#I have no idea how this got so long I'm so sorry

[gyubakeries]

i am in neeedddd of some fluffy scoups fics, could you please write something about cheol🥹

𝘀𝗽𝗮-𝗱𝗮𝘆 | c.sc

a/n: hi anon! sorry it took so long to get to this request 😭 writing all this made me want to have a spa-day, but i'm way too busy for one right now oof. thank you for requesting, and i hope you like it!

word count: 1.6k contents: seungcheol x afab!reader , established relationship , reader is tired , tiiiiny bit of angst BUT ITS SUPER FLUFFY , cheol is the best bf , self-care , domestic fluff , cheol is a girl's girl and we love him for it <3 , love next door is mentioned bcs im currently watching it :P

cheolz 💗 (19:59 p.m.) :

hi baby <3

when will u be reaching home 2night?

you (20:08 p.m.) :

outside front door rn

can u plz open up

read (20:08 p.m.)

—

the door swings open, and seungcheol's worried eyes take in your current condition. your work bag, slung from your shoulder, is weighing you down, making you slump forward. your eyes are red and watery. your skin looks pale, and you let out a sigh that makes seungcheol's heart ache.

"bad day?" seungcheol asks, and you nod weakly, left with no energy to even give him a verbal answer.

"c'mere love," he frowns, opening up his arms. you fall into his embrace, all the tension in your muscles melting away the second seungcheol tightly wraps you up in his arms. the feeling of being comforted feels so overwhelming that you can't help but let a few tears escape.

"i feel like shit," you mumble, your voice hoarse from crying in the car while you drove home from work. "i've failed at everything."

"i don't want to hear any of that," seungcheol shakes his head, holding you closer. "let me make you feel better, okay?"

you sigh again, pulling back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "i'm not in the mood for sex now, cheol."

"silly baby," seungcheol laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "i didn't mean sex. i thought i could help you unwind with your very own, made-at-home, spa-day!"

your eyes well with tears at how thoughtful your boyfriend is. seungcheol is quick to wipe the tears away, playfully scolding you. "no more crying. let's take the weekend to reset and start the next week afresh, hm? come on, i've got a lot planned."

your boyfriend slides your work bag off your shoulder and guides you into the apartment. he sets the bag down on the kitchen counter and comes back to kneel in front of you, helping you take off your heels. you sigh when your feet fall flat on the ground, tired from having to wear high heels the entire day.

"better?" seungcheol smiles, looking up at you, and you nod, feeling a little bit of energy seep back into you just by looking into seungcheol's eyes.

"good," your boyfriend says, getting up from the floor. "i've got to go check on the bath, so why don't you pick out some comfy clothes to wear, and then we can proceed?"

"okay, cheol," you agree, pressing a peck to his lips. his face lights up and he goes to the bathroom with a skip in his step. the exhaustion you had felt earlier was slowly getting replaced with the calming and healing presence of seungcheol.

your boyfriend really knew how to make you feel better.

—

you lay out your clothes on the bed. after a lot of thinking, you went with a hoodie (seungcheol's hoodie from college) and some baggy sweatpants. just as you were contemplating flopping onto the bed, a gentle touch on your shoulder makes you turn around.

"hey, your bubble bath is ready," seungcheol informs, and you realize that the entire spa-day idea was actually planned out well in advance.

"did you put in-"

"your favorite salted caramel-scented bath bomb? of course, baby. did you think i was a monster?" seungcheol gasps dramatically, making you laugh and hit his arm weakly.

"alright, i get it, you're obsessed with me," you roll your eyes, but you let seungcheol shrug off your blazer, unbuckle your belt and take off all your jewelry.

"yes, i am," seungcheol agrees, the genuinity in his voice knocking the air out of your lungs. you'd been dating him for seven years, ever since freshman year in college, yet sometimes his sincere love for you still surprised you.

the end of his lips tug into a smile at your silence, and he puts your jewelry away on your dressing table. "let's head into the bathroom," he instructs, and you follow him.

seungcheol stands in one corner of the bathroom, watching you as you take your clothes off and dump them in the laundry hamper. there isn't any heat behind his gaze, just the need to make sure you're taken care of.

"you gonna join?" you ask him, tugging your hair free from the bun you had put it in.

"i already showered earlier," he shakes his head. "i will be here though, to help with anything else you want."

"thank you," you smile shyly, getting into the filled bathtub slowly to make sure it doesn't overflow. the water was the perfect temperature, not too hot but not lukewarm either; just the perfect heat to make your body relax after a long day.

the scent of your favorite bath bomb envelops you, and lean back against the edge of the tub and close your eyes, letting out a content sigh.

after a few minutes of silence, seungcheol speaks up gently, now sitting cross-legged next to the tub. "did you wanna wash your hair?"

you blearily blink your eyes open, nodding. just as you're about to reach out for the shampoo bottle, seungcheol beats you to it.

"relax, let me do it for you."

you lean back again and watch seungcheol take some of the product on his palm and then kneel next to you. he lathers up the shampoo and then works it into your hair.

his touch is soft, yet firm. he massages your scalp with the shampoo, and as if taken away magically, the headache you had earlier vanishes. your eyes drop shut as seungcheol washes your hair.

you're sure you dozed off in the bath for a while, because you don't remember him rinsing the shampoo out, gently scrubbing your body clean, or drying you off with your towel.

you only wake up when he nudges you awake. "skincare time, baby."

you offer him a sleepy smile and a kiss to his cheek. you were dedicated to following your skincare routine daily, and you were glad that your boyfriend also gave it the same priority.

seungcheol gets you the clothes you put on the bed and you slip into them, the soft fabric of the hoodie engulfing you in warmth. you wrap your wet hair up in a towel and get to your skincare.

seungcheol stands beside you, a hand on your hip rubbing circles into the skin as he watches you apply various products on your face. you've explained all the various steps in your routine many times to him, but he can't keep a track of which is the toner, which is the serum and which is the cream.

once you were finally done, seungcheol walks you out of the bathroom with his hands on your shoulders.

"for dinner i got you take-out from your favorite chinese place," seungcheol says, seating you down at the dining table. "i haven't perfected my cooking skills yet."

"this is more than enough, cheol," you laugh, watching as he makes himself busy with warming up the food and bringing it to the table. "this is perfect."

"anything for my sweet girl," seungcheol winks flirtatiously, setting down a plate in front of you. "eat up, you need your energy. or else you're gonna be waking up like a hungry zombie tomorrow."

pretending to be offended at his words, you lightly kick his foot under the table. he responds by holding your free hand in his above the table as you both eat dinner in comfortable silence.

you're glad he doesn't ask you about work or what caused you to be this dejected earlier, because you frankly didn't have the energy to deal with all the emotions you felt earlier. knowing seungcheol, he'd probably whine and pout till you opened up to him later, so you put the sad thoughts away and focus on the moment.

—

you thought the night would wrap up with the meal. you felt far more happy than how you felt when you came home earlier, all thanks to seungcheol's efforts, but apparently, dinner wasn't the end.

after dinner, seungcheol loads the dishes in the washer, and then picks you up to take you to the bedroom. he props you up against the pillows and drapes the comforter over you.

"the new episode of love next door is up, you wanna watch?" seungcheol asks, grabbing the TV remote and getting under the covers next to you. the one thing you loved about your home with seungcheol was the TV in the bedroom, for the days either of you couldn't be bothered to go out to use the one in the living room.

"yeah, i need to know what happens next," you nod, a smile breaking across your face. seungcheol gives you a dimpled smile of his own and puts on the new episode of the series you both were heavily invested in.

as the intro started playing, you snuggle closer to seungcheol. as if on instinct, he outstretches his arm for you to use as a pillow, and you wrap your arm around his waist. your legs tangle together and you rest your head on his chest, breathing in his cologne.

"thank you so much, cheol," you murmur against his chest. "you helped me a lot today. if you weren't there-"

"we don't need to think about that," seungcheol shushes you. "no matter what, i'd always be there for you. which is also why you don't need to thank me. i do it because i love you."

"i love you too," you reply, looking up at him. you're met with his loving gaze; the gaze that heals you from the inside out, easing all your worries and filling you with hopes for a better tomorrow.

a tomorrow with seungcheol by your side.

you lean in to kiss him sweetly, and he complies easily, holding you impossibly closer to him. just as you break away, a character on screen starts yelling, startling the both of you and making you burst into laughter.

the long, weary day finally ends with you safe and secure in seungcheol's arms.

you wouldn't have it any way else.

- fin.

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[barcaatthemoon]

respect || alexia putellas x reader ||

You go back to Alexia after taking some space with the hope to reconcile.

You were absolutely fuming. Alexia had a way of acting like a complete dumbass sometimes. What should have been a nice night out with the team turned into something much more complicated. You wanted to have a good time and enjoy yourself, but then Alexia got jealous. She had a bad habit of getting jealous, and you had finally reached your limit.

It had been over a week and a half since the incident, and you were still pissed. You had seen Alexia since then, but you were wildly good at ignoring her at practice. The two of you lived together, but you hadn't been home since that night. Alexia was hurting, and you were also struggling, but you needed to prove your point.

In the time that you'd been away, you had practically flocked to your older sister. Marta loved you, and she would always take care of you, even if it strained her own relationship a little. You and Caroline were pretty close friends, but it was a little overwhelming for her to live with two very outgoing Spanish women. You knew that you were getting close to the end of your stay, even if you weren't quite ready to face Alexia again.

"Nena, I think that it is time you go back home for a bit. Not a single thing you're wearing right now actually belongs to you." There was a teasing lilt to your sister's voice, but you knew that she was serious. Behind her, you could see Caro standing in the hallway. She seemed a bit more anxious than normal, the kind that came with a certain air of guilt. "I can take you back in a bit."

"It's fine, I'll call a cab," you told her. Marta frowned as she watched you pack up your things. She hadn't meant that you had to leave immediately, but you definitely seemed to take it that way. You weren't mad at her, not really, but Marta knew that it would be a good idea to steer clear of you for the rest of the week.

You had always been very passionate, and with that came a lot of different feelings. Marta knew how hard it could be for you to calm down. Something seemingly small would stay with you for so long, and despite all of the work you had done to stop that habit, you could never quite shake it.

