#they have him come in late to do essentially nothing. i set up the big event myself ran around and then he still acted

[munamania]

if my coworker doesn’t stop smacking his lips it’s gonna turn into a murder-suicide situation.

[lowkeyremi]

SWITCHIN' THE POSITIONS FOR YOU, COOKIN' IN THE KITCHEN !

pairing: s. gojo x fem!reader (drabble) note: i saw a poll asking who would be the worst in the kitchen and a lot of people (along with myself) voted gojo summary: satoru wants to make you dinner for a change but it goes terribly wrong for him ! content: fluff, gojo can NOT cook, established relationship (marriage), just cute stuff nothing crazy :3 wc: 783

An hour ago. That was when your husband told you not to worry about dinner, because, 'I've got it covered!' You've been married to Satoru for a long time, so you trusted his judgement. That was then, and right now you're worried because you are 100% sure something in the kitchen is burning right now.

If the groans and frustrated clanging of pots and pans weren't something to go by, then you weren't sure what was. As happy as you would have been to eat whatever burnt mess your husband made, you really didn't want the fire department to have to put out a fire in the building.

So, the only other option was to help him. He was bound to complain and tell you he can do it himself, but you won't have any of that.

"Baby? You okay?" All of the noise in the kitchen quiets when you call out for your husband.

"Yeah, I'm fine! Don't- don't come in here yet I'm not done." A loud crash sound ensues and a loud groan leaves Satoru's lips.

"I think I should come in now, yeah?" He sighs quietly. He's so let down that he nods forgetting that you can't see him before whispering a soft, "Yeah."

"What are you in here making, 'toru?" His blue eyes are just as pouty as his lips are. You find it hard to keep your own eyes on him when out of the corner of your eyes you can see something bubbling over onto the stove with a "psh" sound.

"Was making you pasta, but I burnt the noodles and now the sauce is burning." His voice holds none of his usual cheeriness, his lips hold a very deep frown, and his eyes droop down.

"Aww baby, that was really sweet of you. How about we clean this up and order takeout?" His frown deepens, if that's even possible.

"But I wanna cook you dinner," He whines quietly. Of course you're going to help him make dinner now, because he was so set on cooking for you. Satoru's never had to cook because of his family background, which is why everything in the kitchen is in the state that it's in.

An uneasy feeling washes over you when you see the amount of dishes that are in the sink and what time it is. By the time you guys finish cleaning the kitchen and buy groceries for dinner, it'll be late, but it's worth seeing a smile on his face.

"Well, let's get to cleaning if we wanna eat before midnight." His pout is immediately turned into a big, bright smile.

"Okay!!"

After much cleaning and a trip to the grocery story you and your husband are ready to cook.

"Okay, now that our hands are clean and we have everything that we need, do you mind passing me a tomato?" Without hesitating he picks up a the red fruit and slips it into your hand.

"Thank you, Honey." He smiles diligently as he watches you slice the tomato into halves.

Once he thinks he's seen you do it enough times he asks to give it a try.

"Careful 'toru. Don't cut yourself." With ease he slices through the tomato, keeping his hand away from the knife just as you had. Satoru Gojo is good at everything he does, so of course the cut is perfect.

"Look at you baby, you're a pro at this!" His ego is already pretty big, but it wouldn't hurt to let him feel some pride after his cooking disaster earlier.

While Satoru cut up the rest of the tomatoes, you started boiling the water and browning the beef. You make sure to season the meat with Italian styled seasonings such as oregano, basil, parsley, a long with the essential seasonings.

Satoru's attention is turned to you when he finishes the tomatoes. "Why didn't we just get the fresh stuff at the store instead of those seasonings?"

"Because I want to cut some prep time off. It does the same thing, don't worry too much about it. On top of that we're making homemade sauce so it'll be fine." He nods, but you're 100% sure he has no clue what any of that meant.

The pasta turned out way better this time and Satoru was so excited, "Okay okay, one more picture and then we can eat. It's just- gosh baby this looks so good. Thank you for teaching me how to make this."

It's not fair how he can easily fluster you. "Your welcome, 'toru. Now can we eat? I'm starving."

He lets out a laugh deep from his belly, "Yeah, let's eat before our hard work gets cold."

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[livingformintyoongi]

BTS fic recs

I wanted to do this a while ago, but felt like I hadn't read enough, until I checked my likes and got a shock to the face lol. I wanted to give some recommendations of some fics (and a series) that I quite enjoyed reading, plus leave a small review because I feel like it's very underrated to comment on what you like something (people, comment more, I swear it makes a writer feel so much better than a like). There's the occasional spoiler in the reviews, so I recommend you read it carefully or just skip the comment ^^.

Dawning by @wintaerbaer JJK

summary: He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new. warnings: heavy depictions of depression and panic attacks, a brief line where taehyung worries oc is s**cidal. I really loved this fic. For a moment I thought it was some kind of two shot or something, but it only has this one part. Still, I felt the author captured the emotions very well. It felt so realistic that even I was worried when Y/N disappeared lol.

Bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer KTH

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep. warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming. This fic made me remember why I love the exes to lovers trope. I loved seeing Jungkook as a tattoo artist, it's like, I don't know, so him, anyway, I loved it. I just found this account yesterday in the wee hours of the morning and I'm already loving it <3.

Cat-astrophe & Cat-enaries by @dumpywrites MYG

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem.  I fell in love with this Yoongi like you have no idea. When I just read the first part I was so eager to keep reading, seriously, I loved it, it deserves so much love.

Two Days by @dumpywrites JJK

Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not? I live for Jungkook being simp of the reader, I feel it's so real lol. This fic made me feel so warm inside, it was too cute to read. It's kind of like my comfort fic.

S'more than friends by @borathae MYG

Warnings: subby!Yoongi, switchy!Reader, consumption of beer, so much awkward tension, jealousy, sex in a tent, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, making out aye, Yoongi loves her boobs and she loves his butt it’s a win-win, sex while other people are sleeping, public sex, she has a thing for his hands (but what’s new lmao), fluffy post-orgasm talks because I’m soft. I read it a while ago now, but I remember when I did I felt so soft. This Yoongi is just too cute.

Please don't go by @httpjungkookcom JJK

Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you. Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line.  Spiderkook, is more needed to read this fic? It was the first one I read about this au and I was WONDERED. God, you can't imagine how much I loved it. I thought it was so cute the way Jk approached reader being in his suit….

Accidental roommates by @jjkeverlast JJK

summary: moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace. yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate. warnings: second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook. I have a tremendous weakness with dilf, no matter who it is, I just love them. I think this was the first one I read by Jungkook. It was so fun and easy to read that the 14.7k words flew by for me.

Silk & Stones by @taegularities KTH

Summary: “Taehyung was a writer… he was a writer indeed.” Kim Taehyung knows his way around words – they cast a spell on your heart and mind, leave you gasping dangerously fast. Until the mystery behind his persona unveils and his touch, along with his words, becomes a vivid memory. warnings: writer + violinist tae 🥺 who’s a gentleman in the 19th century, brief mention of injuries/a mental institution, misunderstandings, heartbreak, secrets, grief, much poetry (and my attempt at writing a poem, pls spot), much disgoosting fluff, flirting and lots of sexual tension; explicit sexual content: 2 sex(y) scenes, fingering on a boat, choking, teasing, begging, praising, soft dom!tae, big dick!tae, tiddie fondling/sucking, some manhandling, dirty talk, they’re just so cute :((, oral (f. and m. receiving), some masturbation, oc is into neck kisses, some biting, fingering, hair pulling, asking for permission :(, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it’s the 19th century...), aftercare; there’s quite some angst ok; lmk if i forgot smth !! This was a work of art for me. I felt so immersed in the story, so confused by the time changes and everything surrounding Taehyung, but I loved it, one of the best stories I've read of Taehyung since I joined tumblr.

17 going on 27 by @hansolmates JJK

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england. I love adaptations, especially ones that add their own touch, and the writer did it so well. She made me hate Jungkook, and then love him, and then hate him again, in the end I ended up resenting him, I wanted reader to stay with Jin lol, but I still loved it. Definitely my favorite part was having Jimin as a best friend, I loved watching him take on Jungkook in the car. We all need a friend like him.

Hot Bot by @httpjeon JJK/PJM/KTH/JHS

JJK: You order a sex robot online after getting a coupon for half off. however, there’s something strange about yours. PJM: Fear is primal and causes one to make stupid decisions. KTH: Your parents have a gift for you, however, there’s been a mistake. JHS: As a product tester, you have one of the most sought after temporary positions in Hot Bot Inc. This is a series that has smut, I think the name gives it away. It's rather sad that the writer is on hiatus, but he left the gems of his works open to the public. The series is pretty good, I fell in love with Jungkook (and Yoongi kskjdsksjds). Highly recommended.

The proposal by @hansolmates JJK

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always. I was looking for an adaptation of this movie for so long that when I found this one I almost cried with emotion. I LOVED the movie and the concept it had, and I was so happy to read this fic that captures that very romcom essence that the movie has. I loved it.

Marshmallows and report cards by @untaemedqueen KTH

Warnings: Impreg Kink, Marking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Birthday Sex, Spitting, Begging, Praise, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Big Dick!Tae, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, Possessive!Tae, Cock Warming, Creampie. I already confessed, this kind of fics get to me. I remember reading it and melting with the ending. I read it a long time ago, so I can't give a longer opinion, but I do remember that I loved it and came out internally squealing after I finished it.

Orange tulips by @kainks JJK

Summary: You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time. Genre: Angst. Fluff. Light Smut. The anxiety and helplessness I felt reading this fic are on another level. This scarred me, I read it once and I was never the same person again. It was wonderful, I felt so many things and I was so nervous during the whole reading that I almost didn't even realize when it was over. It is a very enjoyable fic.

What if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime

Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself. Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood. This fic left me feeling bad, it even made me question some future decisions regarding my relationship with my future partner and the necessary communication that must be had in a relationship from the beginning, especially if there is a child in the middle. It was something I really enjoyed reading, and even though I had my internal dilemmas with Jungkook, the drabbles in the story helped me a lot to let go of my grudge (I swear I have nothing personal with him sksjkajskajsj).

[coraniaid]

It's true that the Buffy writers' answers to the closely related questions "is there a meaningful distinction between a vampire and the human being who was sired to create them?" and "when you get down to it, are vampires basically people?" clearly undergo something of a shift in the second half of the show.

This is a transformation that starts with Buffy's reluctance to stake Willow's vampire alter ego in Season 3's Doppelgangland and continues at pace with the gang's collective reaction to finding out that Harmony has "become" a vampire in Season 4. It's a process that continues as long as Harmony remains a recurring character on the show, until, by mid-Season 5, Buffy (and Buffy) has essentially undergone a complete switch in its view of vampirism. The later seasons handling of vampires are very hard to square with the speeches made by Buffy in Lie To Me ("you die, and a demon sets up a shop in your old house [...] but it's not you") or Giles to Xander [about the late and largely unlamented Jesse] in The Harvest ("you're not looking at your friend: you're looking at the thing that killed him"). Whether this is a change for the better or not is a matter for debate, but that it is a real change that happens is pretty hard to dispute.

It's also true that the writers are obviously increasingly reluctant to show their show's protagonist, the titular vampire slayer, actually going around killing vampires. At least any vampires who've had a chance to establish some sort of personality. How many of the dozen or so named, recurring vampire characters does Buffy actually kill over the course of the show? Not very many.

I make it two in Season 1 (if you're generous and count Luke as a recurring character), one in Season 2 (if you're similarly generous and count Buffy sending Angel to hell for almost three whole episodes as killing him) and ... that's it, right? Somebody other than Buffy kills Darla [=Angel], and Colin the Anointed One [=Spike], and Dalton [=the Judge], and Mr Trick [=Faith], and vamp!Willow [=wishverse!Oz, twice] and Sunday's only-named-in-the script henchvamp Tom [=the Initiative], and Sandy [=Riley], and Spike[=... well, Spike, ultimately, I guess]. Nobody ever kills Drusilla or Lyle Gorch or Harmony, all of whom make multiple appearances on the show and (un)live to the end of the series. And Angel and Spike (and even Darla, eventually and temporarily) all come back after apparently being killed.

Buffy might have a sacred calling to slay vampires, but the show is very uncomfortable about her killing non-human characters who've had a chance to establish themselves as people. Perhaps that's why the show stops having vampiric Big Bads completely after Season 2, and why Season 7 tries to introduce a whole new category of personality-free, definitely-not-people monsters to replace its existing vampires. (Perhaps not entirely succesfully, if we're being diplomatic.)

It's certainly true that the show does not have a consistent take to offer on vampire lore. Like everything supernatural in Buffy, vampires are essentially walking metaphors: and the things that they exist to represent and comment on change and evolve throughout the show's run. Buffy's worldbuilding is not very deep or rigorous.

But what's not true at all, and what I wish people would stop claiming, is the idea that Angel's awkward "well, actually..." when Buffy assures Willow in Doppelgangland that "a vampire's personality has nothing to do with the person it was" represents some sort of big departure from the show's established or implied lore up to that point. It does not. At all.

In fact, it's Buffy's claim that is at odds with everything that the show has been saying up this point. A vampire's personality has always, always been something that the show wants us to believe is informed by the personality of the person who died to create them, This goes all the way back to Season 1.

In Angel, Giles does tell Buffy flat out that "a vampire isn't a person at all", but he also says that a vampire may have "the memories, even the personality of the person that it took over". In the part of her speech from Lie To Me that I elided earlier, Buffy admits that if you're turned the resulting vampire "walks, and it talks, and it remembers your life" [and the clear implication here is that the vampire walks and talks like the original person did, otherwise what is this supposed to be saying?].

If the show's original position was that a vampire's personality had nothing to do with who they were in life, why would Giles have felt the need to tell Buffy (in Season 1's Never Kill A Boy On The First Date) that Andrew Borba had been on the run for a suspected double murder the night he died and rose as a vampire? Why would he have told her in Season 2's Bad Eggs that the Gorch brothers "massacred a village" before they were vampires? Why would he warn her in Season 3's Helpess that Zachary Kralik was a "criminally insane" serial killer even before being sired as a vampire? If the show -- or even just Giles himself -- really did have the position that a vampire's personality has nothing to do with the person they were before death, as Buffy claims in Doppelgangland (and some fans apparently believe), how would any of this make sense?

If we weren't supposed to think vampires inherited at least some part of their personality from their host then why, in The Harvest, would vampire!Jesse still be obsessed with pursuing Cordelia Chase? Why would Drusilla still be driven mad as a vampire as a result of the pyschological tortures that Angel inflicted on "her" when she was a mortal? In Halloween, why would Buffy be trying to find out more about the sort of person Angel was as a human? Why would Willow and Xander still be together in the world of The Wish?

The idea that a vampire inherits the personality of the person whose body they take over [or who they were before "becoming" a vampire, in the later seasons' parlance] isn't any kind of retcon. It's one of the few consistent takes on vampires the show had from beginning to end. Continuity of self; moral standing as a person; capacity for self-reflection and personal growth, whether or not vampires can breathe ... these are the things about vampires the show changes its stance on. But a vampire's personality was always informed by who they were in life, right from the very first pair of episodes.

