 

Bella didn’t even write to you. Nor did Alice or Edward, or Emmet or Jasper. Only Carlisle had bothered to contact you, expressing his deepest regret you had gotten tangled up in all of this and his promise to speak to Aro on your behalf. Carlisle’s efforts had granted you your own quarters on the opposite side of the castle, smaller and far less grand than the ones you had woken up in but entirely yours to decorate how you pleased; at least, that was what Felix and Demetri had decided. The silence from back home was bad enough but on top of that you had to come to terms with the fact you were now forced to live with vampires who had little to no respect for human life, one of which had a mental gift she had loved to use on you as punishment for turning her brother against her as she put it.

To say you were depressed would have been an understatement.

It felt beyond impossible to consider feeling anything remotely positive when nothing seemed to go right for you. The secretaries who brought you food were the only interaction you had for the first few days and they were mostly too afraid to stick around and talk to you after hearing you were Alec’s mate. You had been utterly and entirely alone. Unbeknownst to you, this was a test, one you failed miserably, and after they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of you by day 4 of your stay with them Felix and Demetri had taken it upon themselves to visit you. They were quite patient, letting you stay as far from them as you wanted while they invaded what had become your safe space, those unblinking red eyes taking in the sparse walls and boring, plain wood desk and doors. It was then that Felix had spoken up about decorating and Demetri has enthusiastically agreed this was a wonderful idea.

Felix, it turned out, was quite the talented artist. Looking at the brute you’d never imagined he could hold a pencil without snapping it in half, but he had drawn up the most beautiful sketches you could imagine as you told them what your bedroom back home had looked like, and how you had wanted to decorate it with your father. They had let you cry again at that point and looking back on it it was rather amusing to watch the two immortals – who physically had lacked the ability to tear up for over a millennia now – share a panic stricken look and throw tissues at you. By the end of the week, they had come back to your room with everything they would need for their DIY project and helped you start painting your room. You had been a little overwhelmed at their kindness, but both had waved it off as nothing and whenever they got the chance over the next week, they had helped you decorate.

You had shared music tastes, let Demetri try to interest you in poetry (even if he had failed dramatically) and even sat to watch a movie with them once while you had lunch. Still, it didn’t feel like home, just an escape from an abysmal reality.

“You know, he will be freed tomorrow.” Felix said quietly. You were in the middle of stringing up some fairy lights around the canopy of your bed when the news rendered you immobile. You barely remembered to breathe until Demetri very gently touched your waist and helped you down from your bed before you fell.

“I don’t want him to be.” You whispered, eyes ducking away from theirs. Alec had been their friend for far longer after all and the confession was cruel. Demetri sighed slightly.

“We have visited him once or twice, spoken to him. He truly does feel awful about what happened.” He promised you. It was very obvious on your face you didn’t believe him, and even if you did you were certain Alec’s behaviour was not normal, it didn’t eradicate your fear to know he wished it never happened when it seemed like he had had no control over it in the first place. If he couldn’t control it, it could very well happen again. Felix watched you carefully as you sat back against the headboard, curling your knees to your chest.

“Why…why was he like that? Is it – I mean could he…will he be like that again?” you swallowed, mouth a little dry as your heart fluttered in your chest. You felt sick, suddenly no longer curious about whatever dinner the new secretary might bring. Gianna had stopped showing up two days ago and you didn’t need to ask to know why. They shared a side long look, Felix going back to putting together the bookshelf you had repainted with him. It was a bit of a pattern, that Demetri handled your more sensitive questions – Felix just didn’t have the tact or patience for them.

“You remember our discussion on the transformation process? How we are frozen at the stage of growth we are at when we turn?” he questioned, waiting for you to nod before continuing, “Alec was turned no older than you are now, just 16, you know yourself from growing up I’m sure what a volatile time that can be. It is not that Alec wishes to scare you, just that the violence of his feelings is something he will have to learn to control.”

“The violence of his feelings?” you asked warily. Demetri hummed, head tilting.

“We feel emotion far more intensely than you, little human. Our bodies are frozen but heightened, so that we might experience everything to the fullest extent and therefore miss out on nothing. Alec is essentially a teenager seeing the girl he has a rather potent crush on for the first time, the mate pull was both entirely unexpected and strong. He admitted himself he had no way of controlling his own actions but he has meditated and spoken to master Marcus for help since. He really does not wish to put you through that again.” Demetri assured you.

“You have to give the boy some reprieve, he wasn’t exactly having fun either. Alec prides himself on his self-control, your appearance tossed it right out of the window.” Felix pointed out. You hung your head, brows furrowed. It sounded an awful lot to you like they were defending the inexcusable behaviour. He’s just a boy, he couldn’t control it, it’s not his fault…well, it didn’t change the fact it had hurt you. It had traumatised you really, so much so that even when you replayed Demetri’s words in your head in an effort to help calm yourself you still found no sleep that night knowing Alec would be at your door tomorrow.

Except he wasn’t.

He didn’t come the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that, and you hated that you were beginning to wonder if he was ever coming at all. Was this a new, peculiar kind of torture? Making you wait for him? Every knock at the door made you jump the first day or two but after that you slowly began to unwind, your heavy heart coming to the conclusion he maybe wasn’t coming back, that he felt it better to stay away from you. You almost passed out when he finally did show up at your door, standing behind Demetri as still as stone and looking jut as perfect as any sculpture could. It really wasn’t fair the boy was so pretty. Demetri gave you a warm smile.

“Good evening Y/N, do you mind if we come in little human?” he asked. You hesitated. Did you want Alec in your safe space? Your room was your sanctuary, decorated how you liked with no trace of Alec inside it as of yet. He seemed to notice your hesitation and you were surprised to see just how much anguish it brought him.

“If you prefer, we could take a walk around the Gardens? Demetri says you haven’t left your room much.” Alec said. His voice was softer now, no longer did it have the rough edge to it it had held in the throne room. You swallowed thickly, slowly nodding your head, and moved to get your shoes from by the door. Alec inhaled sharply as the shirt you were wearing rode up slightly. His arms had left to sizable bruises on your torso and he had obviously seen them. You weren’t expecting him to look so torn up about it. Demetri glanced between you both, his eyes knowing.

