#final moodboard of this fic 🥰🥰

[alexturne]

moodboard for my fic "you've got control of everyone's eyes (including mine)"

pt. 5/5

[foreignjaykay]

company (a jungkook fic)

part one - "you wish i'd miss you,"

company - a jungkook fic

can we keep each other company?

their workplace was chaos, but jungkook made it fun. their camaraderie was effortless—until he decided to leave. no big deal. people quit all the time. so why does it feel like everything is about to change?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: r18+ (angst, fluff) minors do not interact!

chapter warnings/misc: workplace!au, coworkers!au, event planner!jk, event planner!oc, jk is not famous, angst, fluff, sad, crack, event planner!mingyu, bts in event planning company, unserious friend group, they are so silly and unserious, mean boss - yeah no she sucks, ANGST, IDIOTS both of them, yeah i guess thats it...for now hehe

notes: hello everyone!!! hehe its my first fic on tumblr and my first ever jk fic so i really hope you guys like it. im writing after so many years so please ignore mistakes eh. its kinda based on my personal experiences. things will only get interesting as this fic progresses.. lots of new characters will come in the next chapter! this fic will honestly pick up its pace from the second chapter!! anywho lets get into it!! <3

moodboard • playlist • series masterlist

The first thing you saw when you unlocked your phone this morning was a text from Jungkook. That in itself was weird—he wasn’t the type to be up this early, let alone texting people.

jaykay (work) [8:50am]: hi :)

you [8:50am]: oh my god. what did you forget?

jaykay (work)  [8:51am]: have some faith in me. i was texting for something entirely different. 😒

you[8:51am]: are you sick? held hostage? blink twice if you need help.

jaykay (work) [8:52am]: how da hell are u so dramatic in the morning

you [8:52am]: come to the point jungkook

jaykay [8:52am]: fine. 🙄 don’t bring lunch today

you [8:53am]: why?

jaykay (work) [8:53am]: lunch is on me. taking you, shane and mingyu out for ramen

you [8:53am]: 🤨🤨🤨

jaykay (work) [8:54am]: see you in office🥰

You squinted at the screen, trying to process the words through your morning haze. This man barely made it to work before noon on most days, always breezing in with an iced americano and a sheepish grin. And yet here he was, awake and making lunch plans at 9 AM? Suspicious. Very suspicious.

It’s fixed, you know? Him being late to work, getting sarcastic remarks from the bosses - Natasha, the reporting manager (god did she love micromanaging the team) and Kim Song, the director of your company.

But whatever, free ramen was free ramen and, on that note, you finally woke up and went to get ready for the weird day that was ahead of you.

By the time you got to the office, the usual chaos had already begun. Natasha, wasn’t physically present today, thank the lord for that, you thought, but her presence loomed over Zoom calls like a dark cloud. You had barely set down her bag before her laptop screen lit up with an incoming call. Does this woman ever chill?

“Good morning, team,” Natasha’s clipped voice rang out as the screen loaded. “Let’s go over the deliverables for today.” Her screen was hidden and she was on a holiday like she had very explicitly mentioned the week before she left.

You suppressed a groan as you saw Jungkook and Mingyu joining the call too. Shane, their CS intern, looked half-asleep. Jungkook, though, was oddly quiet, his usual playful banter nowhere to be seen. His leg bounced under the desk, fingers drumming against the tabletop.

You shot him a look, but he didn’t meet your eyes.

Okay that was weird, wasn’t it?

You looked towards Mingyu and Shane to see if they noticed Jungkook being a little off today but to your surprise they were engrossed on what Natasha was instructing on the upcoming event which was the luxurious Cartier dinner.

Classic Natasha, putting her work on us while she sips on pina coladas on the beach after this 10-minute meeting. You wanted to be as carefree as her sometimes, how easily she just threw her tasks on others.

Throughout the meeting, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Jungkook which thankfully he didn’t notice.

Or at least that’s what you thought.

Jungkook knew you. He knew how curious you got sometimes and he also knew currently the wheels were turning in your head wondering why he was being so awkward. He smiled internally, thinking how much you knew him and how much he was going to miss you.

If you kept looking at him like that, he was going to crack. He just hoped you wouldn’t figure it out before he told you himself.

Once the meeting was over, you quickly went towards the design studio in the office, greeting Yuna and So-hee who seemed like had just come to office with the way they were switching on their systems for the day.

“I really need the final design renders for the stage setup and the seating plan for Cartier, Yuna,” You said worried knowing that if you don’t get these renders in next half an hour then the costing would delay and then Natasha…yeah no.

Its as if Jungkook got a sign, he entered the design studio greeting Yuna, So-hee, and Dae and standing next to you as if to ease the tension you had going on.

“Babe, give me 10 minutes, the renders are ready. I’ll email it to you, Natasha and Namjoon,” Yuna said as she started working on her system. You nodded your head and gave her a worried smile.

“Mark me in the email too,” Jungkook said instantly and you gave him a pointed look. Yuna seemed to mirror your thoughts and raised her eyebrows towards him.

Seeing that you both were confused, Jungkook chuckles and says, “__, you should be happy that I am willingly asking to be marked on emails,” which makes you roll your eyes playfully and smirk.

“Also, I don’t have nothing big going on currently, project wise, so I’ll follow up for the costings and Natasha will stay away from my ass,” Jungkook continues and laughs with Yuna, So-hee and Dae.

You looked at him as he was sort of back in his carefree self but something still felt off. You just couldn’t put your finger on what this feeling was.

Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. The second Natasha’s second call for the day wrapped up the call, you shut your laptop and turned towards Jungkook who along with Mingyu and Shane was joking and was waiting for you to get done.

“Okay, spill. What’s with the mystery since today morning?” You immediately asked him and he couldn’t help but chuckle nervously.

Mingyu slung an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, grinning. “Yeah, dude. You’re making me nervous.”

Shane, ever the observer, just raised a brow. “Is this about work? God I can’t wait to dig into some good ramen after hearing Natasha ramble since past 15 mins. 15 mins with her feel like 2 hours,” Shane continued rambling earning laughs from the three of you.

Jungkook let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s just get to lunch first.”

That didn’t help your growing suspicion, but you let it slide—at least until the 4 of you reached the ramen place.

The aroma of rich broth and sizzling garlic filled the tiny ramen shop. Shane and Mingyu were already practically vibrating with hunger, menus discarded, ready to order. You, however, were still scanning the options, your stomach rumbling in anticipation. Just as you were about to decide, you and Jungkook spoke in unison: “Japchae.”

A surprised laugh bubbled up. “You wanna have japchae too?” you asked, a little thrill of connection sparking despite the weirdness of the morning. He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, and ordered for both of you.

Minutes later, steaming bowls of ramen and the shared plate of japchae arrived. The savory scent made your mouth water. You took a tentative bite of the japchae, the noodles perfectly chewy, the vegetables crisp and flavorful. It was delicious. But Jungkook just sat there, chopsticks hovering over his bowl. He had a strange expression—not quite annoyed, but… something. You knew that look. It was his tell when food was exceptionally good. That’s just his weird trait.

You took the second bite yourself to see if it was and it was really good.

“I got another job.”

Silence.

Your stomach dropped.

Then, Mingyu blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jungkook shifted in his seat, avoiding their gazes. “I got an offer from an event company. They handle production for A-list musicians—concerts, world tours, all of it.” But you could see how proud he was. This was his dream.

“Oh, shit, that’s huge,” Shane said, eyes wide and dramatically keeping his chopsticks on the side.

Jungkook looked at you trying to gauge for your reaction.

You swallowed, gripping your chopsticks a little tighter. “Wow. That’s… incredible, Jungkook.” You said genuinely but why did it feel so off? Why did it feel like you were losing everything? People leave jobs all the time and this is no different, so why was it feeling all to different suddenly?