(Spike and Drusilla being capable of at least some kind of romantic love and mutual jealousy in Season 2 is also not a retcon, incidentally. We saw that with Darla and Angel in Season 1 as well. And even the Master clearly felt emotions and had some sort of affection for his favorites among the vampires that worked for him. Spike and Dru do represent a significant -- and welcome! --change in the tone of the show, but they aren't somehow a walking refutation of what Giles has been telling Buffy (and through her, us) about vampires for the past year.)

I mean, I don't really have a big point to work to here, it's just that I keep seeing takes on my dash about how this particular scene represents a big change in the show's lore about vampires. And that .. just isn't true?

[smytherines]

Fuck it, here's an Agent Mega dissertation

Alright since I have such elaborate headcanon for my beloved precious Owen Carvour, I guess I should do it for Agent Curt Mega too. Sigh.

So, going off of the last big one, if Owen is born in 1928, then I'm gonna say Curt was born in 1930. I'm forever won to the Texan agent mega headcanon, but I think it's safe to say that Mrs. Mega is not from Texas, probably more like New York or I've seen people say New Jersey.

We know nothing about Agent Mega's dad, but I imagine he was kind of a loser and low level con artist and moved his pregnant wife down to Texas to do scams around the bustling oil industry, and then soon after Curt was born a scam collapsed and he ran off. It's either that or an Aladdin 3 situation where he was secretly a spy the whole time and had to go into hiding.

So we've got mama Mega, raising a VERY hyperactive (read: ADHD) little boy on her own, in a place where she doesn't have any support, and he just becomes her entire world. But she has to work a lot, so Curt becomes used to taking care of himself, and most importantly- keeping himself busy so he doesn't lose it.

In this headcanon Curt would only be 15 when WWII ends- not old enough to fight, but definitely old enough to have personally known a lot of kids from his hometown who come home in caskets. I just truly think of WWII as a formative experience for both these guys. For Curt it just feeds into that inferiority complex.

Now anybody who has ADHD knows that you already spend a lot of your life feeling inadequate, feeling self-conscious about not being able to be the person other people want you to be (*especially* if you're queer). You get defensive, especially when criticized. You also get restless.

I headcanon Curt as growing up in Abilene, Texas, mostly because I have a friend who grew up there and I've visited and the vibe is right.

I don't know if anybody has ever seen The Last Picture Show, but its a film set in small town Texas in 1951-1952 (so a little late for our timeline but still) and it's (more or less) about two high school seniors essentially trying to escape this suffocatingly small, dying town before they become doomed to spend their lives trapped there.

That's definitely what I think about Agent Mega too- this gay, ADHD teenage boy climbing the walls of this little town, never being able to fully be himself. But he's got a lot of energy (and more than a little anger) to burn off, so he does sports. It's Texas, so football for sure. Maybe wrestling too. Perhaps wrestling is even where he has his gay come to jesus moment.

And when he isn't doing sports, he's home, alone (mama Mega is working so hard), out back drinking a beer (or two, or three) and teaching himself how to shoot. I think he becomes hyperfixated on becoming an expert marksman, because with all of this shit he cannot control, all the stuff he is supposed to be but isn't, this is one area where it feels like he has the power here.

What starts off as "kid drinking beer to feel cool and rebellious" starts to morph into a lifetime dependence on alcohol. Substance use is a big issue for a lot of ADHDers for the same reason I think it would be for Curt- it calms him down. It eases that constant restlessness in his bones. It softens the edges of other people's criticisms of him. It makes him care a bit less what others think about him.

In a vicious cycle, he drinks to avoid feeling those big feelings (especially as a man, especially as a gay man, especially as a gay man in Texas), but the drinking leads to more criticism, which leads to more drinking to numb the emotional response to that criticism.

But his hyperfixation on learning to shoot pays off. Let's say he becomes a junior state champion trapshooter (did I look up trapshooting competitions from the 1940s? yes I did). He's good, especially when he hits the sweet spot of drinking just enough to calm his ass down but not so much that he's useless. Maybe this is how he comes to the attention of the A.S.S.

And he fully believes that these skills he cultivated, the ability to hit hard and run fast and shoot accurately, his ability to escape when it doesn't feel remotely possible, is why many years later he just kinda rolls his eyes at Owen for insisting that they do things carefully and methodically. Careful didn't get him out of small town Texas. Careful didn't get him the exciting non-stop life he has now, a life where he *almost* gets to be himself a lot of the time.

When Owen "dies," and its Curt's fault, he naturally turns to drinking to numb that pain. But its a lot of pain, so it takes a lot of alcohol to kill it.

I'm sure I could go on, but as always I have rambled a lot here so I'm just gonna leave it.

[spoiled-milk]

making out w/ volks, cashew, and logan

a/n: ok so i wrote volks and cashews for part like 3 months ago then got possessed then wrote logans part so i wouldn’t have to study the central nervous system. enjoy ur crumbs blush blush fandom

content warning: some slight nsfw but nothing like crazy explicit me thinks. not proofread or revised (will do so later 🫡)

word count: ~600 words

volks is possessive of you. he's a little jealous of others who get to be around you, but he just wants you all to himself so how could you blame him when he tears you away from the large crowd and into a small supply closet at the club you were at. you feel him place harsh kisses on your neck as you wrap your arms around him. his hands roam your body as he continues to litter your neck in hickeys and soft bites. he unbuttons your top slightly as he continues to bite at your skin. after several bite marks on your chest, he moves for your lips. unlike the bites volks has left on your body, his kisses on your lips are gentle and soft. he wants to do nothing but envelope himself in everything that has to do with you. your scent, your saliva, your pheromones, all of it. he may not be part wolf anymore, but he still has that primitive animalistic side of him that wants nothing more than to keep you all to himself with the marks to prove it.

cashew is inexperienced, but a very quick learner. the only experience he has was through reading romance and smut novels at the local library. things started off with him reading a passage out of his book to you, but then things started to escalate when you kiss him. it started off gentle until he puts his book away and uses his hands to cup the back of your head instead. cashew has never been in that many relationships and he's not sure if he's doing things right, but judging by the way you bunch up his shirt in your hands, he has a feeling that he's probably doing something correct. he runs his fingers through your hair as you move to straddle his lap. he lets you take charge as you run your hands under his shirt. cashew can feel his blood run boiling hot as you continue to lock lips with him. you peek through your eyelashes and see that cashew's face is entirely red as you slip his jacket off so that he's left in his white t-shirt.

it’s no secret that logan is a big guy. big man with big muscles who could probably crush you with no effort whatsoever. logan is careful with how he handles you, scared that he’ll accidentally hurt you. he knows that he won’t but when he looks at you, he essentially sees you as a human sized squishmallow. coming back from a long evening shift, he sees you slumped on the couch asleep. he certainly feels bad for making you stay up late waiting for him when he was forced was asked to pick up a shift, but the sight that blesses him at this very moment makes everything worth it to him. the sun’s rays slightly illuminate your facial features and makes you look like an angel. he feels his heart race as he reaches you. he effortlessly lifts you from the couch and moves you into his bedroom. you stir in his arms and he can see the drowsiness in your eyes. “good morning sleepyhead. i hope i didn’t keep you waiting all night for me.” you shake your head at logan’s words. “not really. just tired after doing work ‘n whatnot.” logan sets you down into his bed and he joins you after taking off his work clothes. he pulls you into his arms as he plants a soft kiss on your temple then your lips. you can’t help but pull him in for a longer passionate kiss after that. the smell of hickory and cedar fill your nostrils as you continue to kiss him. the two of you separate for air and logan plants a kiss on your forehead and ushers you to go back to sleep. you comply and he cradles you in his arms and he eventually succumbs to sleep

[projectbluearcadia]

The Warmth of Iolite

Comfort - Lucifer x GN!MC

[ Scenario - You've just failed an important test, and you're panicking about your future to the point of isolating yourself and shutting down. Suffice to say Lucifer's not having it. Better get ready for the BIG SQUEEZE™ ]

This one goes out to @mirai06. Also college students because university is stressful as hell and y'all need hugs.

TW - DEPRESSIVE THOUGHTS

Wordcount - 1539

Today is officially the worst day of your life. Like the other shit in your life wasn’t enough, you just bombed an important midterm exam, and now you’re essentially screwed as far as your career goes. Why couldn’t that damn professor at least offer extra credit or some assignments to balance everything out? But no, no excuses, it’s your own fault, right? In this damn world, you either sink or swim, and you got a leg cramp, so now you sink. Sink, and sink, in the middle of the sea at night where no one has the ability or desire to help. 

Haha, wouldn’t it be something if you drowned?

Not like anyone would notice. You’re insignificant to them anyway. 

Just one little human among billions. 

Easily replaced. 

So…easily…

Your hand hovers on the door to the House of Lamentation, and your lip quivers before a sudden sob erupts from your mouth, and tears spill down your eyes. I wanted to go home so bad, but what’s the point? It’s not like it’ll make me feel any better about this whole bullshit situation. Mammon and Levi will make fun of me. Satan will get pissy because he spent so long tutoring me. Asmo and Beel won’t get it. Belphie won’t care. Even my own boyfriend…

You take your hand away from the door handle and resign to sitting on the steps of the House of Lamentation, and bury your head against your knees. What else is there to do but cry? 

“MC?” Your sobs choke themselves short at the deep, surprised voice above you. Of course Lucifer has to come home now. Of course, because he’s always protective of you. “What happened?” 

“Nothing,” you mumble, wiping your eyes against your knees. Like hell if Lucifer is going to buy that frothing pile of bullshit. 

So, without batting an eye, Lucifer picks you up, drags you inside the house, and carries you straight to his bedroom, where he shortly closes and locks the door. You know him well enough to realize you’re not escaping this room unless he lets you.

“What. Happened?”

“...can we not talk about it?” 

“No. We’re talking about it.” 

“Stop being a bossy asshole. I don’t want to talk about it. ” 

“I don’t care. MC, you can’t expect me to see you so distraught and not be curious about the reason.” He’s right; you can’t. He knows when you lie, and the only secret he lets you keep is what underwear you’re wearing to bed, a secret which he usually doesn’t let you keep for long.

“Are you going to let me go if I say that my life’s a fucking mess and I don’t know what to do anymore?”  Lucifer pauses for a long, shocked moment, blinking at you once or twice before his arms are around you, tight enough that you’re almost wheezing for breath as he squeezes you. Still, the smell of his smoky clothing, the feel of the fluff on his coat smothering your face, the gentle weight against you—it’s comforting and familiar, and it reminds you of the cuddling sessions, the late night chatter, the dates… 

“I’m not letting you go for the rest of the night,” he murmurs against your head, and you feel a fresh set of tears burst forth, your body starting to shake uncontrollably. “Not when you’re like this. You can cry, MC. And when you’ve cried and cried and let everything out, we’re going to talk.” 

And you do cry. You want to cry. You’re practically bawling into Lucifer’s chest, half-screaming sobs escaping your shuddering lips while Lucifer runs his hands through your hair, nursing his fingers against your scalp and murmuring soft sweet nothings. You can’t hear a word he’s saying over your harsh, sniffling gasps, but there’s a part of you that finds it soothing nonetheless. He doesn’t say a word about the snot and tears and saliva drenching his shoulder, and you find yourself loving him for that simple fact. 

Eventually, you’re calm enough to at least tell Lucifer what happened and why you’re so upset, and he listens quietly and patiently to every word. The anger, the pain, the sadness, the despair, the dread—he takes it in as you convey it. And, finally, when you’re finished, Lucifer opens his mouth. 

“MC, whether or not you’re jumping to conclusions about the effects of this test on your career progress, this is not the end of the world.”

“But since I failed this, I can’t make the grade, and if I can’t make the grade, then I can’t pass this class, and it’s required for my major…” 

“So what if you don’t pass, MC? Just take it again.” 

“But I can’t pass it,” you retort. “Plus that costs even more.”

“First of all, MC, you’re investing in something you want. It’s no different from making a payment on a car. Second of all, you can pass it. Did you use the resources available to you? And before you answer that, if you’re absolutely certain that this genuinely isn’t in your aptitude, then you just need to find something else you want to do. Within a human limit, you can do whatever you’d like with your life—that is very much your choice. It’s your choice to let your mistakes stop you from moving forward, just like it’s your choice to open up to me. MC, the past has passed, and we live in the present.”

“But what if I make the same mistake? What if I can’t recover from the debt?” 

“If you go into this doubting yourself, you’re already part of the way to making the same mistake. MC, if you tell yourself you can’t do something, you will eventually believe it. Humans are fortunately or unfortunately adept at brainwashing themselves given enough time, so I need you to turn yourself in the other direction. I can and will help you get there, but this is your life and your mind.”

I’m not sure if I want it to be.

“My mind is fucked up too.” 

“Then we un-fuck it,” he replies, taking hold of your hands with an awry smile. “Life can throw you whatever bullshit it wants, but you can still make the most of it. Let’s suppose you really are barred from your dream job by one or two mistakes. Is that the only way you’ll be happy? Once you enter the workforce with your major in hand, then what? What if the only job opening you can get with that degree pays nothing? What if it pays, but we never get to see each other? Enjoy yourself. While you’re…” Lucifer’s voice catches, and you feel a pit form in your stomach as you see an old wound flash in his eyes. “Still alive.” 

“You’re talking about the past being already behind us, but you’re still hovering on it,” you accuse, and Lucifer closes his eyes. 

“The past is behind us. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss people that aren’t there anymore. MC, what I'm trying to say is that you can't go through your life carrying your every mistake on your back. Believe me, I tried, and you were the one who made me realize that it wasn't healthy."  

"Me?" You blink at him, almost as if second-guessing that you’re looking at your boyfriend. 

"Do our late-night talks not ring a bell?" Lucifer chuckles, cupping your face in his hands. "When I say that you are precious to me, I mean it in full sincerity. To take the words out of your mouth, you are my lightbringer, MC.” 

“Am I still going to be special to you if I turn into a worthless mess of a human being?” you mutter bitterly, avoiding his face.

“Yes,” was his simple answer, and as he turned your face back towards his own, you saw the sweetness that filled up his body—sweetness that was completely yours to ask for, because he really would do anything for you. “Even if I’m no longer in your life, you will always be special to me, and I will always be waiting for your stories of success to reach my ears. MC, you’ve been through a lot, and this setback might feel like the last straw, but there’s no such thing as a “last straw” as long as we keep living. 

“I want you to find a way to shoulder only the responsibilities you can control in the here and now. I want you to look at the weather forecast tomorrow, see a 50% chance of rain and not blindly assume you’ll receive a torrential downpour just because you go outside. That’s not how probability works.  

“Maybe you’ll have a hard time in the future because of this. But hard times don’t last forever, understand? And your family here will be with you, cheering you on through it all, pushing you forward.” 

Lucifer leans his forehead against yours, and you find yourself closing your eyes as the tranquil heat of his skin sinks into yours, a feeling of security enveloping you as he intertwines your fingers together. Here, you are protected. Here, he protects you. 

“Hold your head with pride, MC. The present is yours for the taking.”

[littleguyconnor]

Sleeping with the mercs (literally) <3

Engineer: Has no concept of a sleep schedule, when he goes to bed is completely random every night. But the times when the both of you do go to sleep together, he’s very cuddly. He might be a little shy at first, but he gets over it once you wind up tangled in each others arms in the morning. His room is kept pretty simple I think, since he doesn’t stay in there often, but there’s some overflow of things from his garage. Sheets are light and airy from living in Texas, but the heater definitely comes on in the winter.

