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minheelovelee · 11 months

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Hi can I please request K nsfw a-z thank you so so much . I'm in love with your writings. 😄😁

thank u anonie. i'm so happy you like my writing. and thanks for requesting!

nsfw a-z: k

warnings: nsfw

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's sooo good with aftercare. his caretaking skills are top tier. he's great with foreplay too. he’ll snuggle you with his big arms and make sure you feel loved. he can be quite rough, so he knows how important aftercare is. some people were born to be really good doms. like k.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

um. he likes his chest area. if you mark him up with little bruises or scratches, he would stare at them all day. he's such a weirdo. he'll look down his shirt or watch himself shirtless in the mirror.

hips. he loves using them for momentum. and he always rests an innocent hand on your hip to remind you he’s there.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

cumming inside >. deep down, he knows its not the safest practice. but when the moment arises, he can't force himself to care.

he cums so much. buckets, bro.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he would never share it. it's a secret, after all. he's kind of an open book when it comes to sex.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

bro has experience. i think he's fooled around quite a bit. he knows how to utilize his strengths and preferences in the bedroom. i think he would be the perfect virgin-killer.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he's a missionary-lover. legs on his shoulders, borderline mating-press is his fav. positions where he can see his partner are preferred.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's such a funny guy. teasing is one of his special skills. if his partner is the nervous type, he would be so sweet and make sure they're giggling. he doesn't feed into another persons' anxiety. he takes them out of their head by making them laugh :)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he has some sort of hair. being bald feels weird. sometimes he shaves when he's bored in the shower. otherwise, he lets his hair do its' own thing.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he's all about intimacy and love when he's with a significant other. he likes to make sex feel special, no matter if it's the first or fiftieth time.

if he's choosing to see a one-night-stand or a reoccurring hook-up, it's a different story. sex doesn't always have to be important.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i really don't think he gets off that often. he probably doesn't need to because he has healthy coping mechanisms for stress. lol. if he gets turned on by something, then he goes for it. otherwise he will wait. that's probably why his loads are huge.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

strength kink. he's getting so big. he can hold you in the air and simultaneously fuck you. also likes holding you up while he's kneeling on the bed.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

probably the bedroom. he's quite respectful, so i don't think he's into the whole exhibitionism thing. privacy is nice. but, if someone wanted to watch, he wouldn't be against it. if one of his little friends had a cute crush on you, he wouldn't mind letting them watch.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

exposed legs. short shorts or skirts.

he also likes having u sit in his lap while he does other things. his mind will slowly drift towards your body.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

pushing someone too far, too fast. he likes to take things slow. patience is so important in a relationship. if u were a virgin and asked him for something intense on your first time, he would probably say no. the last thing he wants is to make someone overwhelmed.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i think he prefers receiving. the head doesn't even have to be good for him to like it. he'd really like to teach someone how to s*ck d*ck. guiding their lips up and down gently, then sliding his cock down their throat when they don't expect it.

he's so good at eating pussy. he loves a challenge. if a girl says she's never cum from a man before, he would gladly show her how it's done. and if she says she doesn't squirt, he changes that real quick.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he's intense. things can get pretty rough when he's domming. but he has the ability to hold back. if he's trying to warm u up or tease you, then he takes it slow. when he chooses to be gentle, it's either because he's scared to break you, or he wants to be mean.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he's great at quickies. especially in the morning. he would rather wait until there's enough time for him to preform well. but if it has to be done, it has to be done.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's willing to take risks, but he is careful with them. if he knows it's not an appropriate time to take a risk, then he will step back. if he can really set the scene and control the situation, then he's willing to be a little risky.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

oh my god he has so much stamina. he never stops. you'll have to call it quits every time, because he'll just keep going.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

for sure owns some toys for himself. probably has a pocket pussy of some sort. he's game to use toys on his partner too. he thinks looking for toys online is fun.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

omg he can be so mean. his restraint is unmatched, so he'll keep teasing until you give him the response he wants.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's not loud. his sounds are mostly just deep breathing in your ear. he'll grunt when he finishes or groan when getting head. otherwise, he just spends his time talking. talking to you and to himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

let's touch on virgin-killer!k

word on the street, if you're training at hybe and want to lose your virginity, you should go find him. he lives for the look on a cute girls' face when he slips it in for the first time. he was the most experienced trainee for years. he used to get around. even made a name for himself by being so good and sweet in bed. now that he's debuted, he doesn't keep up with it as much. but every now and then you'll see an unfamiliar face in his bedroom.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i like to think he's long as fuck. he doesn't have any outstanding thickness, but he's got that mile-long shlong. 7 inches on a great day. usually 6.37 inches.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

like i said before, he's got some crazy restrain and a lot of patience. he can fuck every night, or once per business week. he's cool with whatever.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he doesn't go to sleep after sex. he's too busy replaying it in his mind and over-analyzing every movement. he'll snuggle u tight and urge you to sleep if ur tired :)

#mhll &team #&team smut #mhll k

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bunny584 · 4 months

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IM OKAY

This is gonna be long, bear with me

Come sit with me, Bunbun, I brought hot cocoa (and also liquor if you need it)

First of all, thank you. I don't think I say it enough, but thank you, thank you, thank you. If it wasn't for you, I don't think I would have gotten into writing JJK stuff nearly as quickly as I did. Your writing continues to get me all fluffy and happy, and encourages me to keep writing

There's something about like...medical angst that's just different. I dunno how to put it. Maybe I get edgy sometimes and get the urge to write my own medical angst, but I'm always so nervous about getting it wrong, so I'm definitely delighted to see how you do it. Especially considering your knowledge! I do my best to research and understand, but it's still one of those things that makes me a bit nervous as I don't want to represent anything incorrectly

I don't think that different forms of grief are shown a lot, one of which includes sex, so I'm happy to see a new depiction of grief in a story. Especially coming from you! I admire you a lot for a bunch of reasons ❤️ it always fascinates me to see how the thoughts of other people process and appear on paper (or text), and I get so damn giddy when you post a new update (or in general) because it's, like...there's one of my fav authors! You make me fangirl, damnit.

This whole chapter was just a wild ride, from the boys struggling, like Satoru taking it out on Sugaru (pls give the man some extra love and kisses :( ) to just the whole chaos, to Mama Darling, TO THE FUCKIN PREGNANCY REVEAL?? THEN THE LOSS???? AAAAAA THAT HIT LIKE A SUCKER PUNCH, the boys were SO close to being papas :c </3 hhhhhhhh your writing is so good but FUCK I weep for each baby involved, literal and emotional </3 I know I gotta be patient but I can’t wait for them to get back on that baby-making grind. I’ll be a good girl, I swear, so I’ll dream whilst I wait for another gift from you

Next next

Whenever I think about posting my stories, I get nervous because I'm a shy, praise-whore of a bean, but it's also because I wanna make a good impression on someone who I love and look up to reading my stuff. Like, "this author is so good, I hope they like my writing, too," type of deal. I'm bad at articulating my own feelings BFKFBFKDN I’m so antsy about you reading my fic because I want you to like it aaaaaaa (mildly related, I did a TINY rewrite of the pianist!Satoru fic to make it better, and by tiny I mean that I just went back in with a thesaurus lmao)

Lastly!

I'm okay! I'm a strong girl, I got this, I CAN DO IT FOR YOU

AND I DID!

I can do it for your writing because it's worth it! Plus, crying can be very cathartic! I very much approve of using writing/reading as an emotional outlet to vent out one's feelings and get that sweet, sweet catharsis. The only part I don't like about crying is how stuffy my nose gets. I'm unable to blow my nose because it plugs my ears hardcore which drives me insane and makes me dizzy, but otherwise it can be so freeing. Even if the heart hurts, I know you have the power to mend the cracks and breaks with lacquer and gold dust

It makes me happy that you consider my heart, by the way ❤️ don't be afraid to write whatever your heart desires, even if it hurts! I know we'll be here for each other through and through to heal our souls

(P.S. you're beautiful, both inside and out ❤️ yellow suits you, like the sun 💛)

BABY!!!!! My sweet girl. I was waiting for when you’d forgive me enough for that hell of a chapter I promise heaven is coming soon.

Okay, let’s talk about it.

1. Hi, you don’t ever have to thank me for writing. Your loyal readership, constant support, and incredible, insightful comments are thanks enough. You are one of my favorites, I do hope I’ve made it abundantly clear.

2. Medical angst is god tier. Its raw. Its omnipresent. With your technical writing skill you’d carry it out, flawlessly.

3. You always make me blush like a fool when you compliment my work in ways I don’t deserve 😭😭😭 I’ve already warned you! Affection means I fall first and hard and that’s a natural disaster for all parties involved??? In all seriousness, the way you respond to my words on paper is…probably one of the most beautiful things to come out of this hobby I picked up last October.

4. You are insanely talented. Tether me is incredible. My commentary is in my drafts because I wrote as I read. You’ll be receiving a full, unhinged review tomorrow. And to this day, Pianist! Satoru takes the cake for my favorite take on that boy.

5. I know you’re strong. And you can take what I dish out. It doesn’t stop the pause I have before I hit publish 😅 there are a few of you. With pretty, pretty tender souls that I know have put me in time out at least a time or two with the recent infusion of angst/hurt. Quietly I wonder if you guys will come back to me. I’ve been lucky so far that you always do.

Whew, getting me a lil emotional. To my curly haired soulmate - I adore you, thank you for being here and being you 💕

#bunnyblabs #h&h #love letters

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spookyserenades · 1 year

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Hi 💓 I rarely say something like this on anyone’s blogs because I just wanted to say that I’ve been incredibly enjoying Trouvaille. Compared to reading hybrid au/omegaverse I’ve read before, I find Trouvaille to be the most refreshing, unique, and truly therapeutic. The whole environment in the plot nearly reminded me of Practical Magic (it’s one of my top fav witch and autumn movies - I suggest to watch it if interested). The stick-style house, nature, witchcraft, and all! I’m totally crazy for that kind of vibe and aesthetic. I guess that’s one of the reasons I couldn’t put down my phone without finished reading all of the chapters c:

While I’ve really appreciated the fact that you actually included something new with animals such as elk and coyote, I feel like I haven’t seen that often in other stories. I mean, I loved that I learned a bit about elk’s shedding season! I actually looked up online and I found it pretty engrossing.