When you congratulated him, you meant it. You really did. He deserved this. But there was a weird, hollow feeling in your chest. Something tight that you couldn’t quite name.

Jungkook was watching you and asked, “You okay?”

You forced a smile but to everyone it looked genuine. “Of course. This is a big deal. I am so happy for you, Jungkook!” Mingyu and Shane mirrored your smile and congratulated him to which Jungkook threw an honest smile.

His eyes still lingered for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to his food. But you could tell he didn’t fully believe you.

Mingyu and Shane immediately started asking him the questions about his new company and the new job and Jungkook excitedly answered them all and you were interested too to know all the details.

Once the 4 of you were done with the lunch, you asked him, “So when are you telling Natasha?”

“Next week, and then 2 weeks’ notice,” He said looking at you as if he was trying to find an emotion out of you.

“Damn bro, you are leaving us so soon.” Shane said and you looked at Jungkook.

“Now at least I will have some proper desk space at the office,” You tried to joke which earned you a playful eye roll from Jungkook.

“Oh my god, I have to plan a farewell party for you now,” Mingyu joked and you laughed. For the whole lunch, this is the first time Jungkook noticed you genuinely smiling and it was all thanks to Mingyu’s dramatic nature.

The rest of the workday felt strangely off-balance. Even though nothing had technically changed yet, you felt the weight of the upcoming shift pressing down on you. The knowledge that soon, Jungkook wouldn’t be here anymore—wouldn’t be there to roll his eyes at Natasha’s ridiculous demands, wouldn’t be crashing at her desk with an iced coffee and a new piece of gossip, wouldn’t be around to share those unspoken glances when things got too absurd.

You had started hating how much that realization unsettled you.

It was Jungkook who got you out of your dazed thoughts when he said, “___, I have asked Namjoon hyung for the Cartier costing and he is working on it,”

You threw a sincere smile towards him and nodded while he went back on his desk and worked on some small projects he had going on.

gyu (work) [3pm]: are you okay?

Once you read the text, you immediately looked at him but he acted to be so engrossed in his work and you couldn’t help but look back into your phone and text back

you [3:01pm]: yeah, why?

gyu (work) [3:01pm]: you sure about that? ever since jk dropped that bomb, you have been quiet and so has he.

That got your attention. Were you that obvious?

you [3:02pm]: no nothing like that. im happy that he got this. he deserves it!! also when is the blue label bottle engraving costing going to the client? natasha has been on my ass about it since morning. send it asap please <33

gyu [3:03pm]: girl i gotta give it to you, nice attempt to change the convo but we aren’t done yet. ugh why are you my senior? im sending it in 5

By the time the day ended and finally the costings for Cartier had gone out (thanks to Jungkook and Joon), you had convinced yourself you were just being dramatic. People left jobs all the time. This wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

Mingyu and Shane had already left for the day and the design studio was also empty leaving only you and Jungkook in the client servicing department. For a Monday, people had left earlier than usual, you thought to yourself.

You looked at the clock and saw it was 7pm already.

While you packed your bags, like routine, Jungkook waited for you. He dropped you home everyday given that you both lived nearby and your apartment came on the way to his.

However, the silence between the two of you felt heavier than usual.

“You’re quiet,” he finally said as the two of you entered the elevator.

You forced a laugh and adjusted your purse, trying to look anywhere but at him. “So are you.”

The two of you exited the elevator and sat in his car, he started the engine. For the first time ever, the silence between the two of you was uncomfortable.

Jungkook sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he took the familiar route and said, “Are you really happy for me?”

You immediately turned to look at him, meeting his gaze in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Yes, I am. Why would you think I am not?”

His smile was small, a little sad. “Alright. You and I haven’t spoken much since lunch,”

You didn’t know why, but something in your chest ached at that. But you ignored it,  and looking towards and giving him a smile and said, “Jungkook, I am so happy for you. I am. I know you wanted this and now you have it,”

For the first time in the whole day, he smiled genuinely at you.

“Will you miss me?,” He asked as he stopped the car right out of your apartment and looked at you with his doe eyes that carry the sta-

Wait what?!

You ignored whatever that thought was and quickly composed yourself and laughed at him. “You wish I would miss you,” You joked playfully and he rolled his eyes.

“On a serious note, yes I will. Who will I tolerate Natasha with?” You continued and he let out a small chuckle.

“Anyway I have to go. See you tomorrow boss,” you finally said, and then you were gone, disappearing into the building.

Jungkook sat there for a moment, staring after you.

He knew you better than you thought. He knew when you were genuinely happy, when you were just pretending, when you were holding back something you didn’t want to say. And tonight, you were definitely holding back.

Jungkook sighed, leaning his head back against the car seat. Leaving this job was supposed to be exciting, a step up, an opportunity of a lifetime. And it was.

But why did it feel like he was losing something, too?

part 2

© foreignjaykay

[604to647]

Toot-toot, Beep-beep

As is my style, squeaking in last minute to take part in @jolapeno's brilliant idea to encourage people to toot their own work; while I still feel very shy about my writing, I can't help but be heartened by the lovely interactions and kind encouragement I've received this past year - so Imma gonna give it a go! Thank you for the tags @aurorawritestoescape @joelmillerisapunk @milla-frenchy @evolnoomym @sawymredfox

@iamasaddie @sanarsi @greenwitchfromthewoods it was wonderful to read your lists, revisit some old favourites and grow my tbr 🥰🥰😘

One-Shots

Emily never met a fic she couldn't turn into a series, but once in a while she tries to contain herself:

What Was I Made For (Frankenstein AU Tim Rockford; Tim is our titular "Creature" but there is nothing monstrous about him. I cried while writing this!!!! 😭😭)

Photocopies (S1/S2 Narcos Javier Pena; does it still count as a one-shot if it's a follow-up to a one-shot I wrote the year before? And if I plan on writing more "one-shots" for the same couple? Another angsty one for these two as they're kept apart by Javi's poor decisions and dumb [affectionate] self-sacrificing nature 😔)

Instalment of Series

I write mostly series, so here are a few chapters from last year that I'm proud of:

Ch. 19 The Betrayal from Safest with You (Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer Din Djarin; this is my first and longest running series - my baby 🥹. With this chapter I finally wrote that scene; you know the one you think up originally and end up building an entire story/series around?)

Hold On from The Rockford Portfolio (I will always think of this Tim Rockford fic fondly because it was born from such a fun, spontaneous coming together of the community after @mrsmando asked which Pboi is a Tiddy Guy, and together, we forever cemented Detective Rockford as a Boob Man).

Ch. 2 - White Chocolate Macadamia from Mi Galleta (Modern AU Pero Tovar; I spend a lot of time pouring over bike diagrams, biker images and biker Tiktoks for this chapter where we give our scary bouncer a sports bike. It was really hard work 🤭 Also, Protective!Pero 🥹)

Part 1 of Strawberry Shortcake (Frankie Morales goes to a strip club and falls in love with a cocktail waitress; this one came out of nowhere and was mainly vibes, but I love it. When I wrote it I knew I was leaving it on a cliffhanger, but had no idea where I was going to take it [Narrator: she took it to 22K words in total])

Smut

Having only started writing in 2023, this was an area of major insecurity for me! So, this year we practiced, practiced, practiced:

Ch. 16 The Match-up from Safest with You (Baby's first sex tape; Modern AU Din Djarin)

The Detective and the Agent (Baby's first threesome; Tim Rockford + Marcus Pike)

At First Light (Baby's first somno; Tim Rockford)

Paperwork (Baby's first cockwarming; Tim Rockford)

Challenges

I think Jo also said recently that writing can often be a lonely activity, solitary in nature. Whenever someone hosts a challenge or writing/fandom event, it goes such a long way towards alleviating this loneliness, pulling us out of our isolation - it's really so, so nice. People who host, you're gems 🥹

Agent Hephaestus (Pedro Pantheon hosted by beskarandblasters; an allegorical telling of Agent Marcus Pike as Hephaestus. The hardest thing I ever wrote! At one point, I printed this out and edited it old school style, literal pen on paper😂😂)

Dance for me (Mootboards and minifics hosted by @yopossum. Such a fun idea and remains the prettiest moodboard on my blog 😍 Happy to be able to give Detective Tim Rockford a silly detective case plot [my favourite fiction genre to read] and patting myself on the back for adding a few Strawberry Shortcake easter eggs as well 🤭)

Brandy by the Fireplace (Trope-off hosted by @auteurdelabre. The trope I chose was "Fish out of Water" so naturally, we had to go with Frankie Morales. Self proclaimed City girls and anxious girls [gn], I hope this one speaks to you. I've never disclosed this before, but this one is inspired by true events 😭😂).