Scout: Also has no sleep schedule, though he’s more prone to passing out around midnight. Talkative up until the very moment he falls asleep because his mind is racing constantly. Probably still has a twin sized mattress so it’s pretty cramped, but he’s long and thin so cuddling makes enough room for both of you. He moves around a lot though, so sometimes the blankets end up on the floor in the middle of the night. Prefers to keep his room on the cooler side.

Demoman: Goes to bed pretty late, but it’s always around the same time. Very open to cuddling, loves to be the big spoon. Snores a little, but nothing too obstructive. Mattress is soft and squishy with big, thick comforters. Lots of quilts stacked on top of them that his mom made, which essentially act as a weighted blanket. Room is on the chillier side, but all the bedding prevents it from being uncomfortable. Sleeps like a rock.

Soldier: Has an extremely strict schedule and follows it exactly every single night with no exceptions. He’s kind of like a cartoon character in that he'll pull out a book, read one sentence, and then immediately pass out and start snoring. Doesn’t mind cuddling but you have to be the big spoon. His sheets and room are kept very plain, he just has the bare essentials and not much else. The bed is comfortable, though, and there’s a little raccoon stuffed animal he sleeps with every night. Room is kept pretty cold, but he’s warm so it’s okay.

Pyro: Has a set bedtime and routine they like to follow, which includes keeping a nightlight on. Bed is soft with tons of blankets and stuffed animals piled on top of it almost like a nest. If enclosed spaces feel secure and comforting to you, Pyro’s bed is the perfect place to be. Room is kept pretty warm. Heavy sleeper to a comical degree, if a fire alarm went off they’d still be snoozing. Curls up in bed like a cat.

Sniper: Goes to bed early, but doesn’t actually fall asleep until way later. It takes a while for him to get comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with someone, but once he does, he’s very clingy and very affectionate. Loves to be both the big and little spoon, it doesn’t matter which. It’s definitely cramped in his van, which means cuddling is necessary if you both want to fit. It gets a little cold at night, so he layers a heated blanket over the rest of the bedding. Wakes up early in the morning.

Heavy: The only one with a healthy bedtime. He has a lamp next to his bed so that he can read a bit before sleeping, and sometimes he falls asleep with the book still in his hands. Bed is very very large and very very comfortable. Thick comforters, fur blankets, fluffy pillows, everything is built to keep heat in and the cold out. He’s like a personal heater, this man radiates warmth. Likes to sleep side by side with you so he doesn’t accidentally crush you.

Medic: You have to drag this man into bed, he will not sleep otherwise. He’s usually exhausted though, so he falls asleep quickly once he’s actually in bed. Likes cuddling and being cuddled, and his chest is the perfect place to lay on. His room is cluttered with jars of unidentified substances and creatures, books, medical tools, and scattered papers. His bed is the only cleared off space, mainly because he doesn’t ever use it. Room is chilly, but he also radiates heat so it’s never uncomfortable.

Spy: Usually goes to bed at around midnight. His living quarters and room are usually off limits to anyone but himself, so inviting you in is a big show of trust for him. He’s not much of a cuddler, but he’ll hold you for as long as you want if you ask him. Sheets and blankets are silky smooth and soft and have just the faintest smell of smoke. His room itself is very lavish with warm lighting. He has a fireplace that keeps the room nice and toasty.

[edutainer2022]

A bit of angst that kept rolling around in my brain. Gordon doesn't hold his tongue by accident. Scott is being Scott. The Mechanic unassumingly saves the day. It never came up there was only one pilot to man Zero-X... Emotions run a bit thin and raw the closer it gets to Zero-XL launch.

ONE FOR ALL

There were things they didn't say to Scott. Not even in jest or in the heat of the argument. Not even at the peak of exasperation. But Gordon was not mad. Gordon was happy - all of his dearest dreams were coming to pass almost at once. Penny (pretty definitely) liked him back and they were going to get Dad. He hadn't felt this giddy since the Olympic pedestal. So he slipped.

Scott was a man possessed these past weeks, once the T-drive was firmly underway, courtesy of the Mechanic, running them rugged with drills and contingency upon contingency scenarios. Grandma tutted, but kept to herself. John and Eos designed elaborate simulations to take the brunt off some. Alan asked Virgil quietly if that was how Dad had been. Gordon didn't remember very well himself, but judging from Virgil's sigh it was exactly how Dad was way back when. Gordon didn't mind at first. Or at all, really. He got it. In space everything was out to get you, and they were all going beyond the event horizon with potentially lethal experimental equipment and no back up available for light years around. Who knew what they'd find there, besides Dad. Actually, the carefully sidestepped elephant in every room they ever stayed together these days was just that - what they would or wouldn't find there, among the stars. Gordon didn't mind as well because he wanted to be sure his top form was back after the crash. Not just run of the mill aquatic resques ready, but deep space mission of a lifetime ready. But it was a long day, and a long drill, and Scott was wound up for another go, while Gordon had a call scheduled with Penny. Because they did this now - holocalled and chatted about everything and nothing, working around commitments and time zones. And so Gordon let an innocuous enough "Gee, bro, calling five! Some of us DO have a life, you know!" roll off his tongue, before it was too late. It wasn't too late to dress it as a joke, though, which it WAS. No harm, no foul. Except he noticed Scott freeze for a second, eyes dark and jaw set. But more importantly it was hard to miss Virgil's wide-eyed panic glare, directed his way.

Gordon would have chalked it up to Virgil overreacting, because Virgil always overreacted around anything that could potentially, finally, shatter Scott. Would have, were they not assembled in the lounge the next day, Scott making a disturbingly compelling case why they shouldn't ALL be risking the trip to Oort Cloud and how it was not prudent to remove ALL Thunderbirds at once from the solar system. Big brother had clearly given it some considerable thought, which should have quietened the sickening guilt that took up residence in Gordon's stomach overnight, but somehow didn't.

Scott was calm and completely rational - it scared Gordon even more than what big brother was saying: Zero-XL, like Zero-X, was designed to be manned by one pilot, if need be. Dad did so and it worked. The T-drive frame could be propelled by Three. No need to haul all other birds (brothers, all other brothers plus Kayo and Brains!) across the galaxy and remove Five from orbit. It was, essentially, a scout mission, like they did a thousand times with One. It would only need a first responder pilot - Scott, obviously. If things went south in Oort Cloud - Scott would send Zero-XL back to Earth with a message, so the brothers would know to go get him, or not. In any event they would have Three back.

Gordon was perceptive enough to read between the lines what the abject horror in Virgil's gaze was already spelling in pooled up tears - a) Scott decided, unilaterally, he was to go alone because, unlike everyone else, he had nothing to loose, and b) Scott was not going back if Dad were not there, alive. If there was a (c) there, it got lost in the utter chaos that erupted.

Alan cried bloody betrayal through already abundant angry tears. John threw his tablet across the lounge into the wall with such force it shattered. Brains was so astonished he actually began reciting the variables of it being a viable plan, when Grandma put a firm hand on his shoulder, making him stutter to a stop. Virgil was calling Scott's name under his breath, in a nonsensical plea that always, as far back as Gordon could remember, came down to the mantra "please don't, don't go where I can't follow".

Scott was composed and quiet, as he sat back down on the couch, a serene smile landing on Virgil, then Alan. A glimmer in his eyes, though, belied a fever to fight for his decision. Taking advantage of the general frenzy, Gordon slid off the seat and crouched before Scott, practically kneeling, making sure the big brother had his attention. He wasn't vain enough to think his off-handed comment singlehandedly triggered this... whatever brand of martyrdom Scott was up to this time. But he wasn't taking any chances either. Okay, so maybe Gordon wasn't a Sam to Scott's Frodo. That was Virgil. Scott carried the Burden and Virgil dragged Scott away from the haunted murky depths. But Gordon certainly could be a Merry. He could do something stupid and brave. So he spoke in a rushed, heated wisper:

- Hey, big brother! You DARE go alone, I promise I will stow away on board - you'll never find me. You couldn't find me at Gran Roca, and you wouldn't now. And I WILL pour sugar into Centurium deposit if Brains says it's too risky for you to go. You hear me?!

Scott reached out to pull him up by his shoulders, miraculously unperturbed, and equally not mad. If Gordon had been worried before, he was now Virgil levels of petrified.

The salvation came from the least likely source, not for the first time in so many months - the Mechanic. Summoned to the lounge earlier with all the other inhabitants of the villa, he was hanging on the perifery through Scott's speech. If they figured the Mechanic to be anything through their rocky "collaboration", it was to not be one to sugarcoat things. So he didn't that time either. He would pull apart the T-drive, destroy the specs, and surrender back to GDF custody before he agreed to the "neurotic maniac" (direct quote) to go anywhere near it unsupervised. And he wouldn't subscribe to the T-drive being tested in action without an engineer on board "he could actually trust". That settled the argument right where it started. And if things nearly came to blows, there were enough hands on deck available to haul Scott away. Up and all the way into the movie room away.

If Grandma mouthed an inaudible "thank you", the Mechanic just shrugged. If John was intercepted, leaning his forehead on the hatch of the space elevator and punching it methodically - Gordon didn't comment. He got it. John was mad at Scott. Gordon was mad at himself. They both were mad at the set of circumstances that lead their biggest brother to believe in earnest he was dispensible. They all were mad Scott was the first one to beat them to the suggestion of giving only one brother up for the mission. First responder, as ever. Big brother, as ever. They all needed Dad to be found for it all to veer into any semblance of healing. In the meantime, they all clung to each other through a mirthless movie night with almost paranoid vigilance.

Gordon mused, idly, he would still need to bum detailed Zero-XL specs off of Brains, to go over potential stow away nooks.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the fox

Chapter 10 of maybe 30ish (2186 words)

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"Day 1 are you ready?" Jimin asks as he hands you a brown bag.

You sneak a look inside to find it filled with snacks to get you through the day along with a post-it note that you can't quite read from this angle. You fold the bag closed carefully and thank Jimin for the lunch.

"Yeah, I'm ready, at least as ready as I'm ever going to be."

"It'll be great I'm sure. You said you already kind of made a friend right?"

"Taehyung? I'm not sure he was a bit hot and cold, but I'll be okay, I'm a big girl."

Jimin sweeps you into a hug before you can even reach for the door. You indulge him, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of being held close. He sends you off, standing at the door as you walk down the drive and around the corner, standing there until you can no longer see the door.

____________

The office is still relatively empty when you walk through the doors. The same severe-looking lady is standing at reception. You offer a smile which she returns.

"Y/N welcome back. Glad to see you got the position. I don't think I introduced myself the other day. My name is Ronnie and we will be working closely together."

Ronnie shows you officially around the office pointing out various essentials that you would need to know within your first few days. It feels as though you should have a notepad to write down all of the information you are being fed at lightning speed. Only about half of the information sticks in your brain.

It's not a humongous office. Maybe 10 cubicles and 3 offices with real walls. 2 conference rooms sit at the far end of the space. The company specialises in helping foreigners to move to the country assisting in work placement and visa procurement. You are introduced to the other two people that have already arrived in the office and then Estelle is setting you up with her at the front desk.

She hands you a brand new company-branded stationary set with your company ID tag and login information. Then she leaves you to breathe, fetching a drink from the break room. Slowly people filter in through the main doors, introducing themselves to you as they go. Everyone is extremely welcoming but you can't help but notice the absence of the asshole from the other day and Taehyung.

You set about answering phone calls and forwarding emails as Estelle had shown you, it was boring busy work but it certainly beat hanging at home alone doing nothing at all. Sometime just before lunch Taehyung finally strolls through the doors. He grins cheekily at your colleague as she chastises him for being late.

"Don't think you're special just because of how you got the job Taehyung-ah, you have to get here on time just like the rest of us."

"I know Estelle, I just didn't fancy getting out of bed this morning." He shrugs.

The panda grabs a handful of candy from the dish in front of Estelle and sauntered into the main room. The older woman grumbles under her breath about disrespect but the look on her face is one of pure adoration, not dissimilar to the look a grandmother might have when her grandson plays up.

"Don't go around getting ideas from him, that boy's trouble." She says to you.

"Am not!" Taehyung calls from behind the half wall that separates the main room from reception. "Hey Y/N we are going for lunch in thirty minutes okay?"

You don't respond to the disembodied voice as it calls out to you, opting to focus on the work you'd been assigned instead.

True to his word he reappeared in front of you exactly 30 minutes later carrying your brown bag and a bento box of his own.

"Come on there's a lovely little park for a picnic across the road. You get an hour for lunch."

You glance at Estelle but she just shakes her head and signals for you to go with him.

__________

The park is a very short walk away. Almost directly opposite the building, if your offices had been on the opposite side it would've provided the cutest view. Taehyung produced a blanket from a tote bag you hadn't noticed and laid it on the floor for you to sit on together.

It was a really beautiful day with no clouds, but it was a little chilly. This close to winter an outdoor picnic was an interesting choice. The breeze makes you shiver just a little. Before you even get a chance to shield yourself, Taehyung has produced another blanket to drape over your shoulders.

"I love the cold, my DNA is built for it, but I sometimes forget others aren't as accustomed... But this time I remembered!" He claps his hands together clearly proud of himself.

He opens his bento box and produces 3 courses worth of meals. He has white rice with some kind of marinated tofu, a salad with balsamic vinegar, and cookies. There is also a small Thermus from which you can smell the tea as soon as he twists it open.

"Go on then what did you bring for lunch? Maybe we can do swapsies, I don't really fancy tofu." He reaches eagerly for your bag, not giving you a chance to snatch it bag.

He pulls out your chicken sandwiches that Jimin had wrapped messily in the last of the tinfoil roll. Then he reaches in for the apple and crisps, coming back with the note that had been sitting in the bottom.

"Y/N have an amazing first day we are so proud and can't wait to celebrate again when you get home, Jimin." Taehyung reads aloud. "Who is Jimin? You're boyfriend? I'm hurt you would lead me on this way Y/N"

Taehyung mocks being shot through the heart, dramatically falling back onto the blanket as he clutches the pink note in his hand.

"I can't have led you on in less than two conversations Taehyung. And Jimin's no one... just a friend."

You reach to grab the note back from him but he keeps it just out of reach causing you to tumble into his lap.

"Well maybe I should try to make him my boyfriend, I want little notes in my lunch too." He pouts.

His breath tickles your face as you try to scramble back up without flattening him in the process. He just laughs at your efforts and makes no effort to help you get off of him. Although he does hand you the note back.

He takes your crisps and gives you his cookies as a consolation prize. He asks you various questions and you strategically avoid answering them directly the same way you'd done with everyone else. What you didn't expect was for him to be doing the same. You couldn't tell why exactly but you were fairly certain there were things he was omitting from his story as he told you how he came to work at the firm with you.

Lunch comes to an end very quickly and you help him pack up the blankets that don't seem to want to fit back in the bag they came from. Eventually, he just punches them until they are in enough to carry them back. He deposits you back at your desk dead on one hour after you left and then disappears for the remainder of the day.

_____________

Apparently, it would seem working takes a lot out of a person. By the time you trudge back into the cottage at 6:00 pm, you are shattered. It seems impossible not having done that much and yet you can't keep your eyelids from drooping and your ass hurts from sitting for so long.

Jungkook is the only one home when you walk through the door. The only part of him you can see are his ears peaking up over the sofa trying to determine who just walked through the front door. You expect them to droop a little when he realises it's you but instead they twitch excitedly.