Trouvaille has been really cozying me in the most possible way because of your imagination, creativity, your style of writing, and most of all, how you deeply portrayed the characteristics of BTS because THEY’RE EQUALLY PRECIOUS, I JUST CAN’T BUT SQUEALING WHILE SWINGING MY FEET IN AIR.

Ok ok ok lemme shut up for a sec - lastly, I’m really looking forward to new chapters you’re coming up with and I’m steadying myself before I burst out with an excitement! 😌

Submitted by @linlinlily

Dana's response:

Hi my love!! 🥹🩷 I'm so honored that you decided to send your thoughts on Trouvaille to me, thank you so so much! It makes me so happy that you've been enjoying Trouvaille. I'm glad that you find it refreshing and therapeutic to read, because it has been incredibly therapeutic to write and share with you all! Practical Magic is a major source of inspiration for not only the house they live in, but Y/N's spiritual practice, the town they live in, and even Y/N's mother (think of the aunts in that movie, same vibe!) I adore Practical Magic, and it is definitely one of my autumn faves, too! The whole witchy, cozy, autumn aesthetic is close to my heart. I'm ecstatic you love it too! 🥰

I'm also super happy that you love the type of hybrids I've chosen for each of them. I love wild animals and nature, and thought that apex predator species and bigger animals would be fun to play with. Jeongguk being an elk hybrid has been one of my favorite characterizations, I think antlers are beautiful and match his already sharp facial features. Also, I love that you've looked up some facts about elks, I, too, have been researching all of the animals that are in Trouvaille, and it's so interesting to learn about these creatures. Especially the sounds they make, their habits, and differences between one another! 😉

You're so so kind, and I sincerely thank you for your sweet words and compliments for my writing and Trouvaille. I hope it keeps you cozy throughout the autumn and winter seasons! And I also hope that you continue to love hybrid BTS in Trouvaille, I have so much more to share with you! 😍

Again, thank you for all of your love and support my dear, I cannot wait to share Chapter Ten with you on the 7th! Hope to hear from you again, sending you love and hugs! 🫂

#submission #response #trouvaille #dana's thoughts #linlinlily

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underoospeterparker · 10 months

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🍩- Doughnut

Hiii:) marauders plsss

I’m about 5’5 with long wavy dirty blonde hair, grey-blue eyes and I’m kinda skinny but have large hips.

I play guitar and I like to paint, crochet, draw, and write poetry and stories. I’m from the south so I have a slight twang. I love reading and my personality type is a INFP. I dress kinda coquette.

I love traveling and going on road trips and drives with my two older siblings. I want to become a marine biologist:)

My fav tv shows are sex education, Ginny and Georgia, and a series of unfortunate events. I really like reading and playing video games:) my favorite artists are Taylor swift and Lana del Rey

I’m really shy and quiet but I’m super energetic and kind when people actually talk to me

I love you and thank you so much:3

welcome to my 300 celebration!

i ship you with sirius black! ( this is for anon 2 )

a. playing guitar for sirius:

"you never told me you had a guitar, baby," sirius said as soon as he stepped into your dormitory for the first time. "you play?" you smiled at him, grabbing your guitar from your bedside and sitting down on top of your covers. "ever since i was little. you?" fumbling with the strings, you saw out of the corner of your eye that he'd sat down next to you. he pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead and murmured, "no. i've always wanted to, though." you felt him hesitate as he quietly added, "can you play something for me?" "thought you'd never ask," you grinned.

b. going on a road trip with him to visit your siblings:

"siri!" you laughed, almost lost to the wind as your boyfriend rolled down the windows of his new but beaten up van. he laughed when he saw your messy hair, and reached over to tug a strand away from your face. how you hadn't noticed was beyond him, it would have irritated him to death. you looked over at him, a huge smile on your face. "i'm happy you're here," you shouted over the wind. "thank you." he returned your smile, reaching over the console to grab your hand that was closest to him. "i'm always here. whenever you need me."

c. wearing a new dress around him:

sirius gaped when he saw you in your pretty new dress, one that hugged your curves and looked absolutely gorgeous on you. granted, you looked beautiful in everything, but this one especially made his mouth drop open in shock because it showed how beautiful you were. "do you like it?" you giggled after you saw his reaction, making your way over to his lap. "do i like it?" he repeated your question, placing you on his lap. "sweetheart, i love it. you look gorgeous." you buried your head in his shoulder, blushing, as he wrapped his arms around you, happy just being with his favourite girl.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #marauders era #fluff #drabble #300 celebration #300 followers

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rinstaro · 1 year

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Hi there, just wanted to say that I’ve been “lowkey stalking” your blog for a while now and I really enjoy your works. I also use them as inspiration since I JUST fell into the Link fandom and this blog is a great place to look back on. I will say that I’m only really familiar with Breath of the Wild since that was what got me into the fandom ever since I saw Link in that one outfit that makes him look like a girl but that’s fine by me, femboys need love too. Anyways I’d thought I’d share with you my ideas that I have of Link, so this isn’t really a request, but rather a conversation that maybe others can relate to if they please. I’m certainly in the process of writing a juicy story where Link, (who’s an high functioning mute in my imagination- don’t ask why) gets jelly when my oc brings over a friend who looks more like a prettier boy that Link is and he gets sad. Then my oc tries to make him feel better by showing him all the love that Link deserves. Also I have a thing with Tall Queens and Short Kings… cuz I’m tall myself, about 5’8” or about 69.6 inches (nice) and my oc is 6’1” or 73 inches and Link is 5’2” or 62 inches. Long story short, Tall Queen makes Short King Link feel loved and cared for like the real person that he is, also there’s a rope involved. Still working out the details. Sorry for rambling like this, I talk to much all the time, just wanted to say hi, enjoy your work, keep going for it, and rest when you need to… Also I’m Dianna by the way, nice to meet you. Have an apple 🍏 c:

oh you're so sweet!!!!!!!!!! hi!!!!! im kore, nice to meet you!!!!

i headcanon that wild/link is selectively mute and autistic!!! i am also autistic!! i think he signs!!!! i also think that he only speaks to his partner

THE VAI OUTFIT IS IN MY TOP 3 FAV SETS FROM BOTW!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love that ur a tall queen!!!!! i love tall queens theyre super beautiful and attractive!!

i love feminine men they are my type!!!!!! im a whopping 5' 1" but its okay cause me and wild can be small together !!!!! ofc i love big strong men too (read: twilight) my bf is the perfect mix!!!! he's 5'2" but he's jacked as fuck i miss him i wanna sit on his face!!!!!!!

i love apples!!! thank u so much ur such a darling!!!!! i wish you the best of luck with your piece

#kore.talks #mrswritter

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jmrothwell · 1 year

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Writer Asks! 11, 15, 30, 49

Thanks agains Ash!! <3 (Long answer is long, so I'll put a read more after the first one. On that note I'll link the question list here: questions for fic writers)

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is?

I am very partial to Reggie (82 of my 99 fics are tagged with him, granted a lot of those are prompts but STILL. Plus I don't know if it's because other picked up on that too or not but like almost every time I open up prompts Reggie is almost always the top requested character)

I adore adorkable, rays of sunshine. Like I have 3 go to charcter types (two personality based ones, and then dark haired/light eyed characters) and like my wife picked up on Reggie being my fav before I even said anything to her, because he fits 2 out of the three.

It's at the point where if Reggie's Jam(or Now or Never) comes on in the car and the GPS interrupts the song, she just automatically restarts it knowing I'm going to anyway because HOW DARE.

He's a Star Wars fan with musical chops, he's a little airheaded bt he's got a heart of gold. And there is so much you COULD theorize and speculate about his character just because of what's been revealed and how he was played and I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written?

AAAAAAH! OMG!! but I have so many!!

I love my Supernatural Romance AU's (Feats of Crimson, We Run Together(it may only have the one fic but that is the verse name), Closest to Heaven, and Devil Searching For Redemption)

So those are definitley my top 4 but I don't know if I can rank them beyond that! They're all so good for different reasons!!!

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

Sink Your Teeth was out of my comfort zone regarding the intimacy. I am bad at writing action and being intimate is a type of action I hadn't really attempted before. (In fact prior to Slices of Summer-Fireworks I hadn't written that much in the way of kissing scenes, I think I'd only written one other kiss before then and it practically amounted to 'and they kissed')

I had a similar issue with I Could be the Monster with the Alex POV section because that one had a lot of action (It originally was supposed to have more and be MUCH more detailed but I think it flows fairly well with how it ended up.)

In each of those cases I struggled and wrote and worried and ended up sharing/posting thinking this will surely be hated/flop because all I could see was all the ways I could improve, or how it was envisioned in my head. And every single time the almost exact opposite happened.

Which just keeps reminding me A: to stop doubting myself, B: it's ok to take risks with my writing(I won't improve otherwise), C: Allowed me to sort of mentally give myself to pursue MORE stories like that.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Right now I am actively working on a few things atm, The next chapters of While You're in the World, Can't Get You (Out of my Mind), and I'm almost always slowly pecking away at my rulie fake/convenience marriage fic. Here's a few lines from each of those!:

R: luke

R: I’m serious

R: if ur not up I’m leaving ur ass

L: you wouldn’t

L: but don’t worry

L: I’ll be up

Luke was absolutely right, Reggie didn’t leave him behind when he wasn’t awake the next morning. However, the dark haired boy had no qualms against pummeling Luke with a pillow until he did wake up and got dressed.

“That’s a bit of a story.” Luke’s voice sounded over his shoulder, where Julie’s eyes drifted to. Reggie hadn’t thought this part of their plan through. He’d so quickly become accustomed to Luke’s vibrancy he almost entirely forgot he was dead, and very much looked it.

He braced himself as he watched the shock overtake Julie’s face, at this point he had almost been screaming. Reggie’d also forgotten how much Julie liked to unknowingly defy his expectations.

“I’m dreaming,” She exhaled as she turned away from Luke and himself.

WTF!?

JULES IS THIS YOU?!

Julie squints down at her phone, as a tension pulls inside her chest. The thoughts that had been swarming around her head like a beehive clear away only slightly as she tries to piece together what Flynn is going on about. She clicks the link to the video that was sent and immediately her stomach drops to her feet.

It’s not a very long video nor is it very clear, shaky and obviously taken by someone at a bit of a distance. However, she recognizes the building in the shot, the very same chapel she and Reggie had been at earlier that day-yesterday? What time was it?

