#it’ll probably be for Partners With Wings

[gamerbot-22]

Touchstarved LIs and Cuddling

Two posts in two days? On my account? Someone pinch me!

Also half-spawned from @asexual-abomination, because we’ve had this conversation a thousand times.

TW/CWs: Potential Accidental Canon Divergence (this will probs be a warning on ALL my TS stuff until the game’s released), mentions of sleeping together but it’s purely literal and genuinely not a euphemism for sex, hand-waving the touch curse a bit, Ais is an asshole about personal boundaries, Mhin is meant to be read as combatively shy but willing, partially proofread.

Can be read as platonic or romantic! Same as before! Also I’m gonna be making a lot of references to the “No one asked but I found Mortal Kombat’s best cuddler” video by Brian David Gilbert for Polygon because it’s a good vid and you should watch it if you haven’t already!)

(One day I’ll make a custom sparkle banner for the cut, mark my words! Also rqs are open! Likes and reblogs appreciated!)

🕊️ Kuras

Definitely one of the Emotionally Vulnerable & Safe Cuddler types from BDG’s video.

I don’t think. Kuras needs to sleep? At least I don’t remember there being anything in canon to suggest that. But! I think he enjoys the occasional catnap, and can be persuaded to actually sleep with you if you ask him about it.

Like you hit him with the “isn’t a good night’s sleep supposed to be good for you?” and “shouldn’t you be a good example for your patients?” and he gives you a good-natured—if slightly stiff—chuckle as he guides you over to the cot in his office.

The cot’s kinda narrow since it’s only build for the one patient to sit/lay on it, so by default a lot of spooning/honeymoon hugging(? Spooning when you’re facing each other) is happening.

There’s not really a blanket situation happening, but he’s really warm and his hands are eternally soft so it’s just super pleasant.

And after a while he starts to get his wings involved, too. At first it’s only when you’re asleep, but later on, after you learn about his status as a fallen angel, he’s more open about it, even if he gets all shy when you ask.

And there’s something just so peaceful about how he holds you. His hands never wander, and he keeps his voice soft. The first couple times he asks to pet your hair or touch your face, and soon enough it just becomes a rhythm for the two of you. <3

🪄 Leander

This man wants to hold you SO BAD.

Literally will get on his hands and knees if you ask him to. Touchstarved isn’t just the name of the game, babes!

Brags so much about his big bed at the Wet Wick but the man is so clingy you two end up using like. 20% of it.

He’s tryna be all suave, inviting you to come over and lay your head on his chest but on the inside he is screaming.

For the first dozen times he just stays up, watching you snooze or daydream against his chest. Then after a while he starts to doze off before you do.

Definitely the type to tell you bedtime stories. Most of them are just recounting things that have already happened to/around him, but occasionally he does a little embellishing or a bit of improv for flavor.

He’s doing it to keep things interesting and maybe make himself look cooler to you? But he’s keeping it as low energy as possible so you don’t lose any sleep.

🦊 Vere

If Kuras is in the Emotionally Vulnerable and Safe Cuddler corner, Vere is on the fucking polar opposite side.

Definitely makes a big show of it the first time you ask, joking about his rates and the rules (“no kissing and hands off the tail!” shit like that.)

Also gives zero fucks about your comfort. He’s like a tiny dog taking his half of the bed out of the middle and you’re just gonna have to cope for a while.

Buuuuuut… if you talk nice, let him come to you, and show him you just want proximity and nothing else… maybe he’ll warm up.

And the jokes die down, and he gives you room to settle, and eventually he’s curling up right next to you and draping his tail over your legs.

Congrats! The cute fox boy is sharing a bed with you! Beware his flicking ears and squeak-snoring.

The whole process takes a good while, but I think it’s worth it <3

⛩️ Ais

Definitely kinda coy about sharing a sleeping place at first. It’s not Vere levels of mockery—mostly cause he doesn’t mean it the way Vere does—but Ais has a really annoying habit of getting under your skin.

But yeah, after some “arm-twisting,” he’ll let you lay down and get cozy.

He goes right to sleep more often than not, though, even if that’s not what the cuddling is for. Dude just closes his eyes and drops into dreamland like it’s nothing.

He says he’s just resting his eyes but that’s only the case maybe a third of the time.

I think he probably shares his sleeping space with Soulless, which usually means he’s all cramped up, but now that he’s only sharing the bed with one other body he takes the chance to sprawl.

You will end up flat on your back/face with Ais on top of you, it’s just a matter of when it happens.

He’s an asshole about it, too. He makes this big show of how cozy he is and how it’s been supposedly “forever” since he’s got to curl up like this, but if he gets the feeling you’re being serious he’ll get off.

🪡 Mhin

Inside of Mhin are two sleeping wolves.

One of them wants cuddles really bad but is abysmal at asking for them.

The other sleeps flat on their back like a corpse and startles awake at the slightest sound.

If you’re cuddling to pass the time instead of going to sleep Mhin gets all defensive either way. “Sounds like a waste of time when I could either just sleep or do something else” type shit.

You kinda gotta wrastle them into it, especially if they’ve been staying up for prolonged periods. “Rest isn’t sleep but it’s better than nothing.”

They’re not in the habit of initiating any of the cuddling (again, that wolf would sooner die than ask,) but if you “insist” (ask politely) they’ll let you take a crack at it, “if only to get some peace and quiet.”

If they doze off, like I said, they’ll startle awake at any sound so you’re probably not going to get a lot of sleep by proxy. But! You get to hold them and explain away all the noises, which is fun <3

[monster-fluffery]

Harpies as Romantic Partners(SFW)

I absolutely love harpies and they’re probably my second favorite monster out there..

So enjoy my thoughts! I apologize that it’s short!

GN! Harpy x GN! Reader

First of all, Harpies have some of the strongest instincts out there among monsters. This could mean a myriad of things. Let’s start with something simple. Harpies mate for life, choosing one person to love for the rest of their lives. They’re dedicated lovers and mates; who would do anything in the name of their beloved. They’ll show off and show you just how fast they can fly, how long their wings are, how good they are at hunting and bringing you food… whether you think it’s a little gross or not, it’s a cute gesture. They have nesting instincts, building you a home and bringing you little gifts to win your affection.

Your harpy partner’s love language has to be gift giving and acts of service. This is all part of the harpy mating ritual. To be more specific about gifts, anything shiny catches their eye. They’ll bring you all sorts of shiny rocks and lost jewelry for you to wear. Their neck feathers will puff up in pride when they see you enjoying the gift, fueling their pride. Making you happy is their top priority.

You’ll never go cold with a harpy around, because they’re insane cuddle bugs. During the nesting period, your partner will be sure your ‘nest’ is stocked up with warm blankets and pillows per your request. On top of that, they want nothing more than to be your harpy heater. Harpies are cuddle bugs, typically out of instinct. They’ll use their own bodies to be a shield for you as you sleep, in your most vulnerable moments. However, when your partner learned about how humans cuddled.. they fell in love with the concept. You’ll often find the, snuggling their beak against your hair or neck. Their arms will wrap around you as you both become a messy tangle of limbs.

Circling back to acts of service… grooming/upkeep is very important for your partner. Many times, they’ve took a hold of your hips and dragged you into their lap. Your back is against their chest and their arms encircle your waist, trailing their claws up and down in a gentle repetition. Then, they leaned their head down and begin to ‘preen’ your hair. Their beak will pick out any knots or tangles, any loose leaves or dirt. Even afterwards, they’ll release your waist to comb your hair with their talons. It’s very soothing, like a scalp massage. You surely won’t complain about your beloved wanting to pamper you, right?

If you’re not afraid of heights, your partner will have no problem taking you for a trip in the sky. They’ll scoop you up bridal style and take off into the endless sky, day or night. You’ll tuck your head into their neck, clinging to their feathers to make sure you won’t fall.. though it’s only for your peace of mind. Your partner would never drop you; they’re much more focused on the fact they’re holding you in your arms than the fact that you’re in the sky. You’ll zip through clouds or get full uninterrupted views of the starry night sky.. and it’ll be one of the most majestic sights you could ever fathom.

Harpies don’t have too much knowledge on how humans show affection. So, you will have to teach them a lot of the basic types of displays. When you taught them about kisses, you swore you saw their light up with amazement. They were fascinated by the idea of kissing and they’ll take every opportunity they can to absolutely cover every inch of your face with quick paced kisses. They never fail to make you topple over in a fit of laughter at their displays.

[hazbn-oneshots]

Dancing Headcanons

Enjoy!!

Charlie:

Charlie loves to dance, that’s a given. With as strong as a passion that she has for singing, well it’s not really surprising when the two go together like milk and cookies.

Both a fan of freestyle dancing as well as more classical styles, she’ll grab your hand and pull you into a full Ballroom-Style Waltz before moving onto a lively two-step.

Speaking of the waltz, it’s one of her favorite dance styles. It makes her yearn for a day where she could throw a big party and just parade around the room, showing off just what kind of power couple is taking on Hell.

She mainly just likes to show you off, she’s very proud to call you her partner and she’d scream it from the rooftops if she could.Or even twirl you ‘round and ‘round an ornately decorated ballroom.

Until then she’ll settle for twirling you around in the dim light of your bedroom, singing quietly to the old record playing.

Vaggie:

Vaggie doesn’t know how to dance and it takes a lot of convincing and just a little bit of bribing for her to even entertain the idea of letting you show her some moves.

She’s relatively quick on the uptake, however, her background as a fighter serving her well to stay quick on her feet. She definitely takes to the livelier dances, absolutely loves to salsa and as soon as she hears the music she’s immediately tying her hair up.

Vaggie will never admit it to you but she looks forward to these moments with you, showing her whichever new dance you had practicing just to show her.

Lead her through a sultry tango and you’ll have her swooning in no time, although in the classic Vaggie fashion you’ve come to love. With a face brighter than the sun, if you even dare to try going for a kiss she’ll…. Well she may just let you have one ;)

Alastor:

Few may know but in the living world, Alastor lived quite a thriving social life and with that comes a little bit of knowledge when it comes to the dancefloor, be it old fashioned as it may.

He’ll be genuinely delighted if you’ll ask him to dance with you, probably one of the few times you see his forced grin slip into a more relaxed smile.

Alastor forces everyone to vacate the main floor of the hotel, after all, he would have nothing in the way of a perfect evening with his darling.

An evening complete with a custom outfit he’d had ordered for you from his tailor-only the best- and a shiny old phonograph that broadcast music that he was more familiar with himself. 

And with you on that floor, he almost feels like his old self. It’s like the hotel fades away only to be replaced with the backdrop of the old club he’d frequent when he was still human. He’ll fox trot ‘till the morning comes, loves to Charleston, his smile never wavering one bit.

He only begins to slow when he notices you begin to slow, tripping on your feet with a newfound exhaustion. He’ll glide you to a stop, one hand on your lower back and the other holding one of your own.

"We’ll break for now dearest, wouldn’t want to take you out of the race”

You better take a breath and drink of water though because before you know it you’re swept away again

Husk:

He’s more of a watcher, truth be told. With his big ol feet and wings, he knows he’ll end up getting in the way so he prefers to keep his post behind the bar. It doesn’t bother him, not dancing anyway. These stupid little hang outs that Charlie organizes at the hotel bar piss him off beyond belief however.

Things typically go one of two ways. Either every resident of this forsaken hotel will completely disregard the invitation; Which never fails to upset the poor princess and leave her and Vaggie sulking on a couch.

Or, on rare nights such as tonight, a few residents will show up and sometimes it’ll fizzle out not long after everyone gathers. 

Not tonight though.

You see, during your stay at the hotel you and Angel had come to become quite close and as such had decided to take it upon yourselves to liven everyone up a little. You pick the music though, Angel’s taste wasn’t awful but you feared sending Sir Pentious into a fit with the content.

You only try to ask Husk to dance once and his wordless response was but a chuckle.

"I don’t dance kid but, maybe next time” and if you catch the hint of fondness in his eye as he turns to put a glass away, you sure don’t mention it.

Angel Dust:

Sign him the fuck up, he doesn’t care what they put on, when it is, he just wants to grab his love bug and give them a spin.

He’s the type to remember certain reactions you’ll have to specific songs, making sure to add them to a special playlist reserved for you.

He even named it after you, adding little hearts and kissy faces next to your name.

Angel likes to break it put whenever you’re feeling down, even if you’re not fully up to a dance he’ll wrap you up in a gentle sway anyway. 

Due to the height difference he’ll let you stand on his feet while he sways back and forth. Complete with little peck kisses on the head and face as well.

It’s not long before you’ve got your face buried in his chest, wondering what you did to deserve someone like him.

He’s gonna twerk on you at some point those, it’s inevitable. If the two of you are out on the town for a night, you can bet he’ll be dragging you to the liveliest club possible, eager to dance up on his honey

Requests are open!!

[pigeonpeach]

Genshin bachelorettes and bachelors proposing!

Characters: Jean, Diluc, Eula, Itto, Kuki Shinobu, Kujo Sara, Navia, Clorinde, Arlecchino

Cw: fem reader, fluff mostly, some suggestive themes.

Arataki Itto

Oh this was a hard decision. Not that he didn’t want to spend his life with you but if now was the right time to propose. He isn’t exactly the most well off. His gang camps out in the wilderness and he knows your parent’s expect him to improve. And he wants to. With Shinobu’s help he starts to get a education much to your surprise. Slowly working himself up to have more than a basic reading level. When he can land a more steady income then he’ll propose. He wants to get you the best ring in all of Tevyat. Unfortunately he can’t afford that. But Shinobu advises him to aim for more affordable but still pretty rings.

As for the proposal itself. He’s definitely going for either the big party with friends or if he’s spent most of his mora on the ring already he’ll just ask you on a quiet little walk with just you present. But knowing Itto, you probably would’ve found the ring before all that.

Itto may not be the best in terms of providing money, but he’d never slack off elsewhere. His granny raised no coward! If you’re the breadwinner he’ll gladly take up the house chores. He is a bit dumb yes but he is the most loyal and devoted man you could meet. With unwavering support and loyalty. Never will he let you face anything alone.

Eula Lawerence

Marriage is a bit complicated for her. She has renounced her family yes, she is disowned yes. But the subject of last names is what gets her. Truth be told… her last name is a small price to pay for you. She knows the other option isn’t ideal. If you take her name it’ll ruin your reputation.

But.. she’s certain its you she wants. Its you she wants to come home to. Its you she wants to sleep next to every night. And its you she wants to grow old with and feed birds with. She decides to discuss it with you.