"Hey Jungkook, did you have a good day." You ask, approaching the living room slowly.

"Yeah, iI didn't do much." He answers.

"Do you want some dinner? Or shall we wait until the others are home?"

You peer over the back of the sofa and watch him playing on his switch until he is at a point where he can pause and speak to you.

"I wanna wait." He glances up at you briefly and then back to his game.

"Okay in which case I'm going to change, work clothes still feel too weird to relax in."

You go to the study and change into sweats. You're pretty sure the front door opened at least twice since you went upstairs signalling the arrival of some of the others. Jungkook's caramel scent wafted happily around the house as it started to mix with Namjoon's campfire. No other scent came to you though leaving you confused as to who else might be in the house.

Hoseok is sitting in the big armchair in the lounge when you come back down. Yoongi wasn't due to be home for another half an hour but clearly, that didn't matter.

"I got lonely at my house, so I thought I'd wait for Yoongi here." He shrugged when you sent him a questioning look. "Anyway, how was your day? we are all dying to know."

He shuffles forward to literally be on the edge of his seat and Namjoon and Jungkook stop the conversation they were having to listen.

"It was nothing special. I didn't realise how tiring working was though."

"Surely you've had a job before though." Namjoon scoffs.

You shake your head and are met by three very surprised faces.

"Even I had a paper round when I was a teen." Jungkook baulks.

"I haven't really had the opportunity to pursue a career until now I guess... I studied a lot." You try to shut down the conversation before they go any further, still not ready to divulge a lot about your past.

Luckily Jimin and Yoongi make it through the door together. Each of the homeowners exchanged kisses before the two new arrivals made themselves comfortable.

"Are we supposed to be working on something today?" Yoongi asked Hobi, confused by his presence, although clearly not disappointed you notice.

"Uh-oh busted. I just had a lot of fun hanging out yesterday... I can leave if you want." The human's usually cool and collected facade cracking a little.

"No of course you can stay." Namjoon answers. "Now what are we thinking for dinner?"

______

Again the night goes on, Hobi is invited to stay once more, this time Yoongi offers his and Namjoon's room so Jimin can have his own bed back for the night. Although you suspect there may be alterior motives involved when Yoongi suggests they share the room and Namjoon share with Jungkook. Hoseok doesn't flinch, and happily finds his own way upstairs.

"Yoongi, darling, you seem to be getting a little... protective of your new friend." Namjoon points out carefully.

"So? I'm protective of a lot of my friends, I'm protective over you guys aren't I?" Yoongi gets a little defensive.

"I should hope we are more than friends." Jimin points out.

"Do you want to pursue Hobi?" Namjoon asks seriously.

"I don't know, maybe? I don't know it's been a long time since I've actively pursued anyone. And I'm not sure you even count Joonie." Yoongi contemplates.

"I think even if maybe you haven’t thought about it you should, clearly your hybrid parts are already starting to think of him as ours, or at the very least yours." Namjoon reasons.

"Yeah, you're right. I have definitely been feeling more anxious when he isn't around me." Yoongi stands and says he good nights, following Hoseok upstairs to probably work out exactly how he feels.

"So you guys consider new mates then?" You ask tentatively, although you aren't sure why it should concern you.

"When the right people come along who are we to turn down more love?" Jimin asks in reply, looking off dreamily.

"That makes sense I guess, I've always been told that more partners just results in more jealousy." You say, thinking about the things your ex used to say.

"Why would someone you love experiencing more love ever make you jealous? It always makes me so happy when everyone else is happy." Jimin moves on to the sofa next to Namjoon and Jungkook and cuddles in closely.

"That's... that's really lovely." You answer, and then fake a yawn. "I think I'm going to head to bed, goodnight."

You thought you'd be asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow but find yourself struggling to fall asleep. your eyes keep blinking open as thoughts of a pack of your own swim through your brain. A group of people who love each other so much that jealousy isn't even a thought in their minds.

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Please send asks, reactions, most to least, and general smutty thoughts to my ask box to keep me writing they do not have to be connected to this story. I just like giving myself extra work to do so. Please join in

[lila-rae]

For the 2 people who asked for this ( @jeanjamesb @yesimscots )

I really want us to normalize viewing celebrities as first and foremost humans that share pretty much all the same traits, wants, desires, annoyances as any human.

Celebrities are not fictional characters. Their lives aren’t like your favorite movie couple solely existing when they’re seen by the media. They have lives that probably look similar to your own.

Now Lila where are you going with this?

So glad you asked. Last night I got an ask that essentially said “Z is back in London because she liked a post a 4:30am London time”. Ignoring the fact that if she was back in LA it would be fine. I want to talk about how in only her apparently being awake at 4:30 seems unfathomable. I’m pretty sure everyone on this godforsaken dumpster fire of an app has been on here at 3/4/5 in the morning. Whether that’s from waking up in the middle of the night or just staying up late, we know it’s not an impossibility that people would be awake on social media in the middle of the night. Hell I’m constantly on here at 4/5 am. It doesn’t indicate a time zone jump. But also if she was in LA who cares. That changes nothing about their relationship no matter how much some of you hope it will. But again what makes Z do special that being up at 4:30 is a shocking act?

Now I also want to point out the “he’s golfing where is she” “he’s golfing clearly she left” “he left her alone to go hang out with his friends” asks that popped up. They are in a romantic relationship but it is not the only personal relationship they have. It is healthy to still have friends. It is healthy to have time by yourself. They don’t need to, and shouldn’t, spend 24 hours a day together. I don’t know a single couple, and let’s be real neither do you, that spends every moment of free time together. You know why? Because that would be unhealthy. Him going on a guys trip is healthy and also great for him. It’s amazing to see people especially men nourishing their friendships in adulthood. But also even without a big trip doing things alone isn’t weird or indicative of your relationship health. You know what I love to do? Go to target by myself and just roam the aisles. Does that mean I’d rather be at target than with my family? Nope. It means I enjoy time to myself and drinking coffee while leaning on a cart. If we see one out shopping while they’re in the same city it is not inherently a negative thing. It’s just normal human behavior.

So next time you decide this is weird maybe analyze that thought a little more and see if you’d think it was bad if any other person/couple you know did it.

And I get that the people who actually need to hear this will probably ignore it, but just in case you don’t, I want you to reevaluate how you view relationships and think about wether or not you’re setting up an unhealthy mindset when it comes to relationships. Like forget the TZness of it all. These asks clearly show a lack of knowledge of healthy interpersonal relationships, (familial, platonic, and romantic). And I want better for you.

[thelordofgifs]

hi! while I hate to enable procrastination, I am... kinda doing the same thing and would love to read a dissection of the stabbing scene 👀

also for @that-angry-noldo, @aurorafaann and an anon!! Ty all for indulging me hehe <3 (and sending procrastination solidarity!)

Ok SO. Preface that I figured out the stabbing would occur only after writing part 12 - hence why part 13 foreshadows it very heavily and parts 11-12 more lightly. This is also why I feverishly wrote and published parts 13 and 14 very close together; I was gripped. consumed. I had a VISION. For this reason, the stabbing scene is not actually my best work ever. But! I did put a good amount of thought into it and, a week+ later, I think it holds up.

(This is also a good point to say that I genuinely did not intend to write a really mean cliffhanger and then not update the fic for ages. And I am sorry about that. Frankly, the stabbing felt like an excellent twist and I was worried about how to move the fic on from there without somehow destroying the emotional arc of the last few parts, but I've managed to work it out in the past couple of days which is cause for celebration!)

Anyway, we start out the stabbing scene with Maglor, who has not been having a very fun time lately, just glad to see his big brother again - uncomplicated gladness, for an instant at the end of part 13, but now he slips into his normal mode of feeling Guilty and Inadequate and starts to apologise to Maedhros for losing the Silmaril. But Maedhros is deep in the whole delusional episode situation and reacts oddly to Maglor's apology - which Maglor notices pretty much immediately:

Maglor has made Maedhros his chief study for many years.

He looks at him, now, and understands.

Subtext: Curufin is an Idiot who does not notice thingss but Maglor is a very good brother and we love him <3

Then there is the quiet refrain of Maglor's Rules For Dealing With Maedhros In A State: he is very careful with him, trying not to startle him or contradict him, making sure not to touch him. He is doing everything right! It's just that Maedhros has been spiralling so badly that that isn't enough.

Sidenote, but: I love writing Maedhros and Maglor interactions. I am in the silm fandom to write Maedhros and Maglor interactions. They are my bread and butter. This is the first time the two of them have met since Part 3, the first time they've had a proper conversation since Part 1 (!!), and so in addition to having obvious plot significance I really wanted this scene to depict some of the essential elements of their dynamic as I see it. So: Maglor's guilt, a dollop of mutual caretaking, all that endless complicated love, and! a thing I like to do! Mirrored dialogue!!

OKAY now I get to talk about the dialogue in this scene, which is my favourite part of it.

The boys' last conversation in the silm is one of my favourite pieces of dialogue, like, ever. It has so much tragic weight behind it; and the way their lines build off each other, reflect each other, is just perfection. Maedhros: "Who shall release us?" Maglor: "If none can release us..." To me this sets them up as foils for each other SO perfectly. When I write them I try to incorporate a little of this dynamic - they are both good with words, they like to debate with each other, and they often good-naturedly turn the other's words back on them.

I couldn't do this overtly in the stabbing scene because, frankly, I was in a possessed haze and wasn't thinking that deeply about it. But it did come through a little: "No doubt it amuses you," Maedhros says, and Maglor responds with, "Nothing that hurt you could ever amuse me." (Also, more subtly: "If none of it was real at all--" -> "It was real, Nelyo, I promise.")

More intentionally, Maedhros and Maglor are using very different registers of speech in this scene. Generally in tfs I don't make too much effort to make dialogue sound Tolkien-esque, as I do in my other fic; part of the tfs style is rooted in informality, so that Fingon can make a veiled sex joke to Curufin, and Mablung can casually say "Sure is" in response to a question. Maglor is adhering to this "standard style", so to speak: he uses contractions liberally, splices his commas, and so on. Maedhros, on the other hand, is speaking very formally: no contractions, a slightly more archaic way of constructing sentences: "If he lives" vs the more modern "if he's alive". This is deliberate! They're speaking Quenya in this scene, the language of their childhood, but while Maglor is using casual, familiar tones, Maedhros has reverted to very formal, classical Quenya - the sort that's one step removed from being a language solely of lore. This is what Maedhros spoke in Angband (Sauron is a language enthusiast, after all!) - a conscious effort to demarcate himself the High King of the Noldor, and the son of the world's best linguist. But because he's in such a bad place he is also swinging between registers, dropping in contractions on occasion, stumbling over and repeating his words as he grows more overcome.

I do humbly think Maedhros went OFF with dialogue here actually. "You have overstretched your hand, Sauron. He cannot be both dead and alive. You will have to pick one." and “Well, then, which is it? If he is dead then you are only a wraith wearing his shape. If he lives – and – and none of it was real at all—” and "I do not, I do not want this anymore. It was – it was not so terrible, when I could still pretend – but now – you are only taunting me now, doing this. Let it end." HE'S SO UPSET

Another thing that's impossible to get through in English is the use of formal vs informal second person: unfortunately in modern English, "thou/thee" sounds hopelessly archaic, so I couldn't have Maglor use it without breaking the casual and familiar vibe I was going for with his dialogue. But, in my head, he is thou-ing and thee-ing the whole time, whereas Maedhros is using the crushingly formal "you" instead. A little of this came across, hopefully, through Maglor's repeated use of Maedhros' childhood nickname: he calls him Nelyo in pretty much every sentence he speaks, whereas Maedhros, importantly, does not address Maglor by name even once.

Okay I just spent five paragraphs talking solely about dialogue WHY are you people indulging me like this. Moving on. In terms of actual plot... well, I think how well the scene works depends on how overt you found the foreshadowing in earlier parts. Did anyone predict that Maedhros would attack Maglor? If so, I imagine a lot of the mounting tension in the scene is kind of pointless. If not... the fact that Something Is Wrong is hopefully obvious from the start; the reader knows, unlike Maglor, that Maedhros has been having a terrible time of it. By the time Maglor has failed a couple of times to make any headway in convincing Maedhros, I was intending you to grow steadily more stressed. And

(It's worth noting that, with the exception of the twins, Maglor and Curufin are the two sons of Fëanor who most resemble each other: they have the same colouring, and they're both slighter than their brothers, with the same long skilful fingers.)

(It is not implausible that a shape-shifter, tired of impersonating Curufin, might switch to Maglor's form without too much difficulty.)

This small break from the close, limited Maglor POV that most of the scene is in, to give a quick glimpse of what's going on in Maedhros' head, was intended to Freak The Reader Out. Maedhros has literally just planned to kill the thing impersonating Curufin in Part 13 - if he is now starting to suspect that it's here with him, that killing it is the key to breaking the illusion, shit is getting serious.

Maglor gets out of bed. MAGLOR WHY ARE YOU GETTING OUT OF BED. He is almost afraid of Maedhros. MAGLOR BE MORE AFRAID OF MAEDHROS.

Maedhros says, "It was – it was not so terrible, when I could still pretend – but now – you are only taunting me now, doing this. Let it end." He has spent some time debating whether or not he prefers the illusion to the reality of his captivity - and he wasn't sure - but now that Sauron is mocking him with the image of his dead brother, he has decided enough is enough.

Maglor's bad leg gives out. Before he can fall Maedhros catches him, putting his right arm around Maglor's waist.

This is partially cute. Maedhros still has his big brother instincts, even like this! He isn't going to let Maglor fall!

But alarm bells were intended to be Extremely Ringing here. Maedhros puts his right arm around Maglor. His left hand is still free. His left hand is still free–

And Maglor, who is still just absolutely not realising how much danger he is in, responds to this extremely worrying statement by saying, "Thank you, Nelyo," - was he not LISTENING?? Maglor!!!!

Then, of course, Maedhros stabs Maglor, Maglor's instinctive response is to comfort him (do I need to get back on the "Maglor is an excellent brother" soapbox or can we take that as given), he sings him a lullaby - callbacks to Part 1 and the Carcharoth encounter, Maglor has sacrificed himself for Maedhros more than once in this fic - before just sitting down to die. That was a clear image in my head for a while: Maglor sitting in a pool of blood, singing quietly, Maedhros' head in his lap and the Silmaril in his hand, and then the orc-horns sounding outside for extra cliffhangeriness. In fact this is probably my single favourite image of the fic. I just love them ok.

This is SO LONG and so procrastinatey but also an extremely fun exercise actually!! I am now fired up to go and work on part 15.

[nouies]

in honour of @bottomlouisficfest’s final writing party, i decided to share the snippets of the two fics i wrote for the fest. i’m a bit late but there were some ppl who tagged me in different things; thanks to @allwaswell16, @disgruntledkittenface, @boosbabycakes28, and @wemadethishome for tagging me! i’m tagging you all back in case you want to share something. <3

1. “Cold Spring”, coffee shop au, owner louis/writer pedro pascal

“So you and Pedro,” Sam started when they were cleaning the shop before closing.

“What about it?” Louis thought that the best plan of action was to feign innocence because he had a feeling what Sam was going to say.

Louis’ dating life was…nonexistent, for lack of a better word. For starters, he was extremely busy running the coffee shop, it took pretty much all of his time, and he wasn’t willing to leave his business unattended just for the sake of a relationship. Second of all, he was a young gay man—a very attractive one if he said so himself—living in a small village; everyone and anyone who he could have a relationship with had already been ruled out.