Julie doesn’t care about the time soon enough as the video zooms in and focuses on Reggie, his broad smile only briefly obscured by what must be the back of her head, her dark braids falling into cascading curls. Julie forgets how to breathe as her chest collapses in on itself.

She remembers this exact moment and watches in a sort of distant horror, nausea building in the pit of her stomach, as Reggie laughs before linking arms with her. There is no denying she and Reggie very clearly, very soberly, very deliberately, walk arm in arm into the chapel.

#ask me things??

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house-vestra · 2 years

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fe17 thoughts (part 1)

first round of engage thoughts... i just beat chapter 17 but this is mostly about the firene gang so probably only spoilers for the early game

probably the worst FE in terms of line writing; ppl rag on fates for bad writing but mainly for plot holes/concept but i didn’t mind fe14 on a line level. there have certainly been more times during engage where the actual lines characters were given felt very amateurish.

in terms of characterization, i feel this game is probably the weakest as well. the character gimmicks are fine to me (none feel very egregious at this point) but i think the characters are hurt by how short the supports are. i think these are the shortest supports in an FE game? generally i feel like in FE, supports generally each contain a full story beat so a support chain will consist of 3 separate encounters, usually with at 1 or 2 reversals in there, but fe17 supports sometimes take all 3 levels to cover just one story beat (i.e. the b support picks up directly where the c support conversation left off, rather than being a new conversation resulting from the characters getting to know each other better). that gives the impression the characterization is much shallower than in other FE games. but i’m not convinced it... needed to be this way? there are moments where i feel like some characters DO have other things going on for them other than the 1 gimmick/character trait from their c-support.. i’ll revisit this when i’ve unlocked more a-supports i guess

like many people, i was taken aback by Alear’s design but I’ve mostly come around to it. I played M!Alear because he has less hair to look at. ppl have criticized the divine dragon thing being an excuse for protagonist worship but I don’t mind it; the game plays with how being worshipped is actually something uncomfortable for Alear and there’s a minor recurring theme about the nature of worship in Elyos which is a little juicy

mixed feelings on framme/clanne (i always want to write framme/cramme lol). probably least fav christmas cavs, which is a feat when alan/lance exist. i actually do think the Divine Dragon Fan Club is very funny... but i don’t like either of their designs and i feel like.... they’re annoying??

alfred is a wannabe himbo and i love that for him. it’s an interesting choice to give him that personality but make him look like That. i liked most of his supports; he is very funny.

reserving judgment of celine until i’ve gotten her later supports. she does talk about tea a lot but i sense she does have more going on; i like that she’s more canny and mature than a lot of kind younger sister types. i feel like a lot of the character supports are padded by polite pleasantries but celine sometimes cuts through the niceties in a way that suggests there’s more going on with her?? i will return to this point after i get more supports. i do like her design; she is cute and her big poofy dress is funny.

chloe is pretty. i think her thing with eating weird foods is funny as well, but the writers (possibly localizers, could be in the original jp context as well) missed the mark with calling the food “folk food.” it would be one thing if what she was eating was actually established in lore to be what commoners or regional peasants eat as a fact of the world. we do have a lot of noble characters who could be aghast by that. but we also have characters from poorer backgrounds and nobody eats what chloe is shown to be eating, so it doesn’t feel like honest world building when chloe lectures other characters about the authenticity of weird regional delicacies

(but it could have been funny if chloe could only cook weird things that no one else likes in the cafe)

louis’s thing with watching ppl is a little uncomfy for me but i could change my mind at some point. i do like his green eyes when he opens them, and i like that they do have him open them at times; that endears the character to me. i like that he’s a pushy big brother to zelkov

limited thoughts on boucheron; i do like his reactions to alfred and etie harassing him and he makes a good straight man to them. “those are my abs” from the etie support was great. his model does make it abundantly clear that the shoulders on the adult male model are too broad, so that’s distracting.

i actually like most of the firene gang on their own... but as a group they are too nice lol and it makes most of the conversations/supports in the early game feel kind of bland and samey.

ESPECIALLY QUEEN EVE; i feel like her design is very regal, proud, and borderline-could-be-a-bitch but then she just is a normal nice lady, so i was disappointed.

as a side note, to all the people (on reddit) who keep saying they wrote etie to be a buff bodybuilder but didn’t draw her as one... they didn’t write her to be a buff bodybuilder. they wrote her to aspire to be a buff bodybuilder, but she struggles to put on muscle like alfred does, read the words on the screen, i beg of you.

thought jean would be a stronger unit but he’s... not that good for me; i feel like... qi adepts aren’t good???? i don’t mind that he and anna are children but i have seen some criticism of their ages.

anna is cute. i have the same criticism of her as i do with all post-fe12 anna’s, which is that fe12 anna is best anna. the money thing is more toned down in engage, which i appreciate. she is so little. i think she has good growths but i haven’t noticed her being that good because mine is flimsy as paper.

gameplay-wise, the emblems are really fun. this is a new level of unit customization for Fire Emblem. class changing/skills were serviceable before but they required grinding and some level of commitment to them, whereas i’ve been swapping emblems on and off characters very liberally so the way i play each unit changes between battles. that is very neat.

edelgard/dimi/claude is my favorite emblem; fallen star is very good, atrocity is strong but less useful, raging storm is mostly not useful due to the cost but i’ve used it once. tiki is good as well as she’s strong; i’ve not noticed her increased growths having that much effect but could be because i swap her on and off people.

for base game emblems, i think probably... micaiah > lyn > sigurd > byleth > celica > eirika > corrin > ike > lucina > leif > marth > roy

i haven’t used leif and roy that much so they could be better than i recall.

unit-wise, i don’t think i’ve noticed many stand outs for me? everyone is roughly usable, and i’ve trained everyone but clanne and vander (i’m in desperate need of more master seals)

everyone is saying you need to promote at level 10. THERE’S NOT ENOUGH MASTER SEALS TO DO THAT. i promoted everyone at level 20 and i still have people sitting there waiting for master seals.

speaking of not having enough of a resource, i’m also very poor. i upgraded all countries to level 2 to get their regional clothes but the level 3 is TOO EXPENSIVE. i have a lot of gold skirmishes but they’re rough to do bc they’re pretty high level and if i use my high level guys, those guys will level up, and then the skirmish level will INCREASE MORE. this is... like a punishment for sisyphus

they buffed armors so much that mages are really indispensable. hammers and armorslayers... do not work lol

i appreciate that they gave us lots of shiny staves to use, and pretty early too. i have not used them.

i guess alear is my strongest unit??? they’re pretty dodgy but didnt stop marni from ONE SHOTTING ME.

i’ll do brodia gang next; i have lots of thoughts on them. i’m recording these for future me’s reference, but i’m happy to hear other people’s thoughts too!

#m #fe17 #elyos #mine #i'm not finished w the game so could change my mind at some point #i wonder when the fe17 ao3 category will pop off #there's only 79 fics rn but i assume most ppl haven't gotten most of the content yet #my wager is it certainly won't get the readership 3h did but it should get several thousand like fe13 and fe14

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jaydezsworld1 · 3 months

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Y'all I need TF2 request I'm so fucking bored. I'm just a delulu person who writes about (almost) every fandom who has daddy issues.

Kinda realized I should introduce myself too, here I go :

-DID System of 8-11 (2 littles)

-Autism 👍

-In the LGBTQ/therian community

-Pronouns: They/it

-I'm kinda slow sometimes, so PLEASE simplify certain type of shit 😭

-Sniper, Heavy and Pyro main (mostly Sniper)

-Been a TF2 fan since ✨ZA PAN-DEMI-C✨ (2020 basically)

-Fav songs: Next up Forever (AJR), You can be the boss (Lana del ray) Treehouse (Alex G.)

-English is not my first language, sorry if I say anything in others languages cuz I'm basically Google Translate lmao

Boundaries of y'all wanna be moots

-If you forget certain boundaries of my different alters it's okay, just remember major ones of each, and basic ones.

-Have basic respect, and all the basic shit like no proshippers, and all of that.

-I have been survivor of SA and rape (twice) , if you wanna ask about I'll give you brief details, maybe not the whole story of what happened.

-No racism of shit like that.

-I am disabled, please don't make any jokes about disabled people. (Why would anyone do that?)

-I personally am on the Palestinian side yall 👍.

And one last thing, I'm a therian, so fuck off haters >:].

ALL MY BLOGS ARE SAFE SPACES ❗❗

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le-amewzing · 2 years

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36 Hours

Just when I thought I was out of this universe, a missing moment pulls me back in. ;P *Note: This is set in my "20 Winks" universe and is set during the events described in the oneshot, "What's Yours Is Mine, What's Mine Is Yours," but this can be enjoyed on its own~ I just highly rec reading the previously published stories first for major feels. :3c

Fic: "36 Hours" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Tom Dalton, Timothy McGee, & implied Alden Parker/Jess Knight (so please tag with Parknight, ty~ c:), with cameos from Nick Torres, Ronnie Tyler, & Dale Sawyer, as well as a background OC

Rating: light T

Words: ~4,710

Additional info: suspense, friendship, romance, 3rd person POV

Summary: Disgraced former Special Agent Tom Dalton has some visitors, but it's the one who has nothing to say that frightens him. -—Or, McGee and Parker question an imprisoned suspect, and McGee leaves with more questions than before.

Dalton had come to appreciate exercise more behind bars. He'd been fit enough, during his days as an NCIS REACT Agent, and less so once he'd become Supervisory Special Agent. But being behind bars had robbed him of distractions that once kept him from focusing on his physique.

Not to mention being in prison meant he couldn't enjoy his cigarettes the way he had, long ago, atop the roof of NCIS headquarters. No, cigarettes were currency, and he couldn't acquire them like a free man. Dalton had to be careful when he had them, and he risked a smoke only when he absolutely needed it.

"Dalton!"

One of the guards—ah, that was Ewing, because only his shrillness could cut through the post-lunch clamor inmates produced—stood by the doors leading out into the yard. Ewing squinted in Dalton's direction and beckoned to him with an impatient wave of his hand.

Dalton ground his teeth, gnashing the freshly lit treasure hanging between his lips. Of course today, one of his rare smoking days, the guards decided to get on his case. Normally they looked the other way when it came to these things, because little vices were nothing to concern themselves with, but Dalton dutifully dropped the cigarette on the dusty concrete and stamped the butt out with his shoe. So far, his stay at this particular Camp Fed had been agreeable, but that was thanks mostly to his good behavior. Dalton didn't want to mess with that.

"You could use some sun, Ewing," Dalton quipped once he was within earshot of the pasty corrections officer.

Ewing frowned, not partaking in their typical polite banter. He stepped aside for Dalton to pass, closed the door behind them, and unhooked the pair of cuffs from his belt. "You have visitors, Dalton."

Procedure explained the lack of friendliness. Dalton held his wrists behind him and eyed Ewing while he was shackled. "Anyone I know?"

"A pair of feds, from NCIS."

Ah. Dalton's eyes widened at the news, an amused spark burning to life in him. Suddenly, he no longer cared about today's wasted cigarette…especially if the agents here right now were here because of previous ones well spent.

Ewing gauged his reaction and narrowed his blue eyes (pale, like the rest of him). "Surprised? I was, too. Didn't think you had any friends left at your old agency."

Dalton shook his head. He tamped down his excitement as Ewing came around front to lead the way to the visitors' area. "No," he answered honestly, "I don't think I do, either."

Their path from the inner courtyard exit where daily recreation occurred snaked through the prison at long intervals and ninety-degree angles. It wasn't a maze, but the length was an abysmally boring though healthy one, and Dalton had never bothered memorizing the path, understanding he'd never get out of here on his own. Besides, the visitors' area was right up by the main entrance and not far from the warden's office—meaning it was one of the most heavily guarded places in the prison. Making a mad dash out of here, even in decent shape, was not a risk Dalton wanted to take.

Dalton followed Ewing to the entrance and past it, catching the eyes of some other personnel. Some of them looked at him curiously (maybe they wondered over the visit, too?), but many ignored him, as they tended to do with all the inmates, unless the inmates gave them a reason to pay attention.

Ewing halted him outside a room that was little more than another cell, just slightly bigger in size and with solid, enclosed walls, the kind of room needed as though this were a visit with Dalton's lawyer. Ewing signed a clipboard another guard held out, and the latter then unlocked the door while Ewing re-cuffed Dalton's hands in the front. But before Ewing walked Dalton in, he turned to Dalton and said, "A reminder: Tom Dalton, you are in the care of this facility and have been on good behavior from the start. But you will remain handcuffed while speaking with these agents, and you will remain seated, or else."

Internally, Dalton rolled his eyes. Ewing's "or else" was such an empty little threat.

"I'll be right outside, Dalton," he added, and then he walked the prisoner in.

Standing in the room were two male agents, one Dalton recognized and one he didn't. Both turned his and Ewing's way the moment the door opened, and their eyes never left Dalton's face as Ewing got Dalton seated in the lone chair on the door-facing side of the small, metal table centered in the room.

Ewing faced them. "This is Prisoner Tom Dalton, as requested. You may freely question the prisoner on matters pertaining to your case, as indicated by word sent by his attorney this morning ahead of your meeting—"

Oh, really? Dalton's currency must've worked, if his lawyer knew the pickle he was in was a legal quagmire that would've sucked in both of them. He fought down a grin and a laugh.

"—and you are to follow house rules. Please stay on your side of the room at all times. Do not feed the prisoner. Do not give the prisoner anything to drink. Do not pass the prisoner anything—not even a pen or pencil to write something down for you. Dalton will remain handcuffed and seated at all times, as well, and I will be on the other side of this door, should you need anything."

The agent Dalton recognized nodded his head and gave Ewing a fleeting, professional smile. "Thank you."

Ewing returned the gesture, and then he was gone, leaving Dalton alone with his company.

Dalton decided to settle on that familiar face and let some of his own smile show. The links on his ugly, forced bracelets clinked as he leaned forward on the table and pointed up at the younger man. "McGee, right? One of Gibbs'."

McGee pursed his lips and cleared his throat. He pushed his jacket back, flashing his NCIS tin, and then gestured to himself and his partner. "Dalton, Special Agents Timothy McGee and Alden Parker. We have a lot to discuss."

Dalton shook his head at the formality. "Down to business, huh?" He glanced behind him at this new Parker fellow who took several steps back to lean against the far wall. He had no recollection of such a man in NCIS' history, so Dalton assumed he must've been some sort of outside hire or transfer. Ah, well, whatever. Dalton focused on McGee. "I'd say Gibbs has changed his tune, taking on not just young blood anymore—"

Parker didn't flinch at the prod.

"—but, then again, word gets around even in here. Especially about a man like Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

McGee hesitated. His pause was long enough for Dalton to continue.

"How's retirement treating the old dog?"

McGee grimaced at the choice of words. "We're not here to talk about Gibbs, Dalton."

Dalton dropped his shoulders in what he hoped was a relaxed, tired pose. "Hey, I don't get to see many people, McGee, least of all anyone from my NCIS days. And you and I are a bit alike, you know."

He could laugh, predicting the tiny furrow that formed between the guy's eyebrows. "How?"

Dalton shrugged. "I didn't hear only about Gibbs retiring. Your team fell apart. So did mine."

McGee bristled and clenched his jaw. "That's where you're wrong, Dalton. Our teams didn't fall apart. The one I'm a part of evolved. You literally destroyed yours."

…damn it. So, McGee had more of a backbone than Dalton imagined. Well, seeing as there was no use in being amiable towards him, Dalton dropped the pretense, as well as the half-assed smile. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest as best he could while handcuffed, which meant he managed primarily to tuck his hands under his armpits. "Fine. You want to talk business, talk business."

"We're here because you're trying to finish what you started, Dalton. Yesterday morning, Special Agent Jessica Knight's apartment was blown up."

Hearing her name brought the old investigation to mind. "My ire didn't lie with her, initially, you know. If Madden had just kept his nose out of my business with the vests—"

"We're not here to discuss Special Agent Madden."

"—but then he made it his business, and one thing led to another." Dalton frowned and tucked his chin into his chest. "I told her before: I didn't really want to take out the entire team."

Silence. Someone's foot ground on the floor in here. "Agents Madden, Ono, and Vargas are still dead, Dalton. If you never wanted to kill them, then why attack Knight?"

Dalton stared at McGee, gritted his teeth. "Because she's too stubborn for her own good. She refused to let up on the investigation that landed me in here." He knew the statement was inculpatory. NCIS agents never showed up unless they already knew at least half the story. Dalton could guess at which parts they were missing. "So—she survive?"

Parker stood eerily still in the back of the room, casual-like with his hands in his pockets, but that was the only notable thing about him. McGee's reactions were far more entertaining. The pale guy (not quite as alabaster as Ewing, but close enough) flushed with color at the thinly veiled disregard for Knight's status. He glared at Dalton, took a breath, and calmed, which smoothed out his round features. "Special Agent Knight is alive and safe, but her neighbors weren't so lucky. Three people were hurt in the blast, and two are critical. One of the critical is a five-year-old child, Dalton."

Again, he shrugged. They were collateral damage. But saying that aloud wouldn't help him right now. "Well, you've come to the right place."

"We need all the information you have about the person who took up the hit you put out on Knight."

And here Dalton couldn't help but offer a commiserating smile. "McGee. Come on. 'Person'?"

Another beat of silence. McGee's eyes widened, showing the whites all around his irises. "Dalton, exactly how many people did you hire?" He put down his notepad and pen, even, splaying his fingers on the cool tabletop.

Dalton withdrew his left hand from the warmth under his arm and scratched his shoulder by the seam of his shirtsleeve. "…hmm…"

"Dalton!"

He stopped scratching and held his hand out, fingers extended. "One for each member of my old team."

McGee paled (ah, now he looked like Ewing!). "Four?!"

"Hey, I led them, McGee. Count again." He waggled his fingers, thumb included.

The younger agent pulled a face. "Five. You hired…" He shook his head in disbelief and jotted it down. "We need names, numbers, addresses—everything. And now, Dalton."

But here was where Dalton figured his lawyer had caved too quickly. He pursed his lips and gave McGee the tiniest shake of his head. "I can help, but not yet. If I'm going to fork over information, I expect to get something for it. And I want a better cell than what I have."

This didn't impress McGee, who frowned but noted it regardless. On the other hand…

Dalton's demand made Parker twitch at last, which finally drew the prisoner's attention to the older agent.

Alden Parker, McGee had called him. …no, the name bounced around Dalton's head, but it didn't sound familiar to him, so he stopped trying to place the man in his memory. Besides, presently Parker was far more interesting, and Dalton sized him up. Parker dressed the part of a fed, with the suit and its pressed creases in all the right spots. He even wore a tie—a tie, for crying out loud! That put Dalton in mind of the relics running the different agencies nowadays. But that was where reading him stopped being easy.

Parker's hair was silver, and he had lines on his face, densest around his eyes. But Dalton couldn't determine his age. Older than Dalton? Younger, even by a few years? The multicolored scruff made it hard to say. And yet that wasn't what snagged the lion's share of his attention.

Parker's eyes… They were dark and seemed unfocused, but Parker's eyes unnerved Dalton when he realized Parker was, indeed, focused on him. Parker's dead stare burned holes in him, even as McGee resumed with the questions, of which Dalton only caught snippets thanks to this eerie concentration zeroed in on him.

Dalton swallowed a lump in his throat. It was funny, almost. After everything he'd seen in his REACT days, he didn't think there was much left that unnerved him.

"…ton. Dalton."

He actually was grateful for McGee to yank him back into the conversation. Dalton dropped his eyes to the table, ignoring the itchy feeling he had now, sitting here with them. "What?"

McGee huffed. "As I was saying, start from the beginning, with each name. And don't leave out any burners or any alternate…anything you can even guess at."

Dalton swallowed a second, tinier lump and nodded. "You'll—You'll need to start with Metro PD. There's a lieutenant there, an old friend I used to play cards with who's putting in his papers in a few years anyway…Jonathan Spence…"

McGee's pen flew over paper, and McGee flipped the pad as he filled the pages and Dalton handed him names and details. But their interaction wasn't the distraction Dalton hoped it would be, especially as this visit stretched out and certain points during the interview were punctuated by a dull cracking sound coming from the back of the room.

Dalton's eyes flew back to Parker's still form. The agent was still…mostly. Except he took to clicking his jaw every now and then, as information came to light. "It—It was Spence's job to scout her address, get her routine down as best he could…"

Click.

"…Miles Seba was Spence's partner for a time, and someone we both knew—but he owed me personally, for covering his ass during a drug bust gone wrong, since I happened to witness a certain transaction—"

Click.

"—and there's an ATF agent I met on an old case: Stevie Colfer. She was my best option for access to explosives—"

Click.

"—but not just Colfer!" Dalton rushed. He stared at McGee's pen, wishing he could tune out the sound now that he'd discerned it. "There was… There was someone in the local fire department, too. Rocco Ortega." He licked his lips. "…and her building supe? Spence built that connection, actually. But Terence St. George is no saint, and I'm sure he was hoping for additional favors of his own, in the future."

Click.

Dalton barely managed to bring to mind the actual details McGee requested after he gave up the names, so concerned was he with the menacing, foreboding motion aimed at him from barely eight feet away. Ewing stood on the other side of the door, yes, but Parker's simple action made Dalton wary that he might be attacked by this unknown factor. And, case aside, he had no clue why, especially because Parker refused to talk, to utter a single syllable or release a lone breath during this interview.

And yet there Special Agent Alden Parker stood, radiating a thinly veiled rage in the back of the room as Dalton counted off and detailed the numerous people he'd sent after Knight.

It felt like forever, sitting there, reviewing with McGee Spence's last known whereabouts, Seba's backup cell number, Colfer's preferred meeting place for taking odd jobs, Ortega's reasons for getting his hands dirty. They reviewed, McGee noted, the clock on the wall ticked the hours by—and all Dalton could think was how much he wanted to be back in his cell.

But there was something to be said for wish fulfillment. McGee clicked his pen then and stowed his notes in his inner breast pocket. "All right, I have everything," he announced, pushing his chair back to stand.

Relief flooded Dalton, enough to embolden him to remind McGee of his demand. "That's because I gave you everything, McGee. I helped. Wh-What about that cell move I want?"

At that second, Parker finally took a step toward the table, as if he'd be the one to answer.

But Dalton's hackles went up, and he shrank back in his chair, the metal feet screeching as he hastily put any extra distance between him and this man with obvious bloodlust.

McGee and Parker both made nothing of Dalton's reaction. "I'll…talk to the federal prosecutor," McGee said at last. He tipped his head at Dalton in acknowledgment—the closest thing a traitor got to thanks, Dalton supposed—and followed Parker out of the visiting room.

For the third time that late afternoon, Tom Dalton swallowed an unwelcome lump in his throat, still trying to make sense of how that interview had gone. Ewing came in to find him a bit paralyzed and reluctant to leave the chair, but Dalton was compliant by the second attempt to heave him up.

It wasn't until Dalton was halfway back to his cell that he realized the agents had left and McGee had made no verbal promise and also not left behind anything in writing regarding Dalton's side of the exchange.

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, grinding his teeth and wishing he'd spent his cigarettes more wisely. "…fuck!"

McGee double-checked that his gun and holster sat correctly on his belt as he and Parker exited the prison after their interview with Dalton. Parker didn't do the same, walking in confident, evenly paced strides ahead of him. McGee followed his boss' silhouette with his eyes and squinted. Parker seemed oddly stiff after what had been a successful venture out here.

Frankly, though, McGee knew that wasn't the first odd thing about Parker today. No, the first thing had been Parker's strange request a couple hours ago, when they'd first arrived. "You'll do all the talking once we get in there," Parker had told him.

McGee had cocked his head at him and pulled a bemused smile.

But Parker had gotten ahead of any questions or objections, saying, "I believe in you, McGee."

Which…was a nice vote of confidence, sure, but McGee was smart enough to know by now when there was something else behind a person's request. And McGee knew, too, that it wasn't only today but yesterday, as well.

Something was off about both Knight and Parker since the explosion at her apartment yesterday morning. From Knight and Parker butting heads a bit at the scene to later talking quietly amongst themselves on and off at the office…

Still, McGee had tabled his curiosities and followed through with Parker's request this afternoon. After all, the case—and Knight's safety—was their top priority. And McGee was glad they weren't walking away from Dalton empty-handed. He said as much while he and Parker traipsed back to the car, but he also tried to lift Parker's mood at the same time. McGee grinned slyly, pointing out, "With any luck, no prosecutor's going to rise to the bait. If anything, all Dalton's done is helped to add years to his time."

Parker nodded rather absentmindedly. He slowed his steps once they were by the car, and he stood beside the passenger door, in no rush to get in.

McGee squinted at him again, from across the roof.

Of the past thirty-six hours, what Parker did next had to be the strangest thing McGee witnessed yet. The older man released a low, slow breath through his nose and slipped the tie from his neck, winding the neckwear around both of his hands, and he pulled. He pulled and pulled, hard enough to blanch his knuckles and fists, hard enough to stretch the fabric taut and thin and, holy shit, was he actually tearing his necktie in two—

McGee nervously laughed. "H-Hey, uh, Parker? What… What're you doing…there?"

The interruption appeared to snap Parker out of his momentary trance. He glanced at McGee and pocketed the trashed tie. "Venting. And I really didn't want to take it out on your car, McGee."

He hadn't expected an honest answer! McGee gawped at Parker, hesitating to get in the car with him.

But whatever version of Parker had been on display seconds ago was buried deep elsewhere, because normal Parker piped up, "McGee, come on. We're still on the clock, and we've got to track Dalton's people down, otherwise Jess is going to remain a target."

Reality brought him to his senses, and McGee slid in behind the wheel. He turned the engine over and got them on the road back to NCIS, but a part of his mind was still back in that prison parking lot.

The ride back was a quiet one. McGee kept glancing at Parker, not looking for an opportunity to talk, really, but just to observe. And Parker either didn't mind or wasn't aware of the scrutiny—the latter, McGee supposed, since Parker rested an elbow inside the passenger door, cupped his cheek in his palm, and stared out the window for the entire ride, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

McGee wondered about how dark those thoughts were, and why. Parker claimed he'd vented, and yet he still seemed as taut as his damaged tie.

And, to think, McGee thought he and Torres had enough to worry about, with Knight being Dalton's target.

Daylight was disappearing on them by the time they arrived back at the Navy Yard. McGee tried not to think about how Parker hadn't spoken an extra peep during the ride back—not unlike his stony silence during the interview with Dalton—and he pushed the memory of the shredded tie down as he and Parker took the elevator upstairs at NCIS. And the tie? Really, what was that? Just a footnote, if McGee actually thought about it.

Knight's head popped up from her desk like a meerkat's when they exited the elevator. "Hey! How'd it go?" she asked.

McGee went to exchange a glance with Parker, but Parker's tired expression was reserved for Knight as they entered the bullpen. McGee instead nodded at Torres and at Ronnie and Sawyer, whose shift as part of Knight's protective detail would've started just a few minutes ago. "Well, actually, I'd say it was a major success."

Torres raised his eyebrows. "You're kidding. Vance's national security threat worked on the jerk's lawyer?"

He nodded. "Yeah, lawyer wasn't there. Dalton was ours so long as we stuck to the details of this case only."

Ronnie crossed her arms in front of her chest and shared an annoyed look with Torres. "Well, damn. If we'd known it was gonna be that easy…"

Parker leaned on the front of Knight's desk and pulled his eyes away from her to settle the others with a frown. "The director didn't make a threat," he corrected. "NCIS still had to go through legal channels, which took a ridiculous amount of time considering how quickly we figured the likelihood it was Dalton yesterday." He practically spat the word, and Knight mustered a sympathetic smile for him and patted his nearer arm.

"Hate to state the obvious, but…" Sawyer rolled on the balls of his feet and jerked his chin at their little gathering. "What's next?"

McGee pulled his memo pad out and, since Parker didn't object, gave the sitrep. It wasn't just the names Dalton had given them, either, but also a list of other tasks—notes about which fellow inmates Dalton had paid off in some form to pass along messages, a reminder to check Seba's accounts under a recurring misspelling of his surname as "Seiba," even McGee's passing idea that perhaps Dalton's lawyer might've been instrumental in this and required checking. …and, the more he recounted, the larger McGee's worries loomed.

They'd had big cases before, but this one—as quickly as they needed to get to the bottom of things—finally might be too big for just the four of them to handle.

Ronnie picked up on that, dropping her arms to her sides and offering McGee a tentative smile. "McGee. We can help with this, too." Her curls bounced when she jerked her head at Sawyer, who shrugged noncommittally. "We've got Knight's back during watch, of course, but we can help you sift through this info when our shift's over."

McGee wanted to jump on the offer. But he, Torres, and Parker had been spending as much time at NCIS with Knight and her protective details as possible, because they'd all suspected Dalton might still have connections worth using, maybe even still at NCIS.

That meant that Ronnie and Sawyer, and Finley and Dawkins, weren't off the hook, even though the MCRT felt they knew them well enough.

So McGee deferred to Parker.

Parker straightened up but didn't take long to assess the offer. "We'd appreciate that," he said a beat later, ignoring McGee's look of surprise.

When McGee glanced over his shoulder at Torres, he saw his own expression mirrored on his friend's tanned face.

Ronnie grinned, though, none the wiser. "Great! I'll actually feel useful to you—not that looking out for you isn't important," she directed at Knight.

Knight smiled and tipped her head. "Nah, I get it. I hate waiting around, too, Ronnie."

While McGee dropped his things at his desk to settle back in, Parker dragged his feet, looking to leave the bullpen again. The older man ran a hand over the back of his head as he glanced upstairs. "I guess I'll go update the director, in the meantime."

"I'll join you," Knight said, eagerly pushing out of her chair. For someone who'd nearly been blown up the other morning, she was awfully chipper at the moment.

Parker hesitated, but the tension in his body language ebbed from him the longer Knight worked that soft smile on him. He nodded, and they fell into step together as they headed for the director's office, with Ronnie and Sawyer shadowing Knight at a polite distance.

McGee stood by his desk, watching them until they faded from sight, and his curiosities from before returned in the office's quiet.

Knight and Parker… Parker and Knight.

His curiosities bubbled up, forming into something more solid. There was, of course, wonder over how much the past thirty-six (really, pulling up on forty now) hours had affected the team as a whole… And yet McGee wondered just how close Knight and Parker were.

Butting heads at the scene.

Talking closely, just the two of them, at the office.

And not just earlier, when leaving the prison—there'd been a few other times McGee must've misheard Parker, calling her "Jess" instead of "Knight," during this case.

But it wasn't just how they were acting around each other, McGee realized as it hit him, finally, why Parker's behavior in the prison parking lot had caught him by surprise. It wasn't only that McGee had been scared of that side of the man.

McGee knew he'd seen that kind of reaction before, in others.

Sure, he'd never witnessed anyone murder a necktie before, but—that rage? That was a special kind of rage, and McGee had seen it several times before, when certain people—loved ones—were in danger.

Tony, with Ziva.

Ziva, with Tony.

Bishop, with Torres.

Torres, with Bishop.

At that thought, McGee's eyes wandered over to his friend, and Torres lifted his head, quirking an eyebrow at his audience, as if asking, Who, me?

…ah, right. Torres' clueless expression helped snap McGee out of it, and McGee finally planted himself in his desk chair, determined to pry himself from this silly train of thought. And it was silly, even as his mind wandered back to when Parker and Knight had been trapped months and months ago in the parking garage explosion and he ventured that perhaps things had evolved for the two since then…

But no. No! This was Parker and Knight, after all, and McGee was overthinking about these two. Clearly he was just seeing things, hearing things that weren't there….

OMG I don't think I've ever turned an outline into a draft so fast. XD SO! As with many of my Parknights, I wrote this before the s19 finale, so who tf knows how that changes hcs, but who cares?! Esp bc I love the "20 Winks" universe too much to change course with it much, I think (I'll hafta see how much I like the canon as we head into s20, *lol*). ANYWAY. This is the missing moment I referred to in "What's Yours Is Mine, What's Mine Is Yours," bc, the more I thought about it, the more I at least wanted to show an enraged Parker reining in his temper but also show how others take in Parker and Knight without knowing about Parknight; this is, indeed, one of my fav storytelling techniques, the ship-thru-others'-eyes, which I've employed before in NCIS fic (see "Sartorially Suited"), have done once for HQ!!, and enjoy on and off for HariPo, bc it's so much fun! It was also kinda fun scaring the shit out of Dalton, who thought he had the upper hand for a hot minute, and also torturing Parker a leetle bc Dalton was practically boasting about getting revenge on Knight bc sour grapes. X'D Poor bby deffo needed Knight's smile and frankly a hug and a smooch when he and McGee returned to the office, but a protective detail makes that difficult! Also, also! The tie murder (*LOL*) felt appropriate, considering the ways Parker has expressed his rage before canonically, but the more I thought about it, the more it felt right to have McGee draw the comparison in this manner to Tiva and to Ellick. But, ofc, Timothy McGee laughs things off, bc nooo, he can't possibly be seeing Parknight with his own two eyes! Anywho. Also, Ronnie & Sawyer cameo bc yay. c: (I rly do adore the minor charries across my fandoms~) -w- Lastly: Do take the prison/lawyer stuff w/a grain of salt, even if Vance did claim national security, bc yeah no. :O So you know the drill, if you read my stuff! Check out the others in the "20 Winks" universe if you started with this one first, go read some other Parknights bc I have what feels like a million of them now XD, enjoy some art by me (on my pillowfort) as well as other content (on the parknights tumblr), feel free to request (fic or art!), and always feel welcome to come chat! Idk where this universe will go (if anywhere) next, but we'll see! I'm just so happy to write 3 Parknights in a week, *lol* (as of writing, this, "What's Yours," and "Late-Night Promises" were all written within just a couple days of each other, and another two stories were edited…luckily before I started feeling like crap again bc thanks, allergies). ;P

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

#ncis #parknight #alden parker #jessica knight #tom dalton #timothy mcgee #fanfic #mew writes too much #nick torres #ronnie tyler #dale sawyer #this is one of my fav types of story to write c:#parknight: 20 winks universe

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boyfhee · 2 years

Text

⌕ MASTERLIST

note : plagiarism is prohibited. please do not repost / translate my works and upload them on other platforms. if you find someone doing the same, notify me immediately.

what i write : sfw, occasionally suggestive ; majorly hyung line works

what i don't write : nsfw, pregnancy, themes glorifying toxic relationships and sensitive topics, parental ?? hcs ?? babysitting is fine aye guess

about requests : i don't take requests unless specified, but you can send in a suggestion / idea you have and i might write it

📌 personal favs | c = completed

OT7 / SUBUNITS ⸻

⋆ : when they catch you staring / hyung line, hcs

⋆ : dating an idol s/o / ot7, hcs

⋆ : fake bf / ot7, texts

⋆ : calling them dude or bro / ot7, texts

⋆ : things they do in a relationship / ot7, hcs 📌

⋆ : asking for other member's pc / ot7, texts

⋆ : types of kisses / ot7, hcs 📌

LHS ⸻

10:10 AM : heeseung thinks you should be more than friends / angst

boyfriend texts : heeseung as your bf / texts, fluff

way back home : you & heeseung are just one selca apart / one two three 📌

nervous : something about heeseung makes you nervous / 1.2k, suggestive

popsicles : heeseung knows how to warm you up / 1.2k, fluff

if lovesick was a person : it'd be heeseung / 1.4k, fluff 📌

always : jealousy looks good on you / 0.6k, fluff 📌

the revenge pact : discount on rent for being his fake gf / smau, c

to you, with love : things he couldn't say / 2.1k, angst 📌

belladonna : love between sacrifices and selfishness / 5k, thriller 📌

how to get back with your ex : five do's and dont's / 26.2k, angst 📌

fair and square : to love your enemy is a bet in disguise / 20.2k, fluff 📌

boyfriend headcanons : heeseung as your bf / hcs, fluff

amber and alcohol : heeseung is tipsy, on love and on alcohol / 1k, fluff

thinking again : heeseung is drunk, again / 1.3k

PJS ⸻

one way or another : it's hard to hide a relationship / oneshot smau, fluff

distant memory : jay seems like a stranger / 1k, angst 📌

closest friend & more : jay is in love with you, but he's just a friend / 0.8k, fluff

kisses & friends : do friends ask each other to kiss them? / 0.7k, fluff 📌

blur : jay is your best friend, the line starts to blur / smau oneshot

number neighbour : jay texts his number neighbour not knowing it's his ex / smau

PSH ⸻

the fall : falling for sunghoon was an enormous mistake / 0.8k, angst

promise : sunghoon can't promise you the whole world / 0.7k, fluff 📌

unlikelihood : the unlikelihood of falling for sunghoon / 22.1k, written series, c 📌

reasons to date : why you should date sunghoon / 2.8k, fluff

now we date : you accidentally call sunghoon a babygirl on the main / smau

irresistible : sunghoon is kissable / 0.5k, fluff 📌

me or the ps5 : sunghoon and the nnn saga / smau oneshot

spoiled rotten : sunghoon simply gets what he wants / fluff, 1.0k 📌

SJY ⸻

boyfriend texts : jake as your boyfriend / texts 📌

once more : sim jaeyun is anything but a good basketball player / 0.8k. fluff

everyone but you : jake is leaving / 0.5k, angst

12 : 04 PM : you shouldn't be in jake's classroom / 0.9k, fluff

chances at romance : jake is your boyfriend, although fake / 1.2k, fluff

boyfriend headcanons : jake as your boyfriend / hcs, fluff

married under twenty-five : the story of you and jake as you meet, fall in love, and lose each other / 5.3k, angst, 📌

KSN ⸻

insouciance : four times you choose sunoo, one time you don't / 5k, angst 📌

boyfriend texts : sunoo as your boyfriend / texts, fluff

YJW ⸻

the world stage : jungwon loves you in secrecy and silence / 0.8, angst 📌

NRK ⸻

boyfriend texts : riki as your boyfriend / texts

boyfriend headcanons : riki as your boyfriend / hcs

early morning confessions : riki loves to watch you sleep / 0.8k, fluff 📌

unkiss : to reverse a kiss is to unkiss / 0.9k. fluff 📌

red strings of rewind : you and riki meet again and again / 6.75k, thriller

take two : riki makes you doubt your own relationship / smau, angst, c 📌

#—approved.#enhypen masterlist

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Begin Again (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Inspo: Begin Again by Adam Melchor

Summary: Dating apps never pair you with the right people. Until you come across the profile of a handsome, pancake loving FBI agent named Marcus.

W/C: 4.8k

Warnings: lots of talk of food, language, late night deep conversations, some sadness at the end but nothing intense? reader has a pet cat, is that worth a warning? idk

A/N: HI GUYS this is my first full length Marcus Pike fic! I really hope you like it!! thank you so much to @theteddylupinexperience and @sanchosammy for being my best editors and proofreaders and idea givers!!!

note: PLS listen to the song before/after/while reading! it’s one of my favs and it really goes along with the story

Over the course of your adult years, you’ve become convinced that dating apps are complete and utter bullshit. The algorithms never work right, never pair you or any of your friends with anyone worth seeing in person. Maybe that’s just the problem; maybe it’s not the apps but the people. Whatever the answer is, whatever reason you’ve never found success in the endless swiping, you’re through with it.

That was before last week. The rainy Tuesday night left you in your apartment, alone, to succumb to the cold spring dreariness. Over a cup of hot tea, you’d downloaded the app again. Might as well try, right? You have nothing to lose. If worst comes to worst, catfishing an annoying guy is always a blast. The good news is that this app requires you as the woman to make the first move. That’s kind of a downside- you never know how to start conversations- but at least you can’t get unsolicited dick pics right off the bats. Life is full of tradeoffs, you suppose.

You begin again. The app becomes your favorite pastime. Bored at work or home? Dating app it is. Left. Left. Left. Boring man after boring man. One labeled himself super-straight: absolutely fucking not. One holding a fish: nope. A man who describes himself as a gym rat: not your type. It’s a boring way to spend your lunch break, you’re aware, but the entertainment value is fun if nothing else. There are a lot of strange men out there.

After a few days, your luck seems to turn around as the photo of a man with brown hair and warm brown eyes pops up on your screen. He has a scruffy beard and wavy hair, and the way his smile tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart flutter. He’s really cute, you have to admit. You read the bio next.

Marcus, 35

❗️ Washington, D.C.

Got forced into making this, but optimistic. Lover of art, dogs, and time to relax. Always down for breakfast for dinner and cuddling. Looking for someone with a sense of independence, love of travel, and a sleep schedule equally fucked up as mine. Must love pancakes.