Her proposal is less romantic and more straightforward. She knows this is a serious discussion and doesn’t want any miscommunication or misunderstandings. She wants to know if you would take her last name or have her take yours. The decision is yours sure but eitherway she wants only you to be her bride. No one else. No matter how many letters her family sends.

Diluc Ragnvindr

Oh he’s shy! Diluc’s been thinking for so long. How the naked ring finger on your hands seems to irritate him. How he perks up, red and flustered like a schoolgirl when one of his business partners accidentally calls you Mrs Ragnvindr. Said business partner later told him he should consider getting a ring soon. With that he starts planning.

A romantic little date alone at the winery. He takes you out for a picnic near the lake. There is a great deal of preparation taken into this. The entire slime and hilichurl population nearby is turned to zero. Adelinde planting many flowers along the path he’s planning and in the spot he’s picked out. You can be certain Diluc has left nothing to chance here other than your answer. He prepares the finest suit and the finest dress for you. Afterwards there will be a engagement party.

Kuki Shinobu

She too is also more straight forward and less romantic. One night you two were cuddling as she just randomly asked if you want to marry her. Bit jarring sure but hey at least she asked in a semi romantic context.

She handles all the coordination. You two work like a team to save money for a court house wedding with a killer after party. Needless to say the Arataki Gang is heavily involved in throwing the best celebration ever for Kuki Shinobu.

Kujo Sara

For so long Sara believed she was undeserving of love. That her only place in this world was serving the shogun and keeping the peace. But you gave her something other than the shogun to report to. Her home felt more welcoming with you in it. You didn’t change much yet she felt more at ease. She lets you preen her wings, picking out old or damaged feathers to let new ones grow. But unlike the family who took her in you keep her feathers. You say it’s because you can’t throw away something that was apart of her. She secretly likes seeing you collect them. Maybe you’ll even have accessories made out of them and then that sends her to the conclusion that she needs to marry you. Her position is dangerous yes. But she can’t imagine a life without you.

She very much leans to the traditional methods. Asking your parents for their approval. Setting a nice dinner to ask you during.

The ceremony is quite special, she’s a nervous wreck as she worries about anything that could go wrong. But as long as she has you, she won’t have much. To worry about anymore.

Jean Gunnhildr

Oh she’s been planning this for awhile. She’s had the ring ready but she’s been too nervous. The romantic set up she prepares end up not being perfect enough for her so she plays it off. Until you end up proposing yourself, of course she agrees but she’s embarrassed she took too long.

A traditional and beautiful wedding. She ends up letting you plan most of it as she’s already busy but she’s more than eager to help. Its a biggggg event. The acting grandmaster getting married is treated almost like a festival. The people of Mondstadt send you their well wishes and plenty of gifts. To your surprise alot of businesses offered lower price’s because of Jean. She is well beloved by the nation so no doubt is no one going to overprice it. Catering, flowers, decorations, you used the extra money saved to tip the servers well. The Mondstadt Chapel being the location, it was like half of Mondstadt attended. And those who didn’t receive a invite would wait outside. Lord Barbatos seemed to pleased with your union, with clear skies and only a tickling wind. It’s intimidating walking down the isle to see half of Mondstadt looking at you. But when you see just how smitten Jean looks. How she wipes tears as she tries to maintain composure. You don’t feel as scared knowing just how happy she is. She can hardly keep her hands off of you either.

Your honeymoon is in a nice cottage far from the city as you two go together. Lisa left in charge, knights making sure to maintain the perimeter. Its perfect.

Navia

Her proposal will infact be a crazy set up. Sending you on a goose chase to meet with her, each location being a significant place in your relationship. The restaurant you had your first date at, the alley you had your first kiss in, etc etc. the clues hidden closely. Passerby’s participating by helping out or giving you clues as well. And when you finally find her its in Poission, with the flowers blossoming and the wind in your hair. The guards place a pillow on the ground before she gets on one knee, a ring displayed. The ring her father gave her mother. She wants you to have it. To be hers forever and for all eternity.

The wedding is no less complicated. Creative decorations, dozens of desserts, etc. the macaroons decorated to look like either yours or her face. The cake is beautiful. Youve never felt so pretty as when she takes your hand and showers you in praises that would have you marry again if you could. Just the look in her eyes alone has you under a spell. Pure and raw devotion. A lone tear as she knows she’ll never be alone again. Four seats are left empty. Two for her parents. Two for Melus and Silver. But she knows they’re cheering from the grave as she pulls you in for another kiss and another dance. Navia has been through so much heartbreak. You can tell she’s pained at the fact she cannot do her own father daughter dance, not with her dad or Melus. So you make extra sure to be close. But you… all dressed in white… its a great distraction for her. Reassuring her that she’ll never be alone again.

Clorinde

She is a sappy but subtle person. She goes through the effort of the surprise. Making sure you would say yes though. She prepares only the best, a reservation in a private table, the best foods for you to stuff yourself with. She smiles slightly wiping your face herself. The ring is hidden in a cake, with the box sitting ontop. Protected from the icing. You recognize it immediately.

She’d likely prefer a more small wedding. If you want something big then she’ll compromise but for the most part it is mostly close friends and relatives. Clorinde goes through the typical groom and bride stuff where she avoids seeing you in your dress. Walking in to your dressing room, blindfolded to give you a kiss to reassure you everything is fine. She has the finest of everything picked out. No accidents allowed. Her sword is also still hidden on her person at all times just in case. By the end of the reception your lipsticks have blended into one color as she just got too excited.

Arlecchino

She is a romantic at heart yes, but she’s also extremely business minded. She will make her intentions of marriage clear to you. Presenting the pros of it. She’s relieved when you agree but she decided to stage a proper proposal randomly. She wants to surprise you but not too much. There’s some red herrings for you for a little bit. False headings. Until Lyney and Lynette perform a private little magic show in which she magically appears to slip the ring on your finger. Of course the children are absolutely delighted!

The wedding happens in two parts. There’s the business one. With her harbinger colleagues and others. You got to meet the Tsarsita who bestows you with her blessing, a nerve wracking ordeal indeed. You spend the entire day at Arlecchino’s side trying to dodge the confusing questions the harbingers ask. They feel oh so scary but fear not, for she will not stand to watch her beloved wife be intimidated. If they get out of line she will not hesitate to put them back in their place.

The second one is for the orphanage. All of her children called to attend in the biggest ceremony. A large celebration filled with warmth and joy for you. Your family and friends can come to this one and only this one. It’s something you actually were more than fine with considering her colleagues. The children are so very happy to see their father so happy too. Her hand never leaves your side. You dance until your feet are sore. Unfortunately you teo don’t get to have a honeymoon but the kids will make sure you have no chores for a week straight while you and your husband wife relax.

[traffys-heart]

good luck on your exams! wish you the best.

your loser virgin law prompts are sooo good. and i need a place to vent my similar feelings/headcanons

he has a proactive poster of pink poison from the germa series. it’s her posed, wings out and her hands behind her head. one of her legs is bent, almost like a flamingo. obvs it’s literally based on reiju, so when he sees sanji for the first time he’s a little attracted to him since he looks so much like her (and it confuses the hell out of him)

he jerked it to a medical diagram in his teenage years. it was a real picture of a vulva in a book, in comparison to the typical drawing. he got ahead of himself though, failing to realise it was a diagram to help diagnose and recognise thrush.

his first exposure to real porn was during the time he travelled with the straw hats to dressrosa after punk hazard. in the men’s dorm on the bookshelf, not understanding it was sanji’s personal collection. he looks at the images, fascinated and taking notes. he knows the motion of the ocean, but to see how it actually works. what he fails to know is that is a service top magazine. the images were focused on the men pleasuring the woman, and he takes that as how sex goes. he can stay in control, but give his partner as much pleasure as possible.

body fluids is a big no. but the minute he reads about how orgasms can help with period cramps, there’s nothing he would enjoy more. he doesn’t mind blood— he’s used to it from the violence and surgeries he perform— but the idea of the only blood not born out of accident or violence really tickles the freak side of him

i have a couple others, but I wanna hear your opinions first 🤭

—

yess i feel like ppl on twitter understand better the loser that law truly is!! don’t let his pretty face deceive u he probably has his own spot in the eltingville club

anyways living for one sided sanlaw and law awkwardly staring at sanji during crew interactions which usually gets misinterpreted into glaring daggers at the blond. (tbh for some reason ive always seen sanlaw in the context of coralaw so it never really interested me but this is soooo much better)

jerking it to thrush is insane but tbh if u have never seen pussy before u gotta work w what u got. law getting hard over medical diagrams esp those of women w their breasts exposed or in what he would consider compromising positions is def high up there for some of my fav hcs.

as much as i would love for him to be a skilled pussy eater ik those magazines aren’t teaching him shit </3 im sorry men trying to replicate anything they’ve seen in porn 99/100 times never works and always leaves both parties w embarrassment. that being said, the idea of law developing a fixation of eating u out from porn is hot. he kinda thinks he knows what he’s doing (he doesn’t) but most of the time he just wants to bury his face underneath ur skirt and feel u up.

ive never been comfortable enough to have period sex before so im a little unsure how to breach this topic but i do not see law having a problem w u on ur period when trying to get freaky. he’s a horny surgeon, blood isn’t gonna stop the guy. pls let him finger u while he sucks on ur sore tits bc he’s a doctor and he guarantees it’ll make them feel better. he definitely gets a rush watching the deep red mix with the creamy webs on his hand.

i would love to hear ur other ideas nonnie! i really do love writing for law and seeing other ppl expand upon my own ideas is just the best feeling ever <3

—

[geeneelee]

Judit’s Backstory, or: Why She Supports Harry

This is a post I’ve been meaning to write for a while, especially since it’s apparently not common knowledge in the fandom, but Judit has a developed backstory with Harry that can only be put together through reading one of the case files (so perhaps it’s not that surprising that people don’t know).

We start with Joseph Mills: an idiot and a terrible person.

No, he was awful. Awful sense of humour too. The worst jokes you've ever heard. Really rapey.

Harry can find out about him from reading MURDER IN THE HOOKAH PARLOR from his case files. Long story short, Mills mistook an accidental death for a murder and wasted months on it, only for Harry to identify it as a dumb accident in less than a minute.

What’s more relevant to the present-day is this:

Beaten to death by a throng of Villalobos gang-members when him and his partner J. M. (only initials mentioned) answered a call one night. It's a sad story and it isn't really represented in *your* case files. Stop stalling and get to the MURDER AT THE HOOKAH PARLOUR.

Judit’s partner was beaten to death by gangsters, presumably while she watched. Technically, J.M. could be anyone, but basic narrative rules + a few other hints make me certain that it’s Judit. Most importantly, what she says about Harry after his disastrous call to the Precinct.

"We must help him." Minot looks down at her neatly polished black shoes. There is a quiet firmness to her voice when she speaks. 

"I just know we can't give up on him when he's at his weakest. He wouldn't..." The crowd in the room has started fidgeting uncomfortably. Someone's trying to slip out unnoticed.

I’m presuming here that what she’s going to say is “He wouldn’t give up on one of us”. (Side note: judging by the reactions of everyone else, they agree. Pre-canon Harry had his good moments and his bad with the squad).

Judit might be speaking from experience - we know that she’s only been with C-Wing for two months, but why did she transfer? Given how C-wing has been hemorrhaging members, it seems odd. If she was speaking from experience, then the most likely answer is that Harry helped her out after Mills’ death (first on the scene? Provided support? who knows) and Judit, who was now without a partner, decided to follow him to C-wing.

Between her gratitude to Harry and (probably) low standards for coworkers, she’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt more than anyone else who knows him, although depending on your actions you can burn through the good will - calling her the Horse-Faced Woman and asking if you’ve had sex will make her cold towards you.

She’s also aware of Harry’s drinking problem, but has more hope than Jean does - Jean will shoot down any hint that Harry’s changed, but if he’s stayed sober, Judit will hold onto hope that it’ll stick this time

You haven't been drinking, she thinks. So maybe this time...

(Perhaps it’s just because she’s known him for the least amount of time, but it’s still more hope than anyone else in his unit has for Harry).

It’s easy to miss Judit’s implied past with Harry, and assume her patience is naivety or because she’s a mom (which might be the case in a story written by lesser writers) but it’s something more complex than that, and a tiny hint at the better side of pre-canon Harry.

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 8

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N: Reader is AFAB. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Rough sex, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

In the weeks following Steve made sure your move was as easy and simple as possible. During the days he gave you free reign to reorganize and redecorate whatever you wanted, except for his office. During the nights he made sure to hold you tight and cuddle you as you fell asleep. You’d never felt more relaxed than when you were with his strong arms wrapped around you. 

After the dust settled from your move and redecoration, Steve suggested an art gallery visit to celebrate. You put on the dress you wore during your first art gallery date with him, the gift from Monica’s mothers. Part of you wonders if Steve knew, way back then, that you would eventually be living together. You know you certainly had no idea. It was amazing how much had changed for you since you crashed that party. 

Steve finds you getting ready and he smiles at you, eyes full of love and your heart flutters. He’s so good at schooling his expressions and body language that you treasure how genuine he is with you. 

“Are you ready, Hummingbird?”

“Just about. I’m guessing, given the late hour, it’ll be just the two of us at the gallery?”

“Correct. But don’t worry about it looking like a break in. I got the curator to let us in.”

“Thank you for that,” you chuckle. “I know you like the roleplay but I really do prefer the easy way.”

The gallery had a special theme for the month based around flora of all kinds. There were plenty of paintings based on native flora but the main event was a wing that had been filled with sculptures and made to look like a park. They called it the Garden of Wonders. Glass flowers, some made to look like they’d been encased in ice. Bronze trees with copper leaves, already showing signs of turning green. Marble lilac bushes where you could make out the individual petals. There were even small animal depictions mixed in to add to the ambiance. You felt like you were walking in a magical garden. 

Every bit was breathtaking.  

As was your custom, Steve let you take the lead. You would flit between pieces, occasionally staring, divining the most subtle of touches as he smiles at you. Steve never told you but after every visit he made sure word got to the various artists about all of the details you loved, noticed and appreciated. He never told you because he was worried it would temper your reactions or make you feel guilty for not noticing more. But he knew you’d appreciate the artists getting their due praise. 