“I’ve never seen you this smitten with someone since, I don’t know, ever,” she stated. And it was probably true considering she had started working at the café about four years ago, and by that time Louis had given up on dating altogether. “And I feel offended that you’ve never served me a glass of water when I show up at work hungover.”

Louis chuckled. “That’s your fault for not measuring your alcohol.” He closed the drawers where they kept the cloth napkins after checking all of them were there. “Look, there’s nothing going on there so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speculate about my relationship with the man, or lack thereof more like.”

“But why? He seems quite fond of you as well, haven’t you noticed?” Sam spun around with open arms, letting out a long sigh. “It’s so romantic if you ask me.”

Louis shook his head at his employee’s antics. “Well, I’m not asking you. And we should hurry up before it gets darker outside, come on!”

2. “could start a cult”, a/b/o breastfeeding au, hl as parents

Harry set the dried corn leaves previously wet to make them flexible on the table and brought out two cake icing scrapers that he usually used for when he baked. “Okay, love, what do you say if you make the pork tamales and I make the chicken ones so we save time and effort?” At Louis’ nod, he continued. “You just need to take a leaf, cover it with enough dough like this, and then add a spoonful of salsa.”

“Is this too much dough?” Louis showed him a corn leaf with the perfect amount of dough—not too much for the tamal to turn dry, not too little to have more filling than dough.

“It’s perfect, baby. More than perfect, actually, just like you.” He kissed Louis, just because he could.

As they poured water into the pot, Harry kissed Louis. As they put the tamales in the pot, Harry kissed Louis. As they started washing the dishes they used for the preparation, Harry kissed Louis. As Harry poured them wine while they waited for the tamales to be ready, Harry kissed Louis.

The alpha couldn’t contain the happiness that meant having the omega by his side. Ever since they had started dating, he knew his life would change for the better, and now he knew for sure. Louis made everything softer, kinder. He couldn’t fathom the idea of not having Louis in his life, be it as a lover or just as a friend, the omega had become an essential part of Harry’s heart, and he just knew that he wanted to hold onto that feeling forever.

Harry tried to imagine how it would feel to ask Louis to officially bond, picturing the perfect date maybe at their favorite restaurant. He knew the omega didn’t need a big gesture to be asked in marriage, so maybe if they could go away during a weekend, the two of them alone, Harry could plan something nice for his boyfriend. He smiled just thinking about it.

“Marry me,” Harry blurted out. So much for waiting for the perfect date.

[callmemana]

Arms Wide Open, Catch Me If I Fall:

Chapter 4: Birdie’s Eye View

Word Count: 5k+

🚨Warnings: inaccurate Naval descriptions, angst and floof.

A/N: dividers by @sligheach-sidhe , cover by me ( @callmemana ). Thank you @bayisdying for proofreading!

A/N: There will be a change, each chapter will be at least 3k word count. Also, this will be my main focus on writing.

After the big blow up with Bo, Bird walked to the Garcia’s with Ozzy following close behind.

Tears stained her cheeks as she made her way to her bedroom and cuddled with her dog.

She would go in tomorrow and talk with Cyclone about redacting the offer to join the team, if it wasn’t too late.

If Robert didn’t want her here, then she’s not gonna stick around to take anymore of his awful behavior.

He’s acting like he did the last week he was in Lemoore right before he broke her heart.

Bird was a forgiving person, but she didn’t know if she could forgive him for this.

She got up and started to pack everything but the essentials back up into the boxes, she’d ask for tape and help loading her truck tomorrow.

Ozzy kept trying to nip at her legs, telling her to stop.

But Bird’s mind was already set, as soon as she could she’d talk to the Air Boss and ask to be stationed back in Lemoore.

She was just finishing up her last box when Baylie and Mickey came home.

“Why are you packed? What happened between you and Bob?”questioned Lucky.

“He was an asshole and pretty much told me he didn’t want me here. I’m going to talk to Cyclone tomorrow about being transferred back to Flordia. I’m not staying somewhere where the only person I really know doesn’t want me to be.”

“Maybe he was just surprised to see you is all,” offered Mickey.

Bird laughed humorlessly, “Trust me Mickey, what he said wasn’t because of that. I mean, seriously! How stupid am I to come here thinking that he’d be happy to see me? He was right, I ruin everything.”

Tears prickled at her eyes as she fixes her glasses.

“Birdie, what do you mean?” insisted Lucky, teeth slightly grinding together.

“Hey, you haven’t ruined anything.” reassured Mickey.

“He said that the whole week before he left, said I ruined his life and everything I touch. I can’t do that to you guys too.”

“Bird, you haven’t ruined anything for us, if anything you’ve made our lives better.”

“How? I’ve done nothing but cause trouble since I got here!” she cried, taking her glasses off to clean them of tears.

Baylie pulls her into a hug and Mickey joins soon afterwards.

“Because you have made our grey outlook on Bob turn to color. We only knew him as the shy man he is, and now, we might be able to see an outgoing, sarcastic, and whatever else he’s hidden from us, man.”

“You just don’t know him well enough yet. He was shy when we first met at bootcamp.”

“Oh, we need to know all of the stories about the young Robert Floyd.” declared Lucky.

Ozzy ran over and decided to also join the group hug, giving everyone sloppy puppy-kisses all over their faces.

“Oz, Ozzy, ok, ok, thank you bubs!” laughed Birdie as she lightly pushed him away, fixing her glasses on her nose.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes, standing up in the process to head to her room.

“I best be gettin’ to bed, I gotta be up early to see Cyclone anyhow. Thank you both for everything.”

The couple gave smiles and bids her goodnight.

The next morning Bird does her morning routine, walks Ozzy, and drives to base earlier than necessary.

She’s trying to navigate her way to the Air Boss’s office when she accidentally bumps into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry! Here lemme help you,” blurted Bird as she immediately gets to the ground and starts to pick up the scattered papers and folders.

The woman was olived skinned and dark brown curly haired.

“It’s not a problem, I can pick them up myself, I wasn’t watching where I was going anyway.” the woman laughed, holding her hand out towards Amanda.

“I’m Alana Metcalf, most people here call me Cinco or Cin. Are you new? I saw that you were looking a little lost.”

She took the woman’s outstretched hand and shook.

“I’m Amanda Hallett, callsign Birdie, but I also go by Bird. I’m not gonna lie, I am incredibly lost.” Bird laughed, cheeks burning a bright pink.

“Well maybe I can help, who are you looking for?”

“The Air Boss, Beau Simpson. I need to talk with him about transferring back to my old base.”

“Oh, did something happen? Not enjoying San Diego?” she asked.

“You could say that. I just don’t think it’s a good fit for me.”

“Ah, I see. An ex is here huh?”

Birdie’s eyes widen and jaw slacked, “How did you know that?”

“I’m kinda friends with Bob and the dagger squad. Actually, my boyfriend is on the team too.”

“Oh…” said Bird before she put on a fake smile, “what’s his name?”

Cinco could see through the smile, but decided to table that for later when she could speak to Bob.

“Jake Seresin, but his callsign is Hangman.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“He is sometimes,” nodded Cin, “It’s because he always hangs his wingmen out to dry.”

“And he’s on a team? He sounds like he’s an ass. No offense!”

Cin laughs, “None taken, I know he can be one. He’s shown it many of times.”

The two women stopped infront of a wooden door with a name plate that read, ‘Simpson.’

“Anyway, here’s Cyclone’s office. I hope that you reconsider going back, I can tell that you will be a big part of our lives already.”

“And how can you tell, you just met me Cin.” Bird questioned jokingly.

“Because that man’s eyes still sparkle when you come up in conversation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bob like this and I can’t wait to see how it ends.”

“So, you know?” she asked, eyes casted down.

“No, but I don’t think I need to know more than that he loves you.”

“He might’ve before, but he doesn’t now. Thanks for being my guide, I appreciate it.”

Bird gave the woman a little wave as she knocked on the thick door, waiting for the ‘Come in.’

Once the command was given, she entered and saluted the Air Boss.

“You are relieved, Leutenant,” he declared, looking up briefly to see who was there.

“Hello Vice Admiral Simpson, I was wondering if it was too late to ask if the contract could be void and I could be stationed back in Lemoore?”

“Not liking the company Hallett? I believe at one point in your first time here, you were very close to Leutenant Floyd.”

“Yes sir, we were, but recently ended our relationship.”

“How sad. Unfortunately, Hallett, it’s already been cleared and recorded. You’re stuck here until farther notice.”

“But Sir-”

“I didn’t ask for excuses, Leutenant. Just be glad it’s only for six months. Now if your done,” He shifted his eyes to the door.

That was not the news Bird thought she would be getting, Cyclone never liked her anyway.

So why does he have to be so determined to keep her here?

Unless he thinks this will be torture for her being near Robert, which it most likely will be.

She exited the room, leaving his door open just to piss him off more.

Bird went down the hallway a little and braced her back on the wall, groaning loud.

“Well who do we have here?” a woman with a British accent asked.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted you ma’am, I’m Leutenant Hallett.”

“No harm done here, I was just having breakfast at my desk with my friend. I’m Rachael Kazansky.”

Bird looked at her phone screen, checking the time. The meeting with Cyclone went on longer than she initially thought.

“I am so sorry but, I have to get to the hanger. It was nice meeting you though!”

Dragon smiled as the blonde woman scurried off.

She arrived late, the high ranks already in the room and stood off to the side.

“Nice of you to finally join us Leutenant Hallett,” announced Cyclone.

“I’m so sorry, Cyclone! Someone told me to go to Hell, I couldn’t find it at first, but guess what? I finally found it! And I just knew I’d see you here too!”

“Everyone, this is Leutentant Amanda ‘Birdie’ Hallett, graduated second at Top Gun in her class.” stated Maverick, a wide smirk on his features.

Robert muttered a displeased, “Birdie.”

Laughter poorly covered up could be heard around the hanger, mostly by the students. When Bird looked over at Warlock, he winked at her with an amused smirk on his face too.

“Back on the agenda, Maverick.”

“We will be doing an exercise to start training for an upcoming mission. The hard deck is at ten thousand feet and will not be broken this time. We’ll take Hangman, Rooster, Coyote, and Birdie first. Get suited up.”

With that, we all filed out of the door and headed to the locker room.

“You must have a big pair of balls on you if you can sass Cyclone without hesitation.” said a tall, blond haired man with sea green eyes.

“Cyclone’s had it out for me since my first time at Top Gun. Bob and I got yelled at all the time by him.” Birdie said as she rolled her eyes.

“Wrong, you and Thena got yelled at and Smiley and me tried to get you out of it.” smiled Bob.

“Yeah right, like I don’t remember the reason you got your callsign. You are just as much of a troublemaker Bo.”

She didn’t see the smirks and looks exchanged by the others.

“Since y’all know my name, I think it’s only fair I know your’s.” stated Bird.

A dark skinned man with a mustache spoke first, “I’m Reuben Fitch, Payback and Fanboy’s pilot.”

The next was another dark skinned man, a little lighter in shade, “Javy Machado, Coyote.”

“I’m pretty well known everywhere I go. Jake Seresin, callsign; Hangman.”

“Wow, maybe you should take the dick outta your personality. Your ego isn’t as big as you think.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you think-”

“Finish that sentence, and I’ll sack you so hard that your grandkids will feel your pain.”

“Damn, she doesn't play.” said a man with a 70’s porn-stache.

“Damn straight, and you are?”

“Bradley Bradshaw, Rooster.” he held out his hand, which she gladly took.

“It’s nice to meet you Rooster.”

They all came to the doors that separated the locker rooms.

The women went into the one on the left, the guys on the right.

Bird was halfway out of her civilian clothes when a small, shy woman came up to her.

“Hi, I’m Raven Mouse Fischer. I haven’t been on the team very long, but if you need any help with anything, I’d be more than glad to help!” chirped Mouse with a wide smile.

“Thank you Mouse, I might have to take you up on that offer,”

“I’m Bob’s pilot, Natasha Phoenix Trace. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Natasha. Thank you for keeping him safe when I couldn’t, I appreciate it more than you know.”

Phoenix was a little surprised when Bird brought her into a tight hug.

After the little meet and greet in the locker room, everyone was outside in the hanger getting ready to get in the jets.

Bird had her sky blue helmet on with the bird silhouette on the front with her callsign under and her squadron on the sides.

She wanted to have someone pat the top to ‘see if it works’ but didn’t want to ask anyone yet.

Bird saw Bo and looked away, there was no way she’d ask the man who had made a new crack in her heart not too long ago to do the preflight ritual with her.

“What’s wrong Bird?” asked Rooster as he stood by her plane.

“Nothin’, just missing old traditions we used to do before flying.”

“What did you do before?” he smiled, looking down at her.

“Used to smack the top of our helmets so we could ‘see if it was good’ and now I don’t have anyone to do that with.”

Without second thought, Rooster slapped his hand against the top of her helmet and whispered, “Good luck Bird. You don’t have to be scared to ask us to continue the traditions you did back in Lemoore, if they make you feel comfortable or a superstition you have we will help make you calm.”

Bird’s cheeks burned slightly, “Thank you Roos, I appreciate that.”

Bradley lightly pounds his fist on the top of her helmet again, “Anytime Bird. We’re all family now.”

She nods, looking away from him briefly before the other two men join them.

“Ready to fly Bird and Chicken?” asked Hangman, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, Bagman, let’s get in the sky.”

It took a while but soon all were in the air with the oxygen masks on and communication was silent.

Bird was flanked by the men, all looking around for Maverick and seeing nothing.

“So what’s your story Birdie?”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t wanna, Bird.”

“It’s fine. Grew up in the midwest, went to bootcamp and then after I graduated I went to Top Gun.”

“What about when you met Baby On Board?”

Rooster’s voice cracked through the radios, “Leave her alone, Bagman.

“Woah man, we’re just trying to get to know our fellow aviator Rooster.”

Bird rolled her eyes at the men, typical.

“I’ll leave that to Robert when the time comes and HE wants to tell you.”

“Ooooh, she’s super mad if she’s using your name and not your callsign huh Baby On Board?”

“Why do you always have to be a dickhead, Bagman?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘always,’ I did save your life Chicken.”

“He did,” echoed Coyote.

Rooster was quiet after that and started to go a little farther ahead of them.

They flew for a little longer in silence before Coyote voiced everyone’s concern, “Where’s Mav?”

All four of us looked around, not seeing anything. “Oh fuck, he’s under our noses.”

After that was said, Maverick came up from out of nowhere. “Good Afternoon Aviators.”

Bird was the first to move out of the way, Rooster following her and Hangman and Coyote breaking off to the left.

The fight was on.

It took twenty six minutes for Maverick to shoot all of us down.

If we were supposed to be the best of the best, how come it took so little time for him to beat us in a dog fight?

Bird got out of her jet, took off her helmet and then gripped it in her fist angrily. She knew she could be better than she performed today, otherwise she wouldn’t be back at Top Gun.

“Don’t let this bring you down, we all got our asses handed to us and I bet you everyone will today too.” Rooster shook her shoulders lightly and a smile on his face.

Hangman and Coyote came over to her plane again and praised her flying as they all made their way to the rec room where everyone else is.

Once inside the room and out of the blazing sun, she saw that Bob was still sitting right infront of the radio with eyebrows furrowed and bitting him lip.