Marta sighed as you seemed to be gone before she could really stop you. A part of her wondered if she had made the right decision sending you away so early. She knew that things with Alexia could potentially get much worse, especially if Alexia was mad at you for stepping away for so long. Marta hadn't ever seen the two of you fight, but she had been there to pick up some of the pieces in the aftermath. Things between you and Alexia were generally pretty good, even if both of you were beyond stubborn.

Alexia's car was gone when your ride dropped you off. Your car was in the garage, so Alexia always parked hers outside, despite it being the nicer vehicle. It was just one of the many things that Alexia did to take care of you. You could be a bit tempermental, but Alexia always tried her hardest to take care of you. It wasn't a good thought, but slowly, you began to wonder if you'd be able to find someone else who was willing to do that.

"Why are you sitting outside? You're getting burned," Alexia said as she ran over towards you. For a moment, you thought she was going to pull you out of the chair, but she skidded to a stop before she could touch you.

"I've been gone for a while, and I wasn't really sure whether you'd want me to come inside after everything," you told her. Alexia scoffed at that as she pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry that I ran away, I just didn't want the fight to get worse. Please forgive me."

"You did the right thing. I was mad at first, but sometimes I forget how we go back and forth. You'd give me space if I wanted it, and sometimes, I need to remember to give it to you too. I was completely out of line for how I acted that night, and I am sorry, so please forgive me," Alexia pleaded with you. She held you in the hug to keep you from seeing her cry, but you could feel the tears begin to soak through the collar of the shirt you were wearing.

"Of course I forgive you, Ale," you told her. Alexia's body sagged down a bit as she relaxed in your arms. "Can we go inside now please?"

Alexia nodded as she wrapped her arm around your waist. You let her stay tucked against you as the two of you went inside. Alexia only let go of you once you were inside to go back out and grab your bag for you. You went straight into the bedroom to shower and change into clothes that were actually yours as Alexia started a load of laundry and called to order lunch for the two of you.

"I know that we kind of made up already, and I do not want to upset you, but I think we need to talk about what happened. Could we try to do that in a calm manner?" Alexia asked you. You nodded as you made room for her to sit with you on the bed. You knew that Alexia really didn't want to fight because she had brought the takeout to you instead of leaving it in the living room for later. "Will you please go first? I'd like to know what exactly happened that upset you so much."

"You embarrassed me in front of everybody. It's hard enough for the team to see me as my own person. I've been Marta's baby sister, then I was your girlfriend, and right when I started to feel like me, you showed everybody different," you told her. Alexia's face softened as she listened to you explain your feelings. She had never really thought about things like that before. You had always just been (Y/n) to her, but as she thought about it, the more she realized that she saw many people refer to you in regards to someone else.

"Yes, you're Marta's sister and my girlfriend, but that's not all you are. It isn't anybody else's fault that the world doesn't understand your value. I forget that not everybody knows you like I do, so I am sorry for stepping in the way I did. You know how I get, but if you're willing to be patient, I will work on being better," Alexia promised you. There was never going to be a world where you wouldn't give Alexia a second chance.

[keferon]

Ok i said i would do itater, but this was done for my sister who got really hurt and wanted comfort out of my drabble, shout out to you @saltynsassy31 XD

This will probably be very OOC bc again, i am NOT too acquainted with these characters

So apologies in advance, but i think this will still be very entertaining for you :]

So yeah, here's part 2!

---

Jazz was tired, they haven't given him much time to rest since he came back. And even if they did, it's not like he could rest anyways, thinking about....about Prowl.

No way he could have just left him, right? After everything....it just didn't feel right, and the way they spoke to him about it too. Call him crazy but something in his gut told him they were hiding something from him. But it just never seemed enough to push him to look into it (oh how he would regret that for the rest of his life)

Today was supposed to be a normal routine check to the new mechas, with new recruits coming in for him to teach.

Jazz was given a new mecha suit, despite his protests to it (which surprised even him honestly, but it just didn't feel right). He hadn't gotten the chance to see it yet, today was the day they would present the new model, though it was said to be in its early stages still.

...

He doesn't know how it happened, how he'd gotten here, but all he knew was that he had seen red. When he gotten to see his new mech suit, it seemed oddly familiar in touch, in fact something about it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Small dents and scarring coated the plating around the panels that opened to the cockpit. He recognised that plating, from crawling on it with his magnets, sleeping on them comfortably despite being made of metal (there was something so warm about it, but that warmth was....lost. He wanted to puke). But what broke the string holding him together, a scar, a scar so familiar it sent him back to the exact moment he witnessed his partner getting it in the first place.

Jazz had weilded that shut himself, they had gotten in a bad scuffle a while back, and with worry he wanted to try and make sure Prowl wouldn't be in too much pain before they could get some proper help.

"Jazz?" Someone called out to him. That was the last thing he remembered.

Now? Now he stood by the halls in which they didn't allow the likes of him inside, the halls in which the scientists worked on. He made a fast dash to the last room, the room one of the scientists told him had the one he was looking for (though he wasn't proud to admit he had perhaps aggressively gotten that answer out of the poor guy). He had a weird unknown blaster weapon with him that he had ripped from the mech suit he was supposed to try out (deep down, he hoped that weapon didn't belong to Prowl. He hoped that he wasn't too late), using that, he blasted the door open hoping that would keep anyone from stopping him from getting inside.

As soon as Jazz layed his eyes on the scene before him; his partner hanging from wires holding him into place, chain keeping him from leaving, mutilated almost beyong recognition save his face, and with a small weak staticked cry from his partner, "Jazz?" the small bit of awarness he had gained back was gone again. All he could do in that moment was to yell, a desperate cry that came from the pits of his lungs.

"GET AWAY FROM MY PARTNER!"

And in another flurry of motions he didn’t have complete control over, he was beating the ever living hell out of the prick who decided it was a good idea to mess with HIS partner! He didn’t even know how long he had been at it until the twisted man he called a boss scratched his face, small bits of blood flowing out. In shock and pain, he grabbed the man by the neck of his shirt and threw him to the otherside of the room. Once he was certain that he wouldn't be getting up again, he turned to face Prowl once more, running and calling out to him as he ran to scoop up his beloved's face, blurting out a mess of an apology.

"I'm so sorry, i shouldn't have brought you here- we, we need to get you out-"

Oh did the guilt eat him up from the inside, he- he shouldn't have brought him here. Prowl probably hated him right now, but the sudden distant bell of an alarm down the halls had him scrambling to his feet to try and make things right.

Suddenly, as adrenaline slowly faded off, he realised how much damage he had actually taken throughout his rampage, a limp on his left leg catching up to him. Stinging pain on his face and limbs, but he needed to keep moving, they weren't safe yet.

"I have to get you to a safe place," he mumbled, mostly to himself, "and- and then maybe call for help. Oh but who could i even go to?" As he spoke, he started to set Prowl's limbs free from it's chains, gods they were so damaged, he could barely look at the missing parts. But as he worked his way through, he let out small sighs of relief to see that at least, he seemed to not be missing some vital parts. He could still maybe make a run for it, if only he could stall the facility long enough-

"You really shouldn't have...."

Jazz turned in shock, Prowl's voice snapping him out of his panicked haze.

"Prowl..." if he wasn’t crying already, now he certainly was. Gods he fucked up badly.

Not having the courage to face the other just yet, he turned back to the chained leg he had been working on. Prowl didn't seem to have wanted an answer either way, sitting up as he watched the organic do his work (Jazz tried to ignore the missing arm).

As he finished getting rid of the chain, he got up again, letting out a hiss of pain from his injuries (which did not go unnoticed by the mech). Clutching his left side as a bleeding cut let out a terrible stinging sensation which he doesn't think he'll ever get used to, he walked over to the final limb stuck under chains. As he walked over, he briefed over the quick plan he thought of

"Look, i- i know you might not trust me right now-" a huff, almost soundling like a disbeliefing chuckle, was heard from the mech, Jazz ignored it. "But there is a place you can go to and hide, hide- hide until maybe i can get help or- or find a way to send you back-"

"You wouldn't make it that far." Prowl spoke, matter of factly, which got a hit under Jazz's skin

"I know that! Which is why you will make a run for it. There's an exit by the other side of this room where you can leave-"

A sudden realisation hit Prowl. Jazz wasn't planning on coming with him.

And the human nodded, seeming to understand that Prowl finally got what he was saying. As he reached the last final screw to Prowl's chains, he finished off what he was trying to say "I'll keep them busy long enough for you to leave," before he could finish, as the final screw was let lose and Prowl was free to move, he felt himself be lift up from the ground and let out a startled yelp. "Wha- HEY!"

It took Jazz being shoved inside Prowl's cockpit for him to realise that he had been picked up by the mech (maybe a possible concussion he thought to himself). Jazz couldn't even try to jump out as, despite it missing the plating to shut him inside, Prowl placed his servo up to close to exit.

Desperately and confused, Jazz called out, "What are you doing?!"

To be entirely honest, Prowl wasn't sure himself, he was just as confused as the human to his actions, usually so full of logic. This one was acted apon pure emotion. Emotion of fear, anxiety, anger but most importantly

Desperation

Because somehow, this stupid human had his spark between his fingers, and he'd be dammed if he let him get himself killed just for him.

This isn't how he would want to say goodbye

---

Thanks again, to my sister who pushed me to write this, and also helped out in some parts!

Might have done more if i could, but it's super late rn lol (it's 4am and our mon will kills us for staying up this late).

Again sorry for any OOC moments, but i hope this was to your enjoyment! Maybe i can do a part 3 to this, but idk enough about how things work to do that, so i let anyone be free to mess around with this :]

Oh my... oh fuck I can't. I just keep thinking about Prowl pressing his palm on his chest even when other humans eventually get to him and start shooting. He's a mess, half of his armor is missing he's probably leaving an energon trail behind him. But he knows that while it would take a lot of bullets to take him down, it would take only one lucky bullet to kill Jazz. I'm. AUGh

[angelpuns]

Mikey stretched his arms up, then out, then stretched each of the fingers. They always ached in the early morning like this, but it was slowly getting better, bit by bit. He pulled on the special gloves Donnie had made him and headed for the kitchen, only yawning a little bit as he went. 

Maybe they'd have something easy today, yesterday’s fight was surprisingly long….

He usually slept like a baby after missions, but something was nagging at him. He hadn't been able to figure it out before bed last night, and the worry seemed to dissipate as he got up for the day. He chalked it up to the whole witch-incident, even if the spell had been a complete dud. 

Some witches just weren't cut out for it, he guessed. 

Mikey was shocked to see the kitchen light was already on, and when he peeked around the corner he got an even more surprising sight. Leo was already up, hand on his hip as he rifled through the cabinet for breakfast. 

“Morning, Leo! I was gonna whip up some eggs and toast if ya wanna wait a little, “ Mikey started, voice soft in case Leo hasn't actually slept, as he seemed to have trouble doing these days. Well, more trouble than usual, anyway. 

Leo didn't answer for a moment, but he did go still. Like he'd heard Mikey, but was afraid to answer. 

“uh…you okay, Lee?” Mikey asked again, slowly walking towards his brother.

After the invasion - which was nearly a year and a half ago now - they'd all had trouble adjusting. They'd been beaten down both mentally and physically, and the recovery was long and slow. They were all still recovering, Leo included. 

So it wasn’t too strange for him to not answer them sometimes, or for him to act strangely for no apparent reason. His panic attacks and nightmares had become less frequent as time went on, but they'd all learned how to help. 

So maybe it was just something like that! Even though Mikey had never had Leo just ignore him like this before. Usually he at least acknowledged him or tried to communicate in other ways. 

Maybe this was just a new development, and they'd help Leo through it like always! 

Leo slowly turned around, with a faintly anxious expression. His breathing was even, though, and his eyes were plenty focused. So not a panic attack, but his demeanor was still…weird. 

Leo stated at him with wide eyes for a moment, before letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Um…sorry, this is a really weird question, but…who are you, exactly?” 

Mikey blinked. 

Well, that was new. 

He ran through a list of Leo's previous symptoms, and sometimes, yeah, he didn't exactly recognize them. But this was a clearly very cognizant and not panicking Leo, so it couldn’t be- 

And then Mikey remembered the thing in the back of his mind. The worry that had been lingering since their fight yesterday. 

What if the spell hadn't been a dud? 

“ well this isn't good….”

--------

Another part to that one au idea. I still don't know what to call it, but I'm kinda hopping around the ideas for it. I don't usually write in such little parts like this, so maybe it will become something idk :)

Technically this is exactly how wirm was born so maybe it'll be like that LMAO

But yeah enjoy Mikey being like ' ah yes the trauma' and then realizing that ' oh that's not the trauma '.

This part happens BEFORE the last blurb I posted btw, so I'm labelling it part one :) Chronologically it happens the morning before part two ;)

Part Two

[despair-posting]

Jegulus oneshot | 2.512 words | prompt: essential

"Hey Reg, wait! You know I didn't mean it like that."

Normally James Potter's voice made him stop in his tracks. It made him soften, would make him do anything, as long as he just asked.

Today though, Regulus quickened his steps. He was hurt, his pride was hurt, and he did not want to face the offender.

This was what he got for letting himself be swept into a juvenile game of truth or dare with James, his brother, and all their friends. He was outnumbered, even with Dorcas and Pandora in the same room, sitting comfortably in their respective girlfriends' laps.

He knew it was a bad idea, but all it took was James Potter fluttering his ridiculous lashes and flashing his ridiculous smile and Regulus caved. The firewhiskey coursing through his veins may have played a role as well.

He was a goner, he knew that. He just didn't think anyone else should know. Apart from Pandora, who might be the most eerily observant person on earth, and Barty whom he could never keep a secret from, no one knew about his gigantic, embarrassing crush on his brother's best friend. At least that was what he thought.

"Dare," James answered Remus, who had just spun the bottle of liquor they had emptied a few minutes before.

It wasn't hard to tell James had had the lion's share of it, the way he was sprawled out on the armchair. His legs were thrown over one armrest, his shirt riding up and exposing a sliver of brown skin just above his waistband that Regulus had been focused on for the past minute.

"Are you ever going to pick truth?", Remus smiled at his friend.

"Not if i can help it, no."

James' tone was relaxed, as if there was no task that could phase him. Remus seemed to take this as a challenge. His smile turned sinister. He glanced over at Regulus, whose eyes were still fixed on James.

When he glanced up, Remus looked him right in the eyes and said: "Kiss Regulus."

"What?", James and Sirius both asked at the same time, the shock in their voices unnervingly similar.

All Regulus could do was stare, shellshocked. James had snapped out of his relaxed position, now sitting on the edge of the armchair, clutching the cushioning beneath his hands.

"Moony, you can't make James kiss my little brother!", Sirius protested, scandalized. Remus was unfazed.

"Of course I can," he shrugged. "It's truth or dare."

Regulus still said nothing, too stunned to do anything but switch his stare from Remus to James to Sirius and back. He wasn't sure whether this was a dream come true or a particularly evil nightmare.

"But Remus, that's ridiculous." James laughed as he spoke, and tore Regulus' heart in two.

He knew he never stood a chance, but he didn't think the idea of kissing him would be so absurd to James that he couldn't even do it while intoxicated, on a stupid dare.

Through his alcohol-induced haze, Regulus could feel tears threatening to spill past his eyes. Not wanting to embarass himself even further, he mumbled something about the loo and left the room.

He could hear footsteps behind him and expected Pandora coming to check on him. But the voice that called after him was a different one.

That's how he ended up here, almost running away from the boy that made his heart melt with his kind eyes and messy hair. He flew down a staircase that started to swerve right as James set foot on it as well.

"Stupid castle!", he grumbled as he had no choice but to turn around, as the stairs now led to a dead end.

He wanted to rush right past James to find a different escape route, but he stopped when he saw him on the floor. In his drunken state, he must have fallen from the sudden movement.

"Shit, are you alright?" Regulus was concerned, despite his current angerment. He offered James his hand, which he gladly took as he pulled himself up with Regulus' and the railing's support.

"That's not the way to the loo," James noticed once he had regained his balance. Regulus crossed his arms and looked down.

"Regulus, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't mean to, I promise," James pleaded.

"You didn't hurt me. You just didn't want to kiss me. Why should I care?"

Regulus crossed his arms and looked in James' eyes defiantly. Usually the relentless stare he had learned from his family made everyone falter and recoil back, but not James. He had always seen it as the defense mechanism it was, a front Regulus put up instead of risking getting hurt. His red eyes and the wet streaks on his cheeks also lessened the effect.

Now James was the one looking down. "It's - That's not - I did want to."

His voice grew quieter and more unsure with each word.

Regulus' eyes grew, but he was still confused.

"You said it was ridiculous," he said sadly, his voice breaking.

"Oh! No, no, no, that's not what I meant!"

Regulus furrowed his brows and another tear rolled down his cheek. To his surprise, James stepped closer and wiped it away with his thumb. Regulus' skin tingled at the touch and his face grew warm, like the sun shone right on him.

"I just meant it's ridiculous because Remus knows how I feel about you. We're both drunk. And it was a dare. I don't want you to kiss me because you feel like you have to. If I get to kiss you, that's not how I want it to happen."

James slurred a bit, but his tone was earnest.

"You-," he hesitated, still not trusting the words yet. "You want to kiss me?"

James laughed.

"If you want it too, I never want to stop kissing you."

"Oh." That was all he got out, trying to process what James seemed to confess. His heart raced and he dropped his shaking hands to his sides. He replayed the moment in his mind, trying to find details he had overlooked in his surprise that led him to completely misread James' rejection. Did James blush at Remus' words or was he imagining it, adding it to the memory now to make sense of this revelation?

As he pondered, James started fidgeting with his hands. The other boy's long silence seemed to make him nervous.

"Reg? Can you say something, please?"

James voice was tense, hopeful, but with a hint of anxiety that made Regulus want to wrap the much taller boy in his arms to soothe him and never let him go.

"Merlin, James. Yes, I want to kiss you. Come here."

He leaned in, putting his hands on James' shoulders. He didn't want to wait another second to feel his lips on his.

But James took a step back. It almost looked like the motion pained him. It hit Regulus like a slap in the face.

"What the fuck, James! I thought -"

"Not while we're both drunk, Reg," James soothed Regulus' confusion and anger immediately.

"We're not that drunk," the other quipped petulantly. James seemed amused.

"I just fell on my arse and you agreed to truth or dare with your brother. I think we're plenty drunk."

Regulus only grunted in agreement.

"But if you don't change your mind, come find me tomorrow and we can kiss as long as you want, okay?"

"Fine. Goodnight, James."

Before the older could protest, he pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, brushed his hand in passing, and disappeared down a different stairwell that led the way to the Slytherin dorms.

He could feel James' stare on him as he walked away and smiled, completely wonderstruck at the thought that James actually liked him back.

Knowing what the next day would bring, he fell into his bed and fell asleep easily with a soft smile on his lips.

The scene that unfolded the next morning in the marauders' dorm was much less peaceful.

"Ugh, I swear I'm never drinking again!", Sirius complained from his spot on Remus' bed. James groaned in response.

"Not so loud Pads, you're going to make my head explode. And you say that every time you drink."

Remus only laughed at both of their misery, already up and about the dorm. Stupid werewolf metabolism never let him develop a proper hangover.

James decidedly kept his eyes closed, not yet ready to face the bright daylight.

Peter came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in one hand, the map in the other.

"Sirius, are you meeting your brother or something? He's standing right outside the common room."

James snapped up immediately, knowing exactly what Regulus was waiting for, and it definitely was not his brother.

"Fuck, ow!"

His head punished him for the sudden motion. He sat rubbing his temple for no longer than a second before getting up and rushing past Peter into the bathroom.

He brushed his teeth as thoroughly as possible while also trying to tame his hair at the same time. Once he had finally given up he ran out of the bathroom and changed in record time.

"Are you meeting Regulus?", Sirius asked, confused.

"Yes, he forgot his uhm," James quickly scanned the objects on his nightstand. "Book!"

He grabbed it and hopped out the door on one leg, still trying to get his second shoe on. He hurried down the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he got to the door, after way too much time in his opinion, he pushed the portrait open and, finally, he saw him.

Standing there with an adorable scowl on his face, Regulus was leaning against the wall. James' heart skipped a beat and he broke out in a huge grin.

"Hey Reggie, how-" He didn't get any further, because for the second time in less than twelve hours, James landed on the floor. The book he brought slid across the floor towards Regulus, who chuckled and picked it up before taking the few steps towards James.

"Really? Again?"

"I guess you could say I can't help falling for you," the older batted his lashes at Regulus, who rolled his eyes but still offered his hand to help him up once again. Instead, James seemed to get comfortable on the floor and crossed his legs underneath him.

"That's a really bad pickup line, James." Despite this, Regulus blushed.

"And that's a really good color on you, Regulus."

He smiled up at the red-faced boy, took his hand, and with one hearty tug pulled him down to the floor with him.

Regulus, who didn't expect to find himself in his long-time crush's lap just then, only let out a surprised yelp.

"Hello, lovely."

James' low, warm voice sent a pleasant shiver down Regulus' back.

"Hi," he almost whispered, suddenly very shy.

"Haven't changed your mind then?"

Regulus had to smile. The excitement in James' voice and the huge grin on his face were so endearing, almost giving the impression of an excited puppy wagging his tail. Obviously he hadn't changed his mind, so he shook his head.

"Good," James whispered, moving closer to Regulus. Their lips almost touched, the heat already brushing Regulus' skin. He pushed his own head forward and finally, finally, they were kissing.

The feeling was indescribable. Regulus had kissed people before but that was just for fun. Nothing compared to the feeling of James' mouth on his, his breath softly tickling his face, his warmth under him, in front of him, all around him; to kissing someone he had real feelings for, and who apparently had real feelings for him as well. Caught up in the moment he wrapped one arm around James' waist and placed his free hand reverently on his cheek.

Both let out a simultaneous sigh and they had to chuckle. They pulled apart and Regulus delicately stroked James cheek with his thumb. James, ever impatient, buried both hands in the other's silky hair and pulled him back in. He traced his tongue over Regulus' bottom lip and he crumbled.

James kissed like Regulus was essential to his survival, like he was the air that he breathed. Fuck, he kissed him like he was more important, the way he licked into Regulus' mouth and pressed so close to him there was no room for air.

Regulus never wanted it to stop. The feeling in his stomach went from butterflies to fireworks, he felt like he was on fire and could melt at any moment. If this was the last moment of his life, he wouldn't mind at all.

And oh, how well he fit there. The space between James' arms was the perfect size, their mouths seemed made to fit together. The way his hands glided perfectly through his hair and scratched his scalp just enough couldn't be a coincidence.

After what could only be described as a life-changing couple of seconds, James pulled away. Regulus tried to follow with his mouth but the kiss eventually broke.

"I distinctly remember you saying something about kissing as long as i like." Regulus put on his most heartbreaking pout but James' eyes were not focused on him. He followed his line of vision and cane face to face with a wheezing Peter, a smug Remus and an absolutely perplexed  Sirius. James attention turned back to the boy in his lap.

"Yes and I'd love to do that. But maybe not right now. Perhaps on a date to Hogsmeade?" He grinned uncertainly. His eyes kept shifting back to his friends, mainly Sirius who seemed to be going through all five stages of grief simultaneously. Regulus seemed very amused by this.

"Sure, if my brother hasn't killed you by then." Regulus wanted to lean in for one final, chaste peck before leaving James to deal with his gaggle of idiots, but he didn't get that far. James abruptly pulled back, startled by Sirius who let out an ungodly shriek.

"Look, I'm happy as long as you're both happy and you can do what you want, but for the love of Merlin, don't do it in front of me!" Sirius' hands covered his eyes but the look of distaste was clear on his features. Reluctantly, Regulus removed himself from James' lap and got up.

"Fine, we'll do it in your dorm then," he quipped dryly. Both Sirius' and James' mouth fell open. Peter broke out in renewed laughter and even Remus stared bemusedly at his horrified boyfriend.

Regulus rolled his eyes and started to make his way backwards down the hall.

"Calm down you two, I'm kidding. James, I'll see you soon I assume?" The addressed nodded, still eyeing Sirius gingerly. Happy for now, Regulus turned around and made his way back to his own dorm room for a much needed debrief with his friends. As he walked away he heard Sirius' voice.

"Oh, he forgot his book." Remus' answer made him laugh into his hand.

"Darling, you're lucky you're pretty."

~~~

Notes: Sorry if it's cheesy, I can't stare at this anymore I have to release it into the wild

Prompt from @jegulus-microfic but it escalated and got too long to be a microfic

[purinfelix]

from your last post could i request pedri? from “about you” by the 1975 where perhaps reader and pedri had a past relationship all throughout high school and when pedri left for barcelona they lost contact / broke up but years later they reunite somehow? When they do it’s like a “i thought you’d forget about me by now” to “how could i forget about you?” maybe angst to fluff! sorry that was so long … i hope it made sense lol <33

did you think i'd have forgotten? ✶⋆.˚ - pedri gonzalez

w/c: 600 a/n: this is one of my fav songs of all time so tysm for this (and for giving a specific request HAHA) i got quite a few for this song but i liked this idea the most and thought it fit the best - hope u enjoy anon !! <3333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

He still looked exactly the same.

Or at least, from what you could make as your train sped past where he was standing on the platform - though you were pretty sure you could still faintly his features, that dark black hair, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he laughed.

It was all exactly the same.

And maybe it was the realisation, that feeling of noticing someone familiar in a place like this - or something deeper within you that you dared not to question - that pushed you to speed off the train at the last minute when this wasn't even your stop. Maybe it was this that made you walk, then jog, then sprint towards what you recognised as his figure in the distance.

But it was also the reminder of what happened between you two, all those years ago, that brought your sprint to a screeching halt. And what would be the chances of you running into your ex-boyfriend here, at a random station, far away from your hometown or the country he had left you to move to? How could you face him, after all that?

"Y/N, is that you?" Too late.

"Pedri?" you called out, your tone confused even though you had made up your mind about it being him long before he had.

"Woah, hi, what are you doing here!"

"I could ask you the same thing," you laugh, a little awkwardly.

"I'm here for a match, we're playing a local team."

"Oh, right," you smile, of course, "I study here."

There's a slight pause, in which you can see Pedri's expression turn into one of surprise. "I didn't know that."

"I mean, why would you?" You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but it's too late since his face is already donning an apologetic look.

"Right, sorry," he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks at the floor. "What are you studying?" he says after a while of silence.

"Nursing," you say matter-of-factly.

"Of course, you'll be great at that," he says, offering a warm smile.

It's clear he's eager to make this exchange as normal as possible, and you'd probably be obliged to let him. But it's hard to be normal given what happened between the two of you, when this is the first time you've spoken to him in years.

"It's nice to see you," he says after another moment of silence.

"Same for you," you laugh shyly trying to avoid eye contact, "I figured you'd forgotten about me by now."

"How could I forget about you?" When you look into his eyes again, you're taken aback by how well his expression reflects his words - his brows tilted slightly up in the inner corners, a tender confusion at the fact that you'd think he'd dare to forget about you.

"Well, you know with how famous you are and everything, I see how they chant your names when you play," you begin to ramble, eager to explain yourself.

"Well, I'd hardly consider myself fam- wait, you watch my games?"

"Well, yeah," you sigh shyly, feeling your cheeks glow pink at the sight of his smirk. The two of you stand there, looking at each other for a while, exchanging sly glances - and it feels, just for a moment, like you're the same high schoolers who were in a puppy-love relationship.

"Are you doing anything now?" he asks you.

"Well, I was on my way to class but I'm probably late for that now."

"Do you want to grab some coffee? I want you to show me what's good around here," he smiles, "oh, and catch me up on how you're doing."

You feel your cheeks begin to ache from how wide you're smiling.

"I'd like that," you nod, "I'd like that a lot."

[frogs-crackcorner]

An Angel All My Own P-3

Simon Riley x reader

Cw: nightmares, fluff

The hallway is dark as you sprint down it. Your lungs burn but you can't stop. Screams echo down the corridor. You have to get away. You can feel the creature gaining on you. The screams get louder. You're running as fast as you can but you're still not fast enough. The thing claws at the back of your neck.

You jolt up in bed, scanning the dark room. Everything is exactly as you left it before falling asleep. There are no monsters. No need to run. It was all just a dream. Except, the screaming hasn't stopped. In fact, it was getting louder. You leap out of bed and rush downstairs, flipping on lights as you go. You stop just outside the guest bedroom door. Should you really go in? What if he wasn't really in trouble? What if he was mad that you woke him up? What if he slept naked?

You decide to take the chance. You swing the door open, hurrying over to the bed. Ghost thrashes on the bed, blood curdling screams pouring from his open mouth.

"Ghost! Wake up! Ghost, please," you beg, shaking him as hard as you could. Ghosts eyes snap open as his hand shoots out to grab yours. His eyes are cold. His grip on your wrist begins to hurt.

"Ghost, please. You're hurting me," you whisper. You try to tug your wrist back but he's too strong. Much stronger than you. This was a bad idea. You never should come down here, never should have let him stay. Something in Ghosts eyes changes. Like a switch was flipped. He drops your wrist before sitting up and hanging his head. He runs a hand over his face before sighing.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry if I hurt you. And I'm sorry I woke you up, love. I just," he trails off, "I was hoping tonight would be different. I was hoping they wouldn't come back."

Even with his head down, you can see tears collecting in his lashes. This must happen a lot. You wonder what nightmares could be so terrible that a man like him woke up screaming. You're not sure you want to know. Trying to sleep must be hell for him. Who knows when the last time he felt safe enough to get decent sleep was. Your heart breaks for him. Before you can stop yourself, you're reaching out your hand and scratching the back of his neck.

"I don't know what you see in your nightmares. I don't know why you decided to stay here. I barely know you to be honest. But I do know that I'm going to be here. I'll be here as long or as little as you'd like. But I'm not leaving until you tell me you're okay. Okay?," you hum. Ghost is tense under your touch. His eyes dart between you and his lap. He swallows hard and you feel him relax a little. His body still shakes, maybe from adrenaline or maybe from fear.

"You don't have to do that. I'll be fine," he mutters.

"Too bad. Scoot over," you command. You're not sure when you got so bold. Ordering a strange man to share his bed with you. But you didn't really care. As tough as he looked, you could tell he was struggling. You knew he was only putting on a brave face for others. Ghost stares at you for a moment before sliding over. You climb on to the bed and tuck your legs up. You gently pull Ghost's head towards you. He tenses again for a second before letting you guide his head to your chest.

You adjust your hand and begin running your nails along his scalp. Ghost lets out a shuddering breath. His eyes flutter shut. You can't help but chuckle softly. He opens one eye and glances at you. "Sorry. But it's the first time I've seen you actually relax. It's nice," you smile. Ghost closes his eyes again and nods.

"It is," he agrees.

It goes quiet after that. You can feel Ghost's breathing get deeper and he lets out quiet snores. It was nice to see him get some real sleep, even if you had only just met him. You're not sure how long you had been down here with him but you decide it's probably time to get back to your own bed.

You gently shift your shoulder, trying not to let Ghost's head fall. You really don't want to wake him up when he was just getting some decent sleep. You scoot a little more. You're almost free. Ghost moves and you freeze. He readjusts his position, turning on his side slightly. His arm slides around your waist and pulls back into him. There is no getting out now. You huff a little. You need to be up early in the morning and that's not happening if you don't get any sleep. It's probably almost 3 am by now. Your eyes are heavy and you're blinking slowly.

You wiggle a little in Ghost's arms, whether to get out or to get comfortable you're not entirely sure. He's so warm and you're so tired. Maybe you could just stay here a little longer.

Taglist: @smileykiddie08 @iminlovewithjasontodd

[foodtruckery]

oh my GOD you are so big brain the idea of stan resorting to prostitution when theyre trapped between dimensions and it forcing both of them to come to terms with their issues through what im sure would be a really ugly argument

why am i now imagining ford looping the way stan's voice sounded through his head. wrecked and strained and ford's stupidly big brain is happily filling the gaps in for him about what stan did to sound like that. all the gritty details of imagining stan getting on his knees for someone, how rough it mustve been for him to have slightly red eyes. did they pull on stans hair? was he nothing but a willing hole, relaxing his throat to let them in? or did he actively reciprocate? did he run his tongue along the underside of their cock and hum something meaningless just for the vibration?

and then at some point, those visualizations start veering wayyy to close to fantasies for fords comfort when he starts imagining stan kneeling in front of him. his hand is stans hair, yanking him deeper. stan looking up at him with tears pricking at the corner of his eyes from the effort. stan moaning for him just from the feeling of ford's cock shoved down his throat-

i also feel like with a multiverse quite literally endless, it might in the long wrong help ford and stan get more comfortable when it comes to their feelings for each other. hard to draw a line at incest when you see what looks like a living water fountain banging a dishwasher or some other crazy shit like that

(also please dont feel pressure to answer asks fast! youve got your own life and your own responsibilities and theres no rush to get to anything i send you i just like to chat :D)

-🐶

MY FRIEND!! thank you for being patient with me! the last week and a half have been WILD and i have been chomping at the bit to get to my ask box! i'm sorry it's taken so long to get to this (and tbh i had kiiiind of hoped i would be done with this piece so i could share when i responded but fuck it! we'll get there! i wanna talk!) but i need you to know that this fuckin ask has absolutely been fueling me through the like. 6600 words i have written of this damn idea so far hahaha. so in exchange for all the lovely inspiration, i will tell you a bit about what i will hopefully be able to finish soon-ish here! cause like. YES. absolutely just love the idea of ford slowly figuring out what's going on and getting caught up on all the little details -- like what the fuck does the dick look like on a dishwasher, right???? how the hell did stan even figure out how to get something like that off?? is the technique applicable to ford's dick???? and honestly, i haven't delved as far into that whole train of thought as i had originally planned to (and might go back and add to it, who knows!) so i just really LOVE coming back to this ask and ruminating on all of THAT.

not to say that we aren't getting at least a LITTLE bit of it, of course! for you, 🐶, a snippet of what i've got so far because this bit in particular was absolutely inspired by this ask!

[yiiiiiiiikes25]

been cogitating on this for a minute. i'm irked by my own bottomless appetite for validation, but am deeply, deeply turned off by--like, experience visceral disgust and anxiety about--the notion that any praise i get could be pro forma or unearned. the idea that a reader owes an author anything at all makes me fucking itch. on the other hand--

i don't think this is a universal truth and i don't know how @gallusrostromegalus (sorry you're out here catching strays) intended this term, but "social recognition euphoria" is a useful one, imo. here's how i think of it--

that's social recognition euphoria, or it's how i use the term: something about who i am and something about who you are led us to this strip of sidewalk, where we recognized each other. what a fucking joy, or per @kamaela, magic. hats here could be same appetites, same characterizations, same aesthetics, same perversions, same...whatever you've got. i jumped fandoms because i same-hatted so hard with @garagepaperback on the basis of her lateral mind for language and the ambition in her writing.

it's sour, to me, that we call stats 'engagement,' especially kudos. @eleadore's callout re: conflation of attention and community is completely on the money, but i want to go a step further--let's picture kudos as a little public 'cool hat' tally. 'cool hat,' though, isn't necessarily 'same hat.' 'cool hat' is transactional, quantitative instead of qualitative, flattening--and perfectly nice, as long as you don't then wander the neighborhood checking out everybody else's tally. i think a lot of us do, myself included, and that is a bummer. (i'm personally curious whether kudos have a homogenizing effect on the kind of stuff we all make as we respond to the natural impulse to craft popular hats.)

