#also. i need to stop attempting to write about Writing™ because i know absolutely Nothing! i might write about books & tv though....

[thematicparallel]

i am once again gravitating towards substack as a writing platform (<- someone who has never been consistent with posting her writing on any website ever)

[moodymisty]

If Fives and a Jedi fell in love do you think he’d ask them to use the force on him during sex?

-punches your frequent flyer card-

Ok: So first of all thank you for giving me the perfect excuse to write about Fives. I also haven't done a lot of Jedi!Reader either so, sweet.

Hope you enjoy, I wrote most of this while in an ice cold hospital room LOL <3

........Husband.........

Warnings: Lewd but not full NSFW, Inappropriate use of the Force, A hint of Voyerism, Fives being a naughty boy

I absolutely think he would, more so because... Well, it's Fives; We all know his antics.

When he first starts a relationship with a jedi it is literally the worst kept secret in the barracks. Everyone knows. The others just attempt for the first while to pretend they haven't seen him oogling and flirting just out of sympathy(and pity) for his attempts at secrecy.

But it's Jesse actually who first makes a mildly lewd comment about the Force over drinks once Fives' attempt at a secret was out, and his mind starts reeling with different ideas.

It that something Jedi can do? Would they do it? Would you? Fives needs an answer and he needs it ASAP. Jedi Code be damned.

So he decides to bring it up via a snarky little innuendo next time you both meet, but nothing instantly comes of it. However now the seed is planted™, and soon enough you decide to do something about it awhile later. Later enough that Fives probably forgot all about that little comment, until he and you are in the same location again.

Then he feels something on the little bit of exposed bodyglove between his thigh armor and groinplate.

But it's done as quickly as it started, and they're back to being a stalwart example of the Order. Just a touch to know that his little joke wasn't forgotten about.

Once Fives gets a taste he's going to want a whole meal knowing that you're willing to show him, he makes a mad (and awfully mischievous looking) dash with you back to the 501st barracks and locks the door tight for a long while. (A shame, because Dogma needed something in there and now he's locked out, and Fives yells at him to leave through the door)

But I also think that in this sort of scenario Fives thinks he's going to get some sort of Force handjob or other equally exciting idea, but ends up being held down onto a bed where you can now have your way with him and he really can't doing anything about it. (Not unless he genuinely wants it to stop which he absolutely doesn't)

He's not complaining in the least bit, but it's probably going into the filing cabinet of 'situations where Fives got in way over his head'.

(He also totally tells Jesse as a brag the soonest he has the chance, and they spend the next hour together concerning about if Fives just committed some sort of Jedi Code faux pas or not.)

[runawaymun]

For the wip game: give me sugar baby?

haha yeeeeeees you have a talent for finding the ones I desperately want to be asked about!!

Ok so we all know how I'm really really really partial to Celrond. I'm also really partial to Elrond/Lindir as an otp. Idk they're both just so??? soft???

And I have this dumbass idea for a modern AU romance fic for the two of them. And that name is just a stupid WIP name I slapped on there that a friend gave to me as a joke but now it's sticking oh no---

so ok, here's the concept blurb. This is gonna be long so bear with me. 

Lindir plays sugarbaby to wealthy old-money businessman Thranduil Greenwood, CEO of Greenwood Breweries. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement: Lindir has time to focus on his music and sticks to a part-time job at a coffee shop to make a little extra money for himself. Thranduil has a sweet young thing to hang off his arm and make puppy eyes at him at parties and meetings.

Things get uncomfortable when Lindir starts to develop a crush on Thranduil’s business partner, Elrond Peredhel. He’s mysterious, tall, handsome in a DILF sort of way, and Lindir is hopelessly smitten...which makes it hard to focus on making Thranduil look good.

Oh, and Elrond owns the coffee shop chain where Lindir works. Lindir absolutely hates himself for falling in love with someone so rich, well connected, powerful, and so very out of his league. Lindir is pretty sure that Elrond Peredhel doesn’t even care that he exists.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

More headcannons and also a snippet or two under the cut! This one’s writing itself so I have much more on it than some others. 

Elrond and Thranduil have a love/hate relationship. Elrond despises Thranduil’s arrogance and thinks he’s a little too debauched. Thranduil doesn’t think Elrond is debauched enough. 

Thranduil lives on a giant forested estate near his breweries and wineries. 

Elrond has one of those gorge-overlook type of houses, but maybe he has a suite in town for work. Definitely has semi-adult kids. Maybe Elladan and Elrohir are in college and Arwen is like still in school - maybe abroad? Foster-caring feral bby Aragorn who’s the son of a recently deceased friend. But yeah Elrond’s living in a giant house by himself. (Aragorn is still totally the heir to the throne of Gondor and his parents were assassinated). 

Lindir is pretty grayce and panromantic. Like he doesn’t really care about sex but he does pine a lot (but is also wayyyyy too shy to be in a real relationship). He’s dated a few people but kind of just gives up once they want sex. Thranduil’s an awesome arrangement because Thranduil isn’t at all in to him. Lindir’s more of like, an attractive handbag or tie. The sugar baby arrangement is just for looks. 

Which is a little frustrating because Lindir now can’t date anyone even if he wanted to, just in case their little “doting boyfriend” facade is ousted. 

Elrond totally believes they’re dating though and Thranduil doesn’t have the heart to contradict him. 

Elrond is fairly recently a widower/divorcee. He used to be a doctor but Celebrian developed a terminal illness and he couldn’t save her. And she ended up asking him to let her go and he quit medicine. Elrond is Sad(™). :( I hate to do this to Cel but I mean...it’s kind of canon. 

Thranduil insists Elrond needs to get out more and is throwing people at him left, right, and center in a misguided attempt to be helpful. Lindir is over here being like OH MY GOD STOP TOUCHING HIM and being like “aaaaa i’m so jealous”. And meanwhile Elrond is also really jealous of Thranduil and Lindir but he’s telling himself that he’s just annoyed with Thranduil’s PDA and that it has absolutely nothing to do with how much he likes Lindir no not at all. 

Elrond is really suave and together on the outside, but he’s actually just a really awkward touch-starved self-deprecating mess and he cannot understand why someone as young and pretty as Lindir is into him.

I have even more little headcannons but lmao I’ll stop. Here’s a few snippets of bits that I have written already: 

Lindir stopped to check his makeup in the visor mirror and touched up his lip tint. As they got out, he asked: “Do you want me to talk?” 

It was always a toss-up whether he was here as a distracting social buffer, or the elf equivalent of a handbag. 

“Absolutely not. Denethor is simply such a depressing wretch. I’ll need something pretty to look at so I don’t start fantasizing about throwing myself into traffic.”  

Right. Elf equivalent of a handbag.

Lindir preferred it that way. He was so unbearably awkward and he never knew what to say, but being a handbag didn’t require him to think. He just had to sit there, make puppy eyes at Thranduil, and laugh at his jokes. Easiest. Money. Ever.

The restaurant was stunning. Lindir would never dream of even setting foot inside something like this. Let alone affording to eat anything. Modern drop chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, smooth jazz echoed through the cavernous dining room, and every single person from the guests to the servers looked so sleek. Stepping into it felt like stepping into another dimension. It was busy tonight, but everyone talked politely over their food so that the hubbub was more of a pleasant murmur than anything else. 

The host at the front desk recognized Thranduil the second he stepped through the front door and led them to their table. Lindir tagged dutifully along. 

“Thranduil Greenwood! A vision as always.” 

The voice belonged to an older man in a black suit seated at their table next to an objectively good-looking pack of muscles. Muscles had a scruffy ginger beard and an easy smile. Just Thranduil’s type. The other one who’d called out to them looked enough like Muscles to be his father, but was considerably less attractive. 

Thranduil donned a demure smile and slipped his arm around Lindir’s waist. “Denethor. It has been far too long.” By Thranduil’s tone, it had been nowhere near long enough. “Have you met my sweet Lindir? I hope you have no qualms about him joining us. He’ll be good.”

Denethor’s expression soured. He quickly schooled it into something that was a distant bastard cousin of a smile, but he didn’t say hello. Muscles offered his hand.

“Boromir. A pleasure.”

Lindir shook it. “Like--likewise.” The stutter hadn’t been intentional. He’d just been so surprised that Boromir had paid him any attention at all. As the two of them sat, Thranduil threw his arm over the back of Lindir’s chair. Lindir leaned back into it. Their host came by and Thranduil ordered a bottle of wine. Both Denethor and Boromir already had twin glasses of some kind of amber alcohol with a red layer pooled on the bottom. Lindir didn’t know his drinks well enough to venture a guess as to what kind of cocktail it might be. Something expensive, to be sure.

Thranduil glanced at the one conspicuously empty chair and then back at the two men. “Where is Elrond?” 

“Late,” Denethor croaked, as if it was the worst sin imaginable.

Thranduil’s smile thinned. It was the kind of smile Lindir knew meant he was thoroughly annoyed, but unwilling to relinquish a centimeter of composure.

-

Lindir had been staring at his wine glass. He looked up to see an elf in an immaculate burgundy suit gliding into the empty chair opposite Thranduil. 

“I apologize for my tardiness. My flight was delayed and I had a serious matter to attend to at the district office.” 

The elf, Elrond, Lindir presumed, was so tall it was unreasonable. He rivaled Thranduil, but he seemed a little more athletic. His voice was deep and warm, his expression kind-- if a little exhausted-- and he held himself like a king. And that hair! Receding ever so slightly, but it was so dark and long and neat, with tiny braids that framed his delicately pointed ears and-- he looked so familiar… why did he look so familiar? 

Lindir was blushing. He was actually blushing. Oh, Valar. What’s wrong with me? It only got worse when those gray eyes landed on him. His stomach felt weird.