The Might of the Realm (The Glandolorian challenge hosted by @beefrobeefcal. My first love, husband, Din Djarin in a canon compliant post-S3 story that fits into an AU that has been living in my mind rent free since that last season ended. Maybe I'll write more for them, because as stated before - Emily never met a one-shot she could leave alone 😂)

Hidden Gem

Dodge (Vigilante AU Javier Pena, aka what happens when Emily thinks of a way to write that Daredevil fic that's been rattling around in her brain since 2018. This is really unlike anything else I've written - I'm a big Marvel fan, but probably won't ever write MCU fic [I do read a fair bit though!] so I'm proud of the way I was able to weave story elements from two of my fave fandoms together. If you read it, a) um I love you and b) tell me if you're also a Daredevil fan and if you're getting those vibes 🥹🥹)

No tags because I'm so late but please do share and toot yourself if you're so inclined! Thank you all for visiting me this past year - your support has helped me so much, I can't even tell you; I would never be able to toot myself without your kindness. Love you lots! Here's for more to toot in 2025! 🥂🥂

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘

[lilacella]

Would you do a moodboard of the chaos amnesia au? 👀☺️ I'm waiting for the next part

Hello hello, we are finally at a point in the plot where making a moodboard makes sense! So here you go!

Also. Have

Part 8 of the Chaos Amnesia AU:

(Part 1) (Link to last part)

"Who are you?"

That's a tough question to answer.

The men that you lied to for the past 10 months? Your best friend and your loving boyfriend, that were horrified when they found out about what you have done in the past but still love you very much?

"Who am I ?"

An even harder question to answer. Because do James and Remus even know who Sirius is? Who he really is? And most importantly: Do they want him to know?

"You're Sirius," is what they settle on.

Sirius frowns. Weird name.

"What am I doing in your car?" He touches the bandages on his head. "What happened to me?"

"We were on a hike," Remus says quietly. "You fell. Knocked your head. Don't you remember?"

Sirius frowns deeper and he drops back into his seat.

"No."

James shoots Remus a look.

You lied.

So what?

They drive the rest of the way in silence. Except that one time Sirius asks if they shouldn't drive to a hospital.

"Lily will take care of that," James says. "It's easier, you won't have to wait in line."

[Little Jily background excursion at this point becaue this isn't a fic and basically just an elaborate plotline so I can do whatever the fuck I want 🥳:

James is, as stated before, a police detective inspector and Lily is a trauma surgeon at the local hospital. Since James is such a daring officer of course he gets injured a lot and Lily has to patch him up. James keeps flirting with her but she barely responds though you can tell she likes him ☺️

Patient doctor relationships are greatly discouraged and so she has to wait for James to get just a little bit more careful until she can herself show up at the police station and ask him out for lunch. James is of course overjoyed. The rest is history 🥰]

They arrive and lead Sirius' into the Potter's house. It is late at night, Harry is long asleep, Remus is hiding a gun in the inside pocket of his jacket and sweating profusely.

Lily is less than happy when her husband wakes her up, shirt torn and eyes wide, with the words: "I need you to check a headwound for me."

Her mood lightens a bit when it becomes apparent that the headwound is not on James but drops straight back down when he informs her in a worried whisper that it has been caused by a gun. And that Sirius doesn't remember anything. And that him and Remus want to keep it that way.

Lily isn't entirely onboard with that plan but her focus is on her patient right now. She sends James to fetch her bag and takes a look at the wound. After a short inspection she instructs Sirius to lie down, adminsters some local anesthesia and tells him to close his eyes.

Why that? Well, so he won't see the fucking bullet that has somehow managed to wedge itself into the cavity of his temple but by pure luck did not manage to break anything vital.

[Disclaimer: this is highly unrealistic and even a seasoned and talented trauma surgeon would not pull a fucking bullet out of your skull on their couch. There is so much that could go wrong. Bullets in the head are definitely a hospital thing!

But we are here for the chaos not for a sensible medical education so I will proceed]

Lily drops the bullet discreetly into Remus' palm (that poor guy really has to hold on to all the terrible stuff 😭 ) and he drops it into his pocket with trembling fingers. It clinks quietly against the two keychains that are resting in there.

"Is it bad?" Sirius asks.

"No."

He opens his eyes. "Really? Are you sure I shouldn't go to a hospital? I feel like we should go to a hospital..."

Lily presses a bandage on his head and shakes her head with a firm smile. "No need, I've got this. So... James said you were having some... memory issues?"

"Who's James?"

The three look at eachother.

Sirius sits up slowly and brushes his fingers over the gauze on his temple and eyes them with worry. "I really should go home. My father's going to kill me when he finds out that I have been hiking around with - " He frowns again - "Sorry I'm still not quite clear on who you are. Do you know my parents?"

tbc...

☺️ Look this is called chaos amnesia for a reason! So be prepared for chaos and amnesia!

[agentpeggycartering]

I'd love to know more about 1. in which buck is a chaotic menace (aka nora verse)

Hello!! So sorry this took me so long. I was hoping that I could get some writing or editing done this week so I could have a snippet for you but I wasn't able to get anything together. This is my beloved Nora Verse, my bucktommy mpreg, didn't know I was pregnant fic. I shared snippets and headcanons here, here, and here and you can read everything I've shared not just for this game but in general here.

Fear not. I'm not coming empty handed! @quintessenceofdust88 tagged me in a moodboard game last week and I finally finished mine, so that's what I'm sharing with you tonight. 🥰

[nerdieforpedro]

One small step for man…

One giant leap for Dieter Bravo

Based on this Moodboard created by the wonderful @secretelephanttattoo that she made for the Get Dieter Sober event to celebrate @bitchesuntitled ‘s milestone! 😎 ❤️

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: The only thing that can motivate Dieter Bravo better than sex or an interesting script is a grudge. Who cares if we’re talking about space? If Bravo can finally one-up Leonardo DiCaprio, he’ll take his chance, no matter the effort. Turns out it was good for him in the long run.

Warnings: Nerdie style bad humor, various celebrity mentions, no specified ages for Edna and Fred but assume they’re sixty-five and over for the plot, a goat (because when I write Dieter, 8/10 times he will have a goat), space?, DiCaprio slander and implied drug and sexual activity just not in detail, also BBQ.

Word Count: a little under 1.3k

Notes: El suggested that a crack fic should be written and leave it to a five hour plane ride for inspiration 🤣 So here we are. She did look it over and laughed so that’s really all it took for me to post it. 🥰 There’s no reader, just two OCs Edna and Fred who are living the life we want to live honestly.

Main Masterlist/ Dieter Bravo Masterlist/ AO3 Link

The only time Dieter Bravo thought of space is when he would stare up at the stars naked with only his fluffy grey robe on and yellow crocs on in his backyard. It’s normally when he needs to take five from whatever party/orgy/gathering/sex toy exchange he’s decided to have this week.