Your happiness was probably the most important thing in the world for him. You’d never once taken advantage of his power or money. You supported his plans and ideals. You were so much stronger than you thought. He smiles fondly at the memory of how nervous you were when you’d been “caught’ crashing his party. How your eyes widened in surprise when he finally got you to take him up on his offer. How deliciously evil your smirk was when you showed his guests that you were his partner, not his charity case. 

True to your word, you never did tell him who it was that put those ideas in your head. He did figure it out, though, and had to agree that Carter and Lane’s faces of anger and frustration were a lot more fun than not inviting them ever again. He had to give it to you, you know how to do revenge right. You really made his social obligations that much more fun and enjoyable, making it easier for him to do his work, support his communities, keep his people paid and well taken care of. 

There were still moments you doubted, though you tried to hide them. Steve hated that you could still doubt yourself, or doubt his intentions. He hoped tonight would help allay some of those. 

Flitting through the Garden you pause at one of the pathways and blink. A small table had been set out. There was a small bouquet of purple roses with a card. Steve refrains from chuckling as he watches you circle the table, trying to figure out if it’s part of the display. Your eyes light up when you get close enough to see your first and last name on the card. You look to Steve and he nods as he moves behind you. 

Opening the card it reads, “turn around”. You do, confusion giving way to surprise as you see the open box in Steve’s hand. Inside is a gorgeous golden ring, made to look like a hummingbird holding a blue diamond. Your hand flies up to your face in shock as tears start forming in the corners of your eyes. You search his face for any indication he’s not serious or has hesitations. Of course you find none.  

“Y-you, you mean it, Steve?”

“I do, Hummingbird.”

You hold out your left hand and he gently places the ring on your finger. Of course it’s a perfect fit. Just like with the dress you’re wearing now, Steve has always been able to size you up. You smile, eyes full of happy tears, before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Thank you, Steve.”

“No thanks needed, Hummingbird. You saying ‘yes’ is all I need.”

The second you had gotten home he helped you out of your dress and started kissing every inch of you. He’d ended up not being able to wait for the bedroom and bent you over the back of the couch, smacking your butt-cheeks until they were sore and your pussy was dripping wet for him. He’d barely undone his zipper before shoving himself into you, making you cry out in pleasure at the stretch. 

“You always feel so good,” he grunts as he keeps slamming into you. “Always able to take me so well, like the good girl you are.” You can barely hear him over your own lewd moans. He reaches around your hips and starts playing with your pearl, making you cry out appreciatively. 

His other hand goes to your throat and moves so your back is right up against him. “Look so fucking pretty with that ring on your finger. Can’t wait to make it official. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” 

“Yes, please, Sir,” you pant. “Please mark me as yours.”

“So fucking pretty when you beg,” he nips at your skin. “Come for me, Hummingbird.” Your response is immediate and he groans as your walls clench around him. “Always feels so damn good,” he grumbles. His hips stutter as he finds his own release and he starts kissing along your back. “So good for me. So wonderful.”

He pulls out slowly and your whine is replaced by a gasp as he pushes his fingers into your pussy. 

“Not gonna let a single drop spill out,” he states. “Gonna mark you in every way, Hummingbird.”

“Yes, Sir,” you gasp. “Yes, please mark me with your come, Sir! Want everyone to know I belong to you!”

Instead of switching to aftercare mode Steve gets you to the bedroom and gently pushes you onto the bed. You proudly note that you’ve ruined his pants with your slick. Steve lays over you, one of his arms holding his weight, the other continuing to play with your oversensitive pussy. 

“Yes! Yes! YES,” you scream as Steve makes you come on his fingers yet again. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission, Hummingbird,” Steve snarls as he nips the skin on your neck. “You’re gonna have to make that up to me.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” you moan, fighting the urge to pull away from Steve’s hand that hasn’t stopped. You’re so sensitive it’s almost painful but Steve’s hands have always made you feel so good. So have his lips, his arms, his everything.

He stands up away from the bed, finally removing his fingers. You’re simultaneously grateful for the reprieve and missing the fullness his fingers gave you. 

“On all fours, facing me,” he orders and you move quickly to obey. He undresses and you let yourself ogle at his figure. You’re not surprised he’s already hard again as you wait for your next order, mouth open. “Always so eager for me,” he chuckles. 

“Yes, Sir. Just for you.”

Steve puts his hands on each side of your face as he shoves his erection into your mouth. You lick, hollow your cheeks, moan, whatever you can to make sure it feels good for him. You love when he uses your mouth so roughly you’re left hoarse for hours. He fucks your mouth with abandon as you focus your energy on keeping yourself from collapsing. You can feel yourself leaking down your thighs and it only makes everything feel more debauched, more erotic, more pleasurable. 

You can tell Steve’s ready to come and prepare yourself but he pulls out of your mouth. You whine and his hands guide your face to look at his. “No whining, Hummingbird. Only one of your holes is getting my come. Now get on your back.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” you croak as you move to obey. You’re slower than he’d like but he recognizes that you’re dazed and strokes himself as he watches you. 

As soon as you’re on your back he pushes your knees to your chest and thrusts into your pussy. You moan appreciatively, though he doesn’t give you time to adjust. His eyes are fixated on where your bodies meet and he’s relentless in his movements. One of his hands moves to your overly sensitive clit and starts rubbing. You gasp at the sensation and he groans as you clench down on him. 

It doesn’t take long for you to become a babbling mess of, “please, Sir,” “yes, SIr,” “thank you, SIr,” “need to come, Sir, please!” 

“Go ahead, Hummingbird, come all over my cock. Push me over the edge.”

“Thank you, Sir,” you scream as you fall apart. You’re so lost in your own pleasure you don’t hear Steve’s pants and grunts as he spills into you. 

The next morning you wake up in Steve’s arms and smile at the ring on your finger. You snuggle in closer to him and he sleepily kisses your hair.

"Good morning, Mrs. Rogers," he coos.

"We're not married yet," you gently chide.

"No, but we will be soon enough. And hopefully by then we can start looking into making a nursery." You feel your thighs clench at his words and he chuckles, "maybe should go a few more rounds to make sure it sticks."

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @icefrozendeadlyqueen @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @leryg0; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Why Luca and not Shapiro

You know what I was thinking, Sydluca truthers? If Syd accepts Shapiro’s offer AND gets a taste of Luca 😍 who is Carmy’s healed/sane version, like I mentioned here, Carmy won’t get to see them together, so what’s the point? I don’t wanna miss out on jelly Carmy! That kinda behavior would be such a gem on him! Give it to me!

Luca has to be his “who’sClaire?” Carmy has to give us his “I’m saying goodnight! moment”, which I’m guessing won’t be this elegant:

And Syd can’t keep on quitting every other season, C’mon! This time around she has to stay and cheat on her work husband, not leave him. She has to play it differently and stay close enough to Carmy for him too see her happy with someone else and suffer. That’s how we all win.

He will suffer if she leaves, of course, but it’ll be a clean cut. Not torture. Every day, seeing her with someone that can actually, make her willingly wanna leave him (unlike Shapiro that feels like pulling teeth to her). Someone like Luca that can take her away from him and succeed exactly at what he failed. And this is not an assumption, as many anti-Carmys are fantasying about with Shapiro. This is factual. We have already seen Luca in action in the kitchen and in life and even under stress, and he told us how he was under stress too. We know enough about him already not to have to guess how he would be like and whether or not he is Carmy 2.0. He’s not. He’s totally different, has a different energy.

So far what we know for sure about Shapiro is that he went to the restaurant and may or may not be linked to the review, as @berzattohugs points out here 🔗

and might be a bit “shady” as @unladyboss clocked here 🔗. And I wanna point out something else about him: Chef Terry is Future Syd, is her character’s progression, what Syd can and will become in the future. Chef Terry is Chef Shapiro’s Platonic partner, not his Syd bc she’s platonic and we all know that Syd and Carmy are not, I mean there is a sexual tension element with Sydcarmy that is just not there with Shaperry (yes, I just made that name up) BUT what is there between them is that she can keep him in line. We don’t know what Shapiro will be like off her leash and with more power, a power he probably always wanted, as under Chef Terry’s wing he was stuck as an eternal CDC, never EC, never owner, he was comfortable there, yes but being the go-getter and ambitious character he is, there’s no way that being EC never crossed his mind and he had to swallow the hard pill of never getting there. And lastly, we know this:

My point is: In this context Storer gave me this season I want torture! Not Carmy’s demise. I want him to suffer and have the chance to change and redeem himself, while she’s still around and then I want her to have to choose between 2 sexy chefs, not a hot piece of shit and Fuck you, Garrett!. Call me crazy.

Bonus track: I do appreciate that at least Syd gave Shapiro her real number though 🤭 that’s enough. Give all the rest to Luca, Syd. We got you.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[redheadspark]

Heeeeey! Hope u r having a wonderful day

From your prompt list, can I have Azriel from ACOTAR with prompt #12? Cuz I can totally see Azriel keeping his partner from getting up no matter if the other playfully struggles and I'm melting rn bc of that thought HAJSBDK

Do as you please I love ur writing, sorry for any disturbance I could cause w this, tysm take care🙏

A/N - I think this is beyond cute for Azriel! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Stay In

Summary - Azriel will make sure you two enjoy your morning together

Warnings - Just some fuff :)

“Az..Az I need to get up today,”

“Says who?”

“Says our High Lord since I have a meeting with him in 30 minutes, as do you,” 

The body next to you grumbled a bit, sheets shifting under and over you while the softer breeze from the early morning seeped into the master bedroom.  Even the softer sounds of the leaves rustling in the tree right outside along the cobblestone street.  You could breathe in the softness of the leaves and the cool air, along with the scent that your mate had along his skin and against the pillow that you were sharing together.  If it was up to him, he would only have one pillow for your entire king-sized bed since he knew you would end up in his arms anyway with your head on his chest and arms around him.

The ever-brooding Spymaster of Night Court was nothing but mush when it came to you.

“No, come on. Let’s get up—“ You were starting to say as you were attempting to get up from the bed, but Azriel’s arms around your waist were keeping you in bed still.  Of course, he would barely use any of your own strength when It came to you, you’ve seen him in heated battles and at the helm of wars.  Yet he treated you like a dainty flower, never gentle with his scarred fingers and the lingering touches of his lips along your skin.  You never had to be afraid of him, not when you knew deep down he would rather hurt himself than you.  

“Rhysand doesn’t need us this morning, it’s only a formality meeting,” Azriel said along your backside as he drew you back into the bed once again, you chuckling as his lips were kissing the back of your neck over and over, “It’ll probably be no more than an hour long before they rattle on about something unimportant,”

“Yet you thrive at these meetings,” You retorted as you turned around and stared at him.  His hair was disheveled and against the satin pillow, wings sprawled out behind him with a small lick of his shadows against his backside, the sheet pooled along his lower waist to show his tan skin and muscular chest.  He merely grinned, making his eyes that were already bright even brighter from the small amount of sun pouring into the room now.

“I do, but I think today we should have a day off from meetings,” he commented, moving his arms from around your waist to rub your hip with his fingers, “I’m sure both the High Lord and High Lady would understand two less people at the House of Wind,”

You had to smirk at him, seeing him being all pliant was something that seemed more common in later days.  There was no real threat in Night Court, the Battle against King Hybern was now the stuff of legend, nothing that was fresh and new.  The people were safe again, only remembering that gruesome time as a mere story and cautionary tale.  The rest of the Courts felt the same, and peace came over like a rolling fog.  With peace came new chapters in our lives. 

Especially for you and Azriel, who finally got married under the falling stars of Winter Solstice. 

“Come on, we need a day to stay in bed,” He urged you as his fingers were still tracing your hips with a singular finger, “The weather is perfect for sleeping in, don’t you think?”

You paused, looking over to the window and seeing the rolling clouds that came from the direction of the mountains.  Azriel watched you with his usual smirk, seeing that you were thinking it over before sighing in defeat.

“Victory!” He hummed as you laid back down in bed with him.  You chuckled and slapped his chest, hearing him laugh as he tucked you in his arms again, “Honestly, this meeting is not going to be important anyway.  Just some formalities on budgeting and the upcoming trip to Summer Court to talk negotiations.”

Glaring at him, you spoke, “How do you know?”

“High Lady Feyre,” He replied in a shrug, you looking at him in shock as he grinned widely, “I may or may not have asked her what was going to be discussed, and I may or may not have asked you and me to skip the meeting since we’re not involved,”

You had to give him credit for this, without you knowing anything about it.  He would surprise you every once in a while, and it was not like him being the Spymaster of Night Court and someone who was always on his toes and ready to fight and defend.  But these rare flickers of surprise and love that came from him, made you love him ten times more.  

Leaning back to halfway lay on top of him, seeing his gaze stay on yours as you kissed his nose playfully, “Thank you, Az,”

“Anything for you,” He replied in a murmur, leaning in to kiss you softly over and over as another chill came into the room.  You shivered, feeling Azriel move some of the sheets up to cover you both as you were still kissing one another and letting the morning roll on.  With no meeting to go to, nothing to worry about or rush to, it all seemed too good to be true.  

There was nothing better than doing nothing, with the love of your life. 

The End. 

September Prompt Session

[hawkdefender]

M!Reader x Great Hawk + M!Reader + M!Robin

The day seemingly started well.

Lunch was uninterrupted. No Witery in the halls to bother you or try to undress you while going to class. No Kylar to weirdly look at you or try to talk to you while somehow being unable to do so. Not to mention you came to class with Robin, so it wasn’t too bad, especially not after last night.

“So… about that… hawk you mentioned…”

You sign, remembering your little slip up. Having two partners, of which one is a freaking harpy, is a bit hard to explain to someone like Robin. He never saw the things you did, the dogboys in the street, the centaurs on Alex’s farm. It was a unique thing that not everyone saw, and you were one of those who did. 

“He’s a harpy. And he’s very nice. I get it’s hard to understand, but please, trust me he’s a harpy and very nice. Maybe I should take you to the Hookah parlour sometimes…” The more you went there, the less mixing your brain did with everything.

“Yea, no, I’m good.”

“No, seriously. It’ll help. I can take you to him if you want to.” Maybe not the greatest idea, since he didn’t seem to enjoy the thought of you having more than one partner. You explained to him that you love both of them and that it’s not something odd for people like you to do that, but since you were now also a harpy with your wings and tail, he probably didn’t see you like a landbound as he said.

“I’m still having a hard time understanding it… But you do seem happy with him, so I guess it’s not that bad. Even if your interests are… well, interesting.” Robin did try to brush it off, but it was obvious that he was a bit taken back still, probably even a bit uncomfortable. It’s not that you could try to change his mind in the long run.