Must love pancakes. That’s absolutely adorable. You immediately think of your cat, named Pancake, and you laugh and swipe right, hoping the man already thought the same of you. Your eyes widen with excitement and you almost laugh out loud from your giddy state when you see the little logo indicating it’s a match.

The first message you send him has to be perfect. You ponder your options for a minute, frowning and furrowing your brow as you think. You don’t want to come on too strong; you’re not trying to sound like you want a hookup. A simple one-word greeting wouldn’t be enough.

You could comment on something from his bio, you realize as you read it again and again. Maybe ask him about his dog? No, that’s too awkward. You want it to be about him, something that can draw him in. Talk about traveling? No, you don’t want to sound like you’re bragging about the places you’ve gone in your life.

Pancakes. Pancakes are good. You love pancakes. You think for a second more, debating what to say, before inspiration strikes and you send off the message before you can stop yourself.

Marcus Pike has essentially felt the same as you. He’s a somewhat charming man. He’s had his fair share of relationships, but they never quite work out. His ex-wife, now long gone and blocked from his phone, was an absolute failure of a relationship. He’d gotten close to what felt like true love with Teresa, another FBI agent, but she flaked at the last second.

Maybe the constant here was that he met them in person. When Marcus falls, he falls hard and fast, down an endless spiral of emotions with no escape. Maybe if he met someone online, it would be different. His best friends had all encouraged it, and on a night out not long after Teresa left him, Pike set up his own profile. He liked that the app didn’t require him to make the first move. It’s refreshing.

Marcus had seen your profile hours ago, on a mindless phone break from his work. He’d swiped right too, stunned by your smile and the lovelines you radiated even through the phone. He crossed his fingers for a good part of the day, hoping you’d swipe right on him too.

His day is busy, leaving him no time to fiddle with his phone and distract himself. He eats in the cafeteria, checking up on his phone. After lunch, he’s walking back to his office when his heart flutters as he sees the dating app indicates he’s had a match. He looks at it and swallows hard before stopping, moving to the side of the hallway to allow others to pass. He’s breathing hard, and his heart speeds up when he sees that you are the one that matched with him.

He knows how this app works. He has to wait now, to let you make the first move. He can’t even write a message until you send one. So he pockets his phone again and continues on his walk.

He’s determined on his walk, rushing back to his desk so he can sit and be thoroughly enthralled in waiting for or receiving your response. His phone buzzes several times with notifications, one of which he prays is you. When he finally sits, he opens the app ceremoniously and has to hold back a genuine laugh when he sees your first message.

Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus shoots back a text nearly immediately. Sorry, what?

Your bio. “Must love pancakes”. Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus is absolutely beaming as he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs. Blueberry. Always. I hope that’s the right answer :)

Unfortunately, it’s not, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide

You called him cute. It makes Marcus’s heart flutter. Come on. There’s nothing like the warm blueberry popping in your mouth.

There is. It’s when the chocolate chips are all melty and creamy.

God, Marcus is already painfully into you. You know what… at least you love pancakes. I’ll let it slide. You got a favorite place?

Anywhere I can get ‘em. You seem like quite the connoisseur, do you have one place in mind?

Jane slams down a stack of files on Marcus’s desk. “Paperwork overflow, Pike. Can you get these done tonight?”

Marcus is the fastest in the office with paperwork, which often leads to him being the one that flies through the files in the place of the people who actually filed it. He nods. What else is there to do? “Sure.”

Jane claps him on the shoulder and wanders off. Marcus watches him in slight annoyance. The best place in D.C. is definitely Sandy’s. Hey I gotta go, text ya later?

I’d love that :)

It didn’t take long for your texting to move from the dating app to actual texting. It happened within the same day, in fact.

Marcus messaged you some hours after the initial conversation. Your phone buzzed while you were doing yoga in your apartment, your cat curled into a ball beneath your stomach as you held a downward dog. You nearly collapsed on top of Pancake as you fumbled to sit cross-legged on the end of your yoga mat.

The message from Marcus is bright on the top of your screen. Hi. Sorry that took so long. Work stuff.

Smiling, you take a swig from your water bottle and lean back against your couch. Not a problem. Understandable. What do you do for a living? It’s a loaded question in D.C.; they could range anywhere from politicians to their rich sons to artists and athletes.

I work for the FBI, actually.

Your eyes light up in excitement. That’s the coolest shit I’ve heard. What do you do? Are you an agent?

The man’s responses don’t take long at all. He must be waiting in the chat to respond. The idea makes your heart flutter. Yep, I’m an agent. I work in international art crimes.

You certainly didn’t expect that for an answer. Wow, okay, that’s even cooler than I thought. I was about to call you Agent Pancake but I think my girl would be disheartened...

Snapping a photo of the way Pancake is nuzzling into your side, meowing for snuggles, you have to laugh as you send the photo his way. Funny you love pancakes so much. This little muppet is named Pancake.

Marcus responds with a barrage of heart-eyes emojis, which makes you laugh aloud and scoop Pancake into your lap, stroking her strawberry-blonde fluff. She’s an absolute angel. Like her mother, I’m presuming.

Your cheeks flood with warmth and you can feel the tips of your ears turning hot too. You’ve never even met me, Agent…? You trail off the text, asking for his last name.

Pike.

Agent Marcus Pike. What a nice sounding name. It sounds official and strong and you really like it. Cute last name. Might steal it from ya someday ;)

You don’t normally flirt this shamelessly, but he’s so goddamn cute and funny. You cross your fingers behind your back that this isn’t just a facade, that this is Marcus himself texting like he would to anyone else. You got a phone number?

As you laugh, Pancake paws at your chest to grab your attention, nails nearly digging into the stretchy fabric of your yoga tank top. “Watch it,” you scold her softly and remove her paw from your chest, picking her up and giving her a kiss on the head. Sure do. You want it?

Yes please.

You send your number his way and moments later, your phone pings with a text from an unlabeled number.

Maybe: Pike: hey, it’s Pike :)

You: hey… dammit, I really want to call you Agent Pancakes, but I think my fluffy little heathen would be offended. I don’t know what to save you in my phone as...

Agent Pancakes: Save me as whatever, I suppose. Not my problem, right?

The texts became more frequent. Over the course of three weeks, you’d stay up late talking like teenagers, knowing you need to go to bed but unable to bring yourself to do it.

You learned that his middle name was Mauricio, that his mother wanted him to have at least something a little more Latino in his name. You told him the story of how you’d adopted Pancake as a kitten from a shelter and she woke you up one morning with her claws entwined in a snarl of your hair. He told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancée, Teresa, and you responded that he deserved something better than that. You can already tell that he’s a good man.

At the end of three weeks, you shot Marcus a text. Things seemed to be going pretty well.

You: Hey, you want to do a video call sometime soon?

Agent Pancakes: I’d love that! I’m free tonight if you are.

You: Always free. Shouldn’t you know that?? Doesn’t the FBI spy on us through our phones and whatever?

Agent Pancakes: well, I do work in art crimes. Even if we did, it would be a totally different thing

You: Good.

An hour later, you fidget with your hands as you sit on your couch, the laptop propped up across from you and ringing for a video chat. Marcus’s profile picture bobs on the screen as you wait for him to pick up.

Marcus’s face and apartment fills your screen, and you automatically grin. “Hi,” you giggle and wave, absolutely enraptured by how cute his real smile is, not the forced one in the photos.

“Hey. Nice to kind of-finally meet you,” he tells you and waves back. The wall of his apartment is nothing exciting, but his facial expressions already have you falling. Those big brown eyes compliment natural but ridiculously pink lips, and his brown hair is neatly done. It looks like he’s wearing a tie and a dress shirt; probably his work gear, you suppose.

“You too!” You tell him, unable to stop smiling. “You shaved.”

Marcus’s heart jumps out of his chest when he sees you ringing him. He barely has time to flop on the couch and turn it on, propping up the camera across from him.

God, you’re so gorgeous. Your giggle is infectious, making Marcus laugh softly at god knows what. Your grin is equally as contagious, making him smile back. He rubs his jaw in response. “Yeah, yeah. I tend to keep it clean there. Stubble takes too much maintenance, and I have this little patch where it never quite grows,” he tells you as he juts his chin to the camera, touching the spot where his beard can’t grow.

“I like it either way,” you assure him, shrugging a little. “How was your day, Agent Pancakes?” Your voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, even with the granulated audio over this shitty app. Agent Pancakes makes his heart flutter. “No, not you!” You groan as Pancake climbs onto your lap. “Hi. Your twin wants to say hi.”

Marcus’s smile widens. “Oh my god, hello cutie pie,” he chuckles, launching into baby talk. “What a pretty girl. You make a good Pancake.”

You smile and rub her fur, grinning. “She’s my baby,” you chuckle and set her aside. “Yeah. I’m busy. Leave me alone.” Pancake meows in protest. “Shut up, I’m on a date,” you whine.

Marcus’s ears perk up. “This is a date?”

Your eyes widen as you turn back to him. “I… yeah?” You ask, wincing a little.

He grins back at you. “I like it. And I’m really in love with the idea of seeing your face when you talk.”

“I like your voice,” you flirt back, but you mean it. “It’s so pretty. Do you sing?” You ask mindlessly, studying the way his brow furrows and his eyes convey exactly what he’s thinking.

He chuckles softly. “I used to. I haven’t in a long long time.”

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime.”

When he shakes his head, his neatly gelled hair tries to break free. A strand does, falling in his face. “You don’t wanna hear it, I promise.” He removes his tie, and you can’t help but watch the movement. It’s incredibly sexy.

A mischievous smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. “No, I really do, I really think I do.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Only if you try the pancakes at Sandy’s sometime. I promise you, they’re the best pancakes in the District. I’ve never had the chocolate chip pancakes, but if they’re anywhere near as good as the blueberry, they’re fantastic. And they’re open 24 hours. I go there a lot for late night case work.”

You smile at that, getting cozy on your couch and hugging your blanket. “That does sound nice. I love a good all day breakfast,” you say with raised eyebrows, the teasing in your voice. “Okay, human Pancakes. How was your day?” You ask him again, intent on hearing his answer. Not only is his job fascinating, but he’s adorable when he explains things.