There had been a recent announcement that NASA was looking for Oscar winners to sent into space to not only find a new planet for earthlings to live but also negotiate and exchange information with any extraterrestrials they may come across. Given the deceptive skills and adaptive vibes actors have, there a buzz about who may be selected to fly out into unknown reaches with a crew of astronauts. Hallie Berry and Jamie Lee Curtis had already been selected and for men, there was one slot left as (insert some dude’s name) was announced. There were still six months left and more male Oscar winners were throwing their hat into the ring.

One name irked Dieter beyond all reason given that he actually a nice guy, but Bravo deserves it more than him: Leonardo DiCaprio. Doesn’t matter that he’s a stalwart advocate of green policies and climate change. Dieter should have been able to be in ‘The Wolf of Wall Street.’ It was basically written for him and the life he lives now. Though peering back at his home, he’s going to have to give this up for a while if he wants to be considers for the program. Leo only have to give up the liquor and twenty-five year olds. Dieter’s got to give up his wide array of drugs, though since he’s fine with men and women of all legal ages old and younger, he can just let the older women and men come at him. That one lady Edna pops her teeth out and hoo boy does she do some things with those gums. Fred is one guy who knows about those gams and if you know, you know. There’s always his trustworthy emotional support goat Cookie who’s white with black spots who gave a strong “baa!” When asked if he should give it a shot.

After the night’s festivities and clean up the next day, Dieter informs his team of his plan. They are shocked somewhat, they’re aware of his one-sided grudge and if it will motivate him off the drugs, they’re willing to lean all the way in. To ensure Bravo’s success, they do a through sweep of all his homes, cars and vacation spots. They also limit his contacts and ask Edna and Fred to stay with Dieter. They’re sure that the three of them are ducking but Dieter’s also learning some chess, shuffleboard, bingo, dominoes and some mandarin from Edna’s husband, rest his sweet soul. Cookie nibbled on everyone’s ankles and stayed looking cute as is her role.

It’s announced the next month that Dieter Bravo is going for the last Oscar space on the Galactic Noah’s Ark. Most think the choice is insane and mock in relentlessly but as time marches on, Dieter gains more supporters as he’s looking and feeling better. He also gets a lot of retirees and AARP members on his side as his two housemates interview with their magizine under the guidance of Dieter’s media team.

There’s memes, TikToks, interviews and a cribs episode showing off Dieter’s new healthy lifestyle and feature his two friends Edna and Fred. Edna is sunbathing naked and it had to be blurred out entirely but was still aired surprisingly. It was touted as support for not only all body types but representing older women who are just living life. Fred was cooking up some barbeque on a grill in his plaid shorts and orange sherbert polo shirt with dress shows on and a kiss the chef apron on. He told the interview that it’s been pretty cool getting to know Dieter over the years and that he had enough hair on his chest for the both of them. It garnered a laugh and they were asked what their families thought of them being in a throple with Doeter Bravo. Edna said it was pretty fun and she’d raised her children so it was her time. She should spend the twilight of her years, doing what she wants to do and then doing Dieter. She then called him a “nice young man who’s a cutie patootie.” Cookie let out a loud “baa!” As if to agree and went to eat some grass.

There were some that had an issue with the throple aspect saying that such a lifestyle should be sent into space, but it was argued that since Dieter was rather fluid in his sexuality it should bode well for communicating with other life forms. Debates continued while Dieter kept clean, worked with Paul Mesal and his trainer to get stronger and in better shape. The speculation was that maybe Paul was now added to the throple making it a square, and as many pundits called Edna ‘the luckiest damn woman on earth.’ Paul said that he’d love to be cool enough to be in the throple but when he’s stopped by and saw both Hallie Berry and Adria Arijona there, he said that he didn’t stand a chance. The two women were just there to visit Dieter as they’d worked with him on previous projects which their reps seconded. They did stay for a week though but mainly just to meet Edna and Fred who they thought were so amazing.

Paul visited again with Denzel Washington, his wife Pauletta who Bravo normally has tea with and it turns out Edna knows Pauletta from their old sorority. Public opinion was turning in Dieter’s favor as Leo was keeping a low profile. Well outside of breaking up with his girlfriend on her twenty-sixth birthday. That didn’t go over well.

The deadline was approaching for who would be selected out of the two men so the media decided they should have a sit down. It was to fill air time but Dieter Bravo was looking forward to it. He felt stronger, a little leaner but given the barebeque Fred cooks up and sweets Edna makes, he still has small belly. DiCaprio looks lean but has bags under his eyes from sleeping alone without his girlfriend and only his Oscar in the bed.

Both men were ask questions about what they would do if they encountered aliens, what to do to get along with fellow crew members, what they might eat in space, how they would establish and keep good vibes going and what kind of planet would they want to live on. The questions were going fine until Leonardo said that he felt sick during the sit down and had to go to the hospital. Given that he was so sick from not sleeping, it looked as though Dieter was the clear winner and was announced as such a week later.

Dieter Bravo is going into space over that pretentious prick!

A celebration party with sparkling wine, kool-aid, Edna’s sweet potatoes, Fred’s smoked pork shoulder and some Mac and cheese brought over by the Washingtons is has that evening. Did Dieter ever expect to be sober? No, but he didn’t expect it to be this full with friends either.

The Oscar winner is once again standing in his backyard while festivities occur inside, though they’re calmer and full of laughter instead of groans and sweaty bodies. He’s fully clothed, in his crocs, brown pijama pants and t-shirt holding Cookie and petting her. “I did it girl. I’m clear as a bell and going to space. I wonder of they probe or have tentacles. Who knows? But I’m going to find out. May the vibes be with us Cookie.”

May the vibes be with everyone but especially the following 😘:

@morallyinept @schnarfer @chronically-ghosted @sp00kymulderr @covetyou

@yopossum @whocaresstillthelouvre @toomanytookas @beefrobeefcal @trulybetty

@sin-djarin @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @604to647 @chaithetics

@inept-the-magnificent @djarinmuse @sunshinehaze1 @lotusbxtch @yorksgirl

@westside-rot @maggiemayhemnj @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @readingiskeepingmegoing

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @tinytinymenace @yorksgirl

[everythingfivesoka]

💙 Fivesoka Event Wrap-Up 🧡

The first thing I want to say is thank you so much to everyone who participated, whether by creating something, enjoying the content, and/or reblogging!

I’m still astounded at how much participation this event got! Speaking of which, if you have something you’d like to submit late, please do!

As of now, we’ve had: 10 people create for the event and 13 creations total! These consisted of 3 multi-chapter fics, 3 oneshots, 1 quote edit, 3 drawings, 2 moodboards, and 1 stimboard. I love how much variety there was and how much more Fivesoka content there is now! 😍

Speaking of multi-chapter fics, the 3 fics below are still ongoing, so definitely bookmark/subscribe on AO3 or keep an eye out on this page for updates.

Rule Five (M) by @tealmisthams - modern AU, angst, mutual pining, prompt: “benefits”

Return to Sender (T) by @aknightreaderr - crack, humor, prompts: “love letters” and “You call that a plan?”

Where You Go, I Go (T) by @queen-of-mandalore - angst, romance

You can find all of the creations for the event HERE, on the day-of event post. Now that the event is over, I’ll be working on a Fivesoka Masterlist, which will include all of the event content, as well as other Fivesoka content.

This is the first big event that I’ve ever hosted, so I’d love to hear your feedback. Also, I created a poll to see what people think in terms of future events. Please vote on that HERE.