so, the attention/community divide: inasmuch as i have a point here (do i?), what i think a lot of us are hungry for is a fuckin' hat discussion. the degree to which community nourishes us, the factor that makes it durable and personal and meaningful, hinges on the depth and specificity of recognition communicated in the "same hat" moment we're offered. it is fundamentally qualitative, not quantitative. it nourishes in a way a kudos count can't and shouldn't. it's why, for instance, a cheerleader-librarian like @kamaela or @sitp-recs ends up being glue for community, absolutely vital connective tissue.

to be clear, we aren't owed this nourishment--nobody asked us for these fucking hats, dude--but we are for sure going for a lot of walks in interesting headgear, or to ape @garagepaperback's metaphor, leaving a lot of signed hat piles lying around in a public hat archive. if the social recognition euphoria didn't mean anything to us i'd bet we'd largely keep our hats in our houses. if we're counting the social recognition euphoria we've lost our way a little bit, because it's not a countable thing.

i think what many of us aren't saying is that we hope, in a secret and shameful way, that our stats will function as tangible social proof: we wear the hat everyone likes best, and we made it ourselves. our hat is exceptional. we are exceptional. this is a bummer of a hope; regardless, we lay our hat carefully in the public hat archive; we check, privately and obsessively, as we let go of the idea that our hat will be the one hat to rule them all, whether our hat is even as good as everyone else's. what an exceptionally lonely thing. i'd like to do less of it.

not for nothing, in the course of developing co-writing and editing relationships, my crew's come up with a phrase for the deepest form of same-hatting: 'wet brain,' as in pressing our wet brains together, as though these same-hat boys took off their hats and then their hair and scalps and skulls and sat together to create. i would imagine that there are huge appetites for structures and practices in fandom that make that kind of intimacy, that heroin-shot of social recognition euphoria, easier for newcomers to find.

re - your last post, as a writer i find that to be an absurd take. people who write exclusively for validation probably shouldn't. if discovering your work is enjoyed and loved - just privately - is a dealbreaker for you, i think there are probably bigger issues that need to be worked through. the idea that we write fic for free and yet this discussion about "payment" through kudos/comments persists is so backwards and obnoxious.

sorry to tag you on this, obv you have nothing to do with op, but i just wanted to say - as a writer recs are a HUGE deal. to know that you liked something enough to share it with others is the biggest compliment for me personally. thanks for doing what you do.

I’m happy you reached out because this is a really interesting perspective. I definitely see increased messaging around comments = payment that pressures readers into thinking they are required to leave comments, and I agree that there are many layers in this convo that point out to a not-so-healthy relationship with fandom.

I find it hard to join this discussion not being an author myself, because I only have the privileged perspective. Ofc I understand how important feedback can be to boost newcomers and those who don’t feel part of the community. We all deal with insecurity in different ways and it’s hard to navigate a big fandom when you don’t have a group of friends to rely on. In the end the fandom experience is about a sense of belonging and it saddens me to realize that I might be part of the problem since my recs only reach Tumblr and my ao3 comments are far and few in between.

It’s funny because my blog has always targeted other readers: at the beginning I didn’t even tag authors and did not expect them to find or engage with my posts. Over the years the recs became more and more personal, until I realized I was writing them for myself. Sure, they are love letters to the fic and might help more people find them, but at the end of the day this is my little therapy corner where I can let go and babble around to my heart’s content 🙏🏼 I’ve always been proud of this blog and seeing that post gave me mixed feelings about it for the first time, so thank you for your message!

Again, I think this discussion has many layers and I’m a bit wary to get involved being a humble reader, but I’d be curious to see how others feel about it…

[ninja-confession-go]

Long rant about Jay (not a hate rant quite the opposite actually)

I hate that they got rid of Jay's mechanic/inventor traits as time went on. And instead of just bringing those traits back they keep introducing characters to fill In that role.

Like Im sorry but why are 3 of the 4 gals apart of the main group into mechanics or deals with tech in someway??? Why is Wyldfyre the only gal who doesn't have an interest In tech????

Nya, Sora and Pixal all fulfill essentially the same tech role and while that's fine as they can easily fulfill different aspects, my issue is WHY NOT BRING JAY'S SKILLS BACK THEN?

They r clearly not afraid of multiple characters fulfilling similar roles so why was Jay the only one who's mechanic skills were stripped away?

Like his skills were so important in the earlier seasons he helped out so much and even got the bounty for fuckin fly?? Like his skills in machinery was also a reason why wu chose him too so to strip that away just makes no sense?

Like I'll forever be salty about this, his intelligence in machinery was so interesting to see especially when u consider the comedic kinda of character he's supposed to be. They could easily made him the mad scientist type of inventor/mechanic but they just hate fun and whimsy and would rather he be just comedic relief and nothing else I guess.

THATS ANOTHER THING

I hate how they treated Jay like he was stupid in later seasons too. They really dumbed him down instead of being the smart comedic relief he's the dumb comedic relief and I HATE it. bro literally deals with mechanics and made shit from scraps if there is one thing he ISNT, is stupid.

Like if they had just made him, let's say not emotionally intelligent i could understand. This is my own personal headcanons coming through, but i don't think he was around many other humans aside from his parents and occasional mail man growing up, and while i dont think he means to come off as a jerk, he tends to say shit without thinking it through as we have seen ALOT and that could be chalked up to him dealing more with machines than people. So If they had just focues on his lack of emotional intelligence, THAT I could understand and would have been fine with. Obviously this is more my own headcanon coming through but u get the idea

But they just made him more all around stupid and I just find that so hard to believe.

I hate how none of Jay's backstory has been explored too.

They introduced a mind shattering revelation that Jay's adopted and proceeded to do...nothing with it.

WHYYYYY???

It would have been so cool to explore that but no, it gets no mention or focus at all aside from that random coversation betwen Unagami and Jay in the season that absolutely should have been a Jay season but for some reason wasn't. Like why bring it up then lol

I also hate that all of Jay's conflicts tend to involve Nya. Like I know they yin/yang but cmon bro, not every conflict Jay goes through has to focus on his relationship with Nya. Let this man get SOME interesting characterization that isn't based around Nya CMON

I saw a few posts on here talking about Jay's characterization and I just had to jump In with my two cents cuz it's crazy how they brutalized him in later seasons. The Fandom tries their hardest to keep the mechanic aspect of Jay alive and I appreciate that so much cuz it's a crime they got rid(or forgot or whatever) of it later on

If u can't tell I'm a Jay fan who's mad their fav was done SO dirty LOL

.

[heartofjasmina]

A thought just crossed my mind

The Iida brothers (or just one of them) finding out that their sweet little sister is a slut, who's willing to spread her legs for anyone gives her any attention

Or that she works at a glory hole

This-

Tenya Iida had no idea what he was doing here. One of his sidekicks had told him that he needed to 'unwind' and brought him to a dingy sex shop that had.. places in the back where you could get off. It made him feel dirty but it had been far too long since he got off with someone else involved. So he followed his sidekick deeper into the store, all the way to the back where a gloryhole had been installed.

"Have fun doll, brought a real hero for you. And you love heros don't you?" His sidekick called and though Tenya wanted to hit him, his gut twisted when he heard a sweet, familiar voice answer.

"I do. I love heroes. Lots and lots." You almost moaned the words. He should not be getting hard over this.

His sidekick closed the door behind him after giving Tenya a clap on the shoulder and whispering loudly "she's got a hungry lil mouth, and you've more than earned a relaxing break."

It was easy to find the hidden latch that kept you 'protected' in your little cubby. And sure enough, when he damn near ripped it off the hinges, there you were. Fingering your needy pussy and mouth wide open waiting for more dick, and unavoidably his little sister. If he wasn't mistaken you were even wearing one of his shirts.

"T-Ten!" You flushed horribly as your big brother saw you in your debauched state. But all he could think about was the fact that he could still see your tiny fingers buried knuckle deep in your wetness.

"Get up." He barely recognized his own voice, rough and gravelly as it was.

"But--"

"You really don't want push it right now." He took a step forward and grabbed you by the hair, visciously ignoring the way his dick twitch in his pants when he realized that on your knees like that it would be all to easy to fuck your throat.

"Ten, I swear I was just-" Your voice was pitiful, trembling, but still hoarse. Probably from all the dick you'd had down your throat.

"Being a fucking slut. That's what you were doing." It was like fire had taken over his blood, and all filters between his brain and his mouth had been lifted. "If I have to give it to you myself to keep you from offering up your mouth like a two dollar whore, then I will."

"Just wanted you, not them!" You swore, and yeah, Tenya can admit that's what caused him to snap.

"Oh, so instead of admitting you wanted to fuck me like a big girl, you decided to let any hero off the street use you?" He snarled as he dragged your face forward, rutting against your face without remorse.

"I'm sorry, Ten." It was genuine, and you weren't revolted by his crudeness. Hell you were mouthing him through his jeans- looking up at him so needily it made his head spin. "Let me make it up to you." Every kiss to his clothed cock caused him leak pre into his boxers, a dark wet patch forming as his tip grew sticky.

"Take my cock out." He should be worried by how calmly he gave the order. Should've been pissed by how easy and practiced you were as you unbuckled his belt and freed his cock. But all he wanted was to punish you for making him feel this way, wreck you until you were just as fucked up as he was about this.

He had to tighten his grip on your hair when you went to suck him. You fucking whimpered at being denied his cock, like it physically hurt you not to have his heavy girth in your mouth.

"I know you're a cockslut, but you're gonna have to learn some fucking manners if you want my cock sis." And there it was, that tremble in your lower lip and tears gathering in your eyes. The look that always made him ashamed and aroused in equal measure when he was just a bit too mean to you growing up.

"Please can I have your cock, Ten?" He wondered if he should let you start crying for real first, but then reasoned you could cry on his cock later anyway.

"So sweet when you want to be, too bad I don't buy it. Not after finding you here." He sneered down at you as he released your hair. "But a deals a deal. Make me cum and maybe I'll think about fucking you."

You were off like a shot, opening your mouth wide and swallowing him down inch by inch until your nose was in his pubes. He wasn't sure who moaned louder as you started to bob your head. It was a slow, wet, nasty yet utterly loving blow job that Tenya knew would ruin him for any other girl after you.

"You shouldn't be this good, fuck-" Ten had to resist the urge to skullfuck your perfect little mouth. You hadn't earned any effort on his part yet, but it was heaven and hell giving you free reign. "How many dicks did you have to suck to get this fucking perfect?" He was babbling to himself, lost in the pleasure of your hot wet tongue and throat.

Then he felt your tongue on his balls, little kitten licks every time you deep throated him, threatening what little sanity he had left.

"They're so full they ache sis, all for you. Feel 'em." Your fingers were sticky when they cupped his balls reverently, and his cock throbbed in your mouth when he remembered why. His gut tightened and he knew he wasn't going to last any longer.

"Gonna cum, y/n-" He didn't know why he bothered to warn you, you swallowed him to the root and looked him in the eyes- silently pleading for his load.

His balls drew up as he unloaded down your throat, and you moaned like it was the most delicious treat in the world. Your eyes grew unfocused as you struggled to keep up with every thick spurt of seed. Tenya swore he had never came so hard in his life.

The problem became evident when you wouldn't let his dick go.

"Hey-"

You ignored him, your tongue massaging the vein on the underside of his shaft before you pulled back and started making out with his tip. Tonguing his slit for every last drop- completely lost in your worship of him.

So he had to grab your hair again to haul you off growling, "Enough."

You pouted at him, every bit the spoiled baby of the family. "More, Ten. Please?"

He scoffed, tucking himself away and throwing his jacket at you- already a plan forming in his mind on how exactly he was supposed to handle you and your insatiable mouth.

"Get dressed. Lets see what Tensei has to say."

[cyandreamzaceattorney]

✦ AA girls getting boba tea ✦

A few days ago I felt like drawing Ema, Kay, Maya and Franziska hanging out and drinking boba tea, cuz I really like the idea of these four having a friendship group :-D however, I unfortunately couldn't fit all four characters in so I (mostly) cut Franziska from the pic. Sorry Fran fans! I do love her but, I wanted to draw the other three girls a bit more (cuz that's just the mood I was in) and didn't want to stray away from this specific concept as I felt really inspired to draw them walking while chatting with boba tea.

Overall I do like how this picture came out, even if I definitely rushed it a bit (I think this was mostly because I got hyped over getting time to draw again, cuz I've been busy on and off). Unfortunately I lost my favourite brush liner before doing lineart on this and halfway threw my other liner magically dried up! So that was frustrating but, I worked around it and want to regain confidence in using fine liners so kind of a useful problem lol. I also decided to change up how I draw Kay in my art style a little and I think I like it :3 And, really like the outfits I gave the girls. Even if they are simple. They're also summer outfits because Australia is once again breaking the record for hottest summer (and it's still technically spring (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)). Fun fact, Ema is wearing a striped shirt as a reference to the stripe motifs in her aai design!

Now time for boba tea hc's cuz why not XD. Maya has a Taro milk tea with the regular black pearls, because it's purple and in my mind Taro and chocolate being her favourite flavours just makes sense. Kay has a iced tea with lychee jelly (mainly cuz I didn't feel like colouring the jelly but I see Kay liking lychee), idk what flavour her tea is, but it's probably a fruit flavour cuz in my experience ice teas are often fruit flavours. I also have the random hc that whenever Kay gets boba around Miles she gets a weird combo (e.g. chocolate milk tea with green apple pearls) just to see his upset reaction lol.

Ema and Franziska also have boba, you just can see it cuz Ema has them in a shopping bag which Kay is in front of. As for flavours, Ema's is definitely chocolate milk tea cuz her snacks in the English version of the games seem to be similar to tee vee snacks (idk if tee vee snacks are a thing in us, if they aren't they are small long cookies cotted in chocolate, kinda like pocky but much shorter, but thicker and fully coated) though I can also see her getting brown sugar with black pearls. Franziska I could see getting something like the regular tea flavour (which is called "Thai tea" or "original flavour" depending on the boba shop I go to) with no pearls or jelly because in my mind she doesn't like them :P, in general I don't think she'd like a lot of sweet flavours but that's because I hc her as not liking sweet food for no logical reason, my brain has simply decided this ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Hope you all enjoy this drawing and my super austic ramble about what boba tea I think these fictional characters drink XD

Next traditional drawing will be in a new sketcbook as I'm almost finished this one (and the last pages won't be as fanart so I won't post them here). I'm shocked cuz I haven't finished a sketchbook in less than a year for several years now! But this makes sense because I drew a lot this year for several reasons :-P

[tinybeetiny]

Bought by Ateez

Please understand this is satire and a joke. Please don't take this seriously, and don't come in my messages telling me how cringey this is BECAUSE I KNOW…. I was feeling sentimental and was reminiscing about my 2012-2015 years…. If you think this is cringey… that’s the whole point. I literally cringed the entire time writing this, but that’s the fun of it. Anyway!!

Cw: CRINGE, HUMAN TRAFFICKING BECAUSE THATS EXACTLY WHAT THIS IS AND WHY DID WE ROMANTICIZE IT AS 13 YEAR OLDS… I cannot lie though…. I was so obsessed with those kidnapped by one direction fics on Wattpad… maybe that’s why I’m so into yandere…

Taglist (I'm so sorry): @e3ellie @yoonshiiu If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

(Y/n) woke up to the sound her alarm going off. She sat up in her very small twin bed that was in her shoe closet sized room. She stretches her tiny arms as she yawns. “(Y/N) GET DOWN HERE NOW YOU USELESS EXCUSE OF A DAUGHER” she heard mother call for her. She hopped out of bed to throw her long brown hair into a perfect messy bun, threw on the only pair of pants she had which were her light wash ripped skinny jeans and pulled her cream colored sweater on. When she got down the stairs she saw eight men she’s never seen before. Each man stared at her taken aback by her beauty. ‘How could a mother want to sell a daughter so beautiful?’ They all collectively thought “(y/n) you poor excuse for a child. I’m selling you to Ateez because I need more money for drugs.” Her mother spits as she grabs the poor girls arm and throws her to the gentlemen in front of them “B-but why?” The girl felt tears in her eyes “I just told you. I want more money for drugs and I never wanted you anyways. I was just waiting for the day I could get rid of you” The men felt their blood boiling at the words of her mother was spewing out. “Okay that’s enough. We gave you the money already. We’ll be going now” the shortest the eight says sternly to her mother before grabbing her hand gently “Why don’t we go pack your clothes and stuff” he says more gently “I uh I don’t have anything else” she says looking down ashamed. The men sigh feeling bad for what she’s had to go through “OH! Let’s go shopping!” “Oh! Wooyoung had a good idea for once” “Jongho be nice” she watches the grown men bicker amongst themselves. The one holding her hand speaks up “Let’s go and get you some new clothes jagi” she can’t help blush at the nickname.

(Y/n) didn’t know how to feel. A big part of her was very happy she didn’t have to live with that vile woman anymore but now she’ll have to live with eight strange men each one looking like they just stepped out of a GQ magazine. She noticed the glares she got as she walked around the mall with them and she couldn’t help but feel insecure “Are you okay?” She looked over to see the kindest eyes she’d ever seen “Um this just all feels so w-weird” she stutters out “I totally understand! But things can only get from here, right? I’m Seonghwa but you can call me Hwa” "OH MY GOSH GUYS! We never introduced ourselves. I'm Wooyoung, the sexy one" He says sending her a wink "I'm Mingi" "Jongho" "Yunho" "I'm San" "Hi I'm Yeosang" "And I'm Hongjoong" The short one says with a smile. She looked around already forgetting who was who, except Hongjoong "There's so many of you" "It's okay sweetheart, you'll learn very quickly" The group continued to walk through the mall and (y/n) thought that maybe this won't be so bad

[zingaplanet]

hi, i adore your blog so much. <3. what are your thoughts on the state of fedal in 2024, especially as we approach (cries) rafa's retirement at davis cup?

Ergh I missed this one sorry! Although this might be prime timing considering what just happened during the retirement. I've been wanting to be as candid on this as possible for a long time and voice what all of their fans are thinking but I'm afraid I might cause quite some pain. So forgive me lovely tennisblr, here are just my two cents:

If you ask me what their relationship is like now, I've got to say I have no idea and I think that's a v telling answer. Fed retired end of 2022 and has been busy doing insane sponsor stuff for the whole year. He still showed up at tennis stuff (e.g., for Andy at Wimbledon, etc) but we can never tell how much engagement he actually has with the players anymore. Hence, even though he mentions Rafa a lot more often than others, I think we need to take it with a grain of salt here because the media sharks are simply pouncing on every opportunity to get a story from this too.

One thing I am quite sad about tho, is how everything after the mega publicised retirement ceremony seems to be a bit too PR-stunty. I get it, the rivalry was a big thing in the tennis world but with that photo going viral and winning all sorts of awards, being used in motivational sports speeches etc - it kinda transcends tennis now. Federer and Nadal have both always been bigger than tennis, but perhaps now that they are getting the attention together, it's getting a bit much.

When they mentioned each other throughout interview snippets all year, only sometimes do we get to see what's going on behind the scenes. Other times, from my perspective, it feels sadly like they have been media briefed after the whole whirlwind about how to make this as positive a press for them as possible without revealing too much. On this, I have to say, Federer is still a maestro - I have never seen an athlete with as much PR talent as him. I work a lot in comms and he is a simple branding wet dream, he says all the right words you want to hear, the same message in many different versions of sentences, but never actually reveals what's going on. Rafa used to be much more of a trainwreck early in his career but he has improved so much with age. He still sometimes, fascinatingly, slipped up tho, and seemingly only during Spanish interviews, when he's a lot more honest. In several of the Spanish tv and radio interviews he did this year, he seemed to hint that on the one hand, Federer is the only one he still speaks to regularly in tennis, but on the other hand, he gives a strange indication that they're not as close as they used to be?

I think it's quite predictable though. After Federer retired, they were now freer to build on the friendship without any of the rivalry hurdles - but at the same time, I think they didn't realise how much the intensity of the rivalry played such a central part in what made "them" special. It's such a push-pull enemies-friends delicate line they've been mastering how to tread all these years. It could be difficult to find footing now that tennis no longer binds them, and their initial obvious differences (you know, the "calm Swiss maestro - passionate Spanish fighter" kinda narrative) begin to show again. I don't necessarily think this means they can't connect without tennis ever again, it's just a bit like your school friends. When you graduate, you no longer have that connection of going to class together or hanging out during recess - but the truest bonds always survived, and after a few rough years, your good friends are still there.

If I'm honest, I think they are at the point where they're a bit unsure what to do with one another but might be forced to play a bit of a part as the media has lumped them "the eternal rivals turned friends fairytale". I honestly feel like the media and public interests might have made it a bit awkward between them. You can see a little bit in their PR stuff - Rafa namedropping Fed a little and sometimes a bit tired when he constantly got asked about Federer in his post-match pressers recently, and Roger doing stuff like the letter. The letter is v generous, heartwarming, and such a loving tribute - and I have no doubt he wrote it himself but it's a v public thing that would've and could've landed better just being delivered in person directly? Or perhaps in a speech for him. But the whole social media stuff seems a bit fishy.

Of course we all don't know what he did or didn't do privately, the same goes to whether this is all really true or they are both just v busy dealing with a big change in their lives (Fed newly retired doing a gazillion sponsor stuff and travelling the world, Rafa dealing with a career ending injury and retirement) - they might simply not have the headspace --or even want-- the other to be such a significant part of their lives at the moment, as these two new things they are experiencing are something uniquely theirs.

The retirement ceremony is a whole other story I could write lots of paragraphs about (don't encourage me!). But I think if we learn something this year, I think it's that athletes unequivocally deserve personal space, and we should never meddle with their personal lives too much.

For the first time in their lives, they will now be fully retired, out of the limelight, able to enjoy all the things we take for granted (like travelling anonymously! or trying out restaurants in new cities)! It's what they deserved after giving us 20+ years of blood, sweat, emotion, and passion on the court and in the limelight. They both owe us nothing. I think if they both disappeared from the spotlight next year (albeit unlikely) or decided to just grow their friendship in private and never appear publicly together again - that is completely their right. We can only show them support and thank them for all the amazing things they did to make our childhood and our lives so wonderful.

[bloodsalted]

dean's not so sure about the comforting words offered. he let down the memory of his dad. let down sam. let cas down. let everyone down the minute he failed to end this by ending the weakest spot he has. his flesh and blood. even still? there's such dread welled inside him every day that he's drowning in it by the time he manages to roll out of bed and do whatever it takes to stave off the fight that is coming. one he has no choice to fight. one that he's not sure he'll be able to win. because winning means...he's lost. either way? it's fucked. isn't it? so? how can he feel like he deserves better? all he knows is he's just tired of feeling empty when it's dark and he's alone.

hands joined, dean gives in and is led directly onto the sofa beside cas. oh, he wants to bury himself inside the hollow of cas's neck. tuck away and block out the spiral that his thoughts are on. he refrains.. hard enough his chest hurts.

i'm sorry is on the tip of his tongue. ready to bleed into the next thing he says. but it's cauterized away by the heat a touch to his jaw and mouth stir inside. i'm sorry vanishes from his mind. because ... there's such a huge part of him that isn't sorry. he isn't sorry that cas is at his side. he isn't sorry that they have each other even in this mess. he isn't sorry for having cas period.

he doesn't want to let go of the last hand he's holding but is forced to when cas reaches for the bottle on the table. one that he, very gratefully, accepts the second it's offered. a swallow of the black licorice tasting liquid goes down smooth with a slight burn. he takes another long one before he's ready to let go. warm sweet fills his chest and stomach. spreads from there and he lets his head fall back against the sofa--closes his eyes and breathes, listening. dean's eyes swing open. meet cas's. and a slow grin twists onto the corners of his mouth. he cocks his head against the sofa, mussing up one side of his hair even worse than the sex did. lips press together. a pout that chases away the last tinges of dark thoughts he's got buds into sight.

"yeah.. yeah, i think we can.." but he waits for cas to initiate, not sure if he means now. or later. and he doesn't want to mess up. his mouth does find it's way into cas's palm when it's lifted to his lips. then to the delicate skin covering the blue veins on the underside of his wrist. a hum follows--indicating softness but also? now's not a bad time for that sex again idea.

                              HE LOOKS UP WHEN DEAN APPROACHES. Can't stop the sad smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. That's Dean: Being sorry for everything and everyone, as if every bad thing that has ever happened is his fault. Never sorry for the fate that's been bestowed on him. Castiel shakes his head, then reaches for Dean's hands and pulls him down on the sofa. The springs creak a little. "We all deserve so much more. You deserve so much more," he says as he puts the absinthe bottle back on the coffee table. Their bodies are touching from the knees to the hip; Dean clad in his jeans, Castiel still very much in the nude. "I hate what happened. I hate being stuck in this body and without my wings. But I don't regret being here. With you."

                               Would he do it again? Yes, definitely. As much as he hates all these overbubbling emotions that make him feel raw and exposed, he wouldn't want to go back to the cold, distant soldier of the lord he used to be. He wouldn't want to miss Dean.

                               One hand comes up, still trembling slightly. He touches Dean's stubbled jaw, a thumb brushing over the corner of Dean's mouth. Then he pulls the afghan from the backrest of the couch, not because he's embarrassed by his nudity but because he's starting to feel cold. He spreads the blanket across his lap and Dean's, leans back, and grabs the bottle of absinthe again, which he offers Dean after a hearty pull. Then, out of nowhere: "So, does this mean we'll have sex again?"

[mx-myth]

Okay so I've had some meta thoughts about Laurence's amnesia and how it relates to his relationship with Tharkay sitting in my drafts for like over a year now so I figured I'd finally clean it up and post it. Heads up it's really long.

Laurence finally consciously realises that he loves Tharkay (or is in love with him, whatever nuance you'd like) after "knew him, and knew himself." But at this point he's completely in pieces as a person (more on this next paragraph). Post-amnesia, he's an entirely different man. Pre-Temeraire Laurence is the harshest, strictest version both of and with himself. He follows the rules to the letter, basically takes Temeraire only out of duty in the beginning, and even keeps the promise between him and Edith despite there being no formal arrangement at all. Post-Temeraire but pre-amnesia Laurence has softened. He's putting less emphasis on the rules and more on his morals (see: treason). He has more leeway but still carries that honor/duty/order with himself.

Which is why post-amnesia Laurence is the version of himself that discovers that he loves Tharkay. In the wake of losing his memories and then regaining them he's lost and unmoored. Both of his past selves are so different and therefore so distant. They're both true but it's too jarring for him - especially in his current circumstances, much less the overall war - so Laurence becomes a new person. This is Laurence at his most vulnerable, his most unguarded, who smiles more often now because he doesn't really know that he didn't smile that much before. He has two major tethers to his personhood: Temeraire and Tharkay (I hesitate to say only tethers, simply because Laurence's life isn't that small, but repeatedly these two are the ones who have had the biggest impact on his life, who have kept him going). Obviously he loves Temeraire, he's never going to stop loving Temeraire, he just isn't capable of it, but seeing Temeraire didn't bring back his memories (I can't imagine how Temeraire must have felt, meeting a version of Laurence who had never met him). Laurence loves Temeraire in the most unconditional, selfless way - to be very Greek about it, his philia. But I think when he finally comprehends how Tharkay was the catalyst behind this radical change of his self he dives into his memories again and goes over them in excruciating detail (and he was definitely doing that already, but now he's doing it with a lens exclusively focused on Tharkay). At some point he comes to the realisation that Tharkay loves him, and that he loves him, and that he's been unconsciously shoving it down every time it's surfaced (past-Laurence was saying no homo while actively homo-ing). And with the benefit of being an new version of the same person (and also some hindsight, finally), this Laurence says, I've committed treason. My country sees me as a traitor but they still need me to serve them as a tool. I lost myself once in a war (see: "what are you doing?") that's still being fought. Time is short and there's no guarantee I won't lose my memories again, that I will still be the person I am right now. What do I have to lose?

(And on some level, this Laurence thinks, what can stop me?)

He begins giving to Tharkay what Tharkay always had given to him. His acts of devotions start small (relative to Tharkay's; transporting too many ferals is obviously a little outside of what Laurence can feasibly do). He cares for Tharkay once he wakes ("have you noticed the top of your head appears likely to come off?"), he helps him eat and drink, he massages his hands once they heal, he stays with him through the nightmares that come to haunt him. And he continues doing these little things for Tharkay, hoping that he understands (he's willing to wait, Tharkay waited for him after all, and Laurence doesn't want to push him, especially as he's healing). But I think the act that hits Tharkay like, oh, it's different this time is when Laurence bargains his freedom to Napoleon. I feel like that carries unspeakable meaning for Tharkay, who was ostracized growing up and ended up never having a "permanent" home since he travelled so much. I can't imagine that he hasn't been in a similar situation before, but he's probably always been expected to weasel his way out of it without any outside help. He's trained himself out of expecting someone to help him, to care enough about him to save him. Yet part of the man who turned to treason simply so the dragons of France wouldn't die in pain lives on in this Laurence. Pre-Temeraire Laurence is rules and post-Temeraire pre-amnesia Laurence is morals, but post-amnesia Laurence is all heart. There was never a way he was going to leave Tharkay behind.

So Tharkay starts watching him. He watches Laurence continue to devote himself to him, again and again. He brings him his coat on cold days. When it rains and their scars ache he curls around his hands and rubs lotion into them. When he goes into town he always brings Tharkay back a little gift. He starts growing vegetables in the garden and he learns how to cook non-wartime foods and how to knit (because he is a man forged by war and what does one even do during peacetime when one's dragon is busy reforming the government, anyway?) and suddenly he's providing for Tharkay like never before. He looked away for one moment and suddenly Laurence's prescence and all that he does has made the manor a home.

Yet Tharkay, for years, has told himself so many times that Laurence is off-limits, untouchable, that he can love him but that there's no chance that Laurence will love him back. The only way he can love Laurence is silently, nearly from afar, and so he tried to do that. But he can't just stand by and so every time he finds himself committing a deux ex Tharkay (see: ferals, again). He understands that there's some shit Laurence needs to learn himself (and god is this series very good about character development for Laurence) but he's not going to do nothing when the man in about to die. For him it's about caring and providing for Laurence even if he doesn't know it. He learns to content himself with the knowledge that, even if nothing comes of it, he can still be by Laurence's side.

But then the amnesia plot happens (which he only learns of after all of it goes down) and suddenly there is a half-stranger wearing the skin of the man he loves (loved, he tells himself) looking at him with those familiar blue eyes filled with a completely unfamiliar emotion. He's relieved that Laurence remembers but he's said that his Laurence is gone that he's even thinking of it like that (Tharkay has a lot of anger, both at himself and others and the world). Laurence is right in front of him, he's not gone at all, but he's gone in a way that matters. But also this new Laurence is by his side all the time. He's feeding him and helping him drink and dress and he sleeps on the floor by his bedside. Tharkay is so confused because this has to be some kind of fantasy dream he's having. He must still be in the cave (and it's believable that he is, because he returns there every night in his dreams). But he isn't and he has to struggle to come to terms with this new Laurence.

So every time Laurence does something even remotely nice he hyper-analyses it and rationalizes it to himself. He deludes himself into thinking that this is normal for Laurence now. It's normal for Laurence to fuss and hen over him now; it's normal for him to smile at him with that emotion written plainly on his face that Tharkay still hasn't (refuses) to decipher. And he does this well into post-canon.

For that reason he only gets with the program when Laurence has to leave the manor (leave home) for a long while (probably with Temeraire) and suddenly Tharkay is all alone in this huge manor. He's wearing the socks Laurence knitted for him and eating food Laurence grew and walking into rooms and seeing little parts of him scattered everywhere. There's a novel he's reading left on the table by the chair he prefers in the library. There's a cookbook in the kitchen in which he's bookmarked recipes he thinks he might like. Tharkay finds a handwritten list of things they need to buy in town left out for him. He left his pillows on Tharkay's bed because he knows he likes sleeping with a ton of pillows (and they smell like him, and Tharkay pretends he doesn't bury his face in him, that he doesn't miss him while he's gone). When Tharkay wakes up in the morning he makes two cups of tea and waits for Laurence to come in from talking with Temeraire before remembering that neither of them are here (home). He expects Laurence to appear in the evenings to ask if he wants to go on a walk through the grounds with him (and he always ends up saying yes). Tharkay learns that the manor is too big for one man who has always been a little too lonely in his life.

So until Laurence returns home he plots and plans and agonizes. After a week once Laurence has come home (and the first thing he had said to him was welcome home, and Laurence had beamed at him, and it was so unbelievably natural to say it) Tharkay begins his attempts at reciprocating. He wakes up earlier so that he can brew Laurence tea so he can take it out to sit with Temeraire. He says that he cooked some of the recipes from Laurence's cookbook and insists on making them for Laurence (he had to figure out his system of marking which recipes were Laurence's favourites). He gifts him a sturdy, functional, and beautifully crafted knife to wear around the house for daily use; he specifically makes sure the knife is up to Temeraire's standards. In fact, Tharkay talks to Temeraire about everything, and Temeraire tells him, with no minced words while completely drawing his own conclusions, that it's very nice that Tharkay is asking him for his blessing, but does he really need it at this point? Haven't they been courting long enough? He's always approved of Tharkay, because he makes Laurence happy.

That's how Tharkay realises he and Laurence have been dancing around each other like shy birds, both of them subtly showing off but not making the first move. And maybe he realises that Laurence is thinking how he used to think - that it's okay as long as he can be by his side, that he doesn't need his love reciprocated (it's a very long chain of Tharkay loving Laurence, Laurence knowing Tharkay loves him and loving him back, and Tharkay loving Laurence and knowing he knows he loves him and loves him back). And of course Tharkay wasn't going to make the first move back then, and if Laurence hasn't by now, then maybe he should borrow some of Temeraire's courage.

It's something small. The words come later, given how action-forward both Laurence and Tharkay are. They don't even need words. Maybe Tharkay takes Laurence's hand during dinner and intertwines their fingers, maybe he touches Laurence's cheek after he's braided his hair as their eyes meet in the mirror, maybe as they pack away the port and piquet he kisses him good night. Whatever it is, they look at each other and simply know. Tharkay sees Laurence slowly start to smile, a huge one that spreads across his entire face, one that he's only seen on Laurence when he thinks he's alone with Temeraire. He seems to brighten, almost radiating light.

For his part, Laurence reciprocates. He squeezes Tharkay's hand, he turns his cheek into Tharkay's touch, he pulls him in for another kiss. He watches as something seems to drop from Tharkay, something that he hadn't even known he was carrying. He becomes loose and relaxed, his body language more open as he looks at Laurence with one of his little smiles, a bit of shyness that he's never seen before evident on his face. He tells Tharkay that he's the most beautiful person he's ever seen.