You sat down on your chair, starting to think about why you even came to school. You have the best grades, skipping classes wouldn’t do much when it came to your teachers since you would always pass the exams when you had them. Though, going with Robin like this was a good way of still maintaining some more relationship outside of dates you’d have with him. WIth all the trying to collect enough money to pay Baily for the both of you, doing a lot of work all the time wasn’t something you enjoyed and it took out a lot of your time. It’s why skipping school wasn’t too bad of a thing.

History at least wasn’t that bad. It also made you remember that knowing all of this was the only reason you were able to meet your harpy. Who knew if that would’ve happened if it wasn’t for this class. Sometimes, you were grateful for being a good student. Winter wasn’t that bad of a teacher too.

As you listened to what was said, sometimes writing down interesting things for later, everything seemed to go normal.

Until someone screamed at the window, alarming the whole class that something was there.

At first, you thought it was someone just walking around nude or half naked. It wouldn’t be surprising for this town, but still understandable to have such a reaction from some people. Maybe someone else being weird too, it wouldn’t be surprising.

However, no. It was your mate. Banging on the window.

What even happened there?

He’d never done that before. There were situations where you’d go without visiting him for a while, so it wasn’t that he was ever upset over it before. Why now? Did something change suddenly?

“Alright kids, let’s get out of the class. Probably would be good to call someone to remove that hawk away. Geez, how do they even outgrow like this? I’ve never seen something like this before.” Winter was getting out all the children out of the classroom. While everyone was too worried about something happening and quickly leaving the room, you hid underneath your desk, hoping that they’d close the door once they were out.

You were full of luck then, as the door was closed, no one noticing you were not with them.

Revealing yourself, you walked towards the window opening it and thus making your harpy stop knocking on the window.

“What happened? What made you come here?”

“Husband away for too long,” he simply said. Unlike the rest, you saw a pretty harpy that loved you very much and not a hawk.  

“It gets lonely up there. Pains me to sing alone.”

Truly, this was a first. Maybe he’d just been a lot more patient before and was now losing that patience? You can’t tell for sure.

“I’m sorry. Once this is done, I’ll come back okay? I can’t leave until a bit longer. I promise I'll be back today!” Maybe you can skip swimming. And considering you doubt Winter would want to continue class after this, you can just go straight for the road. Your wings will carry you faster than your legs too.

“Husband promises?”

“Husband promises.”

That did seem to calm him down. He was already not knocking on the window, but now he seemed even more relaxed. At least that was solved. 

There was a screech before he got off, flying into the sky. Hopefully he’ll be at the tower soon.

“Was that… the hawk?”

You flinched at the sound of Robin’s voice. Did he hide too? You weren’t paying much attention to who was leaving so you probably missed him staying as he probably hid as well.

“Yes, that was him. He’s never done this before so I was surprised. He really missed me that much. I haven’t been at the tower in a while, so I guess it did make sense. Still, it was uncalled for.”

“He’s uh… very big for a hawk. I didn’t imagine him like that, to be honest.” Robin was like the others, surprised at his size. To you it was nothing odd, but for those who weren’t aware enough, he was a very big hawk. 

“I think that when I’m back from my visit at the tower I should take you to the Hookah parlour. No way I’m gonna listen to you call my harpy a hawk again!”

“H-hey! I’m not wrong,” Robin cried. “Still, it was a bit odd seeing him so… close. I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

He was reluctant to admit it, but who wouldn’t? Knowing your partner was in love with a harpy would be a hit to anyone, but Robin was handling it practically well.

“You know, maybe if I bring you there you can become a harpy like us too~”

“Don’t tease me like that!”

You did stop with it, knowing you two should probably get out of the classroom. 

It did make you happy to know he was being more at peace with your other partner. Harvesting a happy relationship was important and his understanding meant a lot. 

You both sneaked out of the classroom, and in the end ended up leaving the school while holding hands. You’d walk with him to the orphanage and then get ready for your trip to the moor. 

And with all that, it was a sunny day. What a lovely time.

[isos-laptop-that-we-stole]

Hello Tumbler! Uh, is that how an intro works? I’m 307, and I made an account on this site because I saw that Isopod visited it a lot and I think it would be fun to have :0 I’m sharing this other with the other longterm wing kids… I should probably tell them that. Add more later! Buh-bye!

Hey. Uh. Arven here. Tri said I could post art on here, I might post paintings. Probably only going to hoard writing tips and aesthetic pictures, supposedly that’s what Isopod used this website for when I was their age and that sounds pretty fun? I suppose?

307 back again! You guys can call me Tri, most do! I’m just a fun happy creature, I collect plushies and uh…. Hang out with my friends! Yeah! I SHOULD GET MY BOYFRIEND TO MAKE HIS INTRO I’M OFF TO DO THAT

Tri is real excited about this, I’m having her type stuff out because the keyboard is too warm right now… anyways, my name is Celsius, call me whatever, I like roller coasters, architechture, whatever old scifi books I can get my paws on, and Tri, my wonderful partner! God I- HEY DON’T ADD MY GUSHING TO THIS I CAN SEE YOU GIGGLING AND TYPING IT

Mimi here! I’m gonna use this to find fandom friends, post edits, y’know, be a real internet kid! I might try posting music here too… we’ll see!!!! One of these days I’m gonna get everyone their own little sets of borders and stamps and silly graphics but it’s 1 am and Tri’s staring at me with that “please hurry up so I can pass this to the next room” face so BAI!!!!! （＾ω＾）

Ossi here. Uh… I’ll use this? Maybe? What is this thing- hmm, Chai’s telling me it’s a social media, and that I can find sewing patterns and recipies… cool? Chai’s turn to write!

My name is Chai and I do NOT want to fucking write on this dumb blog that 307 is setting up or whatever. If I do ever post it’ll be over stuff like… I dunno, my knife collection? And my charcoal sketches maybe. But that’s UNLIKELY! DO NOT GET YOUR HOPES UP!

(OOC: HEY HI!!!! Corv here, a few rules about this blog: THESE OCS ARE TEENS! NO INNAPROPRIATE STUFF, PG13 AT BEST! This blog may contain posts about fictional medical malpractice/abuse, trauma, mild gore… if you can’t take that, it’s ok! We’ll be triggertagging the shit out of those posts, and you can always just not read this blog if that’s not your vibe!)

(if you want to send asks, please clarify which character/s they’re for! Askbox is in fact open!)

(blog theming info will be added here when we yknow. Get to it.)

[that-one-i-think]

I hate that I’m seeing people actively fall for the trump propaganda because he’s brought back tiktok as if he isn’t the reason for the initial ban??

it’s so weird, and uncomfortable. Like these will be conspiracy theorists who see this as a good thing and not a weird little PR move. How can you distrust the government always but not when he’s giving you the little propaganda app back???

the apps also seemingly partnered with Meta now, as if the opinions on there weren’t rancid enough. Now it’ll just flood with right-wing propaganda, or become even more rife with Ai content.

1. The tiktok thing is actually a very old political tactic that has been going on for decades, and very few people have actually fallen for it this time. While you may see some, a lot of it is jokes or utter bewilderment, I have seen a shit ton more people claim that Kendrick saved tiktok, which is objectively true. He saved tiktok, we all know this. You have to take it with a grain of salt and also understand that this might be the only good thing to come out of Trumps presidency so people are gonna make it weird.

But American politicians have been pulling shit like this forever, with one of the more know examples being how "allegedly" one of our president elect held off on a prisoner exchange u til after he was in office. Meaning his first action in office was allowing American soldiers to come home. Utterly despicable.

Also, the reason why tiktok was taken away in the first place was due to the fact it spread information and was actually very anti-propaganda. I do not have the personal time to get into all of it but tiktok played a MASSIVE role in a lot of the BLM movement during that time and people on there currently constantly bring up the Gaza issues. Tiktok is only really a propaganda machine if you are already subscribed to the propaganda, like most other sites.

2. Tiktok isn't actually connected to Meta, that's not the case. What Facebook has done is the exact same thing Snapchat and Insta did years ago, which is just making it easier to content share between platforms. All of the "it's being bought by meta" amd stuff are just rumors, they are just becoming somewhat cross compatible which is something Facebook was already doing before the ban was suggested.

Also, there is probably going to be more AI content but no more than the incline it's already going at. Cause as lucky as AI content is, there is no true way to get rid of it right now and it's cheap for people to make. AI creators are as lazy as they are uncreative.

[sparking-steps]

Sparking-Steps' Acquisitions Log, entry 2: A far too exciting entry into Skyrim.

Much less precedes this passage than the last. This time a reddish, circular stain adorns the top of the page, inside the circle in small handwriting "The scaled one forgot to close their book! All will know the Fey Lux was here!" is written along with a small winged stick figure that seems to be laughing.

Well, shit. My little trip over the Jeralls was far, far more eventful than I was hoping it would be and it turns out that I might have accidentally fallen face first into a major historical event. I wasn’t intending to use these entries to talk about events like this, but honestly this is justified.

To start the story from where I left off, it turns out the route I was taking wasn’t as safe or unpatrolled as I thought it was. I knew it was a risk to cross the border without proper paperwork, but delaying the trip for the month it would’ve taken to actually get all of that filled out, signed and paid for would have been excruciatingly boring. So I was caught by an Imperial patrol and, well, they didn’t take any excuses. To make matters worse I had run into a group of them that were just about to hold an execution due to one of their prisoners being the damned leader of the Stormcloaks himself!

So there I was, unable to successfully bargain with the somehow handsome soldier with my fate in his hands, about to get my head chopped off, when the worst possible miracle happens and a DRAGON ATTACKS THE TOWN WE WERE IN!!!! A FUCKING DRAGON! THE FIRST DRAGON SPOTTED ON MUNDUS IN MILLENIA AND IT PREVENTED MY OWN DEATH BY MERE MOMENTS! Is some god playing a prank? Is Sheogorath laughing it up on his throne? Was Mephala soaking up my fear in that moment? Gods.

So I was able to escape with the help of the previously mentioned somewhat handsome soldier, kind one he is, I hope he does well in his war. I can’t say the same of most of that town, Helgen it was called. I went through the place later, it’s just entirely ruined. Gods above though, dragons are back after all this time. Beasts gone for so long that some people thought they were myths. I’m fairly certain there’s a prophecy from one of the elder scrolls on this happening, so it’s probably very likely that we’re about to start living in very, very historically interesting times. Gods damn it.

Well, none of that matters though, I still have a job to do and current history has only a little to do with it. The possible end of the world at the hand of an ancient draconic tyrant isn’t going to fucking stop me from doing the job I’ve been wanting to do for years! I AM GOING TO BE A PROFESSIONAL ARCHEOLOGIST AND NOTHING CAN STOP ME! Take that damned overgrown dragonlings.

So, besides my near execution and the possible start to the end of Mundus, I have actually had a nice time here in Skyrim so far. The people have been kind enough, I’ve even found a traveling partner, a fellow scholar named Lucien. A rather charming fellow, if a little unprepared for the exploring lifestyle. Of course, I’d be a hypocrite if I dismissed him for that, I’m not exactly too prepared for actual life and death combat either. Fortunately my dueling skills are carrying me so far. Regardless, Lucien seems eager to learn and I’m eager to learn with him.

Lastly before I actually get to what this journal is supposed to be used for, I have made it to the Auryen’s museum and, I have to say, the old Mer has outdone himself. This place is magnificent! It’ll take years to actually fill this place, it’s absolutely massive! Even the housing that he arranged for me in the place is immaculate! I genuinely don’t know what to say in regards to all of this, this is perfect! The fact that I’m getting this living space and an actual pay is more than I could’ve ever dreamed for! Goodbye loud sleepless nights in university dorms and inns, hello COMFORT!

But, well, on to what I’m actually writing this damned thing for, the log.

ACQUISITIONS LOG #1:

Alcoholic Drinks, Various: For a display on the more unique types of alcohol native to Skyrim. Most of these are various regional liquors and meads from the holds I've visited. One of them is a rather odd magical alcohol by the name of "Daedra Drink” that can render the imbiber invisible. Not sure who made this or where, bought a bottle of it from one of the inns I visited. Bit of an odd one.

Amulets of Birthsigns: A small collection of amulets found amongst several of Skyrim's standing stones that represent the various birthsigns. They seem to be enchanted in ways that match the signs' blessings. I might keep the Mage stone's amulet on me for the time being, it's not my sign but the enchantment is useful.

Amulets of the Nine: Amulets showing devotion to Arkay and Stendarr. Not to my taste in terms of gods, honestly. I don’t have time to worry about death and Stendarr’s devotees are completely overzealous in their pursuit of putting down Daedric cults.

Amulets of Ancient Nordic Make: I'm fairly certain these don't have to do with the Dragon Cult specifically, but they do match certain etchings in Dragon Cult barrows. Before the creation of the Dragon Cult there were cults dedicated to the veneration of these various other animals, so likely these were cultural holdovers from that brought into the Dragon Cult's beliefs.

Ancient Nordic Boots: Unfortunately this was the only armor I could salvage from Bleak Falls Barrow's draugr. The rest fell apart upon being removed or were fused to the undead cultists' skin. Still, a good find.

Ancient Nordic Weaponry: Fortunately (or not considering they were swinging them at Lucien and I) the weapons the draugrs were using were far more intact than their armor! Despite their age, these weapons retain much of their ornate embellishments. Nordic culture commonly adding embellishments to its weapons and armor seems to be a trait that has carried over the ages.

Art Pieces of Various Types, Style and Origins: This is a very broad category, but I simply don’t have much to say about the things within it. What can I really say about a fancy drinking horn, a wine glass made of emerald or a statuette of a sabrecat? Ugh, if my mother was here she could go on for hours about these things, I never did inherit the family’s mind for making or critiquing artwork. I suppose there’s one notable thing in this, a statuette of a dragon. Remarkably accurate given that dragons only recently came back, I’ll have to see if there’s any way of finding the original creator.

Backpacks, Various: Not sure why Auryen wanted these. Some of them have interesting enchantments I suppose.