“I would suggest a jumper, the evenings can be somewhat chillier.” He advised. You nodded, crossing to your closet. Once you were ready, you shut the door firmly behind you and stuck close to Demetri’s side, much to Alec’s obvious ire, but the boy kept himself in check with remarkable discipline that gave you hope he could maybe be better.

“How are you?” he asked, his voice strained. Your hair fell, covering your eyes until you pushed it back with a quick nod.

“I’m okay. How are you?” the small talk was entirely forced and thoroughly unpleasant, but Demetri stood firm between you two, absorbing it all. You were more than a little grateful.

“I have…been better,” Alec confessed, “Demetri explained the…difficulty, I’m having in being around you?” he asked. The strain in his voice was growing more obvious again now but one look from Demetri forced him to settle as you shuddered, memory flashing to the violent grip his arms had on you. If he noticed your hand subconsciously go to your bruised flesh, he didn’t comment on it.

“He told me you couldn’t control your feelings.” You said quietly. Alec huffed, eyes flashing with irritation.

“It’s as upsetting to me as it is to you, to think a mere human would make me so…so…” he trailed off, trying to choose the right word. You prompted him, curious to see what he would choose. “Obsessed.” He settled for the word with such a flat tone you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around yourself, mind reeling. It wasn’t a good word. It wasn’t your preferred word. Carlisle and Esme had been mates, hadn’t they? Rosalie and Emmett? Alice and Jasper? They had proven to you if nothing else that mates should be loving, kind. It was a relationship based on mutual attraction and desire, caring, not one person’s obsession with another. It was an unhealthy word.

“Why don’t you tell Alec of our trip to the market the other week?” Demetri hedged. He was clearly acting as chaperone today as you headed out into the fading sunlight. The Gardens of Castello Volterra were magnificent, kept tidy and neat and bursting with colour. A massive expanse of green dotted with vibrant hues of flowerbeds and glorious leafy sculptures in shapes you could recognise. Horses, chess pieces. Your answers were short, quiet, and Alec seemed to have moments he was incredibly open and vulnerable before he became a little more robotic, his control slipping when he found his emotions getting the best of him again. The amount of effort he put into his composure really astounded you, and by the time you were half-way around the Walled Garden you were actually starting to feel a little bit bad. Clearly your presence really did make him suffer.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” He admitted finally, fists clenched at his sides. With a sharp exhale, Alec turned to you, ruby red eyes darkening as soon as they made contact with your own Y/E/C.

“Alec-“

“Y/N, I have tortured myself over the way I behaved towards you. I am truly sorry I ever laid a hand on you. I hope that as I work on controlling myself around you, you work on being able to forgive me for that.” Alec cut Demetri off, his body rigid with tension and eyes flickering to the very slight gap left between you and the tracker as you moved closer out of instinct to the person you trusted most out of the two of them. His nostrils flared, seemingly annoyed by it.

“I…can try. But you need to promise me Alec, promise me you won’t hurt me like that ever again.” You said. Truthfully you were intrigued by him. Demetri had told you you would also feel the mate pull eventually, though not as strongly as Alec did, and your curiosity to know more about the witch twin was the start of a very deep dark hole you were about to fall into. The air turned almost ominous, like that strange moment between hearing thunder and waiting to see if there would be lightning.

“I won’t make you promises I can’t keep.” Alec’s voice was all that was left of him, as he was gone by the time you blinked again. Demetri sighed slightly, though he tried to perk up his expression when he realised you were looking helplessly to him for answers.

“Well, that went rather well, do you not agree?” he asked. What had Alec meant? He had done so well today. Clearly he was getting the hang of controlling his emotions, he could be less of a threat. You had rather liked the sweeter side of Alec you had glimpsed today, the side that told you about how Jane had planted the peonies and had chased Felix quite literally out of the city when he accidentally trampled on them once, just to hear you laugh. You liked the side of Alec that had quietly complimented the way your hair reflected the dying light while you stood and admired another topiary.

A month passed this way before you finally felt comfortable enough to be around Alec on your own. He had really tried hard to become a better man for you and it showed. His smiles were more natural and he found it easier to relax in your presence, no more uptight Alec that left you wandering when he would snap. Felix and Demetri had continued to chaperone your dates for all that time until you finally asked one night if you might be allowed to be with Alec on your own for a little bit. Demetri had enthusiastically agreed, both Guards seemingly happy you were finally letting their friend have his chance. Alec seemed to sense your nerves when you appeared in the library, where you’d both agreed to meet for an hour to two to test the waters. He was more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed while he listened to some far-off birdsong you couldn’t hear, or so you imagined.

“I wasn’t sure you would come.” He admitted. You smiled slightly, pulling your sketchbook from your bag as you sat on the opposite sofa to him.

“I said I would,” You reminded him. Alec smiled slightly, head bobbing in agreement. “What are you reading?” you asked. Alec glanced to the book beside him.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray, though I confess myself bored of it. Wilde has never been my preferred author.” Alec answered, sitting up and eyeing your sketchbook with interest. You didn’t notice, too busy flipping through your pages to find the sketch you were working on now. The lines were already drawn, you had just wanted to finish your shading today.

“How is Jane?” you asked. You wanted to chase away the silence and figured it would be a nice way to maybe broach the topic that she had avoided you like the plague. Alec didn’t answer you and when you looked up to see why you saw his eyes fixated on your sketch, nothing but awe painting his face. You flushed a deep shade of red.

“Beautiful and talented, little human.” He breathed. You were fairly sure you weren’t supposed to hear, but it only made your blush darken. It was nothing worthy of a spot in the Louvre, just a sketch of the view from the fountain in the plaza looking down one of Volterra’s many alleyways. You tucked some hair behind your ear with a small smile.