As someone who loves Fivesoka so so much, this was an incredible day for me! Also, thank you so much for the birthday wishes. My birthday isn’t until next week, but it’s already been one of the best birthdays I’ve had in a while. 🥰

I really appreciate you guys and I can’t wait to share more of my Fivesoka content with you and hopefully see more of yours. If anyone ever has questions or wants to talk Fivesoka, drop me a message or an ask! Thanks again! 💙🧡

~ Misty 💙

One final question…

Dividers by @ahsokathegray

Thanks again for sharing your creations with us! @aknightreaderr @queen-of-mandalore @clones-stimblrr @ladylucksrogue @marvelfulcrum8108 @cyarikacyare @solodoodles @snarkyfina

Also tagging @snips2112 @julijuli77

[thosewickedlovelies]

Anything That Shined: part 5

The Thief x Heroic!F!Reader x Marcus Moreno

Rating: T for Teen

Summary: The thief decides its the perfect time to throw a party, so you and Marcus suit up

Tags: friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, eventual threesomething; ~sexual tension~, the inner monologues are getting spicy (but are they self-aware? not yet); spot the PPCU characters

Word count: 10,719 (lmao???)

Note: Apparently it’s been THREE YEARS since I updated this fic??? ("I’ve abandoned my boy!") I’m deeply sorry, but in my defense, I did start several new stories (which I have also not finished). Hey ho. As atonement, I’ve finally made a masterlist and a moodboard for this story, for your convenience and pleasure 😌🥰

Fun fact, this chapter contains one of the scenes, yknow, one of the original scenes that i wrote for this story that i then had to build the rest of the series around 👀 a big ole smooch for anyone who guesses which one it was

As per, the wonderful art is by @patternedlantern

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“Is that…Kermit the frog on your shirt?” Doc addresses Binary almost warily, as if afraid the answer will be a joke he won’t enjoy hearing.

Binary stretches herself into a graceful recline on a full-length pool chair, dropping her recently removed hoodie on the chair adjacent. “You know it, Doc. The icon himself.” The cropped hem of her graphic tee, depicting a glamor shot of one famous green puppet, rides up slightly above her leggings.

“I’m surprised you know who Kermit is, Doc. When was the last time you watched Saturday morning cartoons?” Deven drops himself at the neighboring table and pulls his hair free of its bun, setting loose a cascade of curls frizzy with sweat. In the midday sun flooding through the glass ceiling, they glint like Binary’s copper wire.

Doc casts Deven a withering look over the table between them. “The Muppets are quite literally older than both of us, Deven.”

“And the Muppets are hardly kiddy cartoons,” you point out. “Kermit is a pop culture icon for a reason. They’re universal.”

Doc gives you a nod of thanks. Your eyes crinkle in response as you shuffle into the row of pool chairs. The chair past the one holding Binary’s hoodie has a plush towel draped over the back, as they all do, in the same jewel-bright shade of aquamarine as the pool water. The glassy surface of it stretches away in a reflection of the greenhouse-like ceiling above. The air is damp and fragranced by trees and greenery bordering the room.

“Exactly.” Bellows chips in in agreement. “Plus, some of their humor is very adult-oriented. That sketch where Beaker and the doctor guy appear wearing each other’s clothes? With no explanation? Very naughty.” He leaves a gap between your chair and his so that Marcus, following him, can sit next to you. 

Marcus sits on your chair instead, and props his foot up on the spare one to untie his boots, mirroring you with your foot on Binary’s spare chair. You lean your back against his, feeling his thin t-shirt damp with sweat and the muscles beneath still warm with exertion.

Both of you are now more in the habit of the casual touching required to sustain your fake relationship. Your current contact is more weariness then affection, however, following a long stint in the mansion’s new training arena. The thief was absent for some reason, but everyone else joined, and someone had suggested relaxing afterward in the indoor pool- still another feature of the mansion you and Marcus had yet to discover.

“Aw, I always liked Beaker and his little meeps. Doesn’t his doctor boyfriend have a funny name?” Seams plops down on the chair between Marcus and Bellows.

Marcus says nothing, only withdraws his foot, but you feel him tense. Despite the nature of your game, he doesn’t like being forced into such positions. Briefly you place a reassuring palm on his shoulder, then shift away slightly to the end of the chair. 

Ever a gentleman, Marcus still responds to Seams’s query. “Dr. Bunsen,” he supplies.

You raise an eyebrow. Marcus spreads his hands in a shrug. “What? They’re universal,” he teases. “Plus, Missy went through a phase for awhile.” His voice drops slightly- he doesn’t like mentioning Missy in front of the others, as if scared to remind them of her existence. 

“That’s it! Bunsen and Beaker.” The nostalgia in Seams’s smile lends an unexpected sweetness to her face. 

An impression which is shattered by her subsequent hair toss and the appraising look she angles at Binary’s shirt. “But obviously Miss Piggy will always be number one.”

Ezra speaks up for the first time, appearing thoroughly- and uncharacteristically- bewildered. “What on earth are you all talkin’ about?” 

A long pale body suddenly leaps over the pool, limbs splayed and hair a trail of flame. 

Nobody ducks in time. 

Water spatters your face and clothes, and Marcus catches you when you reflexively flinch backward. His hands are twin suns on your hip and shoulder. Your own sunlight rises to meet his touch, quickly suffusing your whole body with warmth. Instinctively you duck your head from him. No, wait, you’re supposed to be reacting. Flustered now, you reach for a flirtatious expression, quirking your lips up and glancing meaningfully between Marcus’s hand and his face. 

Marcus’s own smile looks forced, but he gives your shoulder a quick squeeze. The two of you may have worked out the physical contact, but managing your faces has proven more of a challenge.

Laughter and complaints echo through the open space. Clicking her tongue, Binary shakes out her formerly dry hoodie and hangs it over the back of the chair in place of the towel.

“What? You were all going to get in anyway.” Deven’s hair is plastered to his head now, the red gleam doused to brown. Water drips from the small gold hoop in his left ear. He’d jumped right in in his gym shorts, although, according to Seams, there were lockers full of swimsuits for guests, and to spare anyone here the effort of having to go their rooms to change first.

Bellows’s chest swells. A breath later, a burst of water slaps Deven in the face. The Irishman splutters.

Sniggering, Bellows strips off his shirt, and you can’t help but raise an eyebrow. A thick dusting of dark hair doesn’t disguise the shape of the muscles beneath, filling out his narrow frame. All that breath control must be a constant ab workout. 

Marcus and Doc remain on dry land, but everyone else follows Deven in varying degrees of clothedness. You leave your leggings on- the wet spandex will be annoying to peel off later, but you’re not quite sure you’re ready to hang out with these people in your underwear. Nerea gives you a welcoming smile as you follow them in.

Water warm as a bath envelopes you, yet it’s still refreshing, buoying your stiff muscles and sore feet. The acrid tang of chlorine is pleasantly absent. Everyone drifts peacefully for a moment, soaking it in, floating instinctively toward a wide patch of sunlight. 

You turn to Ezra, determined to revisit his earlier question. “Did you say you don’t know who the Muppets are, Ezra?”

Water trickles down the pilot’s face, making islands of his freckles. “I keep hearing that word without the foggiest understandin’ of it, so that is indeed the sentiment I mean to express.” His eyes crinkle with amusement. “Would you care to enlighten me, starshine?”

Of course, you don’t manage to be Ezra’s sole teacher, as a clamor of disbelief immediately erupts. 

“Oh, I think I know these! The little blue one was my favorite- Grober?” Nerea’s accent throws you for a second, as does the name.

Bellows understands first. “Oh, Grover! Like from Sesame Street.” You all ohhh as if on cue. “He’s from a different show, technically,” Bell explains through the resulting giggles. “But they’re basically cousins.”

“We should have a movie night tonight,” Seams declares. “To properly acquaint Nerea and Ezra with the cultural phenomenon that is the Muppets.” She nudges the man beside her. “You’re not busy tonight, are you, Ez?” Seams tilts her head at him, a glint in her eye. She doesn’t say it like a question. 

Ezra, studying the way the water laps at the crevice between her breasts in a sports bra, takes his time lifting his gaze. It peruses the wet cling of blond hair to her neck, the roundness of her cheeks, with a lazy, leisurely privilege.