Battleaxe of Hatred: Alright, the first (possibly of many) artifact I've collected! Not a very prolific one, though its status as such has been magically verified. Based on the records I could find of it in the museum's library, the earliest known appearance of this axe was at a store selling weapons and armor in the Imperial City around the time of the Oblivion Crisis. I'm not sure how a group of bandits came into possession of this item, though their proximity to Skyrim's border with Cyrodiil implies it likely came here via conventional means (aka being carried). The appearance of the weapon has changed from that of a Cyrodilic battle axe of that time period to modern Skyrim's style of battle axe, though the iron is now colored red as if stained with blood. Notably the enchantment has changed entirely, originally sapping one's vitality, it now creates a potent fear reaction in the people it strikes. Strong enough to send summoned entities back to their plane of Oblivion. Despite the name, it seems this axe has become somewhat pacifist, scaring people away rather than fighting them.  (Note: see if we can find out if The Fighting Chance still operates, they might have further information on where this weapon originally came from.)

Books, Various: A big batch of books that I’ve picked up for use in the museum’s library. A good chunk of these were donated from the Jarl of Whiterun’s own collection, generous man he is. I’ve skimmed through a few, but I didn’t have the time to sit down and read any during my travels. Not yet at least. There’s no way in Oblivion that I’ll be able to spend enough time to read through the entire library, but hopefully time will permit enough to read some of them. For now though a good few of these can make good reference material when researching new artifacts.

Capes and Cloaks, Various: Matching ones to be used in the various armor displays. Others are just ones I've collected because I quite like capes.

Cheeses of Various Kinds: Just a whole lot of cheese, both local and foreign varieties. Also a few cheese-based dishes. These aren’t for the museum, collecting these is a personal hobby. Don't ask why.

Dagger, Possibly From Oblivion: First off, I have no real proof of the claim of this dagger’s origin. It was told to me by the donator, the priest of Arkay that runs Whiterun’s hall of the dead. He did not explain where he acquired it from, however. The most notable thing about this dagger is its enchantment. It can trap souls, but unlike other enchanted items it does so without needing to ever be recharged. It is an oddly shaped dagger, having twin blades that curve towards each other. A design that seems remarkably inefficient, so along with the soul trapping enchantment, a ritualistic purpose seems likely. If I was to make a bet, this might’ve come to Whiterun during the Oblivion Crisis. Possibly being left there by cultists or Daedric invaders. Possibly an artifact, though that’s hard to prove without further knowledge on it.

Denstagmer's Ring: One of several artifact rings found on the body of an explorer at Silent Moons Camp. The exact origin of this ring is a total mystery, even the name “Denstagmer” brings up no leads whatsoever. The first notable records of its locations were when the Nerevarine found it a bit over 200 years ago in the Falas ancestral tomb in Vvardenfell, so it's possible that the family had a history with it. The last living Dwemer, Yagrum Bagarn, mentioned the ring in his book, Tamrielic Lore, though there wasn't much he could say about it. No changes to the ring’s enchantment or its appearance have been noted. Best guesses for how it made its way to Skyrim are either that a refugee from Morrowind or that this dead explorer, this Malrus fellow, must've been brought into the province.

Dolls, Enchanted: A pair of dolls, one a blacksmith and one an executioner. The both of them are enchanted to enhance skills relevant to the doll's occupation. Using a forge and wielding large weaponry respectively. Odd little things. Auryen mentioned he believes they're part of a larger set, which makes me wonder who made and distributed them.

Doll, Unenchanted: A completely unremarkable doll to be used in the enchanted doll display. I can’t say I like the look of this toy, it’s cute I suppose but the design is a bit lacking. Perhaps some tiny clothes could improve the look of it.

Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow: A map of various dragon burial mounds throughout Skyrim carved into a stone tile. This must’ve been made in the late days of the Dragon Cult, after the (apparently temporary) defeat of Alduin. I'll have to visit these sites at some point! The actual artifact has been requested by the Jarl of Whiterun, so unfortunately the museum will have to make due with a replica. I don’t know why the Jarl’s court mage couldn’t just take a recreation of it, but I suppose this is going to be used for something tactical so he likely wants the information to be exact.

Dragon Claw Key, Golden: An interesting artifact of the Dragon Cult. They used ornate claw shaped keys like this to seal the innermost sanctums of their burial tombs, typically along with an ornate door locked with a puzzle. Some theorize that these keys function more as a way to lock whatever is on the other side of the door inside, however, due to Bleak Falls Barrow having an alternative exit to that chamber I feel that theory falls flat. The current owners of this key did not want to part with it, so the museum will have to make due with a replica.

Elven Style Armor, Modified: Elven armor previously owned by a member of a now disbanded gang of bandits called the Crimson Dirks. The armor itself seems like a more practical variant on Skyrim's normal style of elven armor, including leather sleeves and pouches.

Faeries (!!!!): FAIRIES! By the Hist, I don’t think I’ve ever actually met Fey before! What fascinatingly pretty little things they are! Specifically, these ones are Nixads, a small humanoid insect-like being with a pair of wings on their backs. Absolute joys to be around they are, pranksters though. One of them stole my pen while I was taking a break from writing earlier and it took me an hour to find the damned thing again. The little bastard was giggling the whole time, said they thought my break should be a little longer. Why exactly they are coming to the museum is an interesting point. There’s a superstition amongst Skyrim’s sailors and fishers that having a Fey with you is good luck, that you’ll either have safe travels or good hauls, respectively. This has led to a tradition of caging Fey in modified lanterns, as they also shed a small amount of light due to some sort of magical aura. The museum was only looking for the lanterns for an exhibit on that cultural practice, but upon letting these two out of their prisons and telling them about the museum, they seem to have found the idea of coming here interesting. I’ve spoken with Auryen and after discussing it, we’ve decided to make a space for them in the Natural History Hall. They’re free to leave if they wish, but we’ll give them safety, food and a space for themselves if they want to stay. Plus, it gives us a chance to educate people on Tamerials’ Faeries on those Fey’s own terms! Side note, as an unfortunate side effect of the Nordic superstitions around them, I have found a Fairy’s corpse in the wreck of a sunken ship in Lake Ilinalta. We’ll ask the other Fay how they should be given a burial.

Fish, Various: To be added to the Natural Science Hall's aquarium. Side note, I can see why some people enjoy fishing, it's quite relaxing. I might have to participate in it more.

Fishing Equipment: Not sure why this was asked for, to be honest. Fuck it though, if Auryen wants a fishing pole I’ll get him a fishing pole. He’s the one paying me.

Fossils, Various: Found while digging through a few veins of ore found throughout Skyrim's landscape. A record of Skyrim’s history set into stone. None of these ones are too interesting by themselves from what I understand, though one depicts a fish eating another one, which is somewhat rare I think.

Gauntlets Made for Fist Fighting: An eccentric customization of the usual styles of armor in Skyrim. Probably better to use than a normal set of gauntlets given they are just as sturdy and can still hold an enchantment just as well. I will be honest though, I can’t imagine myself actually resorting to punching someone. Close ranged spells are far more effective.

Guard’s Armor (Whiterun and Falkreath): Donated by the Jarls of those two holds. Nothing too interesting here but I felt they were meaningfully different enough from the other sets of armor to justify their own entry. Hopefully I can get sets of armor from every hold as easily as these two.

Gemstones and Minerals, Various: These are being collected for a large display of Skyrim's various minerals within the Natural Science Hall. This is not my area of expertise, though they are very pleasantly shiny.

Lunar Weapons: A unique set of weapons made at an ancient ruin called Sleeping Moons Camp. The forge seems to channel some sort of power from the two moons to enchant what would normally be mundane weapons. What a unique ruin it is! The forge itself seemed like a recent addition and the bandits around the ruins did as well. However, despite the book near the forge documenting the creation of these weapons and the presence of those weapons as proof that it does work, I find myself unable to actually make this thing work. I’m unsure as to why. This place requires further investigation.

Magical Oil Lamp: An oil lamp that seems to contain some sort of entity that grants minor boons upon request. Doesn't seem to want to leave the lamp, nor does it seek payment. Not sure what exactly the entity is, though I feel it's unlikely for it to be a Daedra. Honestly it is fully possible that it isn’t inhabited at all and the entity itself is just a trick made up through a bit of enchantment. I asked it for "Knowledge" and it gave me a pile of books, useful little thing. A donation from Solitude's Temple of the Divines.

Magical jars: A small group of magically sealed jars with what seem to be enchanted toys inside. Things like a tiny ship or flying dragon. Odd little things these are. Not sure who made them or where they all came from, but the common design of the jar itself implies a singular source. An oddity that hopefully will be figured about eventually, but isn’t too much of a priority.

Mundane Weapons and Armor of Various Styles: Primarily these are made of iron or steel, though a few other kinds are in this pile. There's something to be said of the ornate style that the Nords of Skyrim add to even their most mundane armors. I quite like the horns they add to their helmets, perhaps out of my own vanity. My horns are quite nice and honestly I should say that more often. Preening aside, I quite like the steel armors I've seen. There are a few more notable examples amongst this list, those will get their own entries.

Orcish Style Armor, Modified: Another set of armor from that aforementioned disbanded bandit gang. Apparently this one was made by the gang’s resident smith, who had fallen in with another gang after the group split up, though she seemed to dislike her current circumstances. This set of armor was, once again, modified from the normal style. Replacing some of the orichalcum metal with leather and fur, seemingly to keep the wearer warmer in Skyrim’s cold climate.

Raven Statuette Made of Ebony: At a glance this seems mundane, but this seems to have some connection to Daedra worship. I couldn’t sense any actual enchantments on it, but something about it feels just slightly odd. I know that’s not exactly a professional way to see these kinds of things, but that’s just the way I feel about it. I’ll ask a few others what they think of this statuette before I turn it in though, just to make sure. My first instinct is to assume it was made to honor Nocturnal, though ravens and ebony aren't symbols unique to her. It would be a perfect fit for Ebonarm, while his animosity for the Daedric Princes is well known it’s not exactly known for sure where he falls amongst the pantheons so this could have been made in honor of him.

Reconstructed Tapestry of Ancient Nordic Design: I was able to recreate this from fragments found within Bleak Falls Barrow (I need to find a shortening of that name). It's remarkable that the fabric stayed mostly intact over the centuries.

Ring of Transmutation: Another of the artifact rings found alongside the body of the explorer, Malrus. This one is less historied than the other though, similar to Battleaxe of Hatred it made its first known appearance in Cyrodilic store during the Oblivion Crisis, specifically one in Bravil. No major changes, though the gemstone set in the ring is larger than previously recorded. No known history before that time, similar to the battleaxe. I'll have to see if the store it was recorded as being in, The Warlock's Luck, is still around so we might be able to check their records. As for how it got here, the explorer Malrus is the most likely reason that I can think of.

Severed heads: What? Who made these little display cases for these severed heads? Why have I found several of them? Why did Auryen ask for them?

Shells and Corals: Another collection of things for the Natural History hall. Nothing much to say here, though the fact that I found coral in the stomachs of a group of slaughterfish in Lake Ilinalta is probably odd. Once again, not my area of expertise, but I'm fairly certain coral doesn't naturally occur in freshwater. Do slaughterfish swim upriver like salmon? I suppose their presence in both fresh and saltwater implies so.

Taxidermy Supplies: Various animal hides and other bits and pieces to be used in to make some taxidermied animals to display in the Natural History Hall. Auryen is pretty skilled at making taxidermy, I wonder where he learned it.

Varla Stone, Flawed: One of the Ayleids’ star stones, a small fragment of Aetherius itself fallen from the heavens down to Mundus. These minor magical miracles that were used for, of all things, lighting a room. I’ve been in a couple Ayleid ruins and honestly I do have to admit that the light from these is certainly very pleasing. Perhaps the wild elves had a decent idea there after all. This specific stone is a bit clouded, making it not as useful as a more perfect specimen, but that’s not to say it isn’t useful, these little things are perfectly capable of containing and releasing souls, for example.

Weatherward Circlet: Another artifact ring, though this one was a donation from Whiterun's hall of the dead. How did that crypt manage to come across two separate artifacts? I suppose this ring might have just been on one of the deceased and no next of kin claimed it. As for the ring's history, it isn't the most storied but it was owned by the Hero of Kvatch! Apparently she had been given it as payment for a job, the exact details aren't recorded so I assume it must have been something someone didn't want known. Interesting, though that unfortunately means that researching its origin is likely a dead end. As for appearance and enchantments, there doesn't seem to be any recorded change.

Welkynd Stone: As with the previous entry on varla stones, but much more powerful. These things were used all over Ayleid cities of the past for all sorts of purposes, not just lighting. In the modern day these things are amazing tools for magecraft. A magically inclined individual can draw upon the power within one of these and be filled to the brim with magicka. A shame that the method of growing these was lost with the Ayleid civilization, the feats of magecraft that could be accomplished with a large amount of these would be incredible.

Whiterun silver proof coin: For a display on Tamriel's various currencies. Look, I am not a numismatist, I have very little room in my head to be interested about coins. They are shiny and can be spent to acquire nice things, that's about the end of my thoughts on any coins minted in the last half millennia. I suppose this one has a nice design, very swirly and pleasing to the eye. Definitely nicer than a septim.

[duchesschameleon]

day one (a kazansky for america fic)

summary: day one in the oval office for the Kazansky Administration rating: G for everyone warnings: none read this fic on ao3

a long awaited third installment in the kazansky for america series, my top gun west wing au. thank you as always to @qvid-pro-qvo for the beta. enjoy!

“Well, this is certainly the grandest office we’ve moved into,” Carole says, head on a swivel as she looks around the west wing.

“Probably going to be the last one we move into,” Ice adds on, leading the way through the hallways and towards the Oval Office. He tries to ignore the historical significance of this office, of this position, and treat it like any other move-in day, but it’s difficult. Everywhere he looks, there’s a piece of history staring back at him.

“Oh, Mr. President, I’d like to see the day you actually retire from work. You’ll keep doing something and needing an office, even after this,” Carole retorts as they wind through to the outer Oval. “You’ll be doing something and Maverick and I will be right by your side, helping out however we can.”

Ice rolls his eyes but stays quiet. He knows Carole is right. “You know it’ll be Mav’s idea, whatever comes next.” Carole nods her head, conceding the point.

“Hey, how about we focus on getting in here and doing at least four years of work before we plan on what’s next?” a voice says, right behind him. Ice stiffens at the sudden closeness of another body, only relaxing when he recognizes his partner.  

“Hmm, but before we can do any work here, I believe we have some balls to attend,” Ice says, leaning back slightly into Mav, wanting to be close to him. He spares a moment of relief and wonder that this is his life. He still can’t believe he gets this, gets to have this incredible man by his side, and in this office with him.

Mav makes a face, looks at Ice apologetically. “Yeah, there’s actually a little work to be done before we party, Mr. President.”