“Thank you,” you said softly, “I started it the other day, when Demetri took me to that café I told you about? Where they do those really nice pastries?” As if a switch had been flipped Alec’s face shut off, all expression wiped away and an impassive mask replacing it. It had happened so fast you were unsure anything other than apathy had ever painted his face in the first place.

“Demetri takes you out often.” He noted. There was nothing his tone or his face to give away his feelings about that, but a strong sense of foreboding settled in your gut. You shut your sketchbook, knowing deep in your chest that the damage was already done. The atmosphere in the room had changed drastically, becoming charged and electric, like it was filled with current just waiting to frazzle and consume you whole.

“Yeah…it’s nice to get out of the castle, and it’s not like I’m a prison so why shouldn’t I see the city I’ve got to live in now?” you rambled ever so slightly, voice wavering a bit, but Alec’s expression changed so quickly you were sure he was trying to give you whiplash. With a laugh he nodded his head.

“Of course.” He made no further comment and you descended into silence again until it was time to leave, your sketchbook long abandoned and your eyes fixed on him, waiting for his mood to shift again. He was perfectly respectable in every other way however, his silence easy to brush off as nothing when he kissed your knuckles chivalrously after walking you back to your room. He still hadn’t set foot in it yet despite his obvious intrigue, waiting for you to invite him in personally. When the door closed behind you, you released a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. The whole evening had gone far better than expected even with the few minor road bumps. In fact, Alec’s mood seemed to do an entire 180 compared to how he had been when you first met. He was pleasant, charming even. That was where the problem started.

One night, he bought you flowers and a pastry from your favourite café, remembering the exact kind you liked and bringing it to your door so you could enjoy a walk with him in the Gardens once more, watching the stars come out. You’d passed Felix in the corridor and waved but the giant had hurried by as though he hadn’t seen you. A few days after that Alec had promised to take you out to the markets, but the weather had been too bright for him apparently even though you had argued it was overcast enough that the chances of him exposing himself were slim to none. He had come to your room with new sketching pencils that night, an apology gift to make it up to you, he said.

It had become a theme though, you noticed. Alec would promise to take you somewhere, and then he would find one way or another to weasel his way out of taking you out.

“I never promised you anything, I said we might, your imaging things.” He would dismiss it the same way every time and always follow up with a nice gesture that made you feel bad for questioning him on it. He really did feel guilty about you not getting to go out, didn’t he? It wasn’t just that though either, it was Demetri and Felix’s absence in your life that had grown concerning. You were conscious you hadn’t seen your friends for quite some time, Alec always claiming they were busy with guard duty or some other task, yet when you caught Demetri in the corridor once he had brushed you off with the enough regret in his eyes that it made you question Alec’s entire story.

“But they always found time to at least say hello to me before, so why-“

“Y/N, my love I don’t wish to upset you, but do you really think they were ever your friends?” Alec asked. You blinked, frowning in confusion.

“Of course they’re my friends! We decorated my room together and they helped us get to know each other. I just don’t get why they aren’t around anymore.” You huffed. Alec ran his hand down your arm gently, your skin tingling at the ice-cold contact. He had slowly started to incorporate physical affection into your relationship, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t thrilled with the little touches. It was a far cry from the rough embrace he had given you nearly two months ago.

“They were fulfilling a duty tesoro, you required a room and at the Masters request they built you one, and do you really think one little human can go unguarded in this place? They were your sentries, not your friends.” His expression was so sympathetic you wondered how you couldn’t not believe him, and he’d held you to him as you cried over their obvious betrayal. As weeks dragged into another month though your anxiety only grew, and it didn’t make sense. Things between you and Alec were really good. He had much more control now and he was affectionate and sweet, always giving you little gifts and making time in his day to see you even if no one else would, but something was just…wrong. You were sure you were going mad.

You wrote home frequently to the Cullen’s so they could pass letters on to Bella, but those letters sometimes went missing and despite being sure you wrote them, Alec assured you you hadn’t and he had never seen them materialise. As sweet as he was Alec always put down your clumsy little accidents to you being human to, laughing when you tripped into his arms or holding his breath as he cleaned up scrapes for you with that dreaded little saying of his.

“You’re only human Y/N.” he chuckled, as he carefully placed a band aid around the finger you had accidentally cut while cooking yourself dinner. You sighed dejectedly.

“I wish you’d stop saying that.” You admitted. It felt like you weren’t good enough. Your human needs were a bother to him, that much was clear. He always had to take time to make sure you had something to eat when he really just wanted to spend his free hours with you. Most of the time when he was free you were asleep and you could only imagine how boring it must be for him to have to spend so much time alone when you were across the castle, sleeping peacefully. Bathroom breaks were another thing that gave you almost nauseating anxiety now to, and you’d scrubbed your body pink on multiple occasions wondering if your personal hygiene was assaulting his nose or not after a day or two without showering.

You needed to clear your head, you decided, so a trip to your café was in order. Alec wouldn’t be able to take you you knew, not with the sun as bright as it was right then. It would fade quickly given the late time of year but you left a note just in case Alec wondered across your empty room. It felt good, to get fresh air and to sit in a window seat, watching the world go by without a care as sweet pastry melted in your mouth. You had brought a book with you to enjoy to, a fantasy world to escape to for a little bit before your old anxieties came crawling back in. Though your relationship with Alec was as yet undefined, you felt like you were to blame for that due to your inferior status. After all, what could you possible bring to a relationship with him that would make him want to call you his mate? You were only human after all.

“Now what are you doing here little human?” Demetri’s voice startled you so much you dropped your book to the tabletop with a gasp. Heart fluttering, you couldn’t help but laugh breathless, if only to ease the tension.

“Demetri, god you scared the hell out of me.” You swallowed, not liking the way he was frowning at you.

“Well you can consider us even then.” He said, arms folding across his chest. You felt a lot like you were a child being scolded in that moment.

“What?” you asked.

“You heard me. You cannot just leave the castle Y/N, not without telling someone or at least leaving a note. There was an uproar when Alec found you gone, we thought something had happened to you.” He chided. Your frown deepened.

“But I did leave a note, I taped it to my door so Alec would see.” You protested. Demetri’s eyebrows rose.