Finally his dark eyes catch her paler ones. “Not half as busy as I suspect I will be, spell-weaver.” Ezra’s voice is a low croon.

Something about their exchange makes you glance at Marcus. He’s looking at Ezra, as if captured by the other man’s tone. In the next second his gaze flicks to you; and then away, shuttering. 

“Well, that was something none of us wanted to hear.” Bellows interjects loudly, clapping his hands together to redirect everyone’s attention. “So, movie night! The normal place and time?”

Amid nods of agreement, Bell catches the uncertain glance between you and Marcus. “I’ll swing by your guys’ room and walk you,” he promises. 

--

Which in the end you’re very grateful for, because of course the ‘normal place’ happens to be a separate home theater, and of course you’re forced to admit you never would have found it on your own.

The problem is that all of these incredible things are hidden behind totally normal doors, you muse. There was not the slightest hint outside that this door contained what it did: 

A collection of mismatched couches and a projector facing a bare wall. Red velvet curtains lining the rest of the room. An impromptu kitchen consisting of a tabletop popcorn machine, cabinets filled with snacks, and a refrigerator stacked with drinks.

You’re instantly enamored by the cozy arrangement. “It’s a lot more…low-budget than I expected,” you confess.

Bellows laughs. “Oh, this isn’t the real home theater. Teo has a real setup down the hall, but we mostly only use that for new films. Or ones that deserve the respect of a giant screen and proper sound system.”

“Like Lord of the Rings?” Seams, passing you, snorts. She carries a bottle of white wine and a crinkly black bag depicting something that looks like seaweed chips.

Bell goes on the defensive at once. “When it’s the extended editions, absolutely!”

“Whatever,” Seams sing-songs, making her way to a couch. “All I’m saying is, if I have to sit through something four hours long, I at least want to be able to stretch out.”

Marcus has been silent thus far, the frown between his brows steadily deepening the more he hears of the thief’s excesses. At Seams’s statement, he snorts. 

You and Bell send him curious looks.

Marcus coughs slightly. “Well, they were really long,” he says sheepishly.

Bellows sniffs.

You and Marcus end up on a couch next to one holding Seams…and Ezra. Despite the latter’s unfamiliarity with the Muppets, and the former’s insistence that he become acquainted, she doesn’t seem to be demanding he paying very close attention.

Ezra’s husky tones drift over, and you shift uneasily. Obviously you and Marcus should be taking advantage of the environment to further rumors of your relationship- ie, snuggle or something. The only light besides the movie screen is a lamp in the kitchen space at the back of the room, and dimness wraps around you with an intimate familiarity, urging you to sit closer to him. Any other couple would happily curl up together, giggling furtively, turning the couch into their own little world. 

Marcus leans over, his lips almost touching your ear, and you freeze. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to break your ‘sitting on my lap’ rule?” he murmurs.

You almost burst out laughing. Your shoulders shake with it, one hand covering your mouth to keep it in. Still snickering, you elbow him.

Marcus’s eyes glimmer with amusement, his face still close to yours. Pleased, he continues in a whisper. “Seriously, though. Can I..?” He lifts his arm to indicate putting it around you. 

Affection for him warms your chest. You lick your lips nervously, but nod. A bit in disbelief, you scooch to your right, settling Marcus’s arm over your shoulders. Just for a second, your skin brightens gold, sunlight like a bioluminescent wave rushing up the shore.

You take a deep breath, willing the light to subside, keeping your face turned firmly toward the screen.

Marcus’s reaction, then, is outside your field of vision. The downward tilt of his eyes, the way his face softens at this manifestation of your powers.

Like fireflies, he thinks.

Those tiny blooms which appear at dusk. Insubstantial at first, little more than yellow flickers in the corner of your eye…until their glowing fills the darkness.

It reminds him of Missy’s childhood. Sitting on the porch on hot summer nights, watching the silhouette of her curls bobbing as she chased fireflies through the twilit backyard. Tiny hands clapping wildly until she learned that smooth, patient motions were more effective. 

Marina sitting beside him.

The thought of her doesn’t perturb him the way he thought he would. Somehow, Marcus thinks, I have a feeling she would find this whole situation very funny.

The thought warms him: that Marina would giggle to see the stiff, careful posture with which you sit under his arm. How cautious Marcus himself always is when touching you.

You know how to woo a girl better than that, Moreno.

Of course, he’s not wooing you for real, but…

Marcus tugs you toward him slightly.

You look at him in uncertainty, and then surprise. A fond smile turns up his mouth and the corners of his eyes- the most genuine smile he’s worn since arriving at the mansion. Marcus tugs on your shoulder again, and pats his leg with his other hand. A clear invitation. 

So you scoot closer, hesitantly nestling into his side. Gently Marcus takes your right arm and rests it on his thigh, guiding you into a more natural position. He leans back against the couch, clearly relaxed. 

Your sun hums in your chest. Marcus’s obvious comfort puts you at ease, transforming your proximity from intimidating into something familiar- you and Marcus, side by side on a mission together. Normal.

You dare to lean your head on his arm periodically. He smells nice- clean from showering after the pool earlier. Occasionally his body will vibrate with laughter at the movie, and your heart- and sunlight- will skip at the rumble of it against you. 

--

“Soo, what’s everyone wearing to the party tomorrow night?”

Binary, setting down her post-lunch coffee next to her empty pre-lunch travel mug, shakes her head at Seams’s question.

“What do you want to tell us to wear?” Bellows raises an eyebrow.

Seams appears affronted. “What you’ll look best in, obviously. I thought we agreed on the whole ‘united front’ thing?”

Doc interjects before her pointed look can pierce any deeper. “Do you think the thief’s gray suit would do me any favors? He offered to let me borrow it for the party, but I’m not sure about the color.”

Everyone looks at Doc then, picturing him in the steely gray suit jacket you assume he’s referring to. Pairing it with his sandy hair and hazel-blue eyes.

“The one he wore the other day? Hmm.” Seams taps her chin with a finger. “No, you’re right, the color will wash you out. Ask him for one of his more colorful plaids.”

“Much obliged.” Doc tips his mug to her in thanks.

(His mug contains tea, milky, courtesy of Deven: “You’ve been after something new to drink in the mornings, right? This will put hair on your chest, Doc. None for Belly, though.” Deven wagged a warning finger in Bellows’s direction.

You nearly choked on your tropical juice. Binary, her lips trembling from fighting her own laughter, gave the faux-sulking Bellows a pat on the shoulder.

Bel scoffed. “Please, I wouldn’t drink that stuff anyway. The only thing your people got right about tea is the size.” 

He tapped his mug with a fingernail, the clink ringing. It was a standard eight ounces but made of clear glass, decorated with patterns of concentric blue circles. The tea within was black and unadulterated but for a lush, leafy stem of mint. A sheen of undissolved sugar remained at the bottom, visible when he slurped a pointed sip, and remembering the amount he’d stirred in made you shudder all over again.)

No one escapes Seams’s interrogation (except for Ezra and the thief, who are absent). Nerea is the only person who agrees to be styled for the party, although Deven concedes to look through her jewelry collection.

“...But only because I want to see what kind of goodies that cute designer you stole from me at the last party is sending you.” Deven narrows his eyes at Seams accusingly.

She smiles with perfect innocence, and eats the last bite of her salad with a little too much relish.

Then Seams’s pale brown eyes turn to your end of the table. “And what about you two?”

“...Us?” You have to hide your astonishment. Marcus goes rigid.

You’d tried to remain unnoticed throughout the conversation. You and Marcus had been invited to the party, of course, but hadn’t decided if you’d go. What kind of message would it send if you did? You had no idea what circles the thief ran in. What kind of people would be there or who they’d talk to. Marcus would rather pluck out his own eyebrows hair by hair than go to any event hosted by the thief regardless, but you…you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Uh…we figured we’d find something in our closets that would work? Was it you who put together our wardrobes?” you ask in a sudden moment of insight. You feel foolish for not realizing it before. 