What was he so worried about, he had no right to be for me. He lost it the day he broke my heart.

It was later in the day when everyone had failed and walking back to the locker rooms that everyone was talking and laughing together again.

“So Bird, would you like to go to the Hard Deck later?” asked Mickey, a smile on his face.

“No thank you, Mickey. I should unpack, I’m going to be here for a while.”

“Oh that’s great to hear, how long?” chirped Mouse.

“I’m here for six months, then wherever they send me afterwards.”

Lucky glares at Bob, angry at that he almost made her go away.

“We can help if you need?”

Bird smiled, “Thanks for the offer, but it won’t take too long.”

“Well if you end up needing help, don’t be afraid to call any of us.”

“She wouldn’t need you Bagman, Birdie has Mickey and me to help. Also stay away from my house or I’ll kick your ass.”

Jake put his arms up in mock surrender, eyes wide and a smirk on his lips.

The three of them went back inside the Hard Deck and grabbed the others and went out back to talk on the deck.

Once all of the aviators had sat down, Bob took a deep breath.

“I think I might owe y’all an explanation on why I’ve been acting so short tempered lately.”

“I’d say.”

“Shut up, let him speak!”

“Yeah, I wanna hear why.”

“Well, before we left for the mission, I was engaged,” he took his dogtags out of his shirt and showed the ring.

A dainty little gold ring that looked as if it was sticks with small diamonds decorating it was on the chain.

“To an aviator named Birdie. I broke off the engagement and then moved to San Diego a week later.”

Bob ran his hands in his already messed up hair, “So when Lucky was giving hints as to who the new member was, she was just reminding me of her. I didn’t want to think about Bird, so instead I got angry and shut everyone out. I’m sorry.”

“Why? Why break up with her, she’s a pilot too. She’d understand.”

Bob laughed sadly, “Because I’m in idiot. I don’t really want to get into it tonight.”

“Hate to break it to you Baby On Board, but I already kinda knew. Seriously, I mean, did you forget that I have access to personal and personnel records?” sassed Cinco.

“I’m so glad that you found your forever Bob and I can’t wait to meet her! What’s she like? Chirped Mouse.

Baylie took point in answering this, “She’s amazing, beautiful, fantastic, lovely, smart, funny, sweet…”

“Okay, we get it Bay, if we weren’t married you’d marry bird and make her one of your sister wives.”

“Damn right I would, too bad I’m stuck with your ugly ass.”

“Ouch.”

“Can we please get back to the matter at hand?”

Bay shrugged while Mickey put his hands up in mock surrender.

“As you were saying Bob?”

“I messed up and broke up with her the harshed way possible so she wouldn’t think about me when I was on the mission. And with her back in my life I can’t help but have those feelings again.”

“So you never got over her?” questioned Phoenix, eyebrows furrowed.

Bob shook his head, “No. She’s my everything. I’ve known her since I was eighteen, we met on the first day of bootcamp. I knew by the end of our first date that I was gonna marry her.”

Dragon and Whiskey just screamed in happiness at the confession, they had never really heard Bob speak so passionately about love before and wanted nothing more than to hear everything he had to say.

Mouse was the first to speak, “That’s really sweet and I’m happy you found someone who makes you feel like that, but…” she took a deep breath, trying to find the right words that wouldn’t offend him, “If that’s true, why did you end things with her?”

Lucky stood behind Mouse, arms crossed and head nodding to the words that the shy woman had said and added. “You really are a dumb motherfucker aren’t you Robert?”

Tom and Ron exchanged glances before nodding in agreement with their pseudo daughters, only to get smacked by their wives in the back of the head.

The other guys had awkwardly chugged their drinks and avoided eye contact with Bob, not wanting to be caught and having to defend the man.

Rooster, that sap, was the one to speak first, “Do you still want to marry her? Just hearing what you have to say about Bird tells me that you aren’t over her yet.”

Bob answered immediately, “Of course I still want to be with her and marry Bird. I have no doubt in my mind that’s always been her in my heart and always will be.”

“Then we’ll do everything we can do to help you get her back. I don’t speak for everyone, just for me, but I want to see you happy and I get the feeling that the only person who can make you happy, is Birdie.”

Bob smiles, a sight the Dagger Squad hadn’t seen for a while, “She does, she really, really does make me happy.”

Hangman slaps a hand over Bob’s shoulders, “I’ll help you Baby On Board.”

One by one they come up and touch Bob’s shoulders or the top of his head, all agreeing with Jake.

He gave a half smile now that he knew his friends were going to help, he felt his chances of getting his Bird back rise.

Not too long after that the crowd became too much for his wandering mind, so he went home.

The next day on base was awkward to say the least. He knew she was in San Diego, but what he didn’t know was when she would show up at Top Gun.

Maverick had already started the lesson with all of the high ups behind him and to the side.

There was a door being abruptly opened and everyone looked back as Vice Admiral Simpson spoke, “Nice of you to finally join us Lieutenant Hallett.”

She walked her way down the middle of the desks in the many rows that the other aviators sat at before she opened her mouth to no doubt sass the man.

“Birdie.” he whispered breathlessly, head casted down.

She sat down and the lesson went on while the others giggled or laughed behind hands or coughs.

Maverick picked four of us to go into the air for the first flight test and after a weird interaction in the hall to the locker rooms, everyone else crossed the tarmac and made their way in the break room.

Bob kept his sights on Bird the whole way, she glanced at him as she walked to her jet. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head. The happy memories that the two shared while back in Lemoore.

He missed the preflight ritual that they did, along with smiley and Athena. Bob gave a half-assed smile, but that didn’t last too long when he saw Bradley pat her on the head while she wore her helmet.

He can still remember the day that she got her helmet and designed it. Bird was so proud of herself, she hadn’t painted in years and was worried that it wouldn’t come out how she wanted.

Another great memory that he had made with her. Bob wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation from the radio, more on watching the sky and his Birdie fly like she belonged there.

When the exercise was over and the four pilots entered the recreation room, Bob’s focus came back into the world.

He was worried for her, he knew how taxing mentally it was to be called the best of the best, only to be shot down so quickly.

He knew that he had no right to be anxious about her. First this wasn’t a real mission, just a practice.

Secondly, she wasn’t his fiancee anymore, he held no claim to her. Especially after the way he acted the last week in Flordia.

Mickey patted his back as both got up and headed to the tarmac, pilots following their WSO’s, today was just going to be hard for him it seems.

After everyone had gone twice and shot down, both times, the day was over and everyone went to the locker room to change into civvies.

“So Bird, would you like to go to the Hard Deck later?” asked Mickey with a smile on his face as the group walked down the halls and to the parking lot.

“No thank you Mickey. I should unpack, I’m going to be here for a while.”

“Oh, that’s great to hear, how long?” chirped Mouse.

Bob was happy that she’d be staying, he really wanted to take the time and win her heart and trust back.

He felt Lucky’s anger through the glare she was giving him as they walked. Bob knew he deserved it ten times over.

Robert knew that once they heard the whole story, they’d hate him, Hell he hates himself still.

“We can help if you need?”

Bird smiled, “Thanks for the offer, but it won’t take too long.”

“Well if you end up needing help, don’t be afraid to call any of us.”

“She wouldn’t need you Bagman, Birdie has Mickey and me to help. Also stay away from my house or I’ll kick your ass.”

Jake put his arms up in mock surrender, eyes wide and a smirk on his lips. Bob rolled his eyes, he hates when Hangman’s ego acts up.

They all go their separate ways and plan to meet up a little later at The Hard Deck for drinks.

When Bob got home he immediately collected clean clothes from his bedroom and then got into the shower to wash away the day.

He didn’t feel like wearing his Khakis today at the bar so he opted out for an old Carhartt shirt, jeans, and that trucker hat he loves so much but never really wears anymore.

Bob grabbed his keys to the old Chevy truck and drove to the local Navy bar. After he parked, he didn’t really want to go inside, he knew by the cars that everyone is here again.

With a large sigh, he turned off the truck and went through the doorway of the building.

Immediately Bob spotted his found family and threw himself on the cushioned booth seat, surrounded by the group and handed a cup of water that had already been on the table.

Silence wasn’t something that the Dagger Squad did often, but when it was, it's because they were thinking.

It brought warmth to his heart that they actually wanted to help him, but also worried him for when they realized just what type of man he was.

Even if he only did what he did to not break her heart more if he didn’t make it from the Uranium mission alive.

He knew it was only a matter of time before they either kicked his ass or never talked to him again.

Which he deserves, no doubt in his mind about that.

Lucky being the biggest threat if the story got out, she already saw Birdie as a little sister and is protective of her.

He’s seen Baylie’s rage and never wants to be on the receiving end of it, but that might just be what happens.

Dragon was the first to speak after the silence had stopped, “So, what are you thinking about doing to get her back?”

Bob shakes his head chuckling nervously, “Honestly Dragon, I don’t have a Goddamn clue, Amanda won’t even look at me for longer than a second and barely talked to me today.”

“Oh yeah ‘Bo,’ she barely talked to you.”

His head snaps to Lucky, anger in his eyes. “You can’t call me that.”

Bob knows that Baylie won’t back down and he wouldn’t be surprised if she probably already knows the story or at least a little bit of it.

“How bout Bam? Can I call you Bam?” she questions sarcastically, Bird obviously told Mickey and her something about his childhood.

“No and you never call me anything but Robert or Bobby so stop using Birdie to get under my skin.”

“Why when it clearly works so well.” she smirked, the others around him smirking too.

They were all very entertained by this and he didn’t like that just bringing up something about his past could get him so angry.

“Children.” demanded Cinco, done with the fighting.

“Anyway,” said Dragon, getting them back on topic, “we need to start small, so she doesn’t get suspicious of what we’re doing.”

They all nodded, agreeing with her. Now they just have to brain storm ideas until they find the best one for Bob to start gaining Bird’s trust and friendship again.

Some ideas that were thrown out didn’t sound like something that Bob would do, more of a Jake thing.

Big gestures and an exclamation of how sorry he is, Bob is more of the quiet type, small gestures and slowly gaining the relationship back the right way.

It took many hours and many rounds of beer and water (for himself) before the group decided on a plan and paid their tabs before going home.

Bob stopped Mickey as they exited the bar, his friend slowly turned around, a smile on his face.

“How is she doing? Is she settingly in nicely?”

The other wizzo lightly slaps his back,“She’s doing good Bob and I’m not gonna lie to you, because you're my friend, she seems sad. She’s putting on a happy act for us, but we can see it in her eyes. Bird keeps busy around the house when we get home from base. If she can’t find anything to clean, she’s either in her room or walking Ozzy.”

Bob smiles, “Birdie has two brothers so she was the only sibling to actually clean when asked and her room was her get away from her brothers who pestered her a lot. I’m worried about her, Mickey. I hate to see her like this, this girl has been nothing but smiles and rainbows and I don’t think I’ve seen her this way except the last night I was in Lemoore.”

“Hey man, like I said yesterday, we’re gonna help you get her back. This is the first time I’ve seen you smile since the wedding and if she can do that by just being in the same room as you or even just being mentioned, I think what you have is worth the it.”

Bob gave Mickey a little side hug before they went to their cars. Lucky was in the front seat of the Garcia’s Jeep, blasting music and headbanging to the lyrics, making the men laugh.

He took off towards his house, listening to her favorite song and smiling like a total idiot.

Birdie’s Basket🧺: @dragon-kazansky @mrsjaderogers @bayisdying @starlit-epiphany @gracespicybradshaw

🏷️ list: @luckyladycreator2 @interstellarloneliness

[dragonmuse]

@believesinponds Not to be greedy but OMG MORE I WANT MORE!!!!!!!! What happens with Charlie and Izzy while Lucius is gone for that month?????

(this got...so very very very smutty. Like probably not by most writers standards, but by Vera standards this is FILTHY. Some warnings: there is brief touching while someone is asleep, there is under-negotiated kink (but everyone has fun) and there is voyeurism which is negotiated.)

The office was weird without Jim and Lucius there. Charlie felt like he was creeping around a tomb. They had taken half the staff with them and the rest were out on smaller jobs. Charlie was dispatch and office support for those and that kept him mostly distracted from the silent main office, it's usually open door locked up tight.

He did not want to examine how bereft he felt with both of them gone. It hadn’t even been a full day, it was ridiculous to pout. They were showing a lot of trust, essentially leaving him in charge.

Several times, he got up to ask Lucius a question or to bother Jim only to remember that he was alone. He slunk back to his office feeling increasingly ridiculous each time. It was just a few weeks. He’d be used to it by the end, maybe even annoyed to lose the peace and quiet. Certainly, he was piling through work at an astounding rate. 

Around three, he started idly going through his phone every half hour or so. He had Izzy’s number, but it seemed desperate and silly to reach out to him. Charlie was going to prove that he could do this. He would visit in a few days, when Izzy might actually miss Lucius enough to want company. 

Just when he was winding down for the day and starting to think about distracting plans for the night,  he heard the beep of the keycard reader and the front door swinging open. 

“Charlie?” It was Read. She’d clocked out with him a half hour ago.

“Everything okay?” He got up and put his head around the door. She smiled at him. He smiled back. It was hard not to. Few people could withstand the force of Read’s easy joy. 

“Izzy said I should collect you for dinner. Anne is working late, but she might show up too if she can get away.”

“Sure, let me just send an email.”

He stepped back into his office, out of view and then punched the air in triumph. He hadn’t even had to invite himself. Taking a few seconds, he did actually send an email and shut down his computer for the night. 

“Let’s go.”

Read had Izzy’s old bike, which made for a fun ride. She drove right into the spacious garage under the building. She swiped her keycard and hit the PH button.

“Probably get your own,” she slid hers into her pocket.

“Me? Why?” His heart quickened. 

“Izzy said you’d be around a lot,” she shrugged, entirely without innuendo. “It’s no big thing. There’s a monitor in the apartment, they know who’s coming and they can freeze the elevator if it’s someone not allowed.  But if you have your own card, you don’t have to call before you come over. Just know if you hit the button and nothing happens, it’s because one of them turned off access.” 

“Huh,” he set that aside. He wasn’t trying to crack their security. Only habit made him want to try. “That’s cool. How often are you there?” 

“Couple of nights a week usually. Some mornings too. Izzy and I work out together a lot.” 

“That’s cool. Hey, why’d you get left behind this time around?” 

Read snorted, “Luc doesn’t need me to bodyguard if Jim is going to be right next to him.”

“Right,” he’d forgotten that was technically Read's job, she did so many things. “You’re good with chauffeuring?” 

“Oh yeah,” the elevator doors opened and she stepped into the living room, kicking off her shoes. Charlie followed suit. “I like driving and the guy is easy enough. Horrible voice though. I keep putting up the privacy screen so I don’t have to listen to him and he thinks I’m super courteous. I bet I get tipped.” 

“Tipped in what?” Izzy asked, coming down the stairs. 

“Money, I hope. If it’s blow again, then I’m going to riot,” Read groaned. 

“I think that was a one off,” Charlie assured her. “And Jim fired him as a client anyway. Hi, Izzy.” 

Izzy didn’t look him in the eye, but he said warmly, “Hello, Charlie.” 

“Told you I’d bring him,” Read ran a hand through her hair. “What are we eating?” 

“Cassoulet,” Izzy told her. “Set the table.” 

“Okay,” she headed into the kitchen. “What’s a cassoulet?” 

“Like a classic one?” Charlie asked, taking a step closer. 