“Not according to Alec. He found no note and I did not see anything resembling one when I came to your room to see what the fuss was about. Come on, you have had your fun. A harmless misunderstanding it may be but you will be in for a scolding from the Masters.” he sighed, holding a hand to help you out of your chair. Your stomach twisted. You were going to have to see the Masters because you’d gone out for coffee? How had Alec missed your note? You were sure you had left it on the door for him! You remembered the schluuuuck sound of sticky tape and everything as you taped it up!

“But Demetri, I swear I left a note.” You said, packing away your things as your good mood crumbled. Demetri was quiet for a moment.

“Perhaps you did and it was overlooked, either way you have scared us all enough for one day.” He took your bag from you like the gentleman he was, escorting you back to the castle. You were so sure you had left that note for Alec, as sure as you were about your own name, but what if you hadn’t? You resolved to steel your nerves for now, take your scolding and ensure you left one next time. Hell, next time you would even tell the secretary to go and tell Alec in the throne room just to be safe. You weren’t going to worry your mate like this again, it wasn’t going to become a pattern.

How wrong you were.

[moralesispunk]

Domesticity

Chapter 6 of the Caramel Latte Series

Previous chapter / fic masterlist / next chapter

Summary: You and Marcus start to fall into an easy routine of pure domesticity and love

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex (p/v), unprotected sex

A/N: thank you so much for the patience for this chapter. I missed writing Marcus so much but life just got a little hectic. I hope this was worth the wait (its nothing special but pure domestic fluff with our Marcus). Lots of love!

Domesticity came quickly after you and Marcus had your talk. You hadn’t realised that you had a barrier up until the next morning.

When you woke up with your body huddled against Marcus’s, you didn’t have that fleeting moment of panic you had become used to. Until that morning, for a millisecond as you opened your eyes and they landed on Marcus’s sleeping form, your stomach would twist and your heart would drop. There was the man you loved, more relaxed than usual and lying next to you and happily away in dreamland. You would worry for a moment that he wasn’t as happy as you were and there was a version of his life that he dreamed about having when he was asleep or that you would somehow ruin what you had by asking for too much.

This morning when you woke up you felt… calm. You let your yes remain closed for a moment, nuzzling closer into Marcus’s bare chest seeking his warmth. His strong arms were wrapped tightly around you, one hand splayed across your back to keep you close against him while the other cradled the back of your head. You could still feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your cheek as the sound of his calm heartbeat filled your ears.

Titling your head up, you took in Marcus’s face, calm as he stayed asleep. His forehead that would end up scattered in a few worry lines by the end of the day and reverted back to stillness. and his lips were curved into the smallest of smiles if you looked close enough.

You lifted your had, slowly tracing over his sharp nose and along his jaw before shifting your body up to press a kiss at the corner of his jaw. He stirred, waking slowly to the day as he pulled you even tighter against his chest.

“Mornin’,” he grumbled, his voice still layered with he roughness of sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered back.

“I don’t want to get up,” he whined, nuzzling his head further into your hair.

You chuckled into his neck, peppering kisses in an attempt to rouse him from sleep.

“Well, we can stay in bed for an extra ten minutes or…”

“”Or?” he looked down at you, opening one eye.

“Or you can get up now and help me shower.”

You laughed at how quickly Marcus moved, swinging his bodies around the bed to stand before helping you up to join him. As your feet touched the cold floor he cupped your face to place a soft kiss on your lips before quietly walking with you to the bathroom joined to the bedroom. You both easily stripped off your minimal sleep clothes before Marcus turned on the shower and tested the temperature. Once it was warm enough he held your hand to help you in before closely following.

Marcus turned your body into the spray of water, watching as you closed your eyes and let out a small moan at the feel of the warm water cascading around your body. He felt himself get hard as he let his eyes frag down your body. In the moths you had been going out he had enjoyed learning every inch of your body, betting he could pinpoint every freckle, scar and stretch mark with his eyes closed after having made sure to kiss them all.

Still, every time his eyes fell on you it was as though it was for the first time. He reached behind you while your eyes were still closed, squeezing some of your body was onto a loose before dragging it over your body. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the gasp that left your mouth when he dragged the soap across your chest, sending a playful glare his way when you opened your eyes.

He stuck his tongue out at you, a hilarious sight for a man who everyone else, minus you and Missy, only ever seen with nothing less than a professional look. You let him wash the front of your body, noticing how he took extra care as he massaged the soap across your chest.

He turned your body around to wash your back but not before kissing your neck first. His warm lips attached to your shoulder, working up your neck and nibbling on your ear as your head fell back against his shoulder.  At some point during this, Marcus had dropped the loofa in his hand, wrapping one arm around your waist as his hand came up to squeeze your nipple, twisting and pulling it in a steady rhythm.

“Let me making you feel good,” he murmured into your neck as his hand moved from your chest slowly down your side.

You closed your eyes, nodding your head but he stopped in his movements.

“I need to hear you, baby.”

“Yes, Marcus, please,” you gasped.

He gripped tighter around your waist making sure to hold you against his chest as his other hand reached down. He used two fingers to spread you apart for him as his thumb began to rub circles against your clit. Your body shuddered, feeling his hard cock press into your back. His pace quickened as he kissed along your beck, sucking slightly and so you were sure a mark would be left but didn’t care.

“Marcus, please,” you begged, “I need you.”

“I got you,” he hushed gently, “got to be quiet for me. Can you be quiet for me?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the moans from spilling out.

“Good girl.”

He lifted one of your legs to rest your foot on a ledge before removing his hand from your clit and lining himself up at your entrance. He pushed inside with one slow thrust, his body stilling when he was inside.

“Marcus, move please.”

“Jusst- just give me a minute,” he gasped as his forehead fell forward against your shoulder.

After a moment, he pulled himself almost all the way out before thrusting back in against and starting at a steady pace. His hand moved back down to toy with your clit again. Your teeth dug harder into your lips trying to keep your moans quiet but they started to spill out the closer you got.