No wonder Marcus’s shirts fit him so deliciously.

The sudden thought is a rude intrusion, and you frown. You’d been having more and more thoughts like that of late; it’s unprecedented, and it makes you uneasy. We don’t think about our friends that way, you chide yourself.

…But if Seams had personally designed their wardrobes, then why was that? Why had she made Marcus’s clothes fit the way they did? He’s wearing the dove gray button-down again today, and it’s impossible not to notice the unique stitching making his shoulders look so wide-

“Obviously,” Seams replies with a flip of her hair.

But that confirms it-

Your face falls into a pleasantly neutral expression, while your breathing instinctively deepens in attempt to calm the sudden emotions clanging inside you- like a belltower, each thought tolling irresistibly preceding another. Jealousy, that Seams clearly also had ideas about Marcus’s most attractive features and how to emphasize them. Confusion, as to why you should be jealous that someone else finds Marcus attractive. Bewilderment- when had you started acknowledging that you found Marcus so attractive?

Only Marcus notices the shift in your breathing. Shit. The temperature hasn’t changed, but something has obviously provoked you, and it was his responsibility to be there for you.

“I guess we should thank you for that,” Marcus says. He smiles calmly at Seams and places a hand on your shoulder, offering your gratitude as a unit. It quells your chaotic emotions, for the moment.

“It’s what I do.” Seams gives a flourish of the hand and inclines her head as if bowing, but her satisfaction is obvious.

“His wardrobe has suits that will be fine for the party,“ she continues, waving at Marcus. “But yours…” she eyes you critically.

“My dress from the deep sea party,” Binary says. Casually she grabs a cookie from the small platter in front of her and leans back in her chair.

Seams’s eyes widen. “The navy, sheer one.”

“Mmmhm.”

Seams turns to her. “This is why I forgive you for not letting me dress you.” Her pointed finger manages to make even her supposed forgiveness slightly threatening. 

Binary rolls her eyes. “I’ll bring it by later.”

--

For all of Marcus’s searching, neither he nor Sunbeam have found the room they dined in that very first night. The one with his swords- Marina’s swords- hanging on the walls. 

Walls which, in Marcus’s memory, seemed to drip in shades of rage and blood.

Obviously that was their first thought- try the easiest solution first. Marcus was sure the thief was too cocky to have taken down the swords. No, it would be just like him to leave them on display in the same room, taunt them with the possibility of swiping them from the wall and running.

But Marcus is not at all sure the thief wouldn’t simply shift the whole dining room instead. “Steal” it right out from under their noses and put another room in place of every door they open. Who’s to say he couldn’t? All those stories the thief tells, the things he claims to have stolen, and Marcus has no way of knowing which ones are bullshit and which ones are plausible. 

Marcus’s priorities had shifted as soon as he realized who was holding them captive. 

The thief. The man, the villain, who had haunted him so many years ago. 

He still hopes to find the swords, of course. But, Marcus rationalizes, if he can bring the thief to justice, then he’ll have uninhibited access to his collections afterward. 

So he stalks the house in his every spare moment. All but taking notes, assuming everything he sees has been acquired in some questionable way and slotting everything even remotely ancient or valuable or familiar-looking onto a mental list.

Animal figurines carved in wood with breathtaking detail. A collection of jewelry in patinated gold, each piece lined with microscopic, painstakingly placed beads. Marble statutes that wouldn’t look out of place in St. Peter’s Square.

Marcus Moreno, despite his profession, is not a violent man by nature. The combat he engages in is defensive. On behalf of others. He tries to disable, not hurt or maim. Yet every time they enter a new room, decorated with the thief’s glittering prizes, a red, pulsing rage fills him.

How many people have been hurt because of his exploits?

It was his government that stole people, not the thief, but if he hadn’t been stealing things in the first place…

No. Marcus shakes his head. That’s not how blame works and he knows this, has long accepted it with the help of his blessedly patient therapist.

But that doesn’t mean he can forgive the man. Marcus can get along with most people. For as long as is needed, anyway. But the thief is…strange. And then there’s your theory, that he’s- what, reformed now?

Marcus thinks of Doc’s halting progress in their self-defense lessons. The thief’s genuine gratitude and relief at Marcus’s willingness to train him.

And the camaraderie the thief has with the others who live here. They’re so…accepting. Welcoming Marcus and Sunbeam into their fold with hardly a whisper of mutiny. It’s uncomfortable to consider next to the memory of the pranks Miracle Guy and Crushing Low often played on new recruits. And even on the old hands- although they eased off somewhat after that time Lavagirl left their offices a molten waste. Marcus could never get it into their heads that being around the longest didn’t make them superior to everyone…

Nerea’s kind smile shines in his head, sparkling white as the snow they liked to conjure. How did someone like them agree to work with the thief? How did any of them end up here? The idea of befriending the people who are complicit in the thief’s work makes Marcus grind his teeth, but that’s what you and he agreed to. And then there’s their other little plan…

Marcus groans, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, and resolves not to examine the situation so closely anymore. He gets up to see if you’re still lounging in their shared sitting room.

You are. You appear to be asleep- limbs a comfortable sprawl, head dropped back against the arm of the couch- but despite your closed eyes, your skin glimmers faintly, rhythmically. A long inhale, and it brightens enough to cast a dance on the polished wood of the coffee table. An exhale, and it fades again, to a shimmer fine enough that it could be a trick of cosmetics, like the glittery lotion that Missy had found once to go as you for Halloween. 

(Of course Marcus helped her apply it, and the sparkle had clung to his hands for days afterward. It was worth it only because his daughter- and you- grinned every time she saw it.)

Marcus follows the line of your arm up to your shoulder, where the neckline of your top has slumped to the side. His gaze traces your bra strap, your light the same shade of gold even as it leads to the slope of your breast.

He finds himself wondering if your whole body glows just the same. Do your nipples glow? Marcus’s cheeks flush at the thought. But if they’re a different shade than the rest of your skin, it makes sense that the light would look different. What about, say, the inside of you? 

His eyes glaze over as this thought plays out- as he considers the only place where the answer to that question might be visible.

Your skin brightens pointedly, and it jars Marcus from his depraved headspace. He unclenches his hands, clearing his throat as he offers you a sheepish smile.

Your expression is groggy yet forgiving, the air flickering warm with your amusement, as you rearrange yourself, making space for him on the couch. Marcus sits, being very careful not to touch you, still feeling as hot as if your sun had somehow gotten inside of him.

Now there’s a thought.

Marcus forcefully wrenches his mind from its perverted spiral, wondering, with a tinge of panic, what the fuck was wrong with him.

He says, “You want to go to the party.”

You look up and then away again, shades of guilt painting your face.

“I know we shouldn’t- I know why we shouldn’t, but…”

Marcus weighs his words. “You don’t think we should use the opportunity to dig around while the thief is distracted? See what we can find while everyone is out of the house?” To do so would be Marcus’s inclination, but you and he are great partners for a reason- you often have some insight that he doesn’t consider, and he values your thoughts on this. 

You consider, still blinking away the meditative haze of your catnap. “I think…it won’t make a difference if we go or not. 

“If we don’t go- even if we say it’s because of appearances or because we straight-up don’t like him- I don’t think the thief will believe we plan on just sulking in our rooms. He’ll have extra security measures in place around the swords, wherever they are.”

Marcus’s gaze is distant. “Do you think he still believes the swords are our primary objective?”

You look at him in surprise. “Aren’t they?”

Marcus worries a small throw pillow in his lap, thumb repeatedly tracing the textured pattern. “I don’t know. I think we should let him think so, but now that we’re here…” He leans toward you, lowering his voice. “I’ve been looking for other things. Really notable steals, records or an office of some kind. I haven’t found anything yet, but…bringing him in would make it all worth it.” His gaze is distant, but contemplative. 