Ice’s spine straightens instinctually at that, something about Mav saying it that triggers the reaction. It’s his title now, officially. Forever. A title that now refers to him, not a warning that someone’s coming he needs to impress and be on his best behavior for.

No, now he has to be on his best behavior and do the best job of his life. All eyes are on him.

“That’s gonna take some getting used to,” he mutters before shaking his head and meeting his partner’s gaze. His partner’s, his chief of staff’s, proud gaze. “Alright, then let’s get to work.”

The afternoon becomes a blur, senior staff coming in and out of the Oval, each of them pausing for a moment to look around and be a little awed by the room. If he wasn’t still adjusting to this being his office now, he would have laughed at them. Especially Bradley.

“Kinda crazy, isn’t it?” he says to his pseudo-nephew and deputy chief of staff once they’ve wrapped up their conversation.

“Kinda?” Bradley snorts. “It’s completely crazy. Can’t believe we’re finally here.” He pauses and looks around before meeting Ice’s gaze again. “Dad would have loved to see this. Woulda been telling us he told us so, that you would be here, and then have some ideas about decorating the place.”

Ice laughs, picturing Goose circling the room completely at ease. He could just imagine the suggestions he’d have to bring some relaxed, California flair to the Oval Office.

“We’d have palm fronds in here within a week, probably less if he got your mom in on it.”

Bradley chuckles, shaking his head. “Within a day. She’d never be able to say no to him.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” 

They stand there, soaking in the room and thinking about the family who isn’t with them today.

“Mr. President, you’ve got -“ Mav pauses, seeing Bradley. “Hey, kiddo. Everything good?”

Bradley nods. “We’re good, I just had to see the Oval and go over something. I’m leaving now though.” He turns back to Ice, “Thank you, Mr. President.”

Ice just nods, a little overwhelmed hearing Bradley address him so formally. They’d tried to be as professional as possible throughout the campaign, but late nights and exhaustion from being on the road would creep in and no one stopped them from being more familiar with each other. Now, there was a constant reminder of his title all around them, a stark reminder of the position he now held.

It’ll take some getting used to the formality of the office, he thought again.

“Mr. President, you good?” Mav asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“I’m good, Pete,” he says, turning and smiling at his husband. “Just adjusting to the office. The title.”

Pete huffs out a laugh. “That’s what the transition period was for, ease you into the title and the office. Make sure we’re all prepared.”

“Yeah, well, talking about it and actually being here in the Oval and having everyone - including you and Bradley - addressing me so formally, it’s different.”

“This whole thing is different, Tom,” Pete says, dropping the title to make Tom really look at him and pay attention to his words. “This is the first day of the last job you are ever going to have. You’re the President of the United States, the biggest job you could have. You’re the first gay man in the Oval Office, that adds pressure and importance.”

Tom knows it’s true, had remarked on it himself when he stepped through the door earlier that day. But to hear Pete say it, to put it so plainly and point out just how important this job and his win back in November is, and that they somehow made it to today, to inauguration day, makes him pause.

He’s the President of the United States of America. The first gay president, and he’s married by common law to his Chief of Staff.

“Holy shit, I’m the president,” he whispers. “Pete, I’m the president. I got sworn in today. We’re here. We’re really here.”

Pete smirks and moves next to Tom, wraps an arm around him. “We’re really here, babe.”

They stand together like that for a moment, taking it all in. Pete rests his head on Tom’s shoulder, shifts his eyes to check his watch and notes the time. They can take this moment, this minute to revel in what they’ve accomplished.

“Okay, we gotta get back to it, Mr. President,” Pete says quietly, presses a kiss to Tom’s shoulder. “There’s a few more reports and memos to go through before we can call it a night and head back to the residence and change for the ball.”

Tom let out a sigh and nodded. “Before we get back to work, just give me one kiss?”

Pete smiles and obliges him, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his husband’s lips. “C’mon, back to work. It’s day one,” Pete says again, “there’ll be time for that over the next four years.”

“Okay, then. What’s next?”

[purrs-and-pixels]

The McAuley Family (Strangetown)

Attention, long text ahead – I’m sharing a detailed account of past experiences.

If you’re interested in reading a long story, you’re in the right place. The introductions will probably be this long only because I have so much to share. After that, it’ll mostly be pictures with short captions over time.

The McAuley Family: A Tale of Love, Betrayal, and Second Chances

What happens when three brothers with vastly different views on love and commitment move to Strangetown? For Quinten McAuley, settling down and starting a family was the dream—but love doesn’t always go as planned. A devastating betrayal shattered his world, forcing him to rebuild from the ground up.

From forbidden romances to new beginnings, from heartbreak to happiness, the McAuley family’s journey is filled with drama, unexpected twists, and unforgettable characters. And with the next generation coming of age, who knows what the future holds?

Curious to dive into their story? Keep reading!

The Story of the McAuley Family

Two years ago, when I first met the McAuley family, it consisted of three adult brothers: Johnson, Cooper, and Quinten McAuley. While Johnson and Cooper embraced a carefree, unattached lifestyle, Quinten longed for something more—he wanted to find a wife, settle down, and start a family. The brothers had recently moved to Strangetown, living together in a small apartment with few social connections beyond their neighbors.

One day, Quinten brought home a woman: Lilly Kowalski. She was stunning and, as he soon discovered, already a mother of three—one teenage daughter and two young twins. Despite the challenges this entailed, Quinten was convinced that he had found "the one." He dreamed of having children of his own but was fully prepared to take Lilly’s kids under his wing and raise them as his own.

Quinten never quite understood his brothers' lifestyle. Despite their close bond, he found their ever-changing romances, occasional flings with the same partners, and general disregard for commitment completely foreign. But that didn’t matter—he had found Lilly, and she was all he wanted.

What Quinten didn’t know, however, was that Lilly wasn’t the settling-down type.A true Romance Sim at heart, she had little interest in commitment. The more serious things became with Quinten, the more restless she felt. At first, she suppressed these feelings—but eventually, she started seeking excitement elsewhere.

And so, she found it—with Johnson.

She knew he wasn’t looking for anything serious, which was exactly what she wanted. The fact that she was betraying Quinten didn’t bother her in the slightest. Their affair continued for a long time, right under Quinten’s nose, without him suspecting a thing.

Eventually, Quinten made a big decision—he was going to propose.After a romantic dinner at an upscale restaurant, he got down on one knee and asked Lilly to marry him. At first, she panicked—but then she saw the advantages. A marriage to Quinten would provide financial stability, a loving father for her children, and the comfort of being a housewife while keeping her romantic escapades discreet.

But fate had other plans.

One day, Quinten unexpectedly came home early from work—only to catch Johnson and Lilly in the act. Devastated, he immediately broke off the engagement and kicked them both out of the apartment. Johnson, unfazed, moved in with Lilly into a shared house filled with other Romance Sims, while Quinten spiraled into heartbreak. Cooper, however, remained by his side, helping him through his pain.

A Fresh Start

With time, Quinten began to heal. He started talking more with his neighbor, Renee, someone he had known since moving in but never really connected with before. To his surprise, they shared similar values and dreams. What started as casual conversations soon turned into something deeper, and before long, they had fallen in love.

Quinten and Renee moved into a house of their own, got married, and finally built the family Quinten had always wanted. Before long, their twin children, Ethel and Archie, were born.

Though they were never wealthy, they were happy. Their home was modest but felt spacious compared to what they were used to. Money was always tight, but they had everything they had ever dreamed of.

The Next Generation

Years passed, and Ethel and Archie grew up. Ethel chose to stay at home to care for her aging parents, while Archie moved out to start a new life with his great love, Bria Grunt. The two had a child together—but that’s a story for another time.

Ethel, on the other hand, fell for Lewis. Interestingly, she originally had her eyes on his brother, Lester, but he showed no interest in her. So, she turned to Lewis instead. Although he had been her second choice at first, their relationship turned out to be stable and harmonious.

After their wedding, their first child, Calvin, was born—a curious little boy with an undeniable love for all things messy. Not long after, they welcomed their daughter, Rosalyn, a sweet girl with a rather peculiar hobby: she simply couldn’t resist sneaking out at night to steal garden gnomes from the neighbors’ yards. Thanks to her charming personality, no one ever suspected that she was the one behind the mysterious disappearances. She carefully hid her growing collection in her room, where no one could find it.

What Comes Next?

Today, Calvin and Rosalyn are teenagers, ready to carve their own paths in life. What adventures await them? Only time will tell…

Thank you so much for reading!

[squish36-writes-and-draws]

All the Lemon Squares Argon

Summary: Another renamed fanfic from my creative writing class, this one's assignment was to use setup and payoff in a major element of the story. In the story, Fitz and Dex have a final chemistry presentation project where Fitz has chosen to bake lemon squares, but they've been stolen. I'm not sorry for the pun that is the title.

Word count: 6946

Tw: mild sexual innuendo, jokes about poisoning baked goods, food

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @did-i-say-you-could-get-up @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @xanadaus @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @arson-anarchy-death @dizzeners @thefoxysnake @olivedumdum @loveution @notyourlegacygirl

On Ao3 or below the cut!

    Fitz doesn't even get a chance to sit down next to Dex before Dex’s gorgeous periwinkle eyes glitter up at him with a thousand new ideas. This is going to be…interesting. 

    “What if we could get powdered galactose?  Or lactose? Hm. That’s probably not the best idea. Milk sugar might do weird things chemically. Although that might be the fact that it’s a solution of water and butterfat. Or we could get fructose. That should work.”

    He’s so pretty when he gets like this—especially when I can’t understand half of what he’s saying and I know I’ve missed a lot of context.  

    “We’ve already decided on the parameters of the experiment. We are going to stick with the plan,” Fitz pleads, trying to appeal to Dex’s sense of pretending to be organized. 

    It doesn’t work very well. 

    “What about aspartame? Or Splenda? Is that a brand name? Yeah, it probably is. I should look that one up before putting it in the presentation. Generic Splenda.” 

    “Dex,” Fitz starts, hoping Dex’s name recognition reflex is strong enough to get through this whirlwind of thoughts. “We are not doing any more of this. We have enough. It’ll be fine.” 

    “I wonder what the sweetest one is. Then again, that might not be the best option. Ratios and all that.” 

    An image of the crumbly mess that would follow flashes through Fitz’s mind. He’s forgotten sugar before and it was not a fun result. Better than the three sticks of butter incident in terms of the clean-up, but at least that remained edible. Not that the sugarless one was inedible—that’s a very difficult bar to overcome, but it wasn’t pleasant.

    “It would. But, honey, will you please—”

    “Yeah, honey would be fun!”

    I was calling you that. I realize my error now.  

    Dex’s tirade is finally ended by the school bell ringing in the last hour of the day. It takes a solid five minutes for Mr. Sweeney to take attendance and get the presentation loaded for the group unlucky enough to get drafted on this fine spring Monday. 

    Because AP Chem isn’t already enough of a land of suffering, Mr. Sweeney has graciously decided to fill the time between the exam and the final with a little presentation on whatever chemistry experiment each pair of lab partners wants to do. 

    It can be live or in a video that contains both of you, and it should be relatively safe. This group—composed of Stina and Rissa—has decided that they want to spend an absurd length of time talking about baking soda. Heating it up, predicting the products, hearing about both its and sodium carbonate’s use. Because those are definitely not the same thing. One is used in baking and the other is used in soap. Our class is all in for a riveting ten minutes. 

    Fitz is pretty sure they just found a lab on the internet and followed it, which is a valid method to do things. Once you’ve crossed that mental boundary, though, you should at least try to find an interesting one. He’s heard one group arguing about plating a penny in brass or something. That’s fun. 

    It might be considered defacing currency, but it could easily be argued that that’s the appeal of it. 

    But no. They get to sit there for ten whole minutes, and half of that time is waiting for the sample to heat. Curse you, thermodynamics. Dex doesn’t stop suggesting ideas for how they could embellish their own presentation in a few short days, but Fitz isn’t even sure they’re going to finish what they already have on the agenda. 

    While they’re painfully waiting for the baking soda to heat up enough that it decomposes, Dex asks on the lab table in blue, fine tip expo marker, How are the lemon squares going? 

    The big idea for their project is that they’re going to be taking glucose and sucrose and seeing what happens when they react with Benedict’s Solution. Who’s Benedict? Some guy, probably. It’s a shame they’ve turned him into a soup. At least he’s blue from the copper(II) ions. 

    Fitz should know this by now, but that’s what Wikipedia at two in the morning the night it’s due is for. 

    Anyway, it turns orange in the presence of a reducing sugar, like glucose, and doesn’t react with others, like sucrose. Why do we care about those two? They were the most easily commercially available and it’s taken until today for Dex to start suggesting more sugars for them to try. 

    They’re also performing a taste experiment between lemon squares made with glucose and those made with sucrose. It’s good practice to bring the audience snacks while presenting. 

    Of course, it was a whole process choosing the variety of pastry to be used in this project. As in, Dex asked really nicely for it to be lemon squares—puppy dog eyes and all— and Fitz is incapable of telling him no. It was also convenient that the recipe Fitz had didn’t use brown sugar, and could thus be closer to a controlled test. 

    I made some last night, Fitz replies, and Dex has begun doodling either a chocolate chip cookie or an asteroid on his side of the table. It’s the most precious thing Fitz has ever owned and he will cherish it forever. 

    Dex pauses his masterpiece to say, That’s good.

    Yeah, um, so, about that, Fitz barely manages to write around Dex’s arm, this morning I woke up to find them disappeared. 

    Dex has to erase some of the previous conversation to ask, Well, what’d you do with them? 

    I remember specifically putting them into the back of the cabinet above the microwave. 

    And they weren’t there this morning? 

    Nope. 

    That marks the first time Dex has stopped talking long enough to think for the first time since last Wednesday. 

    Fitz erases a space to write, smearing a haze of blue across the table.

    Don’t worry about it. I’ll make more tonight.

    And then those are going to disappear.

    I’ll put them somewhere else. 

    Until that gets raided too. 

    Then I’ll make MORE. 

    I don’t think you have that many eggs. 

    That’s why grocery stores exist. 

    Before they know it, the presentation is over, and it doesn’t really affect a whole lot. There’s three presentations a day. It’s still going to take a week to get through all of them, but it does make it so that it doesn’t take longer than that. And that’s somewhat relevant. 

    This next one is over the most classic science fair project of all time: the baking soda volcano.  It’s not surprising that Jensi and Valin are the ones to try to blow up the classroom. 