“I-I,” you stuttered.

“I know, cum for me. Let me feel you cum for me,” Marcus turned his head towards you as you turned your head back towards him, capturing your lips together in time to swallow your moans.

You could feel and hear him moan back, not removing his lips from yours as he took his hand from your centre to hold his weight up against the wall in front of you. His thrusts became fast and sloppy until he stilled, his mouth leaving yours as his forehead fell against your shoulder and he bit the skin to stifle his moans.

He gave a few more thrusts before he pulled out completely and you felt another rope of cum hit your back. You whines at the lost as both his arms wrapped around you while you caught your breaths.

“I love you,” you whispered, turning your head to face him.

“God, I love you,” he chuckled back before gently kissing you.

He quickly finished washing your body before you washed his and then he switched the water off. You watched him step out the shower, his skin covered in droplets of waters as his muscles  in his back and arms tensed when reaching for the towels. You gladly took the one he handed you, wrapping it around your body but not before you caught him looking at you, his own towel forgotten in his hand.

“We don’t have time for round two,” you winked.

“I- I-“

“Don’t apologise. You make me feel… special when you look at me like that.”

“That’s because you are,” he walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist, “my beautiful, smart, amazing girlfriend.”

“You have some way with words, Mr Moreno,” you stood on your tows to kiss him.

“Keep calling em that or we will be late for work,” he moaned against your lips.

You chuckled and playfully slapped his bum before heading back into the bedroom.

Marcus got dressed quickly, telling you he would get breakfast started and wake Missy while you finished getting ready. You dried your body and hair off quickly before walking towards the wardrobe, opening the side that was slowly becoming yours to pull out your clothes for the day, making sure to pull out a high neck in case any marks had been left.

By the time you were ready for work, the smell of omelettes spilled through the house. You made the bed before walking down to the kitchen, the sounds of Missy and Marcus chatting away being heard as you walked down the stairs.

“Good morning,” you sang as you walked in, heading straight to the kitchen table to sit next to Missy,

“Morning,” she turned to smile at you.

Marcus placed two plates down in front of you and Missy, sending a wink your way as Missy began to shovel the breakfast into her mouth. As Marcus turned to lift his own breakfast, his phone beeped and he stoped to read it.

“Shit,” he groaned.

“Language!” you scolded and Missy laughed.

“Sorry,” he grimaced, “I have to go to work early.” He looked at the door and back at Missy, the cogs turning in his head.

“I can take Missy to school,” you offered.

“I- thank you,” he pulled his jacket on and walked over to the table.

“Enjoy school, Missy,” he ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head, “and have a good day at work, honey,” he leaned across and gave you a quick kiss before heading out the door.

The first time Marcus kissed you in front of Missy you remembering pulling away slightly, noticing the flash of hurt that crossed his face. He watched your eyes dart to Missy and back to him making his face soften, cupping your cheek as he stroked his thumb back and forth. Now, you felt relaxed by these little shows of affection. While sometimes Missy would roll her eyes or make a gagging noise like any pre-teen would, you could find the smile beneath it all at seeing her dad happy and watching a healthy relationship in the house.

“Right, how about you go and brush your teeth and make sure your schoolbag is packed and I’ll get your lunch ready?”

Missy moved quickly and you could hear her loud footsteps bounce up the stairs as your cleared the table. You had learned how she liked her lunch packed from many mornings of watching and helping Marcus do it. Once it was ready you met Missy at the bottom of the stairs, both of you checking you had everything for the day before heading out to your car.

The drive to Missy’s school wasn’t too far and she had always told you how much she liked you driving her in the morning because she got to choose the music. It was a lot of pop, songs you hadn’t heard before but were slowly learning the words to after having them on repeat on mornings like this. The both of you sang loudly, laughing when other drivers turned to look into your car.

As you pulled into the car park you turned the volume down, laughing at the pouting face Missy made and how closely it mirrored Marcus when he does the same.

“Do you know who is getting me from school?”

“I think your Dad but I’m not too sure. One of us will be here,” you put the car in park, “have a good day at school, sweetie.”

Missy unchecked her seatbelt, leaning across the middle to give you a small hug before jumping out the car. You waved her off as she walked towards the building before driving off again.

The day went in quickly, getting lost in your work from the minute you sat down at the desk. You were so engrossed in replying to emails that you had accidentally missed lunch and didn’t realise the time until it flashed up on your phone along with Marcus’s name.

2:12 Marcus calling…

You answered quickly with a hello before hearing Marcus sigh on the other end.

“Is everything okay?”

“Nothings wrong! Just, I think I might be late in tonight. Would you be able to get Missy from school? Its okay if not! I can ask my m-“

“I can get her,” you could practically see the stress on his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can finish my work from home/“

“Thank you,” he sighed, “I should be home for dinner.”

“Don’t worry about us, Marcus. Just try not to work too hard m’kay?”

“I love you,” you could hear the edge of a smile in his voice.

“I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later.”

You quickly finished what you were working on, packing away your work laptop and letting you boss know you would work the rest of the day from home. Luckily the drive to Missy’s school wasn’t too far and you were there five minutes early, waiting until you could see her walk out the building and waving her over.

“My dad still working?” she pouted a little.

“Yes, but you get me and today I am in the mood for some brownies after dinner so I was thinking we could make some when we get home?”

“Really?”

“Yes, but only after you finish any homework. I don’t want your dad giving me into trouble.”

You drove Missy home, listening to her tell you about her history project that she had to work on when she got home. Once you arrived back to the Moreno’s, you and Missy set up at the kitchen table for her to work on her project and you to finish the work day. Luckily you didn’t have much to do and Missy was finished her homework quick enough, with both of you behind the kitchen counter and in aprons by 4pm.

“So, do you know how to make brownies?” Missy looked at the ingredients then up at you.

“I- no. But it can’t be too hard, right?” you pulled your phone out your pocket.

Half an hour later with chocolate on every surface as well as your faces, after what was a chocolate fight definitely not started by the only adult supervision, you both froze in your spots as you put the brownies in the oven when you heard the door unlock.