Marcus frowns, and that makes you instinctively frown too. “Well, it’s been good. We’re tracking a huge smuggling ring right now, but since we’ve pinpointed a stock house for them, I might have to travel for a while.”

You frown. You’d been hoping you could have a real date soon, at least. “How long is a while?” You ask him curiously, sipping from your water bottle that sits next to you.

“Couple weeks. No less than a month, probably. I’d… well, I might have to go undercover, which means we couldn’t talk for a while.” His eyes are apologetic, showing that he hates this news as much as you do. “And… I’d leave maybe tomorrow or the day after.”

Your heart sinks. “So soon,” you say with a sad smile, a desperate and lonely chuckle. “Well, if you want to come home to me, I’ll be here.”

Marcus’s smile perks up just slightly. “You would be the best thing in the world to come home to. And I’ll have the scruff back by then.”

“Yes!” You exclaim and laugh, pumping a fist in the air. “I think you’re really cute anyway, but I really love the scruff,” you shrug shyly.

“Maybe I’ll grow it out just for you.”

The adrenaline from his first technical-date with you prevents Marcus from sleeping. The call lasted hours, the two of you covering almost everything important in your lives. You talked about your favorite television programs and politics, your parents and your favorite pizza toppings. Talking with him was like nothing you’d ever experience, a connection you’d never thought a dating app could offer.

After several hours, during a lull in the conversation, Marcus suggested the two of you log off. It was around 11 P.M. now, and, even though Marcus has a sleep schedule like a raccoon, he figured you should sleep. He blew you a kiss through the camera, which you pretended to hold to your chest and grin at him.

But now it’s an hour later, just past midnight, and Marcus is antsy. He doesn’t sleep much anyway, but your face is running through his mind like it owns the place, and at this point, maybe you do. Marcus sits up in bed and sighs. He knows the proper remedy for this: Sandy’s. Throwing on a rare pair of jeans and a leather jacket over the white v-neck he wears, he slips on his shoes and makes his way to the tiny, 24-hour diner.

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins too. You text any of your friends that will listen, rambling about how beautiful Marcus’s face is and how wonderful it was to finally hear his voice. You pace your apartment, petting Pancake as you pass her perch on the arm of your couch. You try to do a little yoga to calm down but you can’t stop smiling. Marcus occupies too much room in your brain to try to think about anything else.

When it’s just after midnight, hunger strikes. You realize you never ate dinner, too preoccupied with talking to the handsome man to even consider microwaving something from your fridge. Talking with Marcus has instilled you with a love for pancakes, and you think to yourself that maybe Sandy’s would be worth a shot. It’s open late.

So you toss on a jacket and pick up your purse, slinging it over your shoulder and leaving your apartment. You toss the book you’ve been reading into your bag, planning to read it while you sit and eat. Pancake gives a sleepy meow of protest but you just smile and lock the door behind you.

The diner is just as small as Marcus described it to you: just a short line of booths along the windows and a smattering of tables in the middle. There’s a colorful, warm-toned tile floor that juxtaposes the warm green of the walls and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting through the air. Quiet classic swing music filling the atmosphere. You can see why he likes it: it automatically makes you smile.

You sit in one of the booths, facing away from the door, and the kind waitress takes your order: chocolate chip pancakes and an English breakfast tea. The air conditioning is blasting, making you chilly. You tighten your jacket around yourself and sip the tea when it arrives, adding cream and sugar.

Cracking open the book, you cross your legs and lose yourself in the book. The restaurant has a calming aura, and you can feel the tea warming you from the inside. It’s fitting that Marcus loves this place, you think to yourself.

When the pancakes come not long after, you take a bite and almost groan in happiness. It’s absolutely delicious: Marcus was most definitely right. Disappointingly, you have to go to the bathroom about three bites in.

Even the bathrooms are cute, you discover. When you return, someone else sits a booth away, another lone diner at this godforsaken hour of night, facing the door. You can see the back of what appears to be a man’s head, neatly trimmed brown hair and a brown leather jacket over their neck and shoulders. Sitting back down, your back to the other customer’s, you return to your book and continue to eat your chocolate chip pancakes.

The customer and waitress are talking, but you don’t pay much attention, too enraptured by your book. It’s quiet again after the man puts in his order, and you enjoy the soft jazz music that makes you tap your foot in time against the tile.

There’s a buzzing and the melodic sound of a phone’s ringtone; one of the defaults that a phone provides. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the man pick up. “Agent Pike.”

That can’t be your Agent Pike, can it? You turn and listen and realize it’s definitely him, from his voice and the way he holds himself and the stack of- of course, blueberry pancakes and a hot coffee set in front of him.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Let me write that down.” Marcus types something into his phone. “See you then. At the office? Good. Alright, see you.” He hangs up.

Standing, you tuck your book back in your purse and put the bag over your shoulder. With one hand, you grab your plate of pancakes, and the other grabs your tea. You set them down across from him and slide into the booth, grinning. “Huh. Agent Pancakes, here, in the middle of the night. How unusual.”

Marcus’s tired face lights up in excitement. “What?” He laughs, his eyes scanning your face. “Why are you here?”

You shrug and take a bite of his pancakes, sighing. “Had to see if they were worth the hype. I couldn’t sleep, you got me so excited.” The blueberry pancakes are absolutely fantastic, just as good if not better than the chocolate chip ones on your plate. “Damn, you were right.”

“Hey,” he laughs and pulls his plate closer to his chest. “Don’t touch my pancakes.”

You make pleading pouty eyes, frowning a little. “Can’t we share?” You tease. It already feels like you’ve known him for years, even though this is your first time seeing him in person.

Marcus sighs. “I suppose,” he says and rolls his eyes in sarcasm, pushing his plate back out so you can access it.

Marcus is beyond stunned, absolutely enraptured in how beautiful you are in person. If he thought he fell on that video call earlier, he’s now reached the very bottom of that cliff, the impact of your everything stealing the air from his lungs. God, he wants nothing more than to kiss you right now, on those lips coated in blueberry juice and maple syrup.

The two of you spend quite some time so there, just talking and continuing the conversation where it left off before. The waitress refills Marcus’s coffee twice and your tea once. “So who called you when you were sitting alone?” You ask him as you bring the white porcelain mug to your lips, sipping at the creamy tea.

He sighs. “Guy I work with, his name’s Patrick. He’s a douchebag, I can’t lie,” he says with a chuckle, and his heart flutters at the way you give a soft laugh back. “Just telling me the details. I leave in about 6 hours. I’ll be in Singapore for a couple of weeks.”

“Singapore?” You exclaim, eyes wide as your fork clanks against your plate. “You better be able to contact me.”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m going undercover. I can’t.” He sighs, and he dares to reach out and touch you, to reassure you that he’s there and himself that you’re real, that you’re right there. “Will you wait for me?”

Your heart melts, from an already slush-covered river to a rushing rapids. “Of course, Marcus.” It makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve called him lots of nicknames, but never his real name. Something is painfully intimate about it. “I like you a lot; why wouldn’t I?” You ask, shrugging as if it’s the simplest thing. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

When you finish your meals, Marcus picks up both tabs, despite your protesting. “Can I walk you to your place?” He asks as you both stand and adjust your jackets.

You nod and take his hand. The lights of the city are seemingly extra dim tonight, leaving the street lights to illuminate your beautiful face as the two of you stroll along. You have all the time in the world, don’t you? It’s 1:30 in the morning. You’re both already evading sleep desperately. A little more time together can’t hurt.

His hand never leaves yours, his fingers lacing through your knuckles. You chat quietly, as if you could wake the sleeping city from the peaceful blue drone of a weeknight morning into its daily splendor of horns and hordes of speedy pedestrians.

Marcus bumps your shoulder with his, making you stumble a little to the side and laugh as you look up at his gorgeous face. His face reflects the love you’re both feeling, almost giving the city around you a pink glaze of warmth from the rose-colored glasses you must have placed over his eyes.

The walk draws to an end, as you stand at the entrance to your apartment building. Marcus’s body looks so soft and inviting, and you dare to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him to your chest. “I don’t want you to go, Agent Pancakes,” you murmur into the soft skin of his neck, which is starting to get a shadow of stubble.

Marcus kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t move either, prolonging this time you have together before he can’t see you. “I don’t want to go. I’ve never wanted to stay here more than I do now, but I have to.” His arms wrap around your waist, strong and safe.

Lifting your head, you look up at him, your noses practically touching from the proximity you share. The world feels like a bubble around you two, like some impenetrable one-way material that makes it so if Marcus leaves now, he can never come back. “Well, it’s gonna be a long time, a month or two,” you say with a sad smile. “We’ll have to begin again.”

Marcus shakes his head, his brown eyes almost welling with tears. “There’s no one else I’d want to begin again with.” With that, he looks in your eyes, the question hanging there. Wait for me?

Always, you respond silently by pressing your lips to his, kissing him slowly in the orange glow of your apartment building’s entrance. He kisses back, his lips tasting of coffee and maple and blueberry, yours tasting like chocolate and tea.

You squeeze your arms tighter around him, getting on your tiptoes to be as physically close as you can to him. He has one hand on either side of your rib cage, holding you there as he kisses back with all of the passion and love he has.

It can’t last too long or he’ll never leave. He won’t be able to. He breaks away after a few moments, his lips close to yours. He presses your foreheads together, arms encircling you again. “I have to go. I have to be at the office in an hour.”

You lift your head and your brow furrows in confusion. “Then why did you take so long to walk and eat with me?” You laugh quietly.

Marcus shrugs. “Didn’t want to leave you yet,” he admits, his eyes trained on yours. He gives you one last painfully gentle kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you say with a sad smile. “You’ve been my distraction lately. Whenever I’m bored, I text you.”

He sighs, the confession increasing his frown. “I’ll be in an entirely new place, without you.”

“But I’ll be here, in my same old life without you in it.”

The words punch a hole through Marcus’s heart. It’s true; he’ll have new distractions, new things to do. You’ll be here with a Marcus Pike-shaped hole in your heart. He kisses your forehead, the wheels turning in his head. “If you get a call in the next few weeks from an unknown number, be sure to answer it, okay?”

You nod and smile softly. “You need to go. Go.”

He nods and his hand squeezes yours. “I can’t wait to begin again with you.” With that, Marcus Pike, Agent Pancakes, whatever you want to call him, the man you’re highly suspecting might be your soulmate, walks off into the slightly chilly D.C. night.

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