     Dex writes the chemical reaction on the table with accompanying chemical structures before they’ve even gotten off the title slide. 

     NaHCO3 + HC2H3O2 → NaH2C3O2 + CO2 + H2O 

    Jensi also takes his time explaining acid-base chemistry like we’re all fifth graders, which likely isn’t that far off. “You see, class, baking soda, or sodium bicarbonate, is a base, which means that when it comes into contact with water, it is able to rip off some of water’s hydrogen atoms, resulting in an increase in hydroxide ions. And then when vinegar, also called acetic acid, is dissolved in water, it releases hydrogen atoms, forming hydronium ions. Do any of you remember the chemical formula for hydronium?

    Crickets fill the room as Dex writes H3O+ on the desk without a single thought. Mr. Sweeney is probably off crying in the corner as their final grades slip lower and lower. 

    “That’s alright,” Valin continues, “it’s combining the two reactants that’s the fun part. When an acid and a base come into contact with one another, they undergo a double replacement reaction. In this case, sodium and hydrogen switch places.”

    The presentation flips to the next slide, filling in the products of the reaction as CH3COONa + H2CO3. 

    Sodium acetate can be written either the way Valin and Jensi did or the way Dex did. It’s a matter of preference or something about organic chemistry. Now, carbonic acid, on the other hand, is a bit more of an issue. 

    Jensi points at the second term. “But that’s not its final form. This last reactant here breaks apart into water and carbon dioxide, so there’s a second reaction inside of the normal reaction.” 

    Yes, yes, we all know how carbonates work, Dex writes. 

    Fitz laughs silently. 

    “And, with all that in mind,” Jensi flips to the next slide and lowers his goggles from his forehead to where they’re supposed to go over his eyes in true mad scientist fashion. “It’s time for eruption.” 

    Everyone has seen a baking soda volcano before. It’s not surprising when it bubbles up and oozes out of the beaker that Jensi and Valin didn’t even bother to make look like a volcano. It is nice to note that they did bring food coloring to make the lava foam orange and didn’t get it on the ceiling, which is a win for everyone. 

    And then Dex has to ruin it. Did you know this reaction is actually endothermic?

    That’s big fancy chemistry words for “it gets cold.” Curse you, thermodynamics. Lava isn’t supposed to be cold. Fitz is going to personally take this up with the second law of thermodynamics. It’s not going to work, but entropy deserves to feel bad about what it’s doing. 

    Valin and Jensi putz around for another five minutes after their initial volcano has stopped reacting, mostly just adding more vinegar or baking soda at random intervals to see how the increase in concentration affects the rate of the reaction. Definitely not just standing around to run down the clock for the next group. 

    That next group is the brassing a penny group, and it takes them so long to get to their experiment, the entire class is freed from the confines of the school building before it’s over. Except for Fitz. He still has to play chess for an hour. 

    It comes and goes with more blunders than Fitz would care to admit, but that very quickly doesn’t matter when he shows up at Dex’s house to work on homework. And by “work on homework” he means “desperately hope that he doesn’t get horrifically distracted before they accomplish a nonzero amount of progress on the chem project.” It doesn’t seem likely. 

    And then that probability crashes to zero. 

    Dex is found standing in his room at a bulletin board, winding a red string around thumb tacks stabbed into sticky notes. 

    In the middle is a picture of Fitz and a torn-off corner of notebook paper with a three dimensional lemon square drawn on it. Fitz can tell it’s a lemon square because it’s been messily colored in with a yellow crayon that doesn’t show up very well. 

    “Do I want to ask?” Fitz asks hesitantly. 

    Dex smiles into the board. “No, I don’t think you do. But that doesn’t stop me from explaining it. Here in the middle is you, of course. There’s only a few people that know that we’re baking for this project and that I made you do it.”

    “How do we know that the person who took them even knows about the project? Do you not realize how often I find myself baking? I have a problem.

    “Good point.” Dex adds a lopsided question mark to the sticky note with the word ‘project.’ “That doesn’t really change who might have had access to the stash. Which is where our suspects come in.” 

    Dex turns to face Fitz, gesturing widely toward the board like any of it makes sense. His handwriting is absolutely atrocious right now, a sure sign that he’s put more thought into this than it deserves. 

    “Our first suspect is Keefe. I don’t trust him. He’s got a long history of making things disappear. Case in point: Mrs. Cuddles. One day, she was here in all of her stuffed animal glory and the next, we’ve never seen her again.” 

    “We never proved that it was Keefe.” 

    “Well, we really should get around to doing that.” Dex points very intentionally at nothing. “He is also likely to know you well enough to know where you would hide things.” 

    “You have fun asking him. I’m not interrogating my best friend.”

    Dex’s eyes glimmer, and Fitz knows all hope is lost. “We should absolutely do an interrogation! With threats and everything!” 

    “Until he asks for a lawyer,” Fitz deadpans, trying to calm down Dex’s racing thoughts. This is both a common situation and one that Fitz is very bad at de-escalating. 

    “Your dad could be his lawyer.” 

    “I feel like that would make things objectively worse.” 

    “Yeah, it probably would. I think we should declare independence and therefore we don’t have to comply with constitutional rights. Who needs those anyway?” 

    Fitz blinks. He expected for Dex to increase his outlandish ideas in a short amount of time, but not that quickly. 

    “I mean, if you wanted to take the ‘the first amendment protects you from the government, not the Dex’ approach, that would be entirely reasonable without having to prove sovereignty. That would take a while.” 

    Dex smiles. “I forgot about that. That’s perfect. When do you think you can take Keefe into custody?” 

    “I’m not doing it, you do it.” Fitz pauses, trying to think of a good reason why because he clearly did not think through the implications of this before saying it. “You’re the lead investigator here. You’ve got the corkboard and everything. I’m just a guy who happens to be here.”

    Dex looks at him, not believing any of what he just said to be true, but accepting it as fact anyway. 

    “Please don’t let this end with Keefe having a restraining order against us,” Fitz adds. 

    “I make no promises, sweetheart.” 

        Fitz’s faded, once-pink hair falls into his face as he pushes his glasses up to pinch his nose. 

    Why did I know that was going to be his response? 

    Fitz shouldn’t be surprised the next day after school to find Dex in his basement, Keefe sitting at an old wooden table, the lights dimmed as low as possible before total darkness. The incandescent bulbs don’t much like this as they flutter in pain like they’re having a little bit of a stroke. 

    “About time,” Dex says, leaning against the wall. 

    Fitz turns on the lights. “This needs to be taken down about three notches. Keefe, I’m sorry he’s like this.” 

    “I’m not,” Dex and Keefe reply in alarming unison. 

    What did I sign myself up for and why do I do this to myself? 

    “Dex, if you would please proceed with the reason we have gathered y’all here today, that’d be great. Some of us have homework that we actually do,” Fitz suggests. 

    “That’s what study hall is for,” Keefe replies. 

    Dex interjects, “No, study hall is for Wordle.”

    “That’s what English is for.”

    “No, that’s when you do the homework you didn’t finish at home or in study hall.” 

    “Okay, yeah, that’s almost fair.” 

        It isn’t often that Dex concedes a point in an argument. Or maybe Fitz isn’t good at arguing with him. Fitz is very distractible when it comes to Dex and that might affect his debate skills. Or it could be that he knows Dex will pout for a month and a half if he’s proven wrong, and Fitz just lets him believe that he’s right. Yeah, that’s it. 

    Dex bounces off of the wall and slides into the chair across from Keefe. Fitz takes a seat, off center, directly next to Dex, close enough that Dex’s infamous left handed elbow jabs are a serious threat. 

    “First, I would like to confirm that you are, in fact, Keefe Sencen. Is this accurate information?” 

    “What, no middle name?” He looks at Fitz. “Do you not know it?” 

    A smirk tries to blossom on Keefe’s lips but quickly gets shut down by Fitz’s own. 

    “I absolutely know what it is. I didn’t think you wanted to acknowledge how you were named after your father, considering everything.” 

    Dex continues, “This is not a government-sanctioned interrogation, and, as such, you are not entitled to any of the protections provided by the Bill of Rights. Miranda rights do not apply here. You are not getting a lawyer unless you want one of my siblings, who are, by the way, not recognized by the bar association.” 

    “This is quickly sounding like more and more of a trap.”

    “It’s like five questions. You’ll be fine. The most severe sentence you will receive is mild disappointment.” 

    Keefe gasps sarcastically. “Not that, never that. How am I going to cope?” 

        “On the seventh of November of this year, it was discovered that a tray of lemon squares went missing. Do you know anything about this?” Dex asks. 

    “No,” Keefe replies, fast enough to not think but not too fast to be suspicious. 

    “Are you absolutely sure?”

    Fitz adds, “They would have been above my microwave.” 

    “Yeah, I’m sure.” Keefe shifts his attention to Fitz. “You made lemon squares and didn’t tell me?”

    “I guess you should’ve taken chem with me.” 

    “Well, I wouldn’t have gotten them either way, considering they’ve been stolen. But, now I know you have a recipe for them, which means I have the ability to annoy you enough to convince you to make them. Who’s the real winner here?”

    “So you’re sure that you didn’t take them? You’re not just being difficult because that’s your only personality trait?” 

    “Actually, I have two. Beauty is a personality trait. But I was very unaware of that particular stash. The one under your bed and in the back of the lazy susan are less safe.” 

    Fitz swears. “I just found that one a week ago and now you’re telling me I have to find yet another one?”

    “You could always use your closet. You’ve already got everything else in there.” 

    Dex snorts. 

    “You knowing where it is would take away the whole concept of it being a hiding place. And then you’d figure out how to sell it on the black market.”

    “I wouldn’t do that. That would risk my own stash. Although your sister is going to stiff it out with that bloodhound nose of hers faster than I’ll be able to raid it.”

    Dex interrupts, “Do you think there is a possibility that Biana was the one to find the lemon squares?”

    “Possibility? Absolutely. I don’t know why she wouldn’t have been your first suspect. She literally lives in the same house as the lemon squares. She would’ve had the largest window of opportunity.”

    “Like you aren’t there almost as much.”

    “That’s because Biana is usually off gallivanting with her friends.” 

    Keefe has a slight inflection on the word “friends,” but what he’s trying to imply there remains unclear. Knowing both of them, it’s probably more than a little gay. 

    Fitz waits a beat before saying, “I’ve got to go get to making another batch. If more go missing, I want you to expect that we will be seeing you again.”

    “I also expect you to come to us, whether it be in person, in an overcomplicated disaster of scavenger hunt clues, or anywhere in between, if you find out any information. We can offer a better bribe than those other people can.”

    “Dex,” Fitz hisses. 

    “What? It’s accurate. It’s not like this is going to lead to a crime syndicate,” Dex replies. 

    “You never know. Alvar could be involved.” 

    “He probably still thinks of you as a fifth grader. I know I do the same with my siblings, and I see them every day. Unfortunately. But that means he likely believes that you shouldn’t be trusted to operate the oven on your own.” 

    “Unless he’s been purposely watching you only to ruin your final project,” Keefe suggests. 

    Fitz holds his head in his hands. “There’s no reason to exaggerate this as much as you are. Next you’re going to be telling me that I should poison the next batch to find out who took them.” 

    “That’s actually a good solution,” Dex says. “You’d make sure there are no more stolen lemon squares…after those, at least.”

    A couple of bitter almonds crushed up into the crust would make that far easier than it should be. Cyanide is known for being delicious. 

    …And that’s exactly why I shouldn’t be allowed access to Biana’s Amazon Prime account. 

    “Are we done here?” Fitz asks tiredly. “Or are you two going to come up with a conspiracy theory to explain the entirety of thermodynamics or something? And do I really have to be here for that?”

    “Hey, there’s probably a fourth secret law of thermo somewhere,” Dex argues. 

    “There already is. The zeroth law. If A is in equilibrium with B and A is in equilibrium with C, then B is in equilibrium with C, remember? You’d need a secret fifth law, and at that point, that’s unrealistic.” 

    Dex laughs. 

    “Please don’t figure out a way to violate any of the laws while I’m gone. I don’t want to deal with the consequences of that. That would imply that the project would have to change and I’m not putting that much effort in between now and Friday.” 

        “I hope you know that’s my goal in life now.”

    “I knew it would be.” Fitz sighs silently. “I’ve got too much homework to keep following this conversation. Just have fun doing whatever it is you find yourself doing this evening.”

         “Let me know if you need distracting from your homework.”

    I give myself fifteen minutes before I’m going to be taking you up on that offer. “I won’t, thanks. Have a nice evening.” 

    “I won’t. And I’m sure you won’t either.” 

    Keefe snorts. 

    “Both of y’all are legally required to have a nice evening. Because I said so. And now I’m going to leave you to it.”  

    Fitz leaves without any more argument, because he’s had enough of that for today. There’s a limited amount of coherent thoughts he can have while being faced with Dex’s dimples and that number is very, very low.

    The next day interviewing—interrogating—Biana goes much the same as Keefe. Which is to say, it’s a complete waste of time for everyone involved. She threatens them slightly more, but that’s to be expected. 

    Fitz spends far too many hours reading scientific papers about glucose and sucrose and a few other sugars just for fun instead of working on the actual project part of the project. 

    It’s to make it as accurate as possible. Yeah. That’s why he didn’t get to bed until two in the morning. 

    That might also be due to the fact that he spent a few hours surveying his house to look for the most advantageous spot to hide the next batch of lemon squares—and with two slices per person in class, it’s not particularly easy to find anywhere even remotely helpful. 

    There aren’t a whole lot of viable options left between Keefe and Biana’s incessant searching for hidden snacks in the walls. Even behind the fish tank in his dad’s office is no longer safe. 

    Eventually, he finds a light fixture that will surprisingly work quite well. They might get a little warm from the heat given off by the lights if they’re turned on. Curse you, thermodynamics. They’ll be fine. 

    Then, and only then, at like two in the morning, is he able to make more. Most of their cooking time is being stuck in the fridge and it gets left there overnight. 

    The next day is Thursday, and Thursdays are good days. Neither Dex nor Fitz have anything to do after school, which means Fitz can drive Dex home. 

        “I made more lemon squares last night.”

    “Oh? And how did that go?” Dex asks, staring firmly out the window. 

    “Well, they weren’t there when I checked them again in the morning.”

    Dex swears. “Is there anything else we can do?”