“Shit,” you whispered, looking at the mess of the kitchen.

“Language,” Missy giggled from her spot next to you.

The both of you fell into a fit of giggles as you closed the oven door, you holding onto the kitchen counter and Missy onto your apron. You looked up through laughter tear filled eyes to the kitchen door, Marcus standing with his mouth open as he took in the sight.

“Marcus, I’m sorry. I really thought I would have had time to clean this mess up before you got home,” you tried to apologise.

Marcus shut his mouth, walking around the kitchen counter to where you and Missy were standing. He swiped his finger through a spot of chocolate on the table, quickly wiping it down your nose before you could react. Well, there was no stopping the chocolate fight that started now. Marcus was soon covered in chocolate himself, tears streaming down his face as he had Missy thrown over one shoulder and you pulled into his other side.

A ding from the timer stopped you all in your bustle, your three heads turning in time towards the oven.

“Brownies!” Missy whooped as her Dad put her down.

“I would say wait till after dinner but I didn’t get a chance to start what with-“ you waved around to the mess.

Marcus just laughed, pulling his phone out to bring up a pizza app.

“Pizza and brownie night it is then.”

You helped put some oven-mitts on Missy, opening the oven door for her and carefully watching as she lifted them onto the counter. Once Marcus had some pizzas ordered he went to change as you and Missy cleaned the kitchen and went to get changed yourselves.

The rest of the night was relaxed, the three of you curled up on the couch with pizza, brownies and a movie. As soon as you had finished eating you were curled into Marcus’s side and Missy had her head on your lap, slowly falling asleep as the film went on. When Marcus noticed he woke her, telling her to get ready and head for bed. When it was just you and Marcus, you put on a few episodes of the new show you had been watching before heading to bed yourselves and quickening crashing out in each others arms.

The three of you quickly fell into a routine of this. You staying with them more nights than not and splitting school runs with Marcus. It was an easy change to the relationship and the three of you were all coming closer together as you and Marcus neared the one year mark since you met in the cafe.

This day it was your turn to get Missy from school as Marcus would be working late, some Heroic  accidental government property damage that had to be dealt with ASAP. After dinner you and Missy decided to take the time to catch up on the latest episodes of a medical drama you had both gotten into, something that was completely not for Marcus. You don’t know when but somewhere between all the doctor medical and relationship dramas you had both fallen asleep.

Marcus ended up getting home a lot later than he thought, surprised when he noticed the living room light still on as he pulled into the drive thinking you would have just moved up to bed to watch TV. He opened the front door quietly, locking it behind him and placing the keys in the bowl by the front door that you bought him after the fourth time he forgotten where he had left them. He slipped out of his shoes, walking quietly into the living room and stopping when he took in the sight before him.

You were stretched out back against the couch and Missy was curled up on your lap, the blanket thrown over her. You were both fast asleep, the credits of that medical show you had both been watching paused on the TV. He moved slowly, kneeling in front of you to wake you gently. He almost didn’t want to and so took a minute to lean back and take a photo on his phone of his two favourite girls a lot more peaceful than when they were usually together. His heart warmed at the sight when he checked the photo back, putting it back in his pocket before gently shaking your arm. He smiled at the look of confusion that flashed across your tired face before you smiled back at him.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey.”

Marcus put his finger to his lips, letting you know he would talk in a minute as soon as he got Missy up. His arms curled under her, lifting her against his chest before he walked out the room. You moved around the living room, switching off the TV and lights before checking all the doors were locked and heading upstairs.

You quickly stripped down to your underwear, going to brush your teeth as you waited on Marcus. You heard his quiet footsteps pad towards the bathroom as he opened the door and smiled at you in the mirror. You smiled back, leaning against the sink as you finished brushing your teeth. He walked over, wrapping his arms around your waist and swaying back and forth.

“How was your day?” he murmured into your hair.

“Meh,” you rinsed your mouth, turning in his arms to face him and wrap yours around his neck, “thank God its Friday. How was yours?”

“It wasn’t great but then I came home and found both my girls curled up asleep on the couch and nothing else mattered,” he leaned forward and kissed you gently, “no better feeling than coming home to that.”

You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer to you. He tapped your thighs, telling you to wrap your legs around his waist and he carried you back to the bed. He gently pulled back the covers and placed you down at the top, making sure your head was comfortable on the pillow before standing back up to undress himself. As soon as he was down to his underwear he climbed onto bed and hoovered over you, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss.

“I want to come home to you every day,” he kissed down your neck, “and wake up to you every morning,” he started kissing down your stomach, “I want to have somewhere that is both of ours,” he lifted your thighs over his shoulders as he lay between your legs, “I want us to move in together.”

“Marcus!” you gasped, gripping at his curls as he nuzzled against the thin material that covered your centre.

“You don’t have to answer yet, but just know thats what I want,” he said as he pulled your underwear slowly down your legs.

Before you could talk, he licked up your folds and stopped any words from leaving your mouth causing them to be replaced by a gasp. He kept at a steady pace, licking and sucking and nibbling at your clit until he brought you closer and closer to the edge. As he felt your legs stiffen on his shoulders he pulled away, chuckled against you as you whined.

He climbed back up your body, placing a forearm at the side of your head while he lined himself up at your entrance.

“Soon, honey. I just needed to be inside you so badly-“ he was stopped by the groan that left him as he pushed inside, his other forearm quickly moving to brace his weight at the other side of your head.

You wrapped your arms tight around his waist and your arms around your shoulders as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. The only sound that filled the room was your quiet gasps that were muffled by his mouth being pressed into your neck and yours into his shoulder along with the noise of him thrusting in and out of you. He shifted his weight onto one arm, the other moving down to circle your clit once more.

You were already close and it only took a moment before you were reaching your peak, gasping his name as your arms scratched down his back trying to ground yourself from flying to the stars in that moment. You could barely making out the words whispered in your ear, Marcus letting you know how good you were, how good you felt cumming around his cock and that he was close to. Just as the blood stopped pumping in your ears as loudly you heard him groan your name, his thrusts stilling as he spilled his seed inside of you.

His weight collapsed onto you, him softening inside you as your hands scratched at his scalp.

“Yes, Marcus,” you whispered into his ear, “I would love for us to move in together.”

He turned his head, the tired smile on his face growing even wider as tears began to pool at the corner of his eyes.

“Really?” his voice cracked a little.

“Really,” you whispered back, your own eyes filling with tears, “I love you, Marcus, always.”

“I love you, forever,” he whispered back, his eyes already beginning to close with sleep.

You shuffled your bodies slightly so he was now curled into your side and you kept one hand in his hair, scratching back and forth as he fell deeper and deeper into sleep. You would fall asleep not long after him but not after letting your mind race with pure happiness at the thought of moving in with the man you loved.

//

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa 

Marcus fic tag // @heythere-mel @over300books @computeringturtle @a-skov @leias-rebelion @sfr99 @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage

[mego42]

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie​’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them. 

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study 

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers​

another grief study! 

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch 

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!! 

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!! 

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire​

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee​

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless​

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues​

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E  A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks​

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux 

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur​

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety 

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87​

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy 

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87​

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio? 

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is? 

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d 

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian​

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania​​

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy 

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

[anothersadsimp]

Hero Stress

Summary: Marcus has a tiring day and you help him relax

Words: 1785

Marcus Moreno has a very stressful life. From being a leader of the Heroics, and being a good father to a bright young lady took its toll on him. Of course he wouldn’t change it for the world. 

From the first time you met Marcus you could tell that there was a certain weight on his shoulders. More so than anyone else at the Heroics headquarters where you signed up to be one of their tech agents. He had greeted you with a dazzling smile that seemed to wash over you like a warm light. The moment you started talking to him, you knew he was gonna be a new constant in your life. 

As time went on you two had become very good friends, which then aloud you to confirm your suspicions. Marcus was under constant stress. You helped him when you could from making sure he eats lunch, to giving advice on what it's like to be a growing girl. Of course with you spending time with him, feelings began to grow. Sure, you knew it was “wrong” to have these feelings about someone who is practically your boss, but the heart wants what it wants. However, you liked and needed this job so you kept your mouth shut.

Unknowingly you had allured Marcus with your confident, but modest appeal. He would never admit it to anyone, but he loves when you come in during your lunch break. He finds it endearing that you worry for his health and wellbeing. Your compassion always makes him think that you would make a great hero. 

The thing is, is that he didn’t know it was love he was feeling until 6 months after meeting you. You both had grown close as friends, and you often helped care for Missy if work kept him late. There was one day where that had happened, and like the angel he thinks you are, you offered to pick up Missy from school. When he was finally done with the work mess that he had to clean up he dragged himself home. 

When he opened the door he didn’t expect to see you and Missy lounging on the couch, already in her pjs, watching some horrible scary movie. Take out boxes from Missy’s favorite restaurant were laid about, and she was laughing next to you as you were pointing something out in the movie. 

“Hey dad!” He greeted him as the door shut behind him. He walked over as he said his hellos, bending down over the couch to kiss the top of Missy’s head. 

“Looks like you guys were having fun.” He commented as he started shedding his leather jacket. Missy agreed and started telling him about her afternoon with you in an excited tone.

“And your homework?” He asked with a raised brow.

“I just have some reading to do this weekend.” She chirped. He looked over at you surprised, and a little skeptical.

“Yup, we went ahead and cranked out all her math homework.” You confirmed.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, and it was there he realized he never wanted to know a life without you. He will always remember that moment, remembering how domestic and magical it felt to come home to the both of you. He had sent Missy to get ready for bed as he thanked you profusely. 

After Missy had gone to bed the both of you sat on the couch nursing glasses of whatever wine Marcus had on hand. The two of you spent the rest of the night talking, and giggling at anything and everything. After your second glass you got ready to leave, and the both of you stood at his front door with big smiles. That was also the night he finally asked you out for dinner. 

He knew his feelings for you were always real, and he wanted something real with you. But he never really imagined falling hard for someone again, but damn is he grateful for it.

It was a hard day to end the week on, with heroes spread thin on missions seeing if there is a new threat arising. Anita had picked Missy up from school to have a weekend with her, giving you and Marcus some much needed alone time. You had gotten off earlier than Marcus had, and decided to grab things to cook him dinner. 

You knew he was gonna be late today, but you had hoped he’d be home before the sun had set. You sighed as you moved to put some soft music on to cook, and waltzed around the kitchen grabbing everything you needed. You softly hummed as you got started, pouring yourself a glass of wine to nurse as you cook.

Not long after you started cooking, you heard Marcus trudge in with a heavy sigh. You walked over to the empty wine glass you had gotten for him and filled it. He walks in to see you already heading towards him with the glass. He smiles before taking it, and sets it aside. You look at him confused, but it softens as he pulls you into a comforting hug. You wrap your arms around him, rubbing up and down his back hoping to soothe him. His hands had somehow made it under your shirt feeling your warm skin comforting him. 

“Go sit down, foods almost ready.” You say softly. 

He reluctantly pulls away, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before grabbing his wine and sitting at the table. You finnish up the fideo, putting it in two bowls before taking a seat next to Marcus. The two of you stayed quiet, just listening to the soft music play as you ate. 

He sat back into his chair after he finished eating, pushing the bowl a little further from him. Marcus threw his head back, eyes closed as he took a deep breath. You sit there and admire him for a bit, head void of thoughts. 

He cracks an eye open, “What’re you looking at?” 

“You” it passes softly with a tired smile adorning your face. 

He turns his head towards you and reaches a hand out to you. You grab his hand and let your arms hang down from the gravity. You start swinging your arms back and fourth to grab his attention.

“Why don’t you go start the shower, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

He nods, taking another sigh before standing up. You follow him, grabbing the bowls to put them in the sink. Marcus presses a kiss to the top of your head as he walks by you, making you smile. You walked the dishes over to the sink, hearing the soft music from the bluetooth speaker get further away. You quickly wash off the bowls, and put what leftovers there were in some containers. You placed the containers in the fridge, and padded your way to the bathroom. 