“Yeah. Duck, sausage, beans and a pork ragu,” Izzy confirmed.  

“Hard to make?” Another step and Izzy finally looked up at him, a smile tugging on just one side of his lips. 

“Just takes time. Follow the recipe and anything is easy enough.” 

“Yeah?” Charlie took another step forward, getting into his personal space. “What if I like going off recipe?” 

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t make dinner,” Izzy’s breath caught ever so slightly. “Are you staying the night?” 

“If you’ll have me,” Charlie didn’t move any closer. Not with Read just in the next room and no idea how Izzy wanted to play this. His skin buzzed with the near contact, electrified. “I’ll be here every night if you want me.” 

“Better pack a bag then.” 

“Do we need spoons?” Read called out. 

“Just forks!” Izzy told her. 

“I will,” Charlie licked his lips. “Tonight, I guess I’ll just have to sleep in the buff.” 

Izzy turned towards the kitchen, but he reached out as he went, a single finger sliding across Charlie’s bare wrist and that had no reason to be nearly as hot as it was. 

Dinner could’ve been torture, but Read, oblivious to tension, struck up a conversation about Izzy’s latest woodworking project. Despite himself, Charlie was interested in it too. Not the details, but he liked how Izzy talked about it, describing the little mechanical details of putting together a chest of drawers. 

“Wait, did you make the-” Charlie stopped himself before said ‘headboard’. The bed in Lucius and Izzy’s bedroom had an ornate wooden headboard that looked like a rack of blades criss-crossing each other.  “The shoe rack by the elevator.” 

“One of my first projects,” Izzy confirmed, not acknowledging the lapse. 

“Where is this happening?” 

“I’ll show you after dinner.” 

“Which is amazing, by the way.” 

“Yeah,” Read skewered a piece of duck. “I vote for this one to go into rotation.” 

“Add it to the doc then,” Izzy ate a bit himself, relishing it. 

“There’s a doc?” 

“I’ll send you the link. Izzy keeps a whole list of everyone’s favorites.  Some of them go into regular rotation for a while. There’s a date list so nothing repeats too often.” 

“Oh, that’s okay I don’t want to-” 

“More people putting things on there the better. Keeps things interesting,” Izzy cut him off. “Gets boring making the same five or six things.” 

“Please, you won’t even make lasagna twice in a month and you know it’s Luc’s favorite,” Read scoffed.  "That's why the doc has to be long."

They both helped with the dishes, then Izzy led Charlie through the showy living room to the other side of the stairs. There were a few doors, but Izzy only opened the one at the far end. It was full of shop equipment and smelled pleasantly of wood shavings. 

“Wow, that is a lot of power tools,” Charlie turned a slow circle taking it in. “How’d you get into this?” 

“Like working with my hands,” Izzy picked up something that must’ve fallen to the floor, which meant Charlie got to admire the pull of his jeans over his ass.  It stoked the fire in his belly as he waited for his time to strike.

They wound up in the upstairs living room, each of them on a different couch as they shot the shit. Occasionally, Charlie would catch Izzy looking at him and he’d spread his legs a little or make a point of skimming his hand over his thigh. Drawing the eye.  

Eventually, Read’s phone dinged and she drew it out eagerly. 

“Anne’s coming home,” she beamed. “She’s kind of tired.” 

“Made her a plate, it’s in the fridge. Take it down to her.” 

“You’re the best,” Read bounced off the couch. “See you tomorrow, Charlie.” 

“See you.” 

They both went silent, listening as she descended the stairs, crossed the downstairs living room and hit the elevator button. The chime of it’s arrival drew Charlie up. The final ‘snick’ closure of the door put him on his feet. Izzy watched him as he crossed the floor then sank to his knees in front of him. 

“Charlie...” 

“I tested clean two weeks ago, haven’t touched anyone else since.” He set his chin on Izzy’s knee. “I’ve been thinking about sucking your dick for four weeks before that. Please. Let me.” 

Izzy exhaled harshly, the sound cracking through the air. He spread his legs, 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I told you, I want to. Very badly.” 

He got his hands on Izzy’s jeans, unbuttoning them and bringing down the zipper. All the finesse he learned over the last few years went out the window. He’d only had one hour with Izzy before. A taste with limited choices.  It had stoked a hunger in him that couldn’t be easily he sated. 

Pulling down Izzy’s pants and underwear just far enough to reveal his cock was a good start. He was soft though starting to stir now.  Charlie set his hands on Izzy’s thick hard thighs and tugged him forward. Izzy went with a huff, one hand sliding through Charlie’s hair. 

Charlie bent down and took Izzy into his mouth all the way to the root. He let the weight of his cock settle against his tongue. He didn’t taste any different than any other reasonably clean guy, a hint of sweat and skin, but Charlie would know him now. He sucked slowly, the lengthening, hardening flesh better than any meal. 

Izzy groaned, cupping the back of Charlie’s head gently. He pulled off just enough to say, 

“I want you to fuck my mouth. But don’t come yet, okay? Unless you can go twice in a night?” 

“Not in a long time,” Izzy huffed. “But I can last as long as you need me too.” 

“Don’t say that,” Charlie grinned, then gave the head of his cock a playful lick, searching for the sensitive spot that made most guys twitch. Izzy was no exception and he grunted a little too, the sound gloriously loud in Charlie’s ears. “Might use you all night.” 

“I don’t have to do jack shit in the morning. Whatever you want, Charlie. It’s yours.” 

There was no response to that, but to get back to work. Charlie swallowed down around him and after a few long slow bobs up and down, Izzy’s grip did tighten a little on the back of his head and his hips thrust up tentatively. Moaning around him, Charlie spurred him on. 

It never got frantic or harsh, but Izzy hadn’t been lying about lasting. He used Charlie’s mouth for long languid minutes, the pace sometimes glacial, then speeding up out of nowhere so that Charlie almost choked. Just before Charlie could tap out though, Izzy would slow, pull out almost entirely and give him a second to catch his breath.  

It was torture. It was hypnotic. When Izzy pulled out entirely, Charlie protested the loss with a whine. 

“You asked me not to come,” Izzy reminded him, amused. 

“Yeah, I...” Charlie shouldn’t be dazed. He’d had plenty of guys, some of them objectively hotter than Izzy. And yet.   

“Come up here and kiss me while you figure out what you want,” Izzy suggested and Charlie was off the ground like a shot. 

He straddled Izzy’s lap, and gave himself over to a messy deep kiss. It was only when Izzy put a hand down on his thigh and winced that Charlie realized he was still fully dressed and Izzy’s cock was still out. 

“Fuck, sorry,” he laughed helplessly. “I’m usually way better than this.” 

“I fucking hope not or I might not survive,” Izzy snorted. “Listen, you want to keep it between us tonight?” 

“Uh..yeah?” Charlie had been reaching for the hem of his shirt, but stopped midway. “What’s the other option?"

“Get up and I’ll show you.” 

He got up reluctantly, and completed taking off shirt, mostly just to show off. Izzy watched him hungrily and reached out to draw hand down his chest. Charlie watched him, each catch of a callous on his skin a fresh delight. 

“I know you sit at a desk most of the day. How are you keeping this up?” 

“I wake up early,” Charlie purred. “What were you going to show me?” 

Izzy did his jeans back up and led Charlie back to the his bedroom. The room was just as impressive as it had been the first time. It was large, but not cavernous. To the right there were doors to closets and a bathroom that he’d only seen long enough to splash water on his face before. To the left were more windows, an entire open skyline. There was a cluster of chairs pulled close to them, an empty mug still sitting on the side table. Izzy must take his coffee there when the rooftop was inhospitable. 

The bed was the focal point, demanding attention even against the backdrop of the entire city. It was massive with its elaborate headboard towering almost to the ceiling. It was dressed in a thick comforter in a gray on blue pattern of Xs to match the headboard and pillows that could be mattresses into themselves. 

Izzy walked around it and to his bedside table. He must’ve made those too, Charlie realized, the elegant flow of them a match to the other pieces. With a quick rustle, Izzy pulled something free and turned to Charlie to show him. 

A remote. 

“Uh, for a vibrator?” he guessed. 

“Got that too somewhere. But no.” He pressed a button and there was a ‘click’ in the ceiling. 

A panel came down and a camera poked out like a tongue sticking out from the mouth. 

“What the fuck?” Charlie ignored Izzy’s protesting noise to stand on the bed and examine it. “This is a really good model. Like not for security tapes.” 

“No shit,” Izzy smacked him on the ass. “Get down here.” 

Charlie dropped back with a laugh, spread eagle over the bedspread, “Explain.” 

“Sometimes when Lucius is away,” Izzy glanced up at the camera, “he likes to see how I’m taking care of myself.” 

“Oh...oh shit, really?” Charlie’s laughter died away. “You make him sex tapes?” 

“They can be. But his phone gets a notification when I turn it on, so he can watch live if he’s somewhere that he can. Otherwise, it records and he watches later.” 

“That is...really fucking hot,” he stared up at the glassy eye. He remembered the sensation of Lucius’ eyes on him as he’d rutted against Izzy that night. How he’d come for the first time as soon as he’d heard Lucius draw his zipper down. 

“Up to you,” Izzy waggled the remote at him. 

“Would he be mad if we didn’t?” 

“No,” Izzy said with total confidence. “We discussed it before he left. It’s up to you. But if we never do it while he’s away, be prepared for him to ask you a lot of questions about what we got up to. Hell, he’ll probably do that anyway.” 

“Yeah, he does like a thorough interrogation,” Charlie licked his lips and decided, “Tomorrow. I want to turn it on tomorrow night. Tonight is just for us.” 

Izzy touched the button again and the camera folded away. Then he tossed it on the end table and reached for his own shirt, drawing it up and over his head. 

“Whatever you want.” 

“Nudity right this second.” 

Izzy had a fucking fantastic body and Charlie, cooled down by their interlude, took his time mapping it thoroughly. For his part, Izzy seemed content to lay back and let Charlie explore with fingers and tongue. There were interesting tattoos and scars, stories for another day.  

Eventually he made his way to Izzy’s ear, nipping at his earlobe. 

“I want you to finger me until I cry.” 

“Do you cry over getting fingered?” Izzy ran his hand up Charlie’s thigh. 

“I haven’t yet, but I bet you’re the man to make it happen.” 

Izzy flipped them with a single shove of his hips and an arm movement that Charlie didn’t catch. He grinned up at him, wrapped a leg around Izzy’s waist. 

“You’re dangerous,” Izzy determined then reached over to the night stand and dug out a bottle of lube. It was Charlie’s favorite brand. 

“You always use that?” He wouldn’t put it past Lucius to do that kind of research. 

“Mm, Luc’s favorite.” 

It was stupid to have a warm feeling over that, but Charlie was already feeling like his brain had dribbled out of his ears, so he let it happen. 

Izzy grabbed one of the ridiculously huge pillows and shoved it under Charlie’s hips, then he dragged Charlie closer, draping his legs over his shoulders. It was exposed. Vulnerable. Charlie was already so hard that his cock was tapping against his belly in an urgent rhythm. 

With one thumb, Izzy drew lazy circles over the sensitive ring of muscle and Charlie spread himself a little wider. The pad of his thumb pushed in slowly and Charlie groaned like he was being murdered. 

“Noticed you were noisy last time,” Izzy pressed a kiss to the inside of Charlie’s thigh. His beard rasped against sensitive skin. 

“You haven’t heard anything yet. I was trying to be polite.” 

“Fucking hell, why?” 

“Mmm, decorum or some shit. I don’t fucking care now, wring it out of me.” 

It turned out that Charlie’s instincts were right. Izzy’s fingers weren’t particularly long, but he used them well. With two, Charlie was a groaning mess and when he came back with three, he was ratcheting his way up to one continuous breathy moan. 

Izzy laid a hand over Charlie’s cock, pinning it down and drawing up his balls so he could get an even better angle. 

“Another?” Izzy asked. 

“Fuck...yes....please.” 

The third finger undid him, Izzy’s casual stroking of his cock, thumbing over his balls and languidly nailing his prostate over and over was earthshaking. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he rolled his head against the mattress. 

“Fuck me!” He demanded and he didn’t have to ask twice. 

Izzy bent over him, withdrawing his hand and wiping it off on his discarded t-shirt. He reached for the lube again. 

“How much can you take?” Izzy wondered as he stroked a wet hand over his dick.  “Before you get sore.” 

“I fucking love being sore,” Charlie watched him, already planning to do this for him next time. Or maybe next time Izzy would let him top. That’d be hot as fuck.  “Just give it all to me.” 

Like with the blowjob, Izzy didn’t just take what he wanted. He strung it out and Charlie, despite thinking he was on the ragged edge, got strung out too. Izzy gave it to him slowly,  rubbing at just the head of Charlie’s cock as he pushed in. Then he moved with purpose, pulling out almost to the tip before pushing all the way back in. Charlie’s hands fisted into the comforter and he rocked back against each thrust.

Sometime the pace would pick up and Charlie would thrust into Izzy’s hand, certain he was about to come and then just on the edge, Izzy would back off again, return to those slow through strokes. 

“Ooooh fuck,” he moaned after the third time. “Izzy...Izzy please....” 

“Please what, baby?” He murmured, gentle as anything. “What do you want?” 

“I wanna come,” he sobbed. “Want to take you with me.” 

“So soon?” came a teasing tone. 

“Please...please I’ll last longer next time if you want. I’ll be good.” 

“You’re already good, Charlie,” Izzy kissed his knee, his thigh. “And now you’re going to come for me.” 

Izzy started up a steady pace at last, jerking Charlie's cock in time to his thrusts and Charlie full on wailed. He came hard and he was distantly aware of Izzy’s own deep groan.   

Dazed, Charlie went limp and stared blankly up at the ceiling as Izzy retreated enough let his legs flop back down. When Izzy got off the bed, he made a sound of protest, then winced at his own neediness. 

“I’ll be right back,” Izzy assured him. 

He did return with something warm and wet that he used to clean Charlie up and then turned on himself, before tossing it into the hamper and lay down beside him. Charlie rolled onto his side so he could bury his face against Izzy’s shoulder. 

“I think I died,” he informed him. 

“Pretty lively for a dead guy,” Izzy laughed, and glanced a kiss off Charlie’s hair.  

“How are you that good at sex? I mean obviously you could’ve had whoever you wanted, lots of experience and all, but I’ve had guys close to your age who were not that good.” 

“Haven’t actually been with that many guys,” Izzy ran a hand down Charlie’s back. “You’re the first since Lucius and I started up.” 

“What?” Charlie pulled his face away to stare at him. “No. Really?” 

“Really. And yes, I’m very aware that Lucius likes to notch the bedpost. Just not my thing.” 

“I...” And this was more overwhelming than the orgasm because he had to ask, sounding pathetic to his own ears, “why me then?” 

“Don’t know. Just liked you right away. Before we met, actually. Lucius was always telling me about you and the stories made me laugh. Your texts were always funny too. Then he started showing me pictures of you and I knew what he was up to, but I let him do it. I was interested.” 

“Fuck and he’d know I would be too,” Charlie realized. “He knows exactly who I like to take home when it’s not for...” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Izzy’s hand came to rest on Charlie’s hip, “but I’ll listen if you want to talk about your job. I get the gist.” 

“I like it,” he said quickly. “I’m not traumatized or whatever and it’s not even that often. I’m pretty good at the upfront work, so it usually doesn’t make it that far. Anyway, my point is that Lucius just...matched us. And that doesn’t freak you out?” 

“That’s just Luc. If I got upset every time he was insightful, I wouldn’t get anything done.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” His attention drifted up to the ceiling. The spot where the camera had come down. “Does he want me too?” 

“He knows you want him, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“He’d have to be way dumber than I give him credit for not to know that,” Charlie said ruefully. “He met me before I learned how to be subtle about anything."

"He told me that too."

"Welp, that's embarrassing as hell, thanks. Any way, I like you a lot. And if it’s just you and me and the shining eye in the sky, I’ll still enjoy any time we have together. I mean you just made my head turn inside out, so obviously.” 

“I meant it. Pack a bag and stay for as long as you want,” Izzy squeezed his hip. “I can’t speak for Luc, but I figure we’ll know after tomorrow night.” 

“Mmm, no pressure.” 

“There isn’t,” Izzy drew his hand slowly upwards again, a possessive stroke over Charlie’s stomach and chest, then grasped his chin for a long sweet kiss. He pulled away with a hum of satisfaction. “You’ll be amazing.” 

The bed was big, but Charlie curled up close to Izzy when the lights went out. Izzy slept on his stomach, one hand under the pillow, the other resting lightly on Charlie’s arm. They both fell into a deep sleep. 

The next day at work, it was only Jim’s rigorous training on focus that kept Charlie at all on track. Images from the night before kept teasing at the edges of his mind. He went back to his own apartment as soon as he could reasonably leave. Digging through the closet, he pulled out a suitcase. 

He packed enough for a week. 

Within four days, he was back to pile more into a second bag. While he was at it, he cleaned out his refrigerator and turned down the thermostat. Then he texted Alma that he’d meet her at the restaurant instead of at his place that week. 

Living with Izzy was like a dream. The days floated one into another. Charlie would wake early and Izzy started getting up with him, apparently a natural early riser himself. They’d work out, sometimes just the two of them and sometimes with Read, who seemed entirely unconcerned about the fact that Charlie had moved in. If anything, she was pleased to have someone to have sit up competitions with since Izzy wouldn’t indulge their bro-y bullshit. 

Breakfast was light and eaten, as Charlie had predicted, on the rooftop as long as the weather was good and in the bedroom when it wasn’t. Sometimes they fooled around in the shower, but usually Izzy was all business, making sure Charlie had what he needed for the day and then sending him off.  At work, Charlie found his focus and handled all the usual crises pretty damn well if he said so himself. And he didn’t even have to. Jim sent steady status requests and replied to his rundowns with thumbs up emojis each time. 

From Lucius there was silence. At work anyway. At night, after a leisurely dinner, Izzy and Charlie would turn on the camera and enjoy each other. Sometimes immediately, sometimes hours later, Izzy’s phone would rumble and there would be texts from Lucius. He never showed them to Charlie, only smirked and relayed, 

“He liked the angle of that one.”  or “He’s impressed by how far back you got your knee.” 

It was frustrating and hot and dizzying. 

Charlie wanted to know. He wanted to hear Lucius’ voice. He hadn’t gone this long without it since they’d met at the bar. 

But he had Izzy’s voice which was different, but just as good. Izzy wasn’t as varied in his praise, didn’t lavish on compliments, but he was also freer with the few things he did offer. Charlie didn’t have to complete amazing feats to get at ‘you’re doing well’ or a ‘that’s perfect’. Izzy said it when Charlie was just futzing around in the shower in the morning or brought Izzy a cup of coffee. It was heady in it’s own way. 

The month went by and one morning, so early even Charlie wasn’t used to being awake, he was roused by the featherlight touch of fingers stroking from his shoulder down to the naked swell of his ass. Goosebumps broke over him. He could hear Izzy’s deep breathing on his right. The hand was coming from the left. 

“Lucius,” he murmured. “You’re back.” 

“I took an earlier flight,” Lucius went on with the light touch, tripping back up Charlie’s spine. “We finished and I had no more interest in Prague, I must tell you. Beautiful city, but I was thoroughly sick of it.” 

“Welcome back,” Charlie turned onto his back to see him. In the grimy dawn light, Lucius was washed into grays. He sat on the edge of the bed, still fully dressed, except for his shoes. The metal of his watch was cool where it brushed over Charlie’s skin. The touching went on from shoulder to chest then skirting down his stomach.

“I watched you two in the airplane bathroom,” Lucius told him in the same tone he used to dictate reports. One finger touched the root of Charlie’s cock, which was quickly waking up along with Charlie, and dragged upwards.  “From a few nights ago. You know how to use this thing, don’t you?” 

“You know I do,” Charlie lay very still. Years of want were piling down on him like a train stopped too quickly, cars crashing one into the other. Cataclysmic.

“But I think you take it even better,” Lucius’ watch kissed the head of Charlie’s cock, a little shock of cold. “Izzy’s gotten to enjoy you to his heart's desire. It’s my turn now.” 

“Yes, Lucius,” Charlie shivered. He’d been under the covers, he realized. How long had Lucius sat here, peeling away the blankets to get at what he wanted without waking him? 

“Come here.” Lucius reached for him and Charlie went into his arms. 

He was kissed then, gently, one hand on the small of his back. A hum of satisfaction, then the tip of Lucius’ tongue traced over Charlie’s bottom lip. His hand dipped down, massaging over Charlie’s crack and he moaned for it. 

“Quiet,” Lucius said in a hush. “You tired my man out last night and you won’t wake him now.” 

“He tired me out too,” Charlie pointed out, but he dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “When did you see that?” 

“On the car ride home. Bless privacy screens,” Lucius kissed Charlie’s neck, a hint of teeth there. Then an actual bite to his shoulder and Charlie had inhale sharply so he would moan again. “I bet your still open from it.” 

Those clever fingers that Charlie had watched sketch, text and mix liquor for years dipped down and pushed dry into him. He was sore from last night, another one of Izzy’s marathon session, and the pain/pleasure mix of it had him all the way to hard. 

“Look at you,” Lucius murmured, “you want it so badly, don’t you?” 

“Yes...yes...please.” 

“Another time I might make you work for it, but not today.” Lucius shoved his fingers in deeper and Charlie brought up his own hand to muffle his cry.  “That’s it, my clever one. Very good. I have lube in my front pocket. If you get it out, you can have it.” 

Charlie scrambled, each movement impaling him further on Lucius’ hand. His pocket was tight to his body the way he was sitting and it took Charlie long moments between that and the shocky jolts of pleasure to draw out the sachet. He held it up triumphantly and Lucius took it from him. He tore open with his teeth. 

“Get me out while you’re down there.” 

He leaned back a little this time and Charlie sucked in a harsh breath before working at Lucius’ fly. He couldn’t be as rough as he was on Izzy’s clothes. Lucius had a thing about his fashion and he wouldn’t appreciate an accidental tear.  As if it was an afterthought, Lucius started to slowly fuck his fingers in and out of him as Charlie worked. When at last he’d gotten the fly down, he discovered that Lucius had apparently flown across the world without underwear on. Also, he shaved.

Charlie’s mouth watered. 

“Not right now,” Lucius said amused. “But I’ve seen how much you like it. Wait until I get you up on that roof on a warm day. You can suck me off for as long as you want.” 

This might happen again? 

“I look forward to it,” he said blankly, already imagining it. Dimly, he was aware of Lucius’ pulling out and then pushing in again with far more ease, the lube almost as cold as the watch. “Fuuuck.” 

“Sorry, sweet one, I’ll warm it for you next time,” Lucius said with sympathy. “But I’m in a rush to have you. Turn around now.” 

Charlie went where Lucius wanted him. He straddled his thighs, back pressed to Lucius’ chest. His legs were spread wide, but he was able to rest his head against Lucius’s shoulder. 

“Kiss me?” he asked, trying to sound smooth instead of desperate. Not sure he managed. 

“How does anyone say no to that?” Lucius smiled. “You are the reason the word 'winsome' was invented.” 

And then Lucius did kiss him, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s chest to hold him in place. Lost in the kiss, Charlie missed how he aligned himself and just as Lucius slid his tongue into Charlie's mouth, he also impaled him on his cock and swallowed down his moan.

The position was intoxicating. Charlie could barely move, held in place by Lucius’ startlingly strong arms and legs spread too wide to gain leverage. It gave Lucius endless ability to grope him, and he took advantage, doing as through an assessment of Charlie’s body as Charlie had done of Izzy’s that first night. 

“And these...”Lucius ran a thumb over Charlie’s left nipple. “They look so sensitive.” 

“They are,” Charlie gasped as Lucius gave him a hard thrust. 

“Mm, so how does this feel?” Lucius pinched the little pink bud and Charlie’s hips stuttered into the unfeeling air, seeking friction where none existed. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. He wasn’t supposed to make noise. He had to be quiet. Lucius pinched again, longer this time and Charlie bit down on his lip. 

“Trying so hard,” Lucius praised, only a little mocking at the edges. “Look at that pretty dick of yours. Just wants to be touched doesn’t it? Have you thought about my hand on your cock before Charlie?” 

“So many times,” he admitted. 

“Mmm, at work even?” 

“Sometimes...” 

“Naughty,” Lucius chuckled low and his hand moved to Charlie’s other nipple. Gave it a hard flick that made Charlie instinctively try to escape. But Lucius had him in his grip now. “But I’ll keep it in mind. For very boring meetings.” 

“Yeah?” Charlie licked his lips. Lucius started fucking him again in earnest, steady hard strokes. 

“Oh yes. Especially one of those webcam calls. A whole desk to hide under,” Lucius licked a stripe up Charlie’s neck. “But for now, I want your hands on my knees and I want you to show me some of that stamina you built up with my man.” 

Charlie obeyed. Lucius’ grip fell to his hips, adjusting minutely and the whatever Charlie thought was happening before dropped away. That had been Lucius toying with him. This was Lucius actually fucking. The pounding was fierce and steady as a metronome. It nailed his prostate with terrifying accuracy. Each thrust made his eyes roll back and he couldn’t have jerked himself off even if he wanted to. He was shaking and all of his spare attention was just on keeping quiet. 

“Poor thing,” Lucius said when Charlie was getting sore enough that pleasure was tipping into pain. “Let me help you.” 

One hand went over his mouth, firm and snug. The other, at last thank fuck, went around his cock. There was no tugging, just a firm hold and then somehow, impossibly Lucius found another gear, pounding into him. Charlie came with a scream, but it was almost entirely muffled by Lucius’ hand on him. He held himself up, but barely, keeping his position as Lucius thrust a few more times and came with a stuttering sigh. 

“Lucius,” Charlie said to the carpet, barely hanging on. “Holy shit.” 

“Mm, agreed,” came a fucked out laugh and he was hauled back up, limp a rag doll. Lucius kissed his shoulder, his neck, his cheek in a rain of affection. “Too much?” 

“No,” Charlie echoed his laugh. “I think for the first time in my life, exactly enough.” 

“Should I be offended?” Izzy grumbled. He had rolled to face them at some point and his hand was on Lucius’ back. 

“I meant between the two of you,” Charlie snorted. “I am sore as hell now though. Anyone else wants to ride this ride and it’s a twenty-four hour holding period.” 

“We’ll just have to use Iz,” Lucius decided, reaching out his unlubed hand to caress his husband’s face. “Sorry to wake you, darling.” 

“No, you’re not,” Izzy captured his hand and kissed the palm. “But I’m too happy that you’re home to care.” 

“Happy to be here. For many reasons, but right now if I don’t sleep I won’t be responsible for my actions. Darling, will you take care of the mess I’ve made of Charlie?” 

“Of course.” 

Charlie got a last kiss, a pat on the ass and then was sent to the bathroom to be gently washed down in the shower by a very attentive Izzy. 

“I think he wants me,” Charlie told him as Izzy turned the spray on both of them. 

“Yeah, confirmed,” Izzy laughed. 

“But for how long?” 

“A week, a month, a year, forever?” Izzy shrugged. “You think I don’t ask myself that sometimes? All you can do is hold on.”

With a sigh, Charlie slipped his arms around Izzy’s waist and did just that. The hot water pounded down around them both. They get out eventually, dress for the day. It was Saturday. No urgency to follow. Charlie would eat breakfast with Izzy on the rooftop. Eventually, the beautiful monster they both loved would unfurl his wings again and they would see where the day would take them.

[meeeeeeeep78]

👀 heard you have a n25 au? please use this ask as an excuse to infodump im curious about it!

HI HELLO i have two actually kind of but the main one i’ve been thinking about recently is the one i actually did end up writing a little fic for,, (i guess more accurately the fic was initially a one off thing but then the au sprung from it)

essentially it’s kind of a medieval au thing,, they all live in this kingdom and mafuyu is the princess. ena lives in her fathers art studio, mizuki is a knight and has just been appointed as mafuyu’s bodyguard, and kanade is a rumoured witch of the woods!!

other honourable mentions include akito, who is another knight, and toya, who is the prince of the kingdom next door :)

since it started with a fic and i’m considering writing more this one actually has a bit of a narrative, so i’ll put that here as well if you’re interested!! it’s under the cut

mafuyu’s 18th birthday is coming up, and there’s lots of stuff being prepared for celebration. one of these things is a big old fancy royal portrait, enter ena. it was actually her father who was asked for, but he’s out of the kingdom and ena decides to do it herself. she gets the portrait done, but it feels like something’s missing. she drags mafuyu outside for a breath of fresh air and a change of scenery, and then essentially sneaks her out of the castle grounds to get away from its suffocating atmosphere. for a moment while they’re walking, the real mafuyu slips through, and ena rushes to paint it. however, the sun is setting, and it won’t be long before someone notices their absence. they both return home. ena stays up late finishing the messier portrait from memory, and that’s where the first bit ends.

everything from here hasn’t actually been written and is mostly just planning,,, it’s also very messy and if i ever do get around to writing this all stuffs probably gonna change

as mizuki (and maybe akito?) is/are packing up, they’re summoned to the front of the castle. Mafuyu is going to go pick up a special dress for her birthday, and she needs bodyguards. mizusis tailor shop!!!! flowery wedding dress design, very flowy and nice. Very obviously a wedding dress also. huh that’s wierd. somethingll probably happen either before or after this dunno what yet,, they head back, and mizuki is summoned once more to be debriefed for tomorrow’s proceedings. essentially, they have to make sure mafuyu’s in the new dress, and escort her to the grand hall. if she asks any questions, reveal nothing. it’s supposed to be a surprise, after all!

option 1: mafuyu is woken up in the middle of the night by mizuki, who’s asking her about that prince her mother often brings up. they were sent on a date once, but it was rather awkward. basically, she’s supposed to get married to him in the afternoon. this didn’t sit well with mizuki, who came to warn the princess ahead of time. eventually, they sneak out for a breath of fresh air, and run into ena, who wanted to show mafuyu the new portrait.

option 2: mafuyu makes her way to the grand hall in her dress as instructed, but freezes halfway down the aisle. “haha wow it’s just so beautiful she must be overwhelmed with joy let’s give her a second to gather herself ohmygodmafuyuareyouokayweneedtogetyououtofhere” (mizuki gets them out of there, berates themself for not warning mafuyu)

either way, something something they end up running away to the woods and find kanades humble abode.

don’t really know what’s happens from there, i’ve also only just realized what a mess this whole thing is while writing it all out apologies lol,,, i uhhh idk man idk