“Would you care to introduce me?”

Thranduil reclined back into his chair with a cheshire smile. “Lindir. Isn’t he a darling thing?”

Elrond glanced between the two of them. Lindir tried to sit up and relax his shoulders and act as if his blush was simply a product of the compliment. He shot Thranduil another one of his luminous saucer-eyed looks, and Thranduil leaned in to kiss him as if he really was the most irresistible thing in all of Arda.

Denethor cleared his throat. Boromir passed Elrond a menu. Elrond jumped at it, glad for something to look at that wasn’t the two of them. 

“I believe this is a meeting, Thran, not one of your parties,” Elrond said in a tone that was almost scathing. “Do try to behave.” 

Thranduil idly traced the shell of Lindir’s ear with the tip of his finger. “You wound me, mellon nin. I always behave.” 

-

“Do excuse me for a moment. I have to take this. I shan’t be long.”

Thranduil strode off to the patio and Lindir sat there feeling utterly naked without him nearby. He’d been accompanying Thranduil to various engagements for almost six months now, but Thranduil had never left him alone. And of course it had to be today of all days.

Elrond reclined in his chair and took out his phone, coffee poised in one hand. Lindir cradled his own, stealing nervous looks toward the patio where Thranduil was beginning to pace and looked very cross. Lindir shrank in his chair and tried not to fidget.

The restaurant was fading into the closing hour. Most of the diners had filtered out. One of the hosts flitted around straightening chairs and wiping down tables. Another led a late-coming group to the bar.

Minutes dragged by. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Thranduil hadn’t come back. The silence was suffocating.

“I really like your suit,” Lindir blurted, and instantly wished for death.

Elrond looked up from his phone in surprise. 

Lindir, for some Eru-forsaken reason, decided to add: “It’s-- it’s--it’s um-- a really nice...color. The red. Burgundy! I mean--” 

A tiny smile spread across Elrond’s features. It would’ve been a great time for the floor to open up and swallow Lindir whole.

“Thank you,” Elrond said. He looked out at Thranduil, still pacing on the patio, then turned his attention back to Lindir. “You don’t seem like Thran’s type.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Lindir agreed, which was a mistake. His ears burned and he floundered for some way to recover. “He’s, um-- he’s way out of my league.” He flavored it with a laugh he hoped sounded more shy than anxious. 

Elrond didn’t say anything. He just sat there, studying him with his phone balanced in his hand. It buzzed. 

Linder blundered into: “Sorry,” because he didn’t know what else to say. Elrond’s phone buzzed again. “Should you--um-- that’s probably important. Sorry. Don’t mind me.”

Elrond set his phone face down on the table and took a sip of his coffee. “At the risk of sounding trite, what do you do? You said nothing during dinner.” 

Lindir’s head emptied. A few moths might have flown out of it. He felt sure a tumbleweed blew through. Don’t say barista. Don’t say barista. Don’t you dare say you’re a barista.

“Music.”

No. That’s worse. Oh Elbereth, that’s so much worse! Why would you say that?

Elrond looked surprised again. “Music?” He echoed.

“Not really,” Lindir amended. “Kind of. Sort of. It isn’t really a thing. A thing-thing. I mean--” 

“--Not really, kind of music?”

Valar, why wasn’t the floor swallowing him yet? Could he just disappear? A wild fantasy about a meteor falling from the sky to squash him into Lindir-soup suddenly struck him. That would be nice.

“It isn’t a career. I’m not anybody. I just write things-- and um, and play. What--what about you? I mean. That’s a stupid question. Obviously you’re a CEO…”

Elrond rescued before he could embarrass himself further. “I enjoy music as well. I must confess I’m not much good at making it. And I am a great lover of books.”

Despite himself, Lindir lit up. “What kind of books?”

-

“My apologies. That took far longer than I had expected.” Thranduil grazed his hand along the curve of Lindir’s neck. Lindir, habitually, leaned into it.

Elrond picked his phone back up and checked on that text. “No harm done. Lindir kept me company.”

Thranduil looked shocked.

“Did he?”

Elrond simply hummed and stood. He bent to write the check for dinner before Thranduil could beat him to it. “It is very late, mellon nin. But perhaps we can continue this conversation at a later date. I will have Glorfindel call you to arrange it.” He rebuttoned his burgundy suit jacket and, on his way out, said: “He’s very charming, Thranduil. Keep that one.”

Once Elrond was gone, Thranduil turned to Lindir with a withering glare.

“I just said his suit looked nice,” Lindir mumbled. 

“His suit is burgundy,” Thranduil exclaimed with abject horror. “I have been trying to rid him of that dreadful thing for an Age.”

“Sorry.”

Yeah that’s part of the really garbled first chapter. I have most of an outline & planned a lot of scenes. It’s mostly just really gay self-indulgent fluffy garbage lmao. I’ll get around to actually posting the thing one of these days, but I really want to finish And the Stars Shine the Same first!