As you stepped in you see Marucs leaning in the shower, turning on the spray. When he stands up and turns towards you, you can see how tired he really is in his eyes. You frowned at the sight and walked up to him, lightly pulling his shirt over his head. You tossed it to the side, and in no time his hands were under your shirt feeling your warm skin. His hands slowly slide up, making the shirt slide up your body. You raise your arms up and he finally pulls it off over your head tossing it a long somewhere with his shirt. Quickly after he tossed it he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. 

The two of you stood there for a moment before he started to sway to the beat of the soft, slow music. You knew how much Marcus loved feeling your skin, knowing how it calms him down when his mind is overrun. So you indulge him as the shower warms up letting him wrap around you as you dance. His big hands rest on your waist occasionally rubbing up and down your back, as yours play with his hair at the nape of his neck. He hides his face in your neck, breathing you in, focusing on how you feel in his arms. 

You start lightly scratching the nape of his neck, “We should get in the shower baby.”

He nods his head while still nuzzled into you. You carefully move your hands down to the waistband of his pants, to undo them. They fall to the floor with a small thud, and you move to undo yours. You grab Marcus’ hand and lead him to the shower letting the hot water fall onto the both of you. 

You both washed each other, letting each other massage every knotted muscle you had. When you had both gotten done getting all of the suds off of you Marcus went back to holding you, content with just staying under the hot stream of water. 

“Lets go to bed baby.” You whisper, rubbing your hand up and down his back. 

It takes a moment but he finally lets you go so you could turn the water off. You both step out and you quickly grab two towels to wrap yourselves in. You walked over to the sink to quickly brush your teeth, Marcus following you doing the same thing. Once done you walked over to the dresser, first pulling out a pair of briefs to hand Marcus, then pulling out panties and one of your (his) favorite sleep shirts. 

He smiles as he walks out of the bathroom, looking at you sitting on the bed waiting for him in his shirt. You open your arms as a silent invitation for him to come snuggle into you, just how he likes when he’s worn out from stress. He climbs in getting under the covers with you, and you settle to lay down next to him. You both turn your lamps off before he pulls you into him, resting his head on his chest. 

Marcus ends up tangling his legs with yours, an arm coming over your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. You wrap your arms around him, both hands cradling his head. You rub his temple with your thumb as you cup his face and the other gently scratches at his scalp. His eyes are closed as he finally relaxes, and right before he falls asleep he presses a kiss on your chest where your heart beats as a silent ‘I love you’. You press a kiss to the top of his head, hands roaming his body in a soothing manner before which eventually lulls the both of you to sleep.

[lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos]

Sore Spot

Angel Reyes 18+. Not sure where I am going with this. Started in one direction and then took another turn. Totally random thing that just popped into my head. In my Angel feelings tonight . 680 words

“ Well look at that over there” Angel said from the table where most of the guys were hanging out with beers.

The exception to the rule was Coco who was on one fo the couches with a woman that had blue highlights in her black hair that was just below chin length.. He had his arms around her and she was sitting on his lap with her fingers in his hair a little.

“ Are you jealous Angel that Coco is getting some action?” EZ cracked with a smile and his arm around Zoe.

“ I have a woman in my life thank you very much.” Angel rolled his eyes

“ Yeah a three legged pitbull.” Hank cracked

“ Hey Jasmine is a sweetheart and she doesn’t hog the blankets on the bed . Even likes a shower.”

Angel got up from the table and lit a cigarette as he walked outside .

“ He was cutting back for a while.”

EZ sighed. “ Let me go talk to him.” He kissed Zoe’s cheek for a moment and got two beers from the bar.

Angel was sitting on the steps with his head leaning on the side of the clubhouse just blowing smoke into the air.

He felt cold glass being placed in his hand and then looked at his brother.

“ I’m sorry .”

“ For what ?”

“ Thought I hit a nerve in there.”

“ Just because I’m not all domestic and shit doesn’t mean I don’t want to be someday . Right now it isn’t the time. Sure I want a woman’s arms but hell I’m just Angel.” He swallowed some beer slowly . “ The prettier but not as smart Reyes brother . Not the favorite kid.” He took a drag on his cigarette again.

“ Do me a favor tell Bish I suddenly got a headache and I felt like going home to bed. I’ll be around tommorrow.”

“ Are you good to ride ?”

“ Sure I’ll talk to you tommorrow.”

EZ watched as his brother put out his cigarette and left his mostly full beer behind on the clubhouse steps. Then he went back inside .

He sighed as he sat down at the table .

“ Where’s Angel?” Zoe asked .

“ He went home , said he felt a headache coming on and he thought it was good to go home to bed. He’ll be here tommorrow early .” EZ played with the label on his beer bottle for a moment.

“ You don’t believe him?” Bishop asked.

“ No but when he gets like this sometimes he just needs space for a little while.” “ I think I hurt him when I didn’t mean to .”

Angels house on a backroad just below the one that led to where Marcus Alvarez lived and Nestor the guy who worked for Galindo . He pulled his bike into his cement driveway and parked it. Then he went inside and found Jasmine crunching her dog kibble in the corner of his kitchen. She heard him come in and went to his side with a low rumble. “ There’s my girl.” Angel sat down on the living room floor and the dog wandered over and rested her head on his lap while he pulled off his kutte and shirt. He had a blue tank top on under it and over his jeans.

“ So girl leftover chicken tonight ?” The dog barked a little.

“ Yeah I’m not feeling it, think dad will just crawl in bed.”

He whistled softly and Jasmines ears perked up and the two of them went down the hall to his bedroom. She hopped up on her side and then sprawled out at the bottom, of the bed after turning around once.

Angel petted her and rubbed her chin.

“ You’re a sweet girl Jas.”

He pulled off his jeans and just crawled into his bed . His phone was on the charger so he just let it go . Sleep would help right now and he didn’t feel like talking just then.