    “Not unless I don’t let them out of my sight until tomorrow morning when I let Sweeney take custody of them. Do you think I could maybe make and leave them at your house? I don’t want to get up at four in the morning and that’s pretty much my only other option. I’m not staying up all night just to make them at a reasonable time.” 

    “I would rather gouge my eyes out with my pencil than wake up at that heinous hour. Good luck to both you and your sanity. Stars know I’m not going to be doing that. I’d pull another all-nighter before I do that one.” 

    It takes a second and a half for Fitz to realize what Dex just said. 

    “What do you mean ‘another’ all-nighter? Dex, we’ve been working on this.”

    “Well, we’ve also been working on this project for a few too many days for me to just ignore this whole mystery situation we’ve got going on.” Dex’s voice cracks. “I have to solve this problem. I have to find out what happened. We’re going to be very lucky if I get anything tonight.” 

    “Then I guess we just have to make sure you don’t think about the problem. If we don’t think about it, it doesn’t exist.”

    “You’re not playing the object permanence game with me today, Fitz. We all know I’m going to lose and I don’t like doing that.”

    “There’s no such thing as losing. Either you win the game and pass out in the middle of our presentation tomorrow, pushing it to Monday as you get dragged to the nurse’s office, or you get to sleep.”

    Dex sighs. “You do raise a fair point. I can’t get on a first name basis. Keefe and Sophie may have been the first to accomplish that particular honor, but that doesn’t mean they’re ever going to let me live it down.” 

    That wasn’t the point I was trying to make, but whatever works, my darling. 

    Fitz reaches over and gently squeezes Dex’s hand. “We’ll figure it out. I’m not failing a project over this. That’s not something I’m physically capable of doing. Besides, if something does happen, we’ve still got Benedict’s solution and a hot water bath. It’s not as fun or as memorable, but it’s functional.” 

    “Ah, yes, copper sulfate soup. I’m sure it’s very tasty.”

    “The forbidden gatorade. The fact that it’s that shade of delicious, delicious blue is so unfair on so many levels.”

    “I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one.”    

    “Well, it’s not my fault it looks so drinkable. Also, you’re a very bad influence on me.” Fitz smiles. 

    “I know. But I’m just picking up what Keefe started. Can you feel the corruption sinking into your bone marrow?” 

    “Yeah.” Fitz says bluntly. 

    They unceremoniously get out of the car, and Fitz leads the both of them towards the kitchen. They’re trying to be productive today and making another batch of lemon squares before sitting down and getting distracted seems like something productive. 

    He checked after Biana’s interview yesterday to see if Dex’s house had all of the ingredients, and for some unknown reason, they did. Why do they own so much glucose? Normal table sugar is sucrose. That would be reasonable. Glucose is not. 

    It might be a little out of date, but at this point, Fitz’s just hoping to not have to do the conversion from baking powder to baking soda. After making the crust and throwing it in the oven, he discovers that his hopes aren’t fulfilled. 

    How am I supposed to measure a sixth of a teaspoon of baking soda?

    And also, why does this always happen? They should really standardize this. Make everyones’ lives easier. 

    Just to be even more difficult, it decides to spill onto his shirt, right next to the flour and powdered sugar from the crust. Flour has no reason to get everywhere and yet it does. 

    Dex leans over the kitchen island where he’s seated, looking up from his phone for the first time in several minutes. “Am I going to be allowed to quality control these?”

    “No. We barely have enough for our victims—sorry, classmates—as it is.”

    Dex snorts. “Have you poisoned these again? Fitz, we talked about this. This is a crime against humanity.”

     Fitz finishes whisking the second lemon filling—the sucrose one—and the oven timer goes off a few moments later. He checks the crusts, and they’re both beautifully golden brown. 

    I need to bake here more often. This oven is better than the one at home.  

    “Says the guy voted most likely to become a dictator by our chem class.”

    “That simply means I know what I’m talking about.”

    “That’s funny, because I’ve never known what I was talking about in my life.”

    “That seems like a you problem.” 

        Fitz pours the filling into their proper crusts—differentiable by one of glucose’s corners being less than all the way to the corner—before sliding both pans back into the oven. 

    That can be Dex’s piece. I just can’t tell him that yet. 

    “Do you have any other homework tonight?” Fitz asks, leaning across the island counter to match Dex. 

    “That really is your only mode of conversation, isn’t it?” 

    “Yeah. It’s sad, isn’t it? I’d ask if you had any new personal projects going, but I think I know the answer to that.” 

    “You do?”

    “You’re fully occupied solving my life’s problems. You don’t have enough time to start something else.”

    “It’s lines of reasoning like that one that make me want to start a new project just to prove you wrong, and I hope you know that.”

    “And now I can ask you very nicely to channel that feeling and work on the presentation we have tomorrow. Unless you forgot that it was tomorrow. Did I mention it was tomorrow? We have a presentation tomorrow and we are extraordinarily unprepared.” 

    Dex tilts his head, considering. “No, I don’t think you did,” he replies flatly. 

    “So do you think it might be a good idea to get the slides open so that progress can be made towards readiness?”

    “No,” Dex replies, getting his laptop out of his backpack and hitting the keyboard approximately fifty percent more than necessary to make it turn on and start functioning. 

     Its fan immediately starts running, producing a high-pitched whine on top of the normal laptop fan sounds. 

    Dex smacks the side of the keyboard, likely an effort to make it stop doing that. It doesn’t. “Curse you, thermodynamics,” he whispers, along with a few stronger suggestions for what friction can do to itself. 

    “I’m going to be hunted for sport if Bex hears this. I’m going to my room. If you need me, you can literally just text me. You’ve done it before. I believe in you.” 

    I don’t know which one of your siblings that is, but I’m not letting you go back in that room while that cork board is still there. I need a focused Dex and that would not be a focused Dex. 

    “Or we could head down into the basement,” Fitz suggests. “I can probably still hear the oven going off from down there and being in the room where we interrogated our suspects seems kind of fitting.” 

    “That’s fair,” Dex says, picking up his still-open backpack and laptop as he begins to descend the stairs. 

    Fitz tries to brush away some of the suspicious white powder dusting the front of his shirt. It doesn’t do a whole lot, but maybe now it won’t be as ground into the carpet lining the stairs and lower level. 

    Fitz finds Dex arguing with one of his siblings—it might be Lex, but it’s difficult to tell. All of their names rhyme because their dad thinks he’s hilarious, only making Fitz’s life more difficult. 

    “Why are you turning down the opportunity to go trash my entire room?” Dex demands. 

    “Why are you so willing to give me that opportunity? Last time you were this agreeable, you planted stink bombs under your bed!”

    “To be fair, that was objectively hilarious.”

    Maybe-Lex smiles. “It was fun banishing Rex outside for a week.”

    I remember that happening. 

    “Just find somewhere else to go live for the next couple of hours. If that ends up being outside, that’s your problem. I have the Fitz and since he’s a guest in our house, that means he, and by extension I, have superiority.” 

    The corners of Fitz’s mouth widen into a smile and his heart flutters slightly. 

    Hearing him use that argument never gets old. It’s kind of pathetic. I’m kind of pathetic. 

    More-than-likely-Lex huffs and stomps up the stairs. The carpet muffles most of his anger. 

    “Sorry about him,” Dex says as he sits at the table, friction causing the laptop to shriek as he slides it back because he put it down too close to the edge. Fitz’s ears want to bleed. At least the journey got the fan to stop screeching for whatever reason. 

    Fitz takes a seat across from him, the chair still ominously warm from probably-Lex sitting there. And then, from the all-encompassing silence left behind, comes the sound of Pop Rocks emanating from the table itself. 

    Fitz looks up to find Dex moving his laptop to the far end of the table so he can get a closer look. 

    “What on Earth was Lex doing here?” Dex whispers to himself. 

    Ah, so I was right on which one it was.  

    That’s not the takeaway you were supposed to make there.

    Fitz shrugs. 

    Dex pokes the table. “It’s sticky.”

    “Now I definitely don’t want to know.” 

    “Not like that. Get your mind out of—” An idea blossoms in Dex’s mind, and without any warning or elaboration, he runs upstairs. 

    A cabinet slams closed. “Where’d you put the baking soda?”

    “To the right of the pantry, top cabinet, bottom shelf, right side.”

    “Thank you!” he yells, running back down the stairs and to the table, becoming a living example of the doppler effect. He pours far more than the recommended serving size of baking soda onto the table, and the popping sound intensifies. 

    Dex swears triumphantly. 

    “Care to elaborate?”

    “No,” he says, looking at Fitz, dimples prominent and so close Fitz could probably count his freckles. “Bicarbonates react with acids to form a salt, water, and carbon dioxide.” 

    “I know. Why is that relevant right now?” 

    “I just dumped an entire mountain of baking soda on the table and it started reacting with whatever Lex left there. That means whatever he left there was more than likely an acid. And, no, it’s not that kind of acid. Probably. It wouldn’t leave gook on the table like that.”

    Fitz’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t ask why Dex would have this information. The answer is probably a Wikipedia rabbit hole. “Do you know what it could be then?” 

    “This isn’t a very helpful answer, but, no, I don’t, and I don’t know what other tests I can do to narrow it down from literally everything else.” 

    “Don’t you literally carry around a gallon of Benedict’s solution? I fully believe there’s something in your backpack that can solve this conundrum.” 

    “Not quite that much, but, yeah, I’ve got some. For reasons we do not discuss.” 

    It’s because it’s the forbidden gatorade flavor.

    “I’ve got the oven going if you need hot water. If that would help. I don’t know. There’s a reason I just let you do the chem labs without getting myself between you and a bottle of one-molar HCl.” 

    “That’s a valid solution to the problem. I wouldn’t get between me and my son HCl either. Benedict’s might be helpful. Then we’ll be able to figure out where to go from there.”

    “The presence of reducing sugars,” Fitz corrects, and he feels way too proud of himself at knowing that fact. Even when Dex already knows it. 

    Dex grumbles, “Close enough.”

    He runs back upstairs to get a spoon and a small glass, filled with a tiny splash of water. He scrapes off a corner, and it forms an off-white peak on the edge of the spoon before it gets dunked into the water and swirled into solution. A few added drops of Benedict's solution makes it a pale blue color before Dex runs it back upstairs once again to throw it in the oven. 

    “That glass better not shatter into my lemon squares!” Fitz yells, but Dex probably isn’t listening. One must respect the science, and the lemon squares get to deal with the collateral damage. 

    Yeah, the crunchy topping is on purpose. It’s isomalt. Totally. 

    Dex spends a very long thirty seconds pacing, the floorboards creaking with every step he takes. 

    He was probably counting in his head, because when he decides the timer is up, he’s running, once again, to the oven to get the sample out. 

    “It’s orange!” Dex yells, echoing through the house. That must be a wild sentence out of context. 

    “That’s a good thing, right?” 

    “That means you’re gonna move on to the next phase of inquiry: the smell test.”

    “Why aren’t you doing it?”

    “Do you really think I just let you sniff the chemicals in the lab for fun? I don’t smell things very well. I’ve got a library of, like, five things, and even then it has to have a lot of smell for me to even be slightly aware of its presence. We’ve been over this.”

    There’s so many reasons why this could very easily be a very bad idea, some of them involving ammonium hydroxide or chemicals like it, but Fitz is just going to trust Dex’s omnipotent chemistry knowledge. He’s done it all year, and he’s not failing AP chem yet. 

    So long as Fitz is well enough to take the final so that he can definitely not cheat off Dex on it, it should be fine. 

    Dex comes rushing back down the stairs, nearly spilling the forbidden now-orange juice on the carpet.

    He finds Fitz trying to waft the airborne aromatic molecules into the air, his nose slowly inching closer and closer to it. 

    Something registers, and he has to have smelled it wrong. His brows knit together. “There’s citrus in there.”

    The pieces click together—the smell, the stickiness, the presence of reducing sugars in a place where they typically wouldn’t be, and the acid. Citric acid, malic acid, ascorbic acid. Maybe some other acids. 

    “...These are the lemon squares.” Fitz takes a deep breath, before quietly asking, a dark undercurrent running through his words, “Have you been the one taking them?” 

    After all this, all the work Dex has claimed to have done to try to find them, if he knew where they were the entire time that’s—that’s absolutely unthinkable. And if he wasn’t the one to squirrel them away, having them end up in his house of all places is terrifyingly coincidental. 

    Dex puts his hands up defensively, his voice rising in pitch and threatening to crack. “Let’s think about this logically. I would’ve known exactly why you made those. Do you really think I would take them? Do you really think that little of me?”

    Fitz stands. “Then how else would your siblings get their grubby little hands on them?”

    “Why do you expect me to know? Why don’t you go ask them if you’re so concerned with where my priorities lie?” 

    “Keefe,” comes a yelled voice from the great beyond of the upstairs. So quick to throw their source under the bus, but that also means Fitz’s best friend lied to both Fitz and Dex without so much as a moment of hesitation. 

    …I’m not even disappointed, Fitz thinks, and that realization is…kind of depressing. 

    But that also means Dex’s siblings have another source if they’re willing to give that one up so easily. 

    Just because this one case might have been solved doesn’t mean the possibility is removed from the future. They’re going to find a way. At least finals season is upon us, so the baked goods will be plentiful because the stress is plentiful. 

    “I’m sorry,” Fitz whispers, staring at the baking soda hills to deliberately avoid eye contact with Dex and his perfect periwinkle eyes. 

    Dex sits across from him. “I can’t apologize for their actions, but I can apologize for not thinking of them during my whole process. I just figured I would know if they were stashing it in my own house, you know?”

    “Yeah, that’s fair. I don’t trust Biana enough to use that same logic with her, but I get where it would be coming from if I did.” 

    Dex smiles softly. “How mad would you be if I were to join you on that particular endeavor?” 

    Fitz smiles. “So mad.” 

    Dex takes Fitz’s hand, smearing the baking soda across the table. 

    And then the oven timer goes off. The lemon squares are done, and all that’s left is for them to cool off and be powdered sugar. Then they’re ready to go for tomorrow’s presentation. It’s not the most prepared he’s ever been, but at this point, it’s good enough. Monosaccharides and disaccharides aren’t that bad to just completely ramble about with no notes. Dex knows too much for his own good anyway. Between that, some unhelpful clip art, and a four in the morning rabbit hole, everything will be fine. 

    Besides, it’s not like any of the other students will care. They get snacks. 

    “You, uh, might want to go check that before they get taken,” Dex suggests. 

    “Yeah, yeah, I know, I know,” Fitz mumbles, beginning the long journey of trudging up the stairs.