“And we’d still get the swords that way,” you say slowly, completing his thought process. 

“...But there’s still no way he wouldn’t have extra security everywhere during a party. We have no idea what kind of people will show up! If this is some kind of special party of thieves, or if other people with superpowers will be there…maybe we wouldn’t even be who he’s worried about.” You give Marcus a wry twist of your lips. 

“Maybe we could sneak off at the height of the party. Try to assess the security measures before then, if it would be worth it…”

“I could stay and distract him for a while?” You snigger even as you say the words, knowing how Marcus will react. “He won’t notice you sneaking off if I’m sparkling all over his arm.”

Marcus scoffs, trying to ignore the way his chest tightens at your suggestion. “You already know what I’m going to say to that. It’s too risky.” He flicks you a long glance. “What if he notices I’m gone and takes it out on you? Plus…”

He hesitates, unsure if what he’s about to say is a good idea. “I think a fancy party will be a good chance to really double down on our ‘relationship’. Get dressed up, stay close together the whole time, maybe dance, if there’s the opportunity.” He looks away.

“Oooh, I like that.” You sit up straighter. “You’d have to contain your jealousy if anyone else asked me to dance. Especially if that someone was Theo.” Your eyes sparkle mischievously. 

Theo. Marcus hates the thief’s little nickname, but he hates even more the way it falls so easily from your lips. Seams’s creation, a natural extension from the sound of ‘thief’, is obviously not his real name, and Marcus worries at how you’ve grown used to using it. Worries that you might forget who the man truly is.

“You guys kind of look alike, you know.” Your smile is sly. “Tall, dark, and handsome.”

“Wha-” Marcus sputters. He thinks back to your conversation on the balcony. If you think he looks like the thief, does that mean that you think Marcus is…hot?

You watch Marcus’s face steadily redden, like a balloon about to pop, and burst into laughter. “Oh, Marcus, you’re way too easy to fluster for a superhero.” It takes several seconds to contain your giggling. You school your features into something sympathetic. “I’m joking, okay? I mean I’m sort of not, because you are tall, dark, and handsome, but just…don’t worry, okay? I can handle the thief.”

You’re up and heading to your room before Marcus can regain his dignity, squeezing his shoulder as you round the couch. To his surprise, he feels a thread of anger winding through his embarrassment. You think he’s so easy to fluster? A blushing schoolboy compared to your worldly remove?

Marcus storms into motion, face still burning, aiming for his wardrobe. He pulls out his phone. 

--

You look like Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

Deep blue fabric flows over your body, draping and cinching and flattering in all the right places. Beadwork unfurls across it like a flung bolt of stars. Your skin is what really brings the effect to life- your golden light whorls beneath the dress’s sheer panels, making you shimmer like no painting ever could.

Only Marcus will know that your sunlight only moves like this when you’re nervous.

You head down to the party between Binary and Seams, your arms linked. The latter is still high on her transformation of you (“Maybe I should specialize in superhero styling.”) Her chin lifts regally, her every stride as sure as the strike of a blade. On your other side, Binary’s walk is more of a flow, liquid and calm as her expression, only an understated gleam in her eye betraying her anticipation.

Okay. You breathe. Focus on not burning your companions. All you have to do is find Marcus, and you’ll be fine. You can make it until then.

The length of marble hall ahead gets shorter and shorter, and the music grows louder. The cries and chatter of a crowd reach your ears. Your anxiety reaches a crescendo all at once.

The scene that opens before you is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. 

The lawn normally visible from the breakfast room staircase has been transformed. This morning there hadn’t been so much as a blade of grass out of place. Now you can hardly see the grass beneath a constant drift of flower petals and glittery confetti, and the bejeweled heels of a few hundred cavorting strangers.

Decorative towers rise from the ground and form a border for the party space. Also constructed are trellised walls woven with flowers, joined to create the illusion of enclosed rooms, slightly more private spaces. Through the gaps are glimpses of plush chaise lounges and fur carpets- the same decor, it appears, as that of the low, open daises also scattering the lawn. Several are already occupied, lounging guests and their finery glinting at every turn; through the heave of the crowd you think you spot someone in a crown.

Globes of light and glittery garland seem to hang from the sky. Also suspended, seemingly from midair, are dancers- or maybe acrobats- graceful and daring and entertaining with a variety of poses and powers.

Oh, right. This is a super party.

Heroics didn’t like to entertain with super-powered methods. They were too above such things- they used their powers for a higher purpose, and expressed that others should do the same. You’d never catch Granada at any theater using magic for their special effects.

Here there were no such qualms. Across the lawn, two figures on pedestals seemed to be dueling with fire and ice, to the delighted gasps of the watchers below. A woman on a nearby edge of the crowd seemed to have skin lined with points of cold light. She notices you- perhaps she has similar powers?- and nudges the man besides her. As he turns, a tiny plumed bird takes flight from his shoulder. It wings several meters away, straight to the sequined epaulet of another figure, who seems to cock their head to it, as if getting a message. They too, turn in your direction, and you get the feeling that your entrance will not go unremarked. 

You’re immensely grateful when Ezra appears in front of your trio. “At last, the final three birds to complete our flock.”

Oh good, that must mean Marcus is already here.

“Are we late?” you ask.

“Fashionably, of course,” Seams replies. She pecks Ezra on the cheek as she passes, her (terrifyingly) tall platform heels raising her to his same height. She seamlessly lifts a glass off the tray of a passing waiter and bounces into the crowd.

The waiter, noticing your drinklessness, pauses to offer his tray to the rest of you. It holds what can only be cocktails, ranging in color and sparkliness to a degree that would put a pride parade to shame. You select something blue and opalescent that tastes like a spring rain.

“Come on, let’s find the others.” Following Ezra’s directions, Binary leads you among clumps of finely-dressed people until you spot a familiar plaid suit- the thief’s, but fitted to Doc’s narrow frame. 

“There’s Marcus. You go on, there’s someone I need to talk to.” 

“Wait-” you whip your head around in alarm, but Binary is already gone, only a glint of copper at head-height providing a guess at her path.

Where was Marcus? There’s Bellows and a figure in green over with Doc, but you skim past them, scanning desperately for someone scowling or suspicious, anyone in a plain black suit and glasses.

A glint of red catches your eye. Deven, gesticulating at Doc in a way that sets the sequins on his top glinting like a signal fire. You breathe. Deven likes a gossip, he might have seen Marcus. You start toward the two familiar faces. 

Honestly, has Theo hired a super whose power is to manifest flowers? You can’t think of how else he could achieve the constant ‘petals in the breeze’ effect. Maybe you missed a memo on the theme. There are flowers everywhere, nowhere untouched by their sweet, heady scent, a demonstration of the last bounty of summer. Only the rapidly cooling air betrays the receding season.  

An end of summer theme would fit Seams’s outfit, you suppose. A short, frothy fuschia dress, with beaded vines and flowers peeking out amongst the ruffled layers. Her makeup as minimal yet as striking a complement as ever- a swipe of spring green eyeliner over her top lids, with a dot beneath each lower lashline. 

Speaking of green…the figure beside Doc and Deven turns, and you stumble to a halt.

It’s Marcus.

Marcus, wearing a suit of deep, forest green, and smiling at something Doc says, his eyes crinkling in full visibility without his glasses. Why isn’t he wearing his glasses?

His hair is swept up and back in a way that it normally only achieves after being windblown in a superfight, or styled by someone else for a PR event. Since when can he do his own hair like that? He stands with his shoulders back, appearing relaxed, all but dripping charm and control.

Your hands are warm. Marcus is stunning, and you can’t stop gaping, and if you don’t get ahold of yourself your powers will scorch your own carefully constructed outfit to ash.

Deven turns, and your eyes meet. His eyebrows lift nearly to his hairline. A second later, