#which is why I think Marc offers to help there in the end

[age-of-moonknight]

“Ill Met by Moonlight,” Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2021), #24.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Federico Sabbatini; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[juneknight]

•.Be Lost.• 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 1.5 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 2.5

Summary: after a series of failures to find a dominant, your long time best friend Marc offers to give topping you a shot.

About this: Marc Spector/f!reader, mentions of kink, dominance and submission, kneeling, orgasm control

Immersivity: reader is a non-physically described cisgender woman. She works with animals and spends months out of the year in a place where it is cold—but this is the extent of her description. If there are other details which need mentioned because they hinder your immersive experience, please feel free to point them out.

*

“Give up. Give In. in the end It would be better to surrender before you begin. be lost. Be lost—And then you will not care if you are ever found.”—Victoria Schwab

*

Marc sends the message one night after the two of you have hung up from a lengthy venting session about your latest dating failures. A simple, without context: 

You could do better

I know, you type back, squinting at the screen of your phone in the darkness. Outside, the wind howls—another snowstorm which you hope will either amount to nothing or be bad enough that you won’t have to traverse the icy roads to work in the morning. You roll onto your side, adjusting the pillow beneath you. You’re covered nose to toes beneath the coverlet and still shivering, but Marc always has a way of making you feel warm. That’s why I told that guy off, isn’t it? I know I can do better. 

You watch as he types, no hesitation: 

You could do me

*

In the morning, you text him with one hand, spooning Cheerios into your mouth with the other. 

What, are you offering? There. You’re giving him an out. His message had confused you, left you spending half the night awake wondering about its context. You could do me. You could do me. You could do me? However he had meant it, you knew you had to offer him an easy way out. A fire escape. Maybe one of those seats on the plane that are right by the emergency exits. There’s a parachute beneath your seat, Marc, you think to yourself, drinking the remnants of milk from your bowl. Take it. 

Yes. Give me a chance to help you feel better

Your face flushes. God, how embarrassing is it that Marc knows how bad you need fucked? Not just that—Marc knows how bad you need submitted. That was the caveat of having him as a best friend: he was more likely to listen than to speak, and as such, you told him everything. All your struggles with the kink scene up here in your little frozen section of the States. All the things every guy before him had done wrong…

You aren’t into that stuff, you text back. 

And at the end of your work day, toes frozen in your boots, cheeks dry and chapped from the wind, you finally pull out your phone to see his response: 

Says who?

*

I’m at a disadvantage here, you type to him while cooking dinner. The tiny kitchen of the sublet you rent during the winter months smells of pesto. You’re just glad it’s warm, wiggling your bare toes by the heat of the stove. You know all my kinks, I don’t know yours. 

Marc sends a voice chat. It’s just over a minute long. Your heart is in your throat while your finger hovers over the play button. God, what the fuck could he be saying? Is he listing them all out for you, in alphabetical order or something? It will be the first time you’ve heard his voice since his text (“You could do me”, the phrase haunted your dreams now). 

Pressing the button, you quickly hold the phone up to your ear. There’s no one else in the sublet with you, but you still imagine that his words will be scandalous enough to curl the nails in the floorboards. 

There is rustling—Marc’s voice in the background, bright and laughing and calling out to someone, and then obviously speaking lowly into the phone to you: “You know what my kink is? Three years ago when I tried to take you hiking on that backpacking-for-beginners trail and got us lost, you remember? We spent half the fucking day—literally six hours or something—finding our way out, and after we did, I felt so bad I took you out to dinner. We didn’t even go home first, we were so hungry. We went to that fancy Italian place in town, both of us smelling like sweat and covered in dirt and at least ten pounds lighter from all the energy we burned out there in the woods, and when the waiter finally set that plate of food in front of you, you took a bite and you made this sound, this sound like you’d been dying of thirst but now you were lapping water right out of God’s palm. It was pleasure, and, and relief all in one—hearing you make that noise, and getting you to make it over and over again? That’s my kink. Do with that what you will.”

The voice message ends.

You drop your pesto spoon in the pot of boiling noodles. 

*

You call him that night. You have to. 

You and Marc have been friends for years, meeting in your early days of adulthood. It had been a fast friendship, both of you complimenting each other well. Marc was so easy to love, it had only made sense that you’d fallen in love with him. He was handsome and gentle and sometimes scathing and often hilarious. The only thing standing between him and a long term relationship was what Marc considered his ‘baggage’: the terrible abuse he had suffered as a boy, and the ramifications of it which he was still actively working to overcome after all these years. Marc didn’t think himself fit for marriage or even long-term dating. It was a shame for all the single women out there. 

A blessing for you, though. 

“Is this weird?” you ask as soon as he picks up the phone. “I don’t want things to be weird, Marc.” 

“You spent half your day FaceTiming a horse,” says Marc dryly. “I don’t think your life can get any weirder.” 

It was true—you had had to walk out to the barn three separate times today through the sleet to let an owner FaceTime with her horse who was sick and under your care. It had felt a little strange, being the third wheel in that conversation, but you understood her anxiety. 

“I just—Marc, I don’t want to lose you. As a friend.” 

You hear the phone shift as he shuffles it from one ear to another. He says: “The only way you could lose me would be if you told me to get lost. So can we figure this out?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” Maybe it’s desperate, but you’ve asked it. Marc has always taken efforts to compliment your appearance (resulting in heart palpitations all afternoon for yourself), but he’s never explicitly said that he finds you attractive. 

On the other end, Marc lets out a breath which sounds a little like a laugh. Or a sigh? “Yes. Are you attracted to me?” 

Marc clearly has never looked in a mirror as long as he has been alive. Tan skin that turns golden in the right lighting, dark curls that you wouldn’t mind trying to manage with your fingers, brown eyes that hint at the color of whiskey, a jaw to die for…

You clear your throat. “I mean—sure.” 

“Sure.” You can hear his smile on the other end. It makes you want to die, just a little. 

“Kind of.” 

“Understandable.” 

“You’re passable.”

“I’ll take it.” 

*

One time, he texts while you brush your teeth. And if I’m no good at it, you can keep going to all those kink clubs up in the arctic circle 

And if you are good at it? you wonder, because Marc has never been bad at anything in his life. Because ever since he suggested it, it’s all you’ve been able to think about, the feelings that you’ve had for Marc surging forward from the dusty shelf in the back of your brain where you had stored them all these years. Marc could just give you a look and you’re pretty sure it would melt you. There’s no way he’s going to be bad at topping you. 

Then I’ll take care of you

Yes. Yes, melting already. You spit in the sink and rinse.

*

“Tell me again how it went with this last guy,” Marc says during your next phonecall. The two of you call each other every other night religiously when you are away (“up in the arctic circle” as he would say) for the coldest three months of the year. His voice is warm and low, quiet. 

Even though you have already told him once, it is different now, isn’t it? The thought of relaying again everything that happened makes your face heat, makes you tug the blankets over your head until it is dark all around you. 

“Do I have to?” you wonder. 

“Do I have to make you?” he wonders back, voice lowering a fraction.

Your heart stutters. Your breaths begin to come at a faster rate. 

“No,” you say, breathy and obviously on the verge of being devastated. “I’ll tell—we met on fetlife. He seemed nice and his picture was cute. Our interests lined up, so we met up at one of the clubs in town, but even though our interests had matched up on paper, we weren’t, like, meshing in real life. 

“Like—,” you have to pause to clear your throat, voice dropping down low enough to almost be considered a whisper. God, you couldn’t believe you were telling Marc this again. “He…he called me a slut. I had marked that I wasn’t into degradation like that, but I think he thought it was an exception.” 

“Why did he think that?” Marc asks. You’ve heard it said before that a lawyer never asks a witness a question that they don’t already know the answer to. In this moment, it seems like Marc is the same way. 

“Because he called me his slut,” you admit. “He thought that would like, negate…I don’t know.” 

“Are you?” Marc asks. “A slut, I mean.” 

It rolls off your tongue before you can stop it: “Not his.” 

There comes a breathy little exhale from Marc’s end of the line. It couldn’t be you—not when you’re holding your breath, eyes wide at your own audacity, at the mere suggestion that you would be okay being Marc’s slut, but not this stranger’s. Marc’s voice rasps from the other end: “I know, honey. I know.

“Tell me what happened next.” 

*

I’ve been thinking, you text the next morning (which is true, there is a single moment spent outside of work that you aren’t spent thinking about this). Maybe this is where I’m going wrong with every guy, but—maybe we should practice. On the phone, you know? 

Over text? he asks. 

Sure, you say, aiming for nonchalant. 

I want to hear your voice, he texts, effectively ruining any hope you had for nonchalance. It’s the last thing you want though. You’re terrified that hearing Marc’s voice croon such dangerous, sinful things to you will destroy you. You will be irrevocably changed. There will be the Before Marc times and the After Marc times.

Compromise? Start like this, and if we’re clicking, then we can do it over call. 

It, he teases. Can you say it? Can you tell me what you want? 

Jesus, Marc. You know what I want. 

Use your words. 

You whine, an honest-to-God audible whine beneath your blankets. He’s already slipping into the role so well. Or is he? Is he truly made to be dominant, some prodigious Dom, or are you simply made to melt at everything he does? But it also brings to light the question: what do you want? 

Can I think about it? 

Always, he says. 

*

It takes time for you to gather your thoughts. Everything to think about the fact that this is Marc you’re talking about, your brain gets fuzzy and you lose your words. Finally, you devote yourself to writing it out longhand and thinking in general terms. What would you have wanted from Mr. My-Slut if he had asked you the same question? 

When you’re finished, you text it to him before you can second guess yourself. 

I want to feel owned. I want to feel small but safe. I want to feel consumed, like nothing else matters but you and what you do to me and what I do for you. I want my head to feel empty of anything that isn’t good for me or doesn’t feel good. 

You bury your face in your pillow, but aren’t even there long enough to suffocate before your phone buzzes with a reply. 

I can do that. 

*

For a while, you don’t text Marc. You even miss one of your ritualistic calls. The thought of speaking to him when he knows what you want from a Dom is too much. Before, it had been easy to brush off your kinks to him. So much about wanting to be submitted had become akin to pop culture. Yeah, I want someone to tie me up and spank me and call me a slut, tee-hee! 

It had always gone so much deeper for you, and for so many others, you could imagine. You were a hard worker even as a child. You became someone that people could rely on—and too often, they did. It only made sense that you would crave a way to be useful to someone, crave a way to shut your mind off. Crave a way to feel loved. 

You throw yourself into your work, marking off days on a calendar. The first day of March, you will drive south back to the city. Back to Marc. Your contract here will be up, until next winter. God, you can’t wait to see him again. He always meets you outside the door to your building, chewing gum and pacing, like he’s nervous. Though only God knows what he would have to be nervous about. 

Marc doesn’t text or call you either. He must have picked up on the vibes. Instead, he gives you space. 

The next time you are due for your nightly vent sessions, Marc calls you. If you are worried you’ll get a talking to (or at least questions: why you hadn’t called, whether or not you were mad at him or other absurdities), you don’t get one. You slip back into the warm easiness that is your friendship, swapping stories about your days, talking about current events. Sometimes you don’t say anything, just sit in silence knowing the other person is there or listen to the quiet sounds of the other doing some mundane task: folding laundry, pouring a glass of water. 

You exchange your customary ‘Love you’s at the end of the call, but the words reverberate in your throat. You love him. You really do. 

*

Okay, show me what you got. 

? 

Come on, you know what I mean. I’m ready. Let me have it. 

Oh is that how this goes? 

You blink at the question. …yeah?

I don’t think so, he texts. You know how to ask for something you want. 

Your heart leaps to your throat. Thumbs shaking a little, you ask: How’s that? 

You say please. 

You take a deep, soothing breath. Please? 

That’s the word, yeah. Then he sends the thumb’s up emoji—monster. 

Marc, I’m ready. Can we try, please? Your nerves are shot, stomach in your throat as you wait for a response. As soon as you see him start typing, you lose your nerve and turn off your phone screen. It’s like a horror movie. You can’t watch. When he finally sends a response and you open it, your mouth drops. 

You can do better than that, can’t you? And a moment later: Beg me.

Fuck you, you text, laughing brightly at his audacity. 

Not with that attitude, he types. I only fuck good girls. 

“Jesus, Marc,” you mutter to yourself, breaths coming fast and short. How can he just say stuff like that? Single sentences that are hotter than any of the dirty talk men have given you during sex over the years. For a while, you are torn on what to answer. You want to quip, to say something bratty and whitty that will make him give one of his quiet exhales of laughter, the kind you are so familiar with hearing from the other end of your sofa while you both scroll through your phones. But, deep down—

What if I’m not a good girl? Maybe he’ll consider it just mindless sexy talk. Yeah, I’m not a good girl, I’m a bad girl. Maybe you’ve even said something like this before to one of those other guys. You can almost hear in some generic male voice the response: yeah, you’re such a bad girl. 

Which is why Marc’s answer is so striking: She’s in there. Do I need to help you? 

You have no idea what it could mean, but your fingers answer without any hesitation: Yes please

And your phone rings. 

You answer it. Holding the phone to your ear, you become aware of how you are holding your breath, not letting a single word or sound pass through your lips. 

On the other end, you can hear Marc’s steady, soft breathing. 

“You there, baby?” 

You hum in affirmation, but it comes out as a choked whine that makes your face turn hot. 

“You’re going to have to use your words,” he warns. “But I’ll help you. Alright? The only thing I need you to do is this: if I say something that isn’t true, don’t say it. Otherwise, just repeat after me. Can you do that?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Good girl,” he says, voice dipping into a silky, pleased octave from his side of the phone. Your thighs clench together. Holy fuck. He’s going to destroy you. “Here we go: Marc Spector.”

“Marc Spector,” you sigh shakily. Easy enough. 

“I trust you.”

“I trust you.”

“I trust you so-o much.”

You snort. “I trust you so-o-o much.”

“That I trust you to know what I need.” Mouth dry, you repeat the words. He adds: “And I trust you to be able to give it to me.”

“Marc,” you whisper, though you don’t know why. 

“I love the way you sound when you say my name,” Marc admits to you. “Especially when you sound half-wrecked, and I’m five hundred miles away, not even able to touch you. But I need you to be a good girl and follow my directions. Repeat after me, or say nothing. Can you do that? Say, Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he says again. “I don’t know how anyone could mistake you for anything else. Now keep repeating, okay?: I trust you to be able to give me what I need.” 

“I trust you to be able to give me what I need,” you repeat. As you say it, the words strike you in the chest. They’re true. You really do. All the people in the world, and maybe you love Marc more than any of them. And he is the sort of man who keeps his word—always. 

“And I want it.”

“I want it,” you breathe. 

“Real bad, Marc.” 

“Really bad, Marc.” 

“Are you in bed?”

“Are you in—wait—“ Marc laughs. “Yes? I’m—“

“I want you to get out of bed and get on your knees,” he says—just casually. Oh, lovely evening, now get down on your knees for me. Like being on your knees for Marc wasn’t on your mind constantly these days. 

Without higher thought, you throw the blanket off, the cold air chilling your body. Sitting up, you let your legs dangle off the edge of the bed, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder. Your socked-toes skim the floor. 

“What’s it matter if I go down there?” you whisper. “I’m in a different state. It’s not as if you can see me.”

“It matters to me,” he says. “If it’s too cold, put down a blanket. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Go on.” 

You don’t bother with the blanket, appreciating the chilly floors against your bare knees and shins. You sit on your heels, thighs squeezed tightly together. 

“What if I just lie?” you wonder. “Say I did it, but I’m still under the covers.” 

“You wouldn’t do that. Are you down there?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Fuck. ‘What does it matter’, as if I need to see you. Like I can’t picture you clear as day in my head. Like it doesn’t mean more to me to know you’re on your knees a hundred-hundred miles away, just because I told you to.” Marc sounds strangely wrecked, and the knowledge that this menial action really has affected him so deeply has your shoulders going lax, bowing over to rest the top half of your frame against the soft mattress. Your cunt aches. 

“Marc,” you whine. 

“Yes?”

“Please,” you groan, turning to muffle your face into the mattress. Your further words are just inarticulate mumbles. He laughs, soft and warm. 

“Spread your knees apart,” he says. “Far apart, as wide as you can.” 

It is the last thing you want to do, but you do it. The brief sparks of pleasure that lit you up every time you clenched your thighs together are gone now, the cool air brushing against your heated sex through your underwear. It only emphasizes how much you ache, how little you’ve been satisfying yourself lately because every time your hand dips between your legs, Marc comes to mind, and you’re too flustered to give in and rub one out thinking of him. But oh god, that’s going to change. You can tell. 

“Are you wet right now?” he wonders lowly. 

You make a sound that is the vaguest affirmation you can give. 

He exhales, the sound shaky through the speaker. “You’re so fucking good. I don’t know how you could ever think otherwise. Absolutely perfect. That’s how I know you’re going to be good and follow this next rule of mine.” 

“Wha’s that?” you slur, head fuzzy where it rests against your sheets.

“You can touch yourself as often as you like,” he says, making your face burn hot again. “Use those toys I know you have—but absolutely no one else. Not in person, not over the phone. If we do this, you rely on me and I do the same for you. Deal?”

“Deal,” you sigh, relieved that his condition goes both ways. You aren’t necessarily strict on monogamy, but you are strict on devotion. The last thing you could ever do would be to go behind your partner’s back—and it’s something that could be liable to shatter your heart if it happened to you. 

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he says. “But this next part is just as important okay, so make sure you’re listening, yeah?” 

“I’m listenin’.” 

“If you want to cum, you get permission from me, first.”

[weidli]

thinking about the points of criticism people usually have about qos and honestly it's really fascinating how i can pretty neatly categorize them by "that IS what happened but it was the fucking point and also good" "that IS what happened and it WAS fucked up but have you considered this in comparison to what happens in every other bond movie" and also "did you watch the movie"

the quick cuts in the fight scenes

yeah that occured and it's definitely a choice that you can like or dislike but i thought it was cool! i simply do not care that much about chase/fight scenes beyond like, a. cool music b. what it says about the characters c. fucking up my favorite boy. and they do all these things AND it's over quickly so we can get to the thing i'm actually here for (scenes where people are just Interacting in fucked up ways and manners). plus like without knowing what marc forster's said about it the impression i get from it is that they were like yeah guys okay you know what a bond movie chase/fight scene looks like from a Movie Perspective let's dig into what it FEELS like from bond's side. which i like! again perfectly valid to argue about how well it was executed but they made a bold choice and stuck to their guns about it and i like that in a movie

(there IS one point at which it annoys me and that's the very end of the boat chase because i still have no fucking idea what hell bond actually DOES to that last Villain Boat. but also i don't care so it's fine)

dominic greene as the villain

people say he's too boring and yeah okay he's definitely not mads fucking mikkelsen but i think that's the POINT? he's a boring unremarkable little man and he's also causing a drought in bolivia JUST for profit and it's hurting the people who actually live there in very real ways. i BELIEVE THIS GUY EXISTS. i walk past people who look like this guy regularly. the theme of qos is evil is banal and rooted into everything and you never know who's good and who's evil and this guy being our big bad supports that! i'm cool with it! AND i think it's neat that the movie explicitly says oh bond btw your government now LIKES this guy and him getting to do this would be Good for England and bond goes FUCK you i'm helping my new bolivian secret service best friend save the people of bolivia who gives a shit about ENGLAND. it's an interesting thing to do!

plus greene is also afaik the only bond villain in god knows how long not to have some kind of disability or facial disfigurement as a signal for how Evil He Is and i think this DOES contribute to people thinking he's boring and man idk. i think i'm on the side of the villains NOT all being facially disfigured or disabled maybe

general medrano as a character is one-dimensional and kind of racist

yeah this one's just true and a valid criticism of the movie and i definitely understand people disliking qos because of this. it is however also true of Most Other Bond Movies so i'm not sure why people single out qos on this one

how fields is treated as a character

this is one i UNDERSTAND not liking and i would definitely like the movie BETTER if fields got more interiority as a character but again think it's weird to single out qos for especially since i often see this criticism coming from people who REALLY liked skyfall and look. look. i ALSO enjoy skyfall. but i am FAR madder about how that movie treated severine than i am about how this one treats fields. i mean fields shows up, bosses james bond around a bit (good for her), cheerfully and willingly has sex with him because hey she works in a consulate filing reports all day the woman wants to live a little and he offered! she could have just said FUCK off and walked out of there and instead she smirked and went after him. i respect that! get it girl! implied she handcuffed him too and sure! personally i wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole but have fun!

and then she trips elvis down the stairs (hilarious) and the next thing we see of her is. yeah okay this is the thing people are mostly mad about i think and again i GET it. i'm a little mad about it also because i don't like that they had her be naked (like on a doylist level). sure goldfinger callback WHATEVER fuck you. but aside from that i'm okay with it mostly for two specific reasons, those being (1) they do the same fucking thing to mathis like, ten minutes earlier. equal opportunity fridging. everyone gets to die to make james bond have emotions and (2) it actually. Has an effect on bond?? again i'm mostly thinking of this as opposed to severine in skyfall (solange in casino royale is a whole nother discussion but definitely worth some thought also). i mean for one the sex bond has with severine doesn't make very much sense character wise and also is fucked up as hell (the man establishes that she was sexually abused as a child and maybe still is and then he sneaks into her shower for no discernible reason???? fuck off) and then her death is. i mean to be entirely honest the first time i saw that scene i did not even clock that silva killed her. i thought the point was that she was so terrified of him that the second he shot in her direction she ducked and that's why the shot glass spilled, not that he KILLED HER. which is backed up by the fact that bond does not react to this in any discernable way whatsoever. you can watch the whole movie thinking she's still alive (i should know, i did it) and it changes nothing because she's never fucking mentioned again. bond's madder about his CAR getting blown up. jesus christ.

whereas with fields bond is visibly horrified (up to interpretation whether he's straight up having a panic attack for a minute there but his breathing DOES get fucked for a second or two) and it's what tips him over into going fully rogue despite m telling him that mi6 and the cia will be gunning to kill him if he does. yeah it's still a woman getting brutally killed to further the character development of a man but again (a) they do the same thing to a man right before (best scene in the movie btw it makes me upset and i enjoy that) and (b) at least it's treated like it. Matters to him? which is a low fucking bar but one skyfall limbos right under so

short

yeah it is. liked that though 🤷‍♀️

the plot doesn't make sense

it's definitely got some holes but hello. who the fuck is watching james bond movies for the PLOT. have you seen the rest of the bond oeuvre.

there's a guy with a floating broom in the background at one point

yep. hilarious. petition for floating broom guy to be in every movie. he's an agent of spectre (the c stands for cleanliness) (they're very passionate about it)

it just doesn't FEEL like a proper bond movie

okay i'll give you that one but you see that's GOOD. WE'VE HAD ENOUGH BOND MOVIES. GIVE DANIEL CRAIG A BUDGET AND LET HIM FUCKIGN COOK.

[argentumcor]

Speculating on the Unmade Cyberpunk 2077 Expansions

I lack hope for the other two planned expansions for Cyberpunk getting made, so I find myself pondering what might have been.

I think one thing that would have bounded the expansions is that they would have been set in Night City. Night City is a character unto itself in the game and the source material, which doesn't go outside the city much. A lot of work was put into the city, including places where there are no quests.

Also, the plot needs to at least seem to be offering V a solution to her dying problem. That's the motive for V doing all the major plot points in the game, while the rest is either helping Johnny save his soul, being able to pay rent, doing favors for friends, or V being mortally curious (many such cases).

That's a useful limit when pondering these never-to-be-made expansions, as is keeping in mind the themes, plot hooks, and existing "gaps" in the game map.

So:

The Arasaka Supercarrier & Arasaka internal politics

Del Coronado Bay is, effectively, a giant hole in the map that isn't used for anything. Existing aircraft carrier are essentially floating cities, so supercarrier Kujira- already named, discussed, and technically existing on the map- could be a "district" the size of Dogtown, easily. Saburo and Hanako traveled across the Pacific on this floating fortress, so it definitely isn't just all practical military asceticism. You'll have those military areas, as well as a hospital, luxury areas, labs, probably even simulated outdoor areas, and much more. The travel to and from the ship could play the role of hidden loading screen like the transition gates to and from Dogtown.

(Look at that concept art. That is some killer concept art.)

We get hints of Arasaka's internal turmoil in shards and in our interactions with Takemura and Hanako. It's the corp's internal turmoil that sets off the whole plot, really. We also know that Arasaka, and many other corps, tend to the cultish, especially in Japan, which is Kujira's home station. So post-Saburo strife to the point of shooting on Kujira is quite possible, with these conflicts serving the purpose of the gangs on land. There's also plenty of room for interpersonal drama- uncertainty about what is going on for employees far from home, the possibility that there are people who essentially live aboard the ship with their families considering the scale of the thing with their own social dynamics, Arasaka corporate backstabbing and secrets.

How would this all pull V onboard? Enter one Michiko Arasaka, granddaughter of Saburo, and her husband Marc Sanderson, one or both of whom get V onto the ship. "Oh not another damsel in distress!" First, couple in distress- more Casablanca, less Super Mario. Second, it's not about saving their lives, but choosing whether or not they come under Yorinobu's control or live free. This would not be black and white, for V, Johnny, or the player, as Yorinobu's motives are much more complicated than just corpo greed. The game ends with a non-solution for V where the pair get free of Arasaka or a solution tendered by Yorinobu, who in this expansion we'd get to learn more about. What this would look like, the mechanics of it, I don't know.

Oh, and we'd also figure out just what Netwatch wanted with the biochip and why Yorinobu insisted the engram on said biochip be Johnny.

Were I inclined to being hopeful, I'd say the convo you can have with Lizzy Wizzy after her Dogtown performance was hint at this one happening. She mentions that V could use spending some time at sea.

The Rest of North Oak & Follow-up to Black Dog

The other big map gap is the sealed off section of North Oak. There's a fully modeled, animated, and uninhabited country club up there, but it's locked off. It's a pretty big area, though I'm not sure how big. I wouldn't mind North Oak getting more filled in overall. I feel the bare minimum was done to it- time is my bet- and it should be more built-up based on in-game chatter. Not dense, but not so sparse.

All this would revolve around Angel (a fragment of Alt?) and the secret she'd keeping that is Johnny's frozen body. North Oak seems like a place she would be for some reason. A lot more glitz and glamor, given the locale. Exploring Alt, who is/was probably not a particularly good person (she made Soulkiller and while Johnny was a bastard, she was just as bad in that scene). This idea is a lot less defined and mostly exists because I swear Black Dog was written entirely to give Cyberpunk 2077 the option for a happy ending, then references were put into the game.

Ending Possibilties

So far, Johnny and V's story is missing only a few possible endings. One ending that isn't there, and I've seen only one fic exploring this, is stabilizing V's brain so how it is in the game is how it is, but with V not dying. I don't think either party views it as ideal, but also it means both live. Another is, of course, the widely explored idea where Johnny gets his own body back. Now, this could kill V, or leave V still dying, or fix everything. Phantom Liberty gave us 'V lives and is not left dying but Johnny is dead' and I would think every expansion would include some new version of an ending addressing the game's core conflict because it gives it stakes.

[herooffire101]

Okay, so this was for a writing event on a Pokemon forum (it's a small Pokemon forum) and the inspiration was a video I found years ago. Basically, it's based in the forum's fan region, and you had to write a journal entry based on doing something...I used my human names for Bombalurina, Tugger, and Munkustrap for it. I based the Pokemon they use on my Magic Cats post, so there we have it. Also, I used different fonts for each character, so it may not translate well. Anyway, enjoy!

May 15th

I don’t know how to start this, but somehow Travis decided to explore this cave near the Navirou River and drag all of us along. Me and Marcus have to keep track of him, all while dragging my sister and Marcus’s girlfriend Demeter all over the place. The cave was damp, and damper as we got deeper in, making me miserable, and Tarlavra was miserable too. Demeter was miserable too, with Voltaire refusing to come out of his ball. Both Travis and Marcus, on the other hand, were fine, happy in Travis’s case. I love him, but sometimes he doesn’t think ahead. Travis wanted to see where this cave would go, and he was hoping that maybe we could find the source of the river, seeing how it wasn’t documented yet. Why did our parents allow us to explore this region this summer again? To give us (Mainly me and Travis) an opportunity to gain enough credit to skip a grade. Just because Travis is the Ground type expert between us doesn’t mean that he should go into a cave willy nilly! Crap, I’m going off topic again. My Typhlosion wouldn’t let us go deeper in the cave without her protecting me (I love her so much) and providing us light (after the one time Trav decided to run into a cave dragging me along and ending up in complete darkness when we were ten and Tarlavra was a Cyndaquil).With her flames lighting up the cavern, Travis decided to talk about how the walls were made up a combination of what looked like a combination of sedimentary and metamorphic rocks, which was unusual for caves around here (how does he know that? I’m the one who took the forging and survival courses offered, because one of us has to make sure that my idiot boyfriend survives long enough to marry graduate with me), and this was such a find. Demeter, bless her, basically clung onto Marcus as we shared a look of exasperation at my boyfriend and Marcus’s younger brother.

I question every time I have to write this because I know that my weakness is writing while Travis is the better writer than me, but it was placed onto me because, and I quote, “You are the most straightforward between the four of you, and you can make sure that his thoughts on this expedition are clarified.” Jokes on you, I go onto tangents! Marc and Dem are the ones who should have asked! Of course, they each gave us roles according to our strengths. I’m the strategist, and occasional tailor for our little quartet, while Demeter is our photographer (which is amazing because this adventure goes into her photography credentials) and one of our solid voices of reason. Marcus is our general leader (who need Demeter to listen to him when I admit me and Travis get on his nerves, which is a lot of the time), and Travis is our resident Ground, Rock, and Steel enthusiast as well being my handsome rockstar boyfriend who helps me cook our meals while on this expedition. He loves messing with other people’s expectations for him, but the rest of us see him how he really is.

Shit, I did it again! Anyway, we went deeper into the cavern, and Travis finally cut off his rambling and shushed us. He asked me (because honestly my ears definitely are more sensitive than his) if his ears weren’t playing tricks on him and he heard rushing water. I’m glad he did ask me because I could hear it, so I followed my ears, with Travis making sure I didn’t run into anything because I’ve done this before and may have given myself a sprained wrist and plenty of cuts and bruises due to not looking where I was going. It took us a little while longer to get to the source but when we got to the source, all of us were surprised. It wasn’t just the source of the Navirou river, but a hot spring, surrounded by many crystallite structures littering the walls and ceiling. And, somehow, there was some kind of light glow coming from the crystals. Once we got to a good place to set up our little camp far enough away from the spring on a nearby rock shelf (with Travis’s approval even though both me and him are fifteen), we did some check like how we were taught. Marcus set up his water testing module while me and Demeter scouted so really good photo shots, some including our set up. While miserable in the cave system, Voltaire the Jolteon was out and pawing at the water, which I sneakily took a video of (both me and Dem found it so cute). Tarlavra sat herself the farest away from the water, and it looked to me that she was fighting herself from take a nap. Marc did his water testing, and declared it safe to drink and swim. He has his Vaporeon, River, scout underwater for any local Pokémon colonies (This is a reminder to me and anyone reading this account, a goal in this expedition was to identify what Pokémon lived here and if it completely necessary for the League to make certain areas in Meroi Protected Preservation Areas) while the rest of us make sure that the area was secure for us.

Hey, I stole this report journal from Beatrice, and I can clearly say that these crystalline structures already ring out to me that they should be a limited access area due to the natural beauty and the harmonic resonance-

Travis do NOT take the journal out of my hands or I will tape them together while you sleep.

But Bea…

If either of you continue fighting about this, I will tell Mum and Jenny.

(There are some unreadable scribbles)

Now, since I can continue this entry, I accidentally started singing what I thought was under my breath, when in reality the soundwaves amplified the acoustics and made Travis, then Marcus and Demeter join into my song. It was then we discovered that somehow, the crystals reflected the sound waves off of the hot spring. Once we hit the last chord (which sounded so beautiful like we were on the stage singing, only without using microphones to amplify our voices), Marc made the decision to recommend the restriction of this environment because once the song ended, a bunch of Pokémon popped their heads out from under the water. There was some more deep water Pokémon, like Relicanth, which I didn’t think would at least feel the soundwaves of our voices from under the water. Demeter did get the best shots of this, so they were included with our report, along side a video Travis did of me singing and the Pokémon living in the water watching like an audience of children, fascinated with my mini performance. As a music nerd, this cave just fascinates me because I want to bring my bassoon down here and record it, just for the reverb. As this expedition is a four-person effort, I will pass this journal expert to Marcus.

As the Team Leader, I highly recommend that this hot spring, which we have designated as the potential source of the Navirou River, as a restricted access, possibly for trainers who are cleared by the region professor, Professor Hemlock, and or fulfilled the Pokémon League requirements as a member of the Hall of Fame and cleared by the League Champion.

Marcus, that’s really dry. You have to have the respect of the Prof and Head Trainer of the League, simple as that.

Beatrice, distract my brother, please.

With Pleasure.

Signed,

Beatrice R. Ford

Demeter A. Ford

Travis J. Jellicle

Marcus M. Jellicle

Yea if it's harder to read, then I completely understand. Also Tumblr did not like what I was trying to do.

[bloggersformovingandpackers]

What to Know Before Moving to Gaithersburg MD

Are you considering a move in Gaithersburg, Maryland? Nestled within Montgomery County, Gaithersburg is an expanding city that blends suburban convenience with urban accessibility. With great schools, diverse communities and an easy connection for Washington D.C., it's not a surprise that more and more people choose to call Gaithersburg home. Before you begin moving your belongings, here's a few essential things to consider -- and the reasons why hiring dependable moving companies to Gaithersburg MD could be the most important factor.

1. Understanding the Local Vibe

Gaithersburg is an melting pot of different cultural backgrounds, providing the feeling of belonging with a variety of people. If you're moving in with your family, preparing for your fresh job or looking for an opportunity to make a new start The city offers an inviting atmosphere, with lots of restaurants, parks and recreation centers. It's divided into two areas: Olde Towne and its historical charm and a modern Kentlands/Lakelands region, which is known for its the accessibility to walking and modern lifestyle.

2. Cost of Living

When compared to other cities of Maryland, Gaithersburg has a relatively low price of living specifically in comparison to the nearby D.C. But it's important to plan your budget for utilities, housing, and transportation. If you're moving outside the state Local moving companies from Gaithersburg MD will also offer information on affordable housing options and ways to deal with local costs.

3. Navigating Traffic and Transportation

Although Gaithersburg provides access to major highways, such as I-270 along with I-270, as well as the MARC Train for commuters the traffic can be quite intense during peak times. Plan your move to avoid high traffic times is strongly advised. Professional moving companies who are located in Gaithersburg Maryland are knowledgeable about local routes and will save your some time (and headaches) on the day of the move by staying clear of congestion hotspots.

4. Weather Considerations

Maryland's seasons are clearly defined. The winter months can bring snow while summers are extremely humid and hot. If you're planning to move during winter, think about weather-related delays. Utilizing professional moving companies who are based in Gaithersburg MD will ensure that your possessions are safe to handle regardless of the weather.

5. Finding the Right Moving Help

The most crucial factors in a successful relocation is deciding on the best Movers. Find licensed as well as insured and well-respected Movers within Gaithersburg MD who can provide services that are tailored to your specific needs, whether that's all-inclusive packing, local move or long-distance relocations. Local movers who are reputable are familiar with the area and can ensure a smooth experience from beginning to end.

Final Thoughts

Moving to a brand new city is an enormous step however, with the right planning and guidance, it could be among many rewarding. Gaithersburg is the ideal location to strike a equilibrium between peace in the suburbs and urban opportunities. When you're looking to relocate to work, family or for a change in your lifestyle, hiring a professional Movers to Gaithersburg MD will help make your move easier and more efficient.

When you are deciding on your plan, take time to research the area. Don't undervalue the importance of a professional team for moving. Moving successfully begins with a well-planned plan and concludes with welcoming you for your home you've chosen to call Gaithersburg!

[threegoldfish]

Where Marc wouldn't be so easy to persuade - oh, absolutely not - Steven is... a lot more pliable in that regard, more... open, more receptive to someone being kind, offering him words spoken in a gentle, calming tone that seem to make so much sense. That... take away some of the fear he feels, some of that dread that had begun to bloom within the center of his chest - like a flower, just ugly and unwanted.

Does it still do something to him here, knowing that this is happening, that he is truly here, that nothing of what's going on here is created by a sleeping mind? ---Yeah, absolutely. But it's not frightening Steven as much as it would have mere moments ago - simply because he'd had the chance to come to terms with it on his own, and... honestly? With him sleep walking, waking up at strange places, it was bound to happen at some point, no?

---So, this isn't a dream. It's real, all of this is. As much as Steven had wished for it to be just that - a moment in his life where he goes through something fake until waking up - it's very much what he has to face now.

He's just so, so, so relieved to hear that he did not commit a crime, apparently. That he isn't restrained, that he isn't going to be wearing handcuffs, that he isn't going to be... punished. No punishment, just... just a Doctor trying to help, wanting to work on Steven's mental state, might be able to figure out why he is doing it so much... and why his body won't lest him rest in peace.

"...I just... ---Y-you know, I have been... I have been thinking 'bout whether I'm going bonkers, maybe..." A sniffle, a swallow, dark eyes glistening with the moisture that appears at the corners of his eyes as Steven continues to look at the Doctor, then glances to the side. Cradles the bottle a bit more closely to his chest even, which causes him to squeeze the plastic, pushing bright blue liquid dangerously close to where said bottle is still open and rubbing to a white sweatshirt. "...B-But thinking about it in a serious way is... hard. I was always afraid of... ending up somewhere, some day, and then there's all of those documentaries that tell of... o-of horrible psychiatric hospitals where patients are tied to their beds a-and... and cannot leave, have to stay there for the entire day, forced to take medication and... a-and... all of that..."

Another sniffle, and one of Steven's hands lets go of his drink, so he can use the back of it to wipe along his eyes - rubbing away some of those tears, followed by a sigh, him closing those eyes for a moment as he tries to collect himself. Counts to ten inside his mind in a steady pace before nodding, then flicking his lids back open to take another look at Doctor Harrow sitting there, regarding him with all the patience a man could wish for, honestly.

"So I... never went to the Doctor. Now here I am. M-maybe... maybe that's... my fault. Had I just kicked my arse and went to talk about my sleep-walking habit a bit sooner, perhaps I could've... I dunno, done weekly therapy or... something. But now I'm here, and I... I can't even remember what I did before I woke up in that chair over there..."

A pause, and Steven takes a few tentative steps back over to said chair - stops, looks at it, then... takes a seat. Holds that bottle on top of his lap now, gaze stuck on that desk for a moment.

All it takes is another second, and then he nods. Nods once more. Nods a third time before dark brown irises trail back up and meet the other man's own, accompanied by another set of furrowed brows and a reddened nose from all the sniffling, the somewhat-crying he's doing here - silent, but heartfelt.

"...I guess... I guess I have to be in here. It's what I should do. To... be here and... figure it out. ---Try to, at least, y-yeah? Yeah... yeah, that's... that's it, then..." ... "...---You said I have a room? That means... I've... I've been here for a little bit already? Does that mean I can just... go out there and... have breakfast? ...Do you serve vegan food? I... I'm vegan, a-and I'd prefer if I can stay vegan. I don't like eating animals..."

Arthur stayed seated, though every instinct in his body was alert. His stillness was easy to mistake for relaxation, even laziness, but it was far closer to restraint. A hundred tiny thoughts layered themselves behind his eyes, but he didn’t allow a single one to interrupt the moment he was sharing with the man. 

Steven. Not Marc. Not even close. 

The accent, the cadence, the posture - none of it was performed. It was too reflexive, too consistent, too whole. Too complete, and yet with no acknowledgment of being someone else. Not even a sense of a shift. It could still be regression, maybe. It could be a delusional overlay. Or… 

Gods, or it could be something else entirely. 

His hands folded calmly over his good knee, his posture open and safe as Steven turned to him with that achingly honest expression. It was a deep kind of sorrow, like a child catching himself just a second too late before tears would fall. 

Arthur’s voice, when it finally came, was again soft. Not pitying, but genuine. 

“Steven,” he echoed gently; validating, noting. Not correcting, not at all. That was what the man preferred to be called, right now. It was an oddity, but Arthur didn’t meet it with judgement or disbelief; he was just meeting the man there, in this new name he gave. 

“I think,” he spoke slowly, “That you are very scared. And that makes sense. When the world stops behaving in the way it should, when we don’t remember how we got somewhere or why we feel the way we do, it’s easy to assume the worst. That something bad must have happened.” 

He watched Steven’s face, his own tone remaining neutral and calm; grounded. Hopefully enough for Steven to cling to. 

“But I haven’t been told of any crime that you have committed. No one is hurt, here. You’re not restrained, there’s no surveillance, you’re not being punished. You’re here because you might need a bit of help, that’s all.” 

It wasn’t a lie, though it was a carefully formed truth. 

“You know that these… sleep walking events are a problem, right? I’d like to help figure out what’s causing them. That’s it, that’s all you’re here for.” 

There was no room for assumption, and no space for suggestion. Especially not out loud, to Steven; as nice as it felt to try and pick this apart. The man was obviously scared, and pushing too much could lead to another break; something that Marc’s mind likely couldn’t handle. 

“We’re just going to keep you here for a bit, if that sounds alright. We’ll have people watching you, to make sure you don’t end up sleep walking - and you’ll be able to talk to me, so we can figure out how to stop it. Does that sound like something that might interest you…?” 

[m39]

Doom WADs’ Roulette (2006): Phobia - The Age

Remember Phobia? That weird map that I reviewed back in June 2022? I mentioned back then that it was actually a demo for the WAD that was finally released in 2006 titled...

G7: Phobia – The Age

Main author(s): Kristian Käll (Kristus)

Release date: March 19th, 2006 (database upload)

Version played: ???

Required port compatibility: Doom Legacy

Levels: 8 (seven regular ones and a difficulty selection one)

That’s right, people. We are talking about this WAD again. Now with the subtitle The Age, Phobia is now made out of eight maps. And let me tell you now... This WAD is busted when you reach the first half of it. At least on GZDoom, which I thought would handle Phobia since it allows the Doom Legacy WADs to be played there, but I was wrong.

So here is the deal – this review will be based on playing this WAD until I reach the moment where I can’t go further unless I have to use the console command; in other words, up to MAP04. Also, I won’t be talking about Despair, because I already talked about it in the past and there isn’t really anything different from what I can remember.

Let’s see what happened that made me feel disappointed with the full version of Phobia.

One thing I am sure about Phobia is that it still looks great. The locations look at least as intriguing and scary as Despair was in 2001. There are even moments when you even explore a city in Nightmare Badlands.

At the beginning of every level asides from the first one, you see some text being spoken by someone who might be the protagonist of this WAD (voiced by Mike Lightner who helped with a couple of Cacowards ceremonies in the past).

The music was composed by Marc Pullen, whose body of work was the inspiration behind this WAD. And it wasn’t really my type to listen to. I can respect this WAD for being able to use a soundtrack with actual instruments playing, but on the other hand, I wasn’t really that fond of it when playing Phobia. I think I got so used to listening to MIDIs that I would rather have that version of the music tracks.

There isn’t really much to say about how you play this WAD. It’s basically like Despair from 2001 – you are looking for one thing to unlock the way to another thing and so on. It won’t force you into the brainstorming, but there might be a couple of moments where you will end up stuck for a while.

Like the original release, Phobia has three types of gameplay to choose from. But instead of choosing it from the menu, like in Chosen from 2004, you end up doing that on the first map (here titled Riviabolo).

And like with the original Phobia map, I played this WAD with all difficulty modes to see what they have to offer.

Chaos (previously Carnage) still lives up to its name by you fighting a shitton of enemies... while you mostly end up without ammo trying to kill all of them.

Myst is still the same as it was before, as in there are almost no enemies on the map and you have to run away from combat when it happens.

War (previously Assassin) is also the same as the others back in 2001. A harder variant of Chaos with fewer Imps and more high-tier monsters. Recommends infighting... and you will still end up without enough ammo/armory to fight monsters.

And now you might understand why this WAD was disappointing to me: it’s unbalanced in every degree. Without counting Myst, you won’t have enough ammo to fight most of the monsters. I wouldn’t be surprised if in War mode you would still end up underpowered if you made all enemies infight each other since there aren’t really enough monsters of the different type and/or they are too weak to have proper infighting.

And that’s only counting the first half of the WAD. Before doing the proper review, I played Phobia to see if it was as good as the 2001 version. I played on Myst of course (with a command console used to see what’s after MAP04), and maps Rise and Blood force you to kill the Cyberdemon variant to finish these maps without any weapons. For a mode that isn’t made completely for combat, it’s baffling how it forces you to do it without anything remotely effective to fight the toughest enemy of the Doom roster.

Speaking of Cyberdemons, asides from two monsters encountered in the original version (Pandora ghosts and lava imps), there is also another variant titled Lesser Cyberdemon, which is basically the same enemy but with lesser health.

As I mentioned near the beginning of this review, despite GZDoom having support for the Doom Legacy WADs, Phobia is busted on GZDoom. I already mentioned how you can’t pass MAP04 without using command console codes or IDCLEV cheat, but there is also the fact that you end up without any weapons while starting MAP04 when you aren’t Pistol-starting. Try beating this map on Chaos/War mode where there are no weapons at all sucker! There are a couple of other bugs after that but these are the most noticeable ones.

I have no idea what people saw in Phobia - The Age back in 2006. All difficulty modes feel like they weren’t tested and you can’t even get past MAP04 without cheating. I mean, I know it’s my fault for using GZDoom instead of Doom Legacy, but even if I used that source port and get past the fourth map, I think I would still have to deal with unbalanced, borderline unfair fights later on.

The only thing I can recommend from this WAD is Despair, the original map that started this mess. As for the rest of the WAD, my brother in Christ, play something else, I beg you!

...

sigh

At least I can see that the rest of the 2006 WAD roster isn’t even close to having that poor quality as this WAD.

I’ll see you next time.

Bye.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Honestly, I also have a special place for the moon boys in my heart, and recently, I read your alien reader with the moon boys and loved it, so two ideas, one NSFW and the other sfw. Basically, it's just for you to pick which one you're more comfortable with.

So, for the NSFW on what about how Steven started dating Alien reader(like the one you wrote before) and Steven started becoming more and more desperate for him, like dreaming things about him, thinking about him and reader doing those things, etc. One day, Marc helped Steven out and got the reader to full out his darkest desires. Maybe with a size kink and rope kink if you're comfortable.

Then, for the sfw one, steven and Alien have a stay at home movie date where they watch horror, and maybe Steven jumps easily, and since the reader is way bigger he holds Steven in his arms, particularly fully engulfed by the readers arms. It ends with the reader and Steven falling asleep on the couch or bed, of course with Steven in the readers' arms.

Again, you can pick whatever one your mode is comfortable with. If you even do this request. Thank you 😊

Moon boys (though mostly Steven) x alien male reader

Headcanons

Now, the planet you were from didn’t have entertainment like earth does, so movies, books or music was new for you. This means the moon boys get to introduce you to all their favorites.

Marc introduces you to his favorite movies, Jake shows you all his music, and Steven shows you his many books. Of course, there’s some interlapping, meaning you get a pretty big knowledge of media thanks to your lovers.

Marc seems like the one who watches horror movies, since Jake probably finds them boring, and Steven gets too jumpy.

So, when Steven wants to watch a horror movie with you, you don’t really understand why he would want too, since you know they scare him, but you go along with it anyway, since that’s what he wants.

Your species doesn’t have fear receptors like earthlings do, so you don’t get scared by movies or even during life or death fights, so horror movies is just easy entertainment for you.

You think maybe Steven wants to watch a horror movie to toughen himself up or appear braver than he is, maybe he wishes to push his own boundaries, so he becomes less scared.

But you soon find yourself with him in your arms, your big arms pretty much covering his entire body as he sits in your lap cuddled up against your chest.

You offer to turn the movie off, but Steven wants to keep watching it, so that’s what you two do, though you have to hold him pretty much the entire time. You have no idea that in their headspace, Marc and Jake are tsking since they didn’t come up with the idea of cuddling you during a scary movie first.

After the first horror movie, Steven brings up watching another one. At first you aren’t really sure if it’s a good idea, but Steven is hellbent on it.

So, a second movie is put on, one from Marcs collection of unknown horror flicks from all over the world, you know those really creepy Japanese ones for example.

Steven is of course more scared of the obscure horror movies, since they tend to be super nasty sometimes, but when he’s in your arms he feels a little less intimidated. He also really has to hold on, since he tends to switch with the other two when he gets too scared, but he wants to toughen himself up.

After the second movie, you can very much feel that Steven wouldn’t be able to take a third one, so even though he claims he can, you put on one of his comfort movies instead. You use your much bigger size to keep him from wiggling out of your arms to put on a scary movie, much to Steven pouting annoyance.

During his comfort movie Steven starts to doze off, and before you know it hes asleep, snoozing softly in your arms like you two hadn’t just sat through two horrifying horror movies.

You worry he might get nightmares from the movies, but it seems as long as hes in your arms, Steven doesn’t seem to show any inkling that hes got nightmares.

So, you end up settling down and just watching another movie or show as Steven sleeps, kissing the top of his head very now and then as he rests against you, wrapped in your arms.

[autmism]

why do you stay?

pairing(s) ; steven grant x fem!reader

warning(s) ; insecurity, hurt/comfort

synopsis ; donna says something to steven at work one day and it completely breaks his spirit, but y/n is always there to help steven. he just feels like he doesn’t deserve it this time.

-> masterlist

a/n ; i am still working on requests dw! i just really wanted to write this thing, sorry it’s been a while i’m currently in egypt visiting family :3

nothing was going right for steven that day, he’d woken up late, missed his bus twice, forgotten an umbrella at home, meaning he had to walk in the pouring rain. all odds were stacked against him that day. nothing was going right and it had gotten to him a bit more than he would have liked, but the one thing that really broke him was a stupid, snide comment from donna.

“i really do wonder how you get that girlfriend of yours to stay, if i was her, i would’ve been long gone by now.”

he knows that he shouldn’t let donna get to him, that she’s just a rotten woman that has nothing better to do with her time. but that comment really got to him, not even marc, or jake could cheer him up out of the mood he was in. by the time steven was walking through the front door of his flat, he had tuned both marc and jake out, wanting nothing more than to get into bed and get the awful day over with.

“steven, how was wo- … steven? hey, what’s wrong?” y/n frowned, looking up at her boyfriend’s face, his dampened mood was more than apparent, his furrowed brows was enough evidence of it. she reached up and cupped his cheeks with her hands as gently as she could.

steven sighed, placing his hands over y/n’s and pushing them down, “nothin’, love, just a bit tired.”

y/n frowned, holding onto steven’s hands, “would you like me to make us some tea? maybe you could get changed and you can read something to me?”

steven looked up from their intertwined hands to meet her eyes and he just nodded, feeling too dejected to even speak.

“alright love, i’ll be back,” y/n offered a small smile, which steven couldn’t help but return, although his was much more disingenuous. and y/n could see that. y/n had left him to go to the kitchen and he decided that changing out of his slightly damp clothes was probably a good idea, even if he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to get sick.

“steven, tea’s done if you want it still!” y/n called out from the living room, pulling steven’s attention from the wall he had been staring at for the last five minutes. he let out another sigh and made his way to where y/n would be sitting, his thoughts all jumbled up like a puzzle, yet this time it wasn’t a puzzle that steven was able to solve.

“made your favourite,” y/n smiled as steven sat next to her on the sofa.

“thank you, love,” steven flashed a weak smile.

“i don’t want to bother you.. or y’know, poke my nose where it shouldn’t be, but if something happened, you can talk to me… only if you want to of course, but i’m here for you steven.”

steven took a sip of his tea and hid his face behind the mug, too afraid to admit what donna had said just in case donna was right all along.

“steven. talk to her.”

“shut it already, marc.” steven muttered, rolling his eyes.

“steven… talk to me,” y/n placed a hand on his knee, rubbing it slightly to try comfort him. steven placed his mug down on the coffee table, silently debating whether or not he should open up to y/n about what donna had said.

“was it donna again?” y/n asked softly, steven nodded in response.

“oh baby, i’m sorry,” y/n sighed.

“why do you stay?” steven blurted out, “with me, i mean…”

y/n blinked at him, processing his words, “what?”

“people see us, they think how’d a bloke like him end up with someone as great as her! or-or they see how great you are and how i’m not good enough for you!” the dam had finally broken, he let the tears run down his face and he finally started to open up about what was bothering him.

“steven-“

“why are you with me? love, you could have anyone you ever wanted, i mean it! you could be with someone that people won’t say they’re not good enough for you…”

“steven, i don’t want anyone else, i want you, i don’t care what people think, i think you’re good enough for me, i know you’re good enough for me, doesn’t matter what nasty old donna thinks, i want you,” y/n held onto steven’s hands that were slightly shaking from anxiety, “no one will ever be as good to me as you are, steven, i could never want anyone but you.”

“now i just feel a bit silly,” steven chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“you’re not silly, you’re allowed to be upset about things, but nothing anyone says will ever change how i feel about you, steven, i need you to understand that, okay?” y/n smiled at him.

“i wouldn’t be mad.. you know, if.. if you wanted to be.. um, with someone else,” steven gulped trying to keep the tears at bay.

“steven, there is no one else in the world i could want other than you, you make me so happy, my sweet, sweet boy,” y/n cupped his cheeks with her hands, pulling him closer to her, “you are the reason i get up in the morning and the reason i can’t sleep, i want to spend every hour with you that when i need to sleep i can’t, because i don’t want to miss any time i can spend with you, you make my life so much better, i couldn’t possibly look at anyone else when the love of my life is right here in front of me.”

steven stared at y/n with lovestruck eyes, tears pouring down the side of his cheeks as he held onto y/n’s hands that held his face. her words had truly touched him, he often found himself in spirals of self doubt and low self esteem, but she had just hit every insecurity out of his mind.

“i’m so in love with you..” steven whispered.

“i’d hope so steven, we’re kind of dating,” y/n chuckled, trying to lighten his mood.

“so, so, so in love with you.”

y/n leaned towards him and pressed her lips against his, pouring every ounce of love that she had to him into the kiss, words that remained unspoken were heard loud and clear. steven moved a hand from one of hers and reached it behind her head, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

“you’re it for me,” y/n spoke barely above a whisper, these were words only for steven.

“thank you, love.” steven smiled, everything was going to be okay, y/n was here and nothing could change that.

“you don’t need to thank me for loving you, steven.” y/n smiled back and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“think you might’ve missed that one.” steven laughed.

“oh did i now?”

“yeah, think you did, love, my lips are over here all by their lonesome, oh woe is me….” steven dramatically clutched his heart.

“well, we can’t have that can we?”

“no, no we can’t, but y’know i got the perfect solution, i do.”

“do you?” y/n smiled, knowing what he was getting at.

“oh it’s just… oh, let me just show you, bit hard to explain.” steven pressed his lips to y/n’s and slid his hands down her body, landing wrapped around her waist.

“mmh, i like this solution.”

“less talking, more kissing.”

[multifanlol]

hello! can u do a romantic darcy x reader but marcy had a crush on the reader before her possession? ty!

Hey! And thanks for the request I love Marcy and Darcy-

“So-“

“….”

“Don’t you think King Andries is a total clown sometimes-“

“I don’t care”

“Jeez you don’t have to be so rude darling-“

“Shut up Darcy!”

“Aww, you said my name this time”

“Uggg”

The teen groaned while the host referred to as “Darcy” who tookover the teens best friends body continue to annoy them, ever since they were captured by the robots King Andrias sent they were originally just sent to the dungeon with “Darcy” coming every now and then to pratically torment them about how they can’t leave.

But later on “Darcy” began to visit more frequently and frequently and even let you have a “spare room” which was just Marcys room when she lived there although you didn’t mind, you were confused though, I mean Darcy imprisoned you sure you might of felt something towards them sometimes…..but that’s only because you have some hope Marcy’s in there…..is what you tell yourself

In truth Darcy began to have taken a liking to you, at first Darcy thought it was just Marcy’s feelings towards you for some reason affecting her, but the more Darcy began to visit you intending to annoy you, Darcy began to feel some strong emotions…..no they weren’t hate nor disgust…..they were weirdly positive, she tried to focus her mind off other stuff but they felt insanely strong and annoying…..therefore after all this thinking she’s trying to win you over

“You know…..”

You groaned banging your head in frustration

“What now….”

“Marcy took a liking to you….now i can see why”

You could already sense Darcy’s smirk but that didn’t bother you as you nearly choked on air which caused Darcy to laugh hysterically

“Just shut up i know your…..your lying!”

“Heh….Please sweetie your embarrassing yourself…!”

She said wiping a fake tear from her eyes laughing at how flustered you were as you clearly liked your best friend

“Y-You don’t know what your talking about, your just trying to mess with me and i can see it, just leave me alone….”

Darcy then turned into a fit of giggling

“Please I’ve told you a million times dear, Marcy’s in here, i can tell she liked you…..and it’s clearly mutual”

You puffed your cheeks and tried to control them by glaring at her which made it look worser which caused the psycho maniac to laugh even harder

“You know since Marcy clearly isn’t coming back, you know I’m basically her-“

“Your not Marcy, Darcy”

“I know you’ll change your mind some day!~”

“….”

“You know we could try to get along at least-“

“You imprisoned me”

“It’s all a bad days work, really would you rather fight for that earth planet?-“

“Yeah, i would! My family and friends are there!”

“…..”

“Well would rescuing them and destroying the rest of the humans make you better-“

“I “appreciate” the offer but there’s others that live there too that while i don’t know them, there are good people that live there-“

“Fine fine jeez….you don’t have to get all hero and mighty n/n!”

You stopped at what she just said the nickname fluttered your heart always because a specific clumsy nerd usually called you that

Few months before Amphibia…..

“Hey n/n!”

“Hey Mar mar!”

“Wanna go to the store to help me look for a gift for Anne, we can also go to that game store and get that game you wanted-“

“Sure Marc, what’s wrong?”

“My parents said they need me home….I’m sure it’s nothing I’ll catch up with you later!”

“It’s fine, I’ll start looking”

Why did she have a bad feeling about this

You ended up meeting up with Anne and Sasha and ended up getting a text from Marcy that she found a gift for Anne

“Why didn’t she tell me….”

I mean you weren’t upset just confused as it felt odd she could of told you whatever it was with her parents was done but it isn’t a big deal

When you met up with Marcy you noticed a different vibe she gave off…..like she was hiding something, you tried not to think much of it as you thought you were maybe being paranoid

“So you got this box…?”

“Trust me Sash, it probably looks cooler on the inside!”

“Maybe Anne should open it since it’s her birthday”

“Alright i will”

As Anne was about to open you felt uneasy especially looking at how overly nervous or excited Marcy looked you couldn’t really read it like you normally could

Yeah it definitely has something to do with her parent-

And just like that a magical portal pushed you all into it

You screamed from the fall and looked around which appeared to be in the middle of a road

“Huh-“

You screamed at all the random huge creatures that nearly hit you with other creatures riding them

End of flashback (Yes I’m aware the other bits were unnecessary-)

You sighed remembering that night where Sasha betrayed you all, and especially King Andrias outing Marcy about getting you all stranded in Amphibia especially when revealed about her parents moving and which stopped Darcy’s laughing as they stared at you sighing

“Aw you can’t seriously be upset at my teasing-“

When you were still staring at the ground glumly it made her feel those strong emotions again…..ugh

Instead they were more of sympathy towards you she really didn’t know how to process that, whenever you were sad like this which was rare she’d usually tease with her “wonderful” flirting and you’d stop here it felt more personal…..they were bad at this

You ended up feeling an awkward arm around your shoulder

“Hey, wipe that annoying frown off your face it’s almost as annoying as King Andrias being gloomy all the time….”

“….”

Darcy then awkwardly moves her arm attempting to think of something else

“Why do you think Marcy went behind me and the girls backs at this crazy plan”

It felt weird telling Darcy this especially since Darcy was technically Marcy but you knew with how much they said it themselves Marcy was in there but at the moment it was technically not your Marcy talking

“What….”

“I just wanna know why she did, if she’s still in there what do you think….”

Darcy shifted awkwardly in a different position she didn’t really know what to do….although you being upset made them feel a certain thing that irritated them, not in the way you’d think though….

“Well, maybe Marcy thought you wouldn’t understand her-“

“Really?”

They felt like they spoke too soon until they noticed you actually considering it

“I mean, maybe she just cared about you or some stupid Marcy thing like that…so she didn’t wanna lose you”

“I mean, it’d make sense but being in this world just feels too much…”

“….I mean while I’m not Marcy in the way you’d want i know she’d probably apologise right now or something stupid like that-“

Darcy stopped when all of a sudden they felt two arms wrap around them which quickly stopped

She didn’t know what it was and couldn’t tell whether she liked it or not

“That didn’t happen”

“Yeah-“

I guess in the end of the day whoever imprisons you, go for it 😍/j

And yeah that’s it sorry it’s short i didn’t have much ideas for this

[babyboibucky]

La Douleur Exquise

Pairing: Steven Grant x Fem!Reader (with mentions of Marc)

Summary: The exquisite, heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: ANGST, unrequited love, some soft smut

A/N: This is the angsty Steven Grant idea I got from this GIF lmfao

MAIN MASTERLIST

For the first time in a long time, you basked in the serenity of the night. Having fought alongside Marc and Steven for months on end made it close to impossible to experience peace.

Now that everything’s ended, you were left to your own thoughts. The silence made it easier for you to realize that you had nowhere to go.

You sat on the floor, your back against the foot of the bed with empty bottles of beer around you. Sighing, you took another swig from the bottle in your hand.

There was a soft creak coming from the doorway— it almost sounded hesitant with how there was a brief pause before you heard the next creak.

Steven.

You smiled to yourself as you waited for Steven to make himself known. Even after getting used to his (or Marc’s) skills, he still had his own quirks that you found amusing. One of which was lack of stealth, apparently.

“If I was a bad guy and you didn’t have your suit on, you’d be dead the moment you stepped in.” You said out loud.

“Marc would’ve taken over before I could even make a sound.” He said as he approached you.

You looked up at him, “That’s actually true.” You laughed before staring out of the window across the bed.

There were barely any stars in the sky, just the full moon in all its luminous glory. How appropriate, you thought as you watched Steven walk over to the windowsill to look at it.

“Beautiful, innit?” He asked, glancing at you.

You nodded silently even though Steven couldn’t see. There was a few seconds of silence before you spoke up, words slurring a bit from the amount of alcohol you’d consumed.

“What would you do if you badly wanted something, but couldn’t have it no matter what?” You asked.

Steven turned around with a confused look on his face, “Do you mind elaborating?” He asked, turning around to face you.

You shrugged, “Let’s say you want a job so bad, like it’s the only job you want. But someone else got it. Or you want a certain food, badly want it and yet you’re allergic to it. You can’t have it.”

Steven made a face, “Wouldn’t there be other options for you to try? Perhaps a different job? A different dish. There are a lot of choices.” He said.

You groaned, sitting up straight, “What if you don’t want anything else? You want it so bad that the other options don’t seem to exist!” You explained.

“But they do exist; why limit yourself to one choice when there’s a lot you can try? You wouldn’t know what a different job would be like unless you give it a try. Maybe you thought that lobsters are the best when steak exists.” Steven pointed out.

You deadpanned, “Steven, you’re vegan. You don’t even know what meat tastes like.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve tried it once.” He defended.

You snorted, “And did you like it?” You asked, drinking from your beer again.

Steven shook his head, “At least I gave it a try.” He said and you ended up nodding, accepting defeat.

“What made you ask?” Steven questioned with genuine curiosity.

You hummed, rubbing your face with your hand, “Guess I’m the only one who feels this way.” You said, leaving Steven even more confused.

He seemed to feel how your mood darkened and cleared his throat, “I wasn’t much of a help, was I?” He asked, “Should I get Marc to help you out?”

Your eyes widened, “God, no. He wouldn’t understand, it’s just…” you let out another sigh.

“I’m sorry, I’m just conflicted about something.” You said.

Again, silence.

“You can tell me everything. I’m a good listener, at least, I think I am.” Steven offered, carefully sitting down on the floor next to you.

You offered him a bottle of beer, “I think you are, Steven.” You smiled.

You opened up to Steven about how you felt now that the mission was over, at least for you. You weren’t an avatar of an Egyptian deity nor were you a superhero of some sort. The only reason why you ended up on this mission was because of a connection you had with another avatar.

Now that you’ve done your part, it was time to move on with your life.

“I don’t think there’s something out there for me, y’know? I was a nobody before, became somebody when you and Marc came along and now, well, guess I’m back to being a nobody.” You chuckled bitterly.

“And everything I want in life just isn’t meant for me.” You added sadly.

“I think you’re great, amazing even.” Steven complimented, smiling at you.

You frowned, “Stop flattering me.” You said with a mirthless laugh.

“You are amazing and beautiful and I think that you can have anything or anyone that you want.” He said.

Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed the way Steven was gazing at you. He always had such expressive eyes, they always gave him away— his emotions, his truth.

“You’re the first person who told me I’m beautiful.” You admitted with a shy smile.

Steven’s eyes softened, “They’re blind, then. I hope you can see yourself the way I see you.” He admitted bashfully.

Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, you tried to lighten the mood with a soft chuckle.

“You’ve got a way with words—“

“I like you.”

Your head snapped towards Steven, “What?” You asked.

Steven licked his lips and avoided your gaze. He looked out the window instead as he fiddled with the bottle of beer in his hand.

“I might even be in love with you. You’re strong and passionate, you take good care of us. You were there for Marc and helped him out with Layla. You were there for me when I thought I was a bloody burden. It’s hard not to fall in love with you.” Steven confessed, turning to look at you again.

Steven’s confession made your head spin and the way his eyes stared deeply into yours made you feel things you never thought you’d feel. The alcohol in your system heightened your emotions— you could hear your heartbeat and you could feel every pump of blood.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“Say it again.” You said, your tone having a tinge of desperation.

Steven furrowed his eyebrows, “Say what again?”

“That you like me. That you’re in love with me.” You begged.

You stared at Steven’s face and watched his eyes take all of your features in. He was looking at you like you were the prettiest constellation in the night sky— and he’d seen a lot of them.

Steven seemed to hesitate but maybe it was the way your hand reached for his that encouraged him to repeat those words.

“I’m in love with you.”

The end of his confession was sealed with a kiss. He gasped into your mouth as soon as your lips touched his, but he was quick to melt into it.

He had the softest grip when he placed a hand on the side of your neck, as if he was holding something so vulnerable, so fragile.

And in that moment you were.

Steven held your waist and pulled you to straddle him as he continued to kiss you. His fingers drummed against your sides before slowly sliding inside your shirt to get a feel of your bare skin.

You sighed against his lips before straightening up, taking his face in between your palms to take a good look at him.

“Everything alright, love?” Steven asked in a whisper when you took your time staring at his face.

Offering a small smile, you nodded before leaning in for another kiss. Steven gripped your waist tightly as he stood up, hoisting you and bringing you to the bed.

He undressed you gently; he took his time lifting your shirt up and unbuttoning your pants. Steven revelled at the sight of you in nothing but your underwear, even in the dark, he could see every little detail on your body.

You didn’t say a word when you returned the favor and removed Steven’s clothes. Everything was done slowly, as if the both of you had all the time in the world.

Steven kissed you as he pushed you down on the bed, his hands exploring your body and finding the areas that made you gasp and whisper against his lips.

You tangled your fingers into Steven’s hair when he slipped his hand into your underwear, rubbing your already drenched folds ever so slowly.

“You feel so soft.” Steven whispered as he nosed your neck, placing a soft kiss on your skin before slipping a finger inside of your sopping cunt.

Your back arched, breasts pressing against Steven’s chest. Keeping your eyes closed and mouth parted, you let yourself focus on the pleasure from his fingers.

The more you arched against Steven, the more you could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. You didn’t need to say anything for Steven to know that you were ready for him, your whimpers and moans were enough for him to know.

Steven pressed his forehead against yours as he pulled your underwear down. You opened your eyes and found him gazing at you, his pupils were just as dilated as yours.

“You’ve the most beautiful eyes,” Steven whispered, “They’re the prettiest stars I’ve seen.”

With one swift motion, Steven slid his cock into your warmth. He grunted at your tightness and clenched his jaw, keeping his breathing slow and steady as he let you adjust to his girth.

You held onto his shoulders and panted against his neck, swallowing hard before lifting your hips to fully sheathed him in.

Steven started moving at a steady pace with his eyes fixed on yours. It was slow and gentle, far from your previous experiences which were always hurried and rough.

It was a nice change though. The way Steven treated your body was overwhelming, he focused on your pleasure alone.

“Faster, please…” you whined when your abdomen started tightening.

Steven kissed your lips before nodding, complying to request and speeding up his thrusts. You could feel every drag of his cock against your walls, the tip finally finding your sweet spot when he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist.

Your moans grew louder and so did Steven’s grunts. The bed started to creak the same time your toes began to curl.

“Tell me you love me.” You whimpered, cradling Steven’s face in your hands.

Steven let out a few grunts before bending down to kiss you, “I love you.” He said.

You clenched around Steven and came with a breathy moan, thighs quaking around his waist helping him reach his own climax.

Steven thrusted a few more times before pulling out of you, pressing a kiss on your shoulder before laying on his back.

You turned on your side and observed Steven as he caught his breath. His hair was even messier, his curls sticking against his sweaty forehead. Beneath the moonlight spilling into the room, you could see the bruises and gashes on Steven’s face— those were Marc’s actually, you tended to them last night.

While Steven was recovering, you reached for the bruise that was blossoming on his temple and slowly traced it with your finger.

Steven turned to you, a large smile on his face, “Hi.”

You caressed his bruise with your thumb, “Hi.”

-

What used to be the moonlight illuminating the room turned brighter and stronger. You blinked your eyes open and were quickly greeted by the blinding sunlight. You lifted your hand to cover your eyes as you sat up.

You winced at the way your head throbbed when you moved. You’d drank too much last night but you weren’t drunk enough to forget what occurred.

Steven was still fast asleep beside you with the sheets wrapped around his waist. Your chest tightened and your palms began to sweat, what were you supposed to do now?

Carefully, you got up and collected your clothes around the room and started dressing up as fast as you could. The floor creaked and the blankets shuffled, Steven woke up and yawned.

He rubbed his face as he sat up, looking around the room before his eyes finally landed on you standing by the bed, fully clothed.

“What’s got you in a rush, love?” He asked, yawning again.

Your throat dried up and even when you opened your mouth to say something, no word came out. You tried finding the right words but couldn’t do so, you couldn’t even look Steven in the eye.

The lack of response and sullen atmosphere helped Steven realize what was possibly going on. He called your name but you refused to look at him.

Steven sighed, “Would you please look at me?” He asked softly.

You tucked your hair behind your ear and finally met his gaze. His eyes looked you up and down before he pursed his lips.

“You regret last night, don’t you?” He asked, but his tone suggested that it was rhetoric and didn’t need a response.

You looked down, “I’m sorry, Steven.” You said, almost in a whisper, “I can’t do this.”

You quickly grabbed your jacket and turned to leave until Steven called your name once more, but this time, with a louder and firmer tone.

“It’s Marc, isn’t it?” He asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly replied, keeping your back to Steven.

“You were talking about Marc last night.” Steven said, almost incredulously— disbelief.

When you turned around, you were utterly heartbroken at how Steven was looking at you. You could literally see the realization flash in his eyes when the truth dawned on him.

Steven covered his face with his hand as he shook his head, “You’ve been in love with Marc all this time. You want him but you can’t have him because of Layla.” He accused you.

You tightened your grip on your jacket as you watched Steven put on his clothes. He started pacing back and forth, as if he was trying to put the pieces together.

“Steven, I’m sorry.” You whispered, blinking your tears away.

Steven snickered, “You’re not sorry because you regretted last night, you’re sorry because you used me to fool yourself into thinking that Marc loves you!” He angrily said.

Steven will never be Marc, you knew that. You also knew that there was no chance for Marc to love you. So when Steven confessed, it was hard not to wish that it was Marc instead. You were drunk, but you also knew what you were doing.

You knew it would hurt Steven and yet you allowed yourself to use his feelings to sate your desperation.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” You cried.

Steven chuckled bitterly, “That’s a bunch of bollocks! You meant it and I was stupid enough to think that I had a chance with you!”

Steven’s eyes were bloodshot from how hard he was holding back his tears. It absolutely wrecked you seeing him like that— full of anguish and in complete pain. All the softness in him, the love and care he showed you the previous night? Gone.

The Steven you knew was gone, and it was all because of you and your desperation for someone you never even had a chance with from the very beginning.

“You used me.” Steven repeated, his voice breaking.

You hugged yourself, “I’m…I’m so sorry…” it was all that you could say, you didn’t have an excuse for what you did.

Steven composed himself and let out a shaky breath, “You are a cruel person. You’re cruel and selfish.” He said and pointed at you.

“I love you and you took advantage of that.” He said with a nod before sniffing.

You looked at him, there was nothing but pain in Steven’s eyes. There was so much pain in them that you could feel it too. You could almost hear his heart break into pieces.

Steven shook his head, as if he was still in utter disbelief. He headed to the door and was about to turn the knob when he looked back at you.

“Now I know what it feels like.” He said.

You stared at him in confusion, your arms still wrapped around yourself in a pathetic attempt to find some sort of comfort.

“To badly want someone you’ll never have.”

[electricbluebutterflies]

an abrupt kiss that you melt into after a moment of hesitation with marc/layla please <3

Post-series, PG-ish, also on ao3. It's been a hot moment since I've written these babes (honestly Layla has her shit together far more than I have lately) and I missed them.

It’s different, after.

They are always adjusting, Layla thinks, always becoming something new. She’d be bored with quiet, so why should her marriage be any different? But this sense of temporary closure, of an ending she cannot fully believe is an ending but at least it’s a break from spending too much of her mental energy wanting to kill a god, is…

It’s different, and she’s not entirely sure the latest change of circumstances is actually an improvement.

Too much of her life put into this love, she justifies, and too much offered in return. A different apartment but at least a familiar city, and she works more and the guys work less and… the part where she now technically has multiple partners is not the problem, let her make that abundantly clear, it’s just an adjustment period at worst. Both of them are good people and both of them adore her, and beyond that Layla is willing to put up with more than she suspects most women would, and-

If there is one downside to this current era of her life, it is that the physical side has come to a very screeching halt.

Her expectations have always been fairly low – more time apart than together does that to a relationship, and all she’s ever asked was to be warned if there were other lovers and as far as she knows there never were and… fine, Marc has apparently developed a real capacity for lying to her about things he shouldn’t, but she still trusts that boundary. There is no doubt in her mind that if either of the guys decided to get all over someone else, for whatever reason, she would find out. Just as they have found out, within a reasonable time frame, about the couple of time she’s had to kiss different people to get her further with a job over the past few months. Even though that doesn’t even count as dishonoring her marriage as far as she’s concerned. Even though-

Distance is one thing. A functionally dead bedroom when she’s home is another.

It takes two bodies to end up in that state, and she knows she’s not helping but it doesn’t seem right to initiate anything when she’s not sure what’s okay anymore. Being tactile is one thing – the guys still want to hold her and play with her hair and do all the innocent things, and if she’s patient that could become enough. Anything explicitly intimate, on the other hand…

She comes back home after one of those jobs, the kind she thought would take a week but no try three and multiple near-death experiences mixed in there and the hippo goddess in the background of her mind wanted to fight a few people for other reasons and Layla is trying her hardest to keep some boundaries there too, and she’s half tempted to try to melt into the couch and show off her lack of new scars later but instead-

Hands on her face, familiar mouth on hers, and for a moment she is in perfect shock, for a moment she has to actually think about which of them is kissing her. Same body but different physicality, she reminds herself, and she knows this, knows one of the options very well and-

She melts. It has been multiple months since her husband has tried to make out with her, and she can yell at him afterwards – yell at both of them, probably – and she melts. Hands drift up in her hair with the right caution and she’s done all of this so many times but not recently, and she wants to be more pissed off about that than she actually is right now, and-

“Don’t do that to me,” she breathes when they part for air. “Don’t… don’t make me want you any more than I already do, it’s bad enough-“

“That was okay?”

Layla laughs, full-body overwhelmed by how ridiculous her life is sometimes. “You have to ask?! Do you have any idea how much I-“

“I wasn’t sure if-“

Isn’t it just like them, she thinks, to overestimate each other’s boundaries and end up in a state of minor disaster. “I… I wasn’t sure what was okay. What’s going on in your head anymore and-“

He kisses her again and it’s enough to remind her that no matter how many questionable choices he makes that wreak havoc on her life, at least there’s always good intent. Always that near-absolute love justifying whatever way he’s trying to protect her, always-

“That was okay,” Marc repeats, this time not a question.

“That was a lot more than okay.”

They’ll adjust. They always do. Until then…

“Is this okay too?” he asks, fingertips on the top button of her jacket.

She can never stay mad at him for too long. No matter how deserved. Not when the aftermath of her frustrations is normally this good.

“Keep going and I’ll tell you when to stop.”

She doesn’t.

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 18 - Come Here

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x Female!OC

Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn’t help but notice how familiar he was.

⚠️ 18+!! | 3.8k Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic/Angst/Smut | AU/AT |

Warnings: Heavy language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma, mention of alcohol, smoking, death mention, unhealthy coping mechanisms, SOMEHOW there's fluff at the end. **I won’t be exhaustive with the smut warnings. Unprotected p in v in a car (we classy) Safe travels!***

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter list

"Why can't you tell that I'm desperate? Doesn't it show in my smile? Why can't you tell that I'm bad for ya? It doesn't show in your eyes" -"Come Here" by Dominic Fike

  This day is wrong. Simone thought to herself. Everything felt off about what started as a seemingly ordinary Wednesday. It began with her coffee being weaker than usual even though she used the same three scoops of Café Bustelo as always, then her patient Corey didn't show or call, which was unlike him. 

Another unrelated but monumental occurrence that fucked up her day was the dream she had the night before. Of course, it had to be about Marc, and of course, she woke up a blubbering wreck. It was a perfect projection of what she imagined would happen if that stupid moon god kept him on his leash: 

They'd fish him out of the Illinois River.

The final wrench in her day was when she called to check in on Laura, and Maxine told her that she was pronounced brain dead. After that, it was hard to get through her already shortened workday. 

Simone stood outside of her office building with a lit cigarette in hand, reflecting on and regretting the outfit she chose to wear that morning. It was as business casual as usual: a brown leather high-waisted skirt that came right above her knees, a pumpkin orange ribbed sweater, and a long brown blazer to match the skirt. It was cute and functional, but the chilly breeze cut through her bare legs. 

She took a deep drag from the smoke and let the warmth fill her before another gust hit and reminded her to go to her car. She was done for the day and didn't need to stand outside. Before she took off to the parking lot, her phone buzzed and took her attention away. 

Unknown number: Need a ride?

She stared confused at the text for a moment, having a "the call is coming from inside the house" moment when it buzzed again, and another bubble appeared under it. 

Unknown number: On your right, Chi-town.

She turned her attention to the described direction and saw the taxi, and, as expected by the nickname used in the message, Jake was sitting in front of the wheel. 

For a moment, the unknown number perplexed her, but with the kind of connections Spector has, and the fact that he used to use the name Jake Lockley, it would be no surprise that the man has his own phone along with a job and identity. 

She didn't need a ride but didn't mind the company he offered. She flicked her cigarette away and started in that direction.

As Simone approached his taxi, Jake eyed her up and down, thinking of how breathtaking the gal looked in a skirt. 

Calves like that? She'd be a damn Amazonian if she was taller. He thought to himself. 

She got into his back seat customarily and wasted no time asking about his presence. 

"You stalkin' me now?" She asked, not holding back her accent in the slightest. Jake turned his body around to face her, 

"What gave ya that idea?" 

"You're outside my work." 

"Doll, I got eyes and ears everywhere. Ya weren't that hard to find." He explained. Simone let out a soft snort at the idea, unsure of what he meant by that. "So, where ya wanna go?" 

"Who said I even needed a ride?"

"You're in my back seat, ain't ya?" 

After the day Simone had, she felt like the taximan showing up unexpectedly was the universe trying to make up for it, offering her the option to go get some grog. 

"Take me to The Waltz, then." She requested with a shrug. 

"Ah, where we first met, how cute." Jake laughed as he started driving in that direction. The Waltz was the bar where he picked her up from the night she showed up and turned his whole world upside down. Thinking about how so much had changed since then made him crave a shot. "Can I buy you a drink when we get there?" 

"Aren't you working?"

"Hardly. Rideshare caused a slow business." 

The thought lingered on her mind, knowing it wouldn't be good for her to spend her night drinking alone. She also wasn't sure if she wanted this to go much further. Not yet, anyway. She chose to propose a test.

"Only if you can guess what I drink. Top three." Simone told him, crossing her arms.

No way he'll get all three. 

Jake didn't shy from the challenge and thought of everything he knew about the woman so far:

She's hot, educated, complex, and got bags under her eyes. He thought before providing his answer. "Straight whiskey, chilled tequila, and a good glass of wine. None of that fruity shit. I'm a rum guy, myself." 

The accuracy shook Simone's core, not catching how attentive he was before. Either that, or he used his eyes and ears as he said. "How did you get it spot-fuckin'-on?" 

"Ain't a schmuck alive who can hide a thing from me. You strike me as a sophisticated yet well-oiled machine." He explained. "Classy, but look like you ain't had a decent night's sleep in a few months. You also smoke, drink, and deal with headcases daily." 

Also look like you could do better things with that mouth, but I'll keep that to myself. 

Again, everything Jake said was true.

His next trick will probably be knowing exactly where to kiss on my neck or some shit. Simone thought to herself before brushing the idea away, feeling the image creep up on her. "Do you observe all the ladies you drive around this closely?" 

"Only when they've tied me to a chair. Believe it or not, 'doesn't happen very often." He joked. "Also, no signs of your boys spying on me through mirrors." 

The confirmation alone that Marc wouldn't lurk on them caused Simone to bite her lip involuntarily. "Lucky for me, then." She said, unprompted. Jake caught that gesture and how her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. 

I wonder if that's an invitation. He thought.

Simone couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that was pushing her over the edge. Every time Jake's grip would adjust on the wheel, it got harder to breathe. The air in the cab grew thicker with each glance he stole from the rearview mirror. 

It became increasingly difficult to swallow as her thoughts drifted from the whiskey she wanted to the weakness in her legs. How Jake sat leaned slightly back as he drove, relaxed but in complete control, radiating big dick energy, and rightfully so in her experience. 

Is this lust or anxiety? Probably both. She thought to herself as she felt a bit of moisture gather in her underarms.

Jake caught her gaze in the mirror and stayed there,

Shit, those eyes could kill me right here. He thought. The Waltz was coming up on their right, and a stronger man than him would have just made the turn, but Jake kept driving straight. 

"Whoops," He said with a hit of sarcasm. "Missed your turn." 

Simone knew he did it on purpose. She knew his game and judging by his willingness to play, he knew hers. Self-control was gone at that moment, and she could have asked him to just take her back to her place instead and left it be, but-

His hands, mouth, face, and body. Just not the man I'm pissed off at right now. 

"That's fine," She started, unbuckling her seatbelt and scooting to the middle of the spacious back seat. She brought up her left foot first and propped it on the back of the passenger seat. "You're welcome to keep driving." She finished, following it up with her other foot resting on the back of the driver's seat. A fire was ignited in her belly, and all she could think of at that moment was-

Let's see how different he really is. 

Jake tilted the rearview mirror down slightly, giving him a direct line of sight to the inside of her leather skirt and the perfect view of her painfully sheer black underwear. He brought his left finger up to the meter and turned it off without a second thought,

"I know a spot." He informed before thoughtfully reaching the same hand back and caressing her thigh the best he could. The pads of his fingers danced along the soft, delicate skin, admiring every mark and groove that had the privilege of residing on such a magnetic surface. Jake considered himself a man of culture and deeply appreciated thighs. 

Simone rolled her head on her shoulders, alleviating the stiffness in her neck that came with the situation's intensity. The cold, calloused hands she knew so well ran up and down her inner leg and teased goosebumps across her hot skin as she watched the other command the car's wheel. 

"Hope I don't make a mess of your seats." She expressed, ticking the corner of her mouth upward. There was something devious and filthy but intoxicating about this feeling she had. It was deliciously rebellious and self-destructive. 

Her mind flashed back to how upset Marc was with the idea of Jake being into her, and a part of her brain tried to make her care. The only problem was: she didn't care as much as she thought she needed to. That body in the driver's seat was irresistible to her every time. 

Jake eyed her in the mirror again, admiring the display that he feared would be a mirage if he looked away for too long. "For you, Hermosa, I'll clean this taxi myself, top to bottom." He told her. 

They continued to eye-fuck each other until the car came to a stop behind an old brick building that seemingly served no purpose anymore. It occurred to them both that they could have taken this to either of their apartments, but it seemed needless to say aloud. When the cab was parked, Jake flicked his hat off into the passenger seat, wasting no time getting out of the car and reentering to join Simone in the back. 

They kissed each other hastily and without yield like they were on a mission to close as much space between them as possible, clawing at the fabric on each other's bodies and searching for something to hold onto in the back of this taxi, stealing each other's breath. 

Simone lapped up his essence like the sweetest candy, trailing her tongue through every corner of his mouth, just as she had done many times before. They were sitting facing each other in this seat, almost awkwardly, seeming to coax each other into making a move. 

Instinctually, Simone took hold of his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled away, only letting it spring back once she could see his eyes. There was a small dribble of blood left where her teeth bit, but he didn't feel any pain in the gesture. It only drove him crazier.

Jake shifted and nearly yanked Simone into his lap, strategically riding up her skirt as her legs split wide over his thighs. The heavy making out and panting continued as she vigorously rutted her pulsating core against his hardening bulge, spilling soft moans onto his tongue. 

He gripped her ass and pushed her down more forcefully onto him as he buried his face into her neck, kissing and biting between growling filthy words in Spanish. Simone ground her clit roughly into him, feeling herself crumble with every comment. 

"That's it, doll. Tell me what you want." He whispered, bringing the language back to English. She got her hands to the sides of his face and stopped her hip movement, directing all his concentration to her eyes as she spoke.

"Dentro de mí." Simone told him, followed by her flicking the tip of her tongue on his lips, which only furthered Jake's need for her. If his dick wasn't so agonizingly hard, he could have sat and stared at her, smiling at him for as long as she allowed. He nearly did just that until she pushed her pelvis closer, reminding him why she was in his lap. 

When Simone felt Jake's hands move between their bodies, she pushed herself back slightly to give him space. She wasn't thinking about any of this or considering the repercussions or fathoming her own movements. She was on autopilot. 

The sound of a zipper and a slight shuffle of denim later, Jake nestled his palm to the small of Simone's back and used his other hand to maneuver her damp panties aside. Nobody removed their clothes. There was no time or space to think about those things. 

Jake pulled Simone back into his body as she positioned her entrance at his head, and without a hint of hesitation, he pushed his hips upward with enough force to cause a sharp sting in her abdomen. He hissed air through his teeth as he entered her cunt. He needed to feel her, and she felt fucking spectacular. 

The impact of his pelvis becoming flush with her made a loud smack and caused Simone to bellow out a harsh groan and throw her head forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaving balmy breaths over his skin.

"You good?" He asked, brushing her hair away from the side of her face to gauge her expression. "Don't wanna break ya." She was flushed and slack-jawed, clearly stunned from the blow. She answered with a nod and jerk of her hips, 

"I'm not porcelain." She choked out. Jake loved that answer.

Simone set the pace by rolling her hips, and though Jake was more than happy to let her do her thing, he wanted to go deeper than she could achieve on her own. He pushed upward each time she rocked downward, causing more needy, desperate, guttural moans. To keep herself centered, she pressed her chest close to his, gripping the back of his leather bomber tighter with each pound.

She didn't seem out of place in the position, knowing her way around his body, having been here dozens of times and still feeling fucking fantastic every time. It made sense to her. It was familiar to her but different enough to feel new as she stared through half-closed eyes out of the rear window of the taxi, inebriated by how her pussy throbbed around him, and he whispers-

"You take it so fuckin' well, doll."

Jake could tell she was close to unraveling on top of him, but he knew he was much closer, and the feeling of her tightening and the whines from her lips weren't helping. He brought his hand back between them and pressed his thumb to her swollen clit, rolling it in circles and using his other hand to keep control of her hips, slamming her down on him. 

Simone felt like she was on fire, the burning ache in her gut growing more intense the more Jake crashed into her. Her throat fell dry, and she could only manage wheezing grunts. Her brain felt like it was about to shut down, focusing solely on her climax as it shot through her bloodstream like venom and made her toes curl in her Oxfords. 

The second her walls gripped him, he felt her body give in and her legs shake. All it took was one last deep thrust upward before he matched her one-for-one. 

"S-shit, hermosa." He muttered, followed by a grunt nearly cutting off his sentence as he burst inside her. Simone was breathing heavily into his ear as their chests swelled and collapsed against each other. Their heartbeats were sporadic and thumped into the others' ribcage like two drums trying to outplay each other. 

It was bliss, but only momentarily, as they came down. Once Simone had the strength to move, she shifted off Jake and sank into the seat next to him, pulling her skirt back down her legs with a huff of satisfaction and exhaustion. 

"How much do I owe you? You turned the meter off." She asked with a breathless laugh. Jake ticked an eyebrow up,

"This one's on me, don't worry about it." He answered in a tone that sounded drained. He could get used to the feeling. She smirked and bent down, digging through her bag. She found her pack of smokes and pulled the lone cigarette out with her lighter. Jake knew little about this strange woman, but he could tell she had some shit on her mind. "Seems like ya needed it." He spoke up again, referring to the impromptu car sex.

Simone shrugged, not intending to tell him her life story or why she needed the distraction, as she opened the door to step out and smoke. "You got another one of those?" Jake asked, pointing to the dart between her fingers. 

"My last one. I never smoke the whole thing, though, so we can share." She offered. He gave her a what the hell? look and got out of the car with her after zipping his pants back up. 

Simone lit up, and they passed it back and forth. She was entranced by the visual of the face she knew as Marc smoking a cigarette like it was nothing. 

Marc doesn't smoke, and neither does Steven. She thought, overanalyzing it. Her studying didn't go unnoticed by Jake. "Take a picture, Chi-town." He teased. 

She took the smoke back from him, nestled it between her lips, and took a long drag that filled her lungs and burned her throat before passing it right back and letting the cloud escape. "It's just strange to see. Your host doesn't smoke." She explained. 

"Neither do I, and by the way you seem to only take a few puffs before throwin' the thing away, neither do you," Jake said before taking his own drag. Simone still watched him thoughtfully as a plume of fog left his mouth. Their postures mirrored each other, leaning against the cab. 

He really is observant. She thought to herself before speaking up again. "I quit for the longest. Only seem to pick it back up when shit hits the fan." She said. 

A moment of silence passes between them. Not uncomfortably or awkwardly, but contently until Jake felt like he wanted to pick the attractive woman's brain. "The frantic fuck in the back seat and the smokin' lead me to believe you're tryna forget about somethin'." He spoke up. 

Simone had reached the end of the cigarette, the final puff causing her fingers to burn when holding the butt before she tossed it away with a shrug. 

"I got you pegged, hermosa," Jake said again, egging her to explain. She looked away, trying not to let her face tell him anything, but he still pushed. "C'mon, doll, you just came all over my seats, and now you wanna play coy? What's goin' on?"

A heavy exhale escaped her as it became clear that he wouldn't give up. "It's a couple of things."

"One of those things include Marc and the other guy?" 

"Steven. His name is Steven, and yeah." She started, correcting him with a bit of bite in her tone for forgetting Steven's name. Jake liked the snap, though. "They want my help with something, and I don't know if I'm qualified enough." 

"Is that somethin' me?"

"Bingo, Bronx. They don't wanna black out anymore, and I guess I'm the only person who can do something about that, but you won't level with 'em."

"Well, shit, it's not like I want that fuckin' pigeon following me around all the time, but I wanna keep the suit, and I can't have it without the bird," Jake explained as he stuck his hands in his pockets to fight the blade-like breeze. "I dunno why they'd give that up."

"Because Khonshu's a bad actor, and I think you know that too."

"I ain't no saint either."

"Well, neither's Marc, or me for that matter. Steven's probably the closest thing to one, but he's also in our boat by association." 

Another silent moment passed between them like the wind. Instinctively, Simone stepped to the side and leaned her shoulder on Jake's to find some warmth. It was a comfortable and trusting gesture that made him feel good inside. 

"What about the other thing on your mind?" He asked, cutting through the hush again. He could tell she was still holding something back, and without warning, he brought the arm she leaned on up and over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. 

The moment surprised Simone, but she loosened up the second she was close enough to breathe in the scent that had felt like home to her. The side of her face touched the old leather of his coat, and she thoughtfully brought her hands under it, wrapping her arms around his midsection and introducing her rosy fingertips to his body heat.

Jake felt her take that long deep breath of comfort against him, and his thoughts went haywire. 

Goddamn, Lockley. Catch feelin's much?

"One of my patients was pronounced brain dead today. I can't help but feel like it's my fault." She admitted, bringing the man back to Earth. He appreciated that she trusted him with that and wanted to extend the best advice he would think.

"You really a doctor if you don't blame yourself for at least one patient's death?" Jake asked rhetorically. He knew Simone wasn't that kind of doctor but imagined it applied the same. Before she responded with words, he felt her arms tighten a bit around him. She needed this. Probably needed it more than the drink or the sex.

"That's awfully wise of you." 

Jake wanted to take credit and feel like he did something there but found himself in an honest mood. "Heard it on a TV show." He told. The air immediately brightened as Simone laughed, the sound and feeling reverberating through Jake's body and making him chuckle like a contagion and swell his heart. 

It was official: he liked her. A lot. But with the complicatedness of everything, he knew it wouldn't just be a matter of them hanging out, getting to know each other, falling in love, normal couple shit. He wasn't just the fist of Khonshu. He was apparently an extension of another person now. Another person that Simone truly loved. 

"Before you get any ideas, I'm not lookin' for anythin' serious." He spoke up again with a voice that sounded doubtful. He didn't loosen his hold on her, either, not trying to make it seem like a full-on rejection. 

"Don't worry about it; I know the deal. Wondering if I should have had your wrap-up first, though." She replied with a snicker as she remembered the gathering fluid in her undergarments. 

"The other guy wear a rubber?" He asked, looking down at her to catch her expression. All she did was shake her head, telling him she trusted his body. Rightfully so, as Jake didn't sleep around, and he doubted the other two did either. "Okay then, nothin' to worry about."

[miraculouscontent]

Hi, Adrien is handed things on a silver platter whereas Marinette has to work for them.

First thing’s first is just the concept of the love square. Chat Noir gets to interact with Ladybug no matter what because they’re heroes. Ladybug - who carries the weight and responsibility of heroism without getting benefited from it - is required to go to every battle due to her purification ability, and Chat Noir of course is going to show up because he loves both flirting with Ladybug and the freedom of being a superhero.

In addition, Adrien got his miraculous by helping Master Fu up (something that would be expected out of any semi-decent person; by the way, yes, I know the “””significance””” of the action, and it’s silly), whereas Marinette saved him from being hit by a car.

Adrien was allowed back in school with still no explanation from Gabriel (especially since he’s Hawk Moth) as to why he thought it was a good idea to send his son to a school where the very first akumatization had happened. It was Adrien’s goal for the episode alongside making friends, and Nino offered him friendship out of pity when Adrien sulked about how Chloe was the closest thing to a friend he had.

Chat crushes on Ladybug because she stood up to Hawk Moth in a speech dripping with confidence, caught what seemed like hundreds of akuma, and came up with a plan quick enough to save Mylene and Ivan from falling to their deaths from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Marinette (who Chat fell in love with one side of first, mind you, so already this is to his benefit), meanwhile, crushes on Adrien because the narrative gave her a falsehood about him never having any friends (i.e: no Chloe) and he gave her an umbrella while he was ten meters away from his actual ride (like with Fu, again, any decent person--).

Chat’s crush on Ladybug makes things harder for her because it causes him to throw tantrums mid-battle, get distracted and distract her because he’s busy flirting, all of which make her feel guilty for not returning his feelings. Marinette’s crush on Adrien makes things hard for her again because it causes her to embarrass herself while virtually everyone who knows teases/mocks her for it, their opinions of her even being dragged down due to the crush (see Alya with the Lila situation).

Chat is shipped with Ladybug by Parisians everywhere and Alya delighted in taking a picture of them kissing (that got posted on the Ladyblog without Ladybug’s consent). Likewise, the other LadyNoir kiss (that Ladybug had to do to free Chat from Dark Cupid’s control) was shown on live TV for all watching to see. Marinette’s kisses with Adrien, however, were either wiped from the timeline (in which Adrien got to keep a secret from her so he could date “””Ladybug”””) or used to humiliate her because Adrien was attempting a prank.

Ladybug realizes that Chat is in serious about her, not because he told her himself, but because he relayed it to Marinette who happened to be Ladybug. Marinette, on the other hand, has spent 3+ seasons attempting to confess her feelings to Adrien or make advances on him, all of which ended in some form of failure and some of which through no fault of her own.

Chloe shoved her in “Bubbler” (Adrien didn’t even check on her) and then Nathalie crushed the note she’d written on a scarf that Marinette put tons of time and effort into, leading to Adrien thinking it was from his dad.

“Copycat” was accidental and came on too strong, requiring its deletion.

She got distracted by Alya and forgot to write her name in “Dark Cupid,” her letter only further solidifying Chat’s crush on Ladybug.

She kept getting interrupted in “Gamer” after Alya chided her for using the event to get with Adrien (despite Alya doing the same thing for Marinette during the film in “Horrificator” while Mylene was MIA).

She wasn’t able to tell Adrien about Lila’s thievery in “Volpina” because the grimoire had to remain a secret.

The hat in “A Christmas Special” got given away within minutes and then not even brought back on-screen by Miraculous Ladybug (Adrien never even thanked Marinette personally for it).

Kagami came out of nowhere to take the fencing spot in “Riposte.”

Deciding not to make schemes only led to her embarrassment in “Gigantitan.”

She got made fun of and the notes all conveniently looked the same in “Backwarder,” leading to her mixing them up.

The macaron for Adrien (that Marinette would prepare every week) never got eaten by him and ended up causing the akuma after Chloe had emotionally manipulated Marinette into scheming with her.

Practicing on a statue (as per Tikki’s advice) in “The Puppeteer 2″ humiliated her when Adrien revealed himself as the statue.

She was embarrassed during the party in “Party Crasher” because she was pressured into dancing without her consent.

The timeline had to be reset in “Chat Blanc” and she had to lie to her friends that she hadn’t given Adrien the gift even though she’d actually succeeded, while the hat she made just for Adrien got written off as a gift from a random fan (which is an even worse fate than the scarf).

The confession in “Felix” was deleted by Felix himself before Adrien could see it.

And Adrien, meanwhile? Ohhhh boy, lemme tell you about Adrien.

He gets put into suggestive/close positions with Ladybug on many, many occasions, all for “free.”

He got a kiss from Ladybug in “Dark Cupid” that, remember, got photographed and put on live TV.

He got to goad the audience without consequence about he and Ladybug potentially being in a relationship eventually - gaining the knowledge that all of Paris was invested in LadyNoir to thoroughly stroke his ego - and then Ladybug had to act like they were a couple in “Prime Queen” to the point of holding Chat’s hand and saying that they were in love.

Likewise, “Glaciator” featured Ladybug having to act like a couple with him again, now to the point of kissing his cheek, and then Chat got a blush from her after he’d spent a good chunk of the akuma battle pouting that Ladybug didn’t come to the date he set up (that she hadn’t even known was a date because he purposefully withheld that information) despite her telling him that she’d have to see about it because she had plans.

He was reassured in “Anansi” on being “irreplaceable” after he made an unnecessary comment about being replaced by a turtle (Carapace).

He got to carry Ladybug around bridal style and also save her in “Sandboy” and “Reverser” respectively because she was rendered essentially useless without him, then got to save her again in “Frozer” after giving her the cold shoulder for rejecting his feelings.

He’s the one who got told by Marinette’s own parent not to apologize for how he feels in “Weredad” (note that Marinette herself never got this talk from Sabine, nor Tom, which very much could’ve prevented “Crocoduel”).

He got a cheek kiss from Ladybug in “Desperada” after getting to undo the very-much-against-the-rules identity reveal he made to her via Second Chance.

He got to look good in “Gamer 2.0″ when Ladybug was seeking advice from him despite the fact that her and Chat’s situations hero-wise are absolutely, completely, 100% different and he didn’t even try to take that into account.

He got Ladybug resting her head on his shoulder because of what she saw in a deleted time in which he - unbeknownst to her - lied by omission.

A fake Ladybug tried to kiss him on two separate occasions, “The Puppeteer 2″ and “Ladybug,” much to his delight (something to note is that the fake Adrien who went after Ladybug in both “Chameleon” and “Felix” tried to force themselves on her).

He got the “jealousy” moment from Ladybug in “Heart Hunter” and then a hug from Aquabug in “Miracle Queen.”

He received no repercussions for taking Ladybug out on a date (that she wasn’t aware was going to be a date) in “Gang of Secrets,” at best having to apologize for her behavior to the people around them.

He got reassured that Ladybug “couldn’t do this without him” in “Guiltrip,” even to the point of being told that she “probably doesn’t tell him enough.”

He got told by Ladybug that she would never abandon him in “Hack-San” because he was guilting her sulking about how his not knowing her identity would mean that he’d never see her again if she left him somehow.

And before you think this only extends to the romantic aspects of love square, let me tell you now that it definitely doesn’t.

Marinette entered the bowler hat competition and had to defend her own work to the judge.

She ran for class representative and had to earn the trust and faith of her class in “Darkblade” when put up against Chloe’s bribery.

She did whatever she could to make sure Juleka got her picture taken in “Reflekta.”

She had to actually craft a pair of glasses suitable for Jagged Stone in “Pixelator” and then make a gorgeous album cover for him in “Guitar Villain.” (note that this partially led to “Troublemaker” where she was just happily wanting to advertise her parents’ business, and the writers multiplied her Adrien pictures for the sake humiliating her when it was caught on live TV)

She had to work to get ungrounded by improving her attendance in “Simon Says,” because she had been busy being a hero.

She worked to try and get Nathaniel and Marc to get together on a project, knowing it would be good for both of them.

She set up an entire celebration for her bully to try and make said bully feel good about herself in “Malediktator.”

She did Kitty Section’s designs and costumes in “Silencer” and then had to go protect them from being stolen, along with her friends’ music.

She had to wear multiple miraculouses in “Kwamibuster” in order to go against Kwamibuster and get back both the ladybug earrings and the cat ring.

“Gamer 2.0.” Just... “Gamer 2.0.″

She made a whole complex lockbox to protect the Miracle Box in “Gang of Secrets.”

She worked to reach out to Zoe in “Sole Crusher” even after Zoe trashed her in front of the school, going as far as to try and comfort Zoe’s akumatized form.

She had to stand up for the movie to be fixed in “Queen Banana” because no one else would.

She has to work each and every akuma battle as Ladybug, figuring out Lucky Charms that can range from simple to complicated, while simultaneously dealing with a partner who relies heavily on her plans and will occasionally make things harder by either throwing tantrums mid-battle or distracting her.

And meanwhile...

Chat Noir got to throw the blame onto Ladybug for Theo’s akumatization in “Copycat.”

Marinette covered for him in “The Collector” when he was the one who recklessly lost the grimoire by not being careful with it.

He got handed Fu’s identity in “Syren” after whining to Ladybug, throwing blame on her and trying to bribe Plagg so they’d tell him, threatening to quit while Paris was underwater, and all of this while Marinette herself only got to meet Fu because she had the grimoire on her.

He was given the moral high ground in “Malediktator” despite not having to actually care about Chloe enough to call/check on her.

He got to sit back in “Chameleon” and not concern himself with judgment or comment on the situation with Lila, even going into “Ladybug” where he continues to inform no one about Lila (including Marinette, who briefly believed that Lila came to her senses and was willing to make amends) after Lila got Marinette expelled, despite the complete lack of risk on his part considering who his father is and how harshly Lila would be dragged through the mud if she dared to trash his reputation.

He clumsily trips in “Captain Hardrock” in a fashion that reveals an instrument he happens to play, leading to him getting invited to join Kitty Section within seconds of being on the Liberty. (so when Adrien is clumsy, it’s to his benefit, and when Marinette is clumsy, it’s to her detriment)

He never got called out for distracting Ladybug and digging for details that could relate to her identity in “Kwamibuster” (which, again, forced Marinette to do all the work to fix things).

He got a party thrown for him in “Party Crasher” by Nino, and also guys that Adrien had never put forth effort into interacting with or befriending (Marinette had also been through more with all of them sans Nino).

He got to force Ladybug’s favorite traits of his out of her in “Truth” because she was under the influence of Truth’s powers.

He got off the hook for sacrificing himself in “Lies” by flirting about Ladybug’s “irresistible angry little pout,” and also never got repercussions for flirting with another girl while dating Kagami.

He never had to face consequences for smashing a chimney in “Sentibubbler,” even as he was dismissing the gesture because he knew Miraculous Ladybug would fix it.

He didn’t have to apologize for his behavior in “Hack-San,” whereas Ladybug "had to” for telling someone else her identity (the details of why - i.e: that she was having a mental breakdown and needed a release from it - being completely left out) and not telling him that she was leaving (when she literally hadn’t had time to tell him anything; do note as well that Adrien didn’t have to do the same in either “Backwarder” or “Startrain”).

He received no consequences and was in fact rewarded for allowing the akuma in “Wishmaker” to hit him, a choice that Viperion has to live with because it caused him to see both Ladybug and Chat’s identities (meaning now Luka - someone who, like the guys in “Party Crasher” - Adrien has done virtually nothing for - can support Adrien since he knows).

And I could go on, I really could, but my point is that Adrien is given all of the sympathy and sad points while Marinette basically never is. Just like how he was born swimming in money, fame, and adoring fans, the show hands out praises and all the things he’s ever wanted because he’s sad.

He doesn’t have to try. He can whine and complain and vent to Plagg about how “replaceable” he is because the show will mollycoddle him to the moon and back. They’ll put his crush on Ladybug’s shoulders to make her feel guilty while Marinette is over here having to bust her butt just for a chance at Adrien recognizing any semblance of her feelings, and he goes on being blissfully ignorant of them so he doesn’t have to suffer like Ladybug does.

In addition, Marinette has to either be “““making mistakes”““ or embarrassing herself in order to get screen time because the burden of lessons fails upon her, whereas Adrien can be name-dropped without even doing anything.

It’s not just the love square that’s unbalanced, it’s everything between these two. Ladybug is scolded and punished for the slightest act of selfishness while Adrien is encouraged and rewarded for being selfish and demanding things. Marinette has to work to be noticed (and sometimes won’t even get that much) while all Adrien has to do is put on his best sad face and the show will bend over backwards to either give him exactly what he wants or make him the sympathetic one through the narrative.

Even if Adrien had known about Marinette’s crush at the time that Ladybug knew about Chat’s, it wouldn’t matter, because the tipped scales in how they’re treated would still make it so Marinette is the one at fault for “dumping her feelings onto Adrien” while Ladybug is still forced to interact with Chat even if his advances make her uncomfortable.

[fairyoftbz]

jealousy | l. hyunjae

🌊 pairing: bf! hyunjae x fem! reader 🌊 wc: 1.9k 🌊 synopsis: at the beach, your mood suddenly swings, and your boyfriend is too oblivious to understand why you're feeling that way. 🌊 genre: angsty fluff, comfort, very cliché, fluffy end 🌊 tw: insecurities, self body-shaming, a petty fight at the beginning 🌊 a/n: yeah I went to the pool the other day and it was pretty much this, except that I didn't have a hyunjae by my side lol... and Spotify played this olivia rodrigo's song a moment after.. but happy birthday to Hyunjae in advance!!! 🥰 🌊 requested: no!

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“What kind of fuckery is that?” you ask yourself when you take a look around you at the beach while Hyunjae was settling your stuff down in the sand, trying not to get too much sand on the cooler. He removed his t-shirt to be more comfortable, girls built like models ogled at your boyfriend’s back and abs, giggling together and biting their lips as they saw his muscles move around.

The beach was filled with slim, fit people, either working out or getting that tan for Instagram. The girls were so pretty and looked like models that could sign with Marc Jacobs, which had the ability to make you even more insecure than you already were. A feeling of uneasiness settled inside your body, especially your heart, who felt heavy with insecurity when you took another great look at the people hanging out around you.

“Here darling, take a seat,” he said as he placed down a wide tablecloth on the sand with your towel on it, thanking him with a brief smile before guiding him to plant the parasol to let you rest in the shade together.

His shoulders and biceps glistened with sweat as he stopped digging to hammer the parasol pole in the sand, rubbing the grains off his fingers to finally sit down next to you. His smile subsided when he noticed you staring into space, gaze on the water, a weary look painted on your face.

“Y/N, is there something wrong? Don’t you want to go in the water?” he quizzed you, not really understanding your mood swing. You were so excited when he offered to go to the beach, and now, you looked sad, almost disappointed to be there.

“You can go ahead, I’ll join you later,” you said as you rested on your back, covering your face with your straw hat.

Hyunjae observed you laying down, frowning as you didn’t even remove your beach dress. Something felt odd, weird. You loved being there and having fun in the water. What was going on?

He looked around to see what could have upset you this much, but he couldn’t find anything. People, friends and couples were laughing and enjoying the sun, just like he had expected you to do with him.

You open your eyes and clench your jaw when Hyunjae lifted your hat off your face, a veil of concern forming in his eyes. Shifting his weight on one hand, the other caressed your upper thigh, the warmness of his palm contrasting with your shivering skin.

“Did I do something that made you mad?” he dared to ask another question, trying to get a glimpse of your thoughts to try to understand what was actually going on. “No you didn’t. I just don’t want to go in the water now, the wind is making me cold,” you lied and Hyunjae sighed, understanding that you wouldn’t share what was on your mind for now.

He kissed your cheek anyway, mouth lingering on your skin a bit longer than usual and stood up, removing his cap and sunglasses while looking at the people around you with a frown. You watch him calmly walk to the water, silently watching the waves crash against his feet, calves and knees the further he walked in the ocean, his glistening back muscles moving as he raised his arms to dive underwater.

You sighed and rolled on your stomach, your back facing the shore as you folded your arms, using the back of your palm as a cheek rest, closing your eyes in the process. A single tear rolled down your cheek, captured by the edge of your sunglasses, followed by many more, letting the insecurities invade your mind. You didn’t even want to look at all the slim, IG models look alike smirking and eyeing your boyfriend up and down as he walked by. You already felt so uneasy to be here, you didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by looking at what you’ve always dreamt to look like being attracted to your partner.

But Hyunjae didn’t even notice those girls. His frown deepened even more when he only saw the back of your body, something quite usual coming from you. You absolutely adored the beach and the ocean, remembering one of your first dates where you told him that the beach - especially at sunset - was your solace, and now you were facing away from this source of comfort. Plus, there were occasions where you came here without really wanting to go in the water, just to enjoy the warmth and the sight of the ocean, happily waving at your boyfriend that was having fun in the water while you stayed in your seat.

He didn’t even notice them looking at him, because his eyes and mind were focused on you and you only, trying to find what had caused you to become this weary and down all of a sudden. He didn’t feel the same when you weren’t looking at him, when you shut yourself out and let your brain overthink on its own, refusing his help. A pinch of discomfort tightened his heart, regretting that he wasn’t as good at reading people as much as he wished to.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours,” he mumbled under his breath as he got out of the water, still not noticing that the source of your uneasiness were the ones staring at him, a few metres away from him as he walked back to you.

Droplets of salty water landed on your cheek and forearm as Hyunjae bent down to kiss your temple, forcing a tired smile on your face to try and not let anything show on your face.

“Is the water good?” you mindlessly asked as Hyunjae rested on his stomach, just like you, pushing his front pieces of hair back before putting his cap on.

“It’s a bit fresh at first, but once you’re in it, it’s good. You’d love it,” his voice trailed at the end of his sentence, eyes trying to probe your soul and bribe you to join him in the water.

“That’s great,” you nodded and sniffled, handing a bottle of water from the cooler to your boyfriend. He uncapped it but stopped, shifting on his side, resting his weight on his elbow.

“Babe, please, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting strangely since we got here, what’s going on?” he asked, voice ringing with frustration. You briefly looked at him before looking at the ocean, letting out a big sigh.

“Can’t you see anything, Jaehyun? Can’t you see that everyone around me, including you, looks like they just walked out of a Dior photoshoot by how slim and fit and pretty they look? That you have all the girls around us that ogle at you like you’re single? Yes I’m mad, yes I’m insecure, but I have my reasons, don’t you think?” you spat out your insecurities with teary eyes to your boyfriend’s face, who looked at you like he just saw a ghost.

That, was the last thing he had imagined. He never thought that you would get so insecure about this because you looked like the most beautiful girl in his eyes. He was about to speak up, but he placed himself in your shoes for a quick second, insecurities, as well as anger, started boiling in his veins as he imagined men looking at you like a fresh piece of meat.

You started scratching the skin around your thumb, a habit that you picked up when you were stressed and nervous and tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to ignore some girls still looking at and trying to flirt with your man. You wrapped your arms around your knees and pressed your chin on top of it, only to have Hyunjae positioning behind you to have you between his legs, wrapping his arms around your middle to press you against him.

He grabbed your hand to stop you from scratching it and he pressed his mouth against your shoulder, remaining silent as he tried to search for his words.

“No. I didn’t see any of those people, because I don’t care about how they look. I don’t care if the girls look like skinny models or if you find their faces pretty. Do you find the men here handsome ?”

“No,” you said in a wobbly voice, eyes glued to the ocean.

“Why?”

“Because I love you and I only have eyes for you,” you said in a shaky voice and Hyunjae remained in silence for a few seconds, knowing that you were smart enough to get what he was implying.

“So I don’t look at girls because?”

“Because you love me,” you said, voice wavering as tears rolled down your cheeks, Hyunjae holding you close to his chest, trailing salty kisses from your neck up to your cheek.

“Of course I love you, and with all my heart. I wouldn’t be with you if that weren’t the case.”

He grabbed your chin and you shifted to the side, sitting perpendicularly to him. His hands cupped your cheeks to make you look at him and he offered you a gentle smile, his thumbs wiping the paths the tears left on your skin when they rolled down your cheeks.

“I only see you, Y/N. You’re much more than looks, and you can’t say that you are horrible next to them. You are just yourself, someone more honest, prettier and funnier than all those girls around us. They don’t interest me at all, I only care about you. It’s not my problem if they think I’m handsome. As long as you’re in love with me, I'm at my happiest,” he caressed your cheek with tenderness, holding a huge amount of love for you in his eyes. You nodded, trying to make his words imprint in your brain and ignore everything and everyone that was surrounding you, but it was far from being easy.

You delicately touched his cheek and he kissed your inner palm while holding eye contact, assuring you that he only had eyes for you.

“Do you want to go in the water? Yes?” his eyes sparkled with joy as you nodded with a smile, your boyfriend springing to his feet and removed his cap, getting all excited when he watched you remove your beach dress.

“Stop staring at me like that Jae, we’re in public,” you giggled as you threw your dress at him, who hummed your perfume on the fabric before dropping it on your towel.

“I won’t. I want to let everyone know that I only have eyes for you,” he said as he grabbed your hand and started running towards the water, entering it with a big splash and laughter.

You dove underwater to get used to the salty water, reappearing at the surface a few seconds later, Hyunjae smiling at you. He wrapped your legs around his waist and held you close, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss.

“Chill, chill,” you laughed as you pulled away breathless, Hyunjae’s hands caressing your body.

“No, no, I wanna show them that they don’t have a single chance against you. And that you’re taken,” he grunted the last part of his sentence, making you giggle and hugging him close.

“Thank you, Jae,” you mumbled and your boyfriend stares at you with a reassuring smile, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I love you Y/N,” you held eye contact again and Hyunjae was happy to see your smile, kissing your lips the following second.

Gosh, you were so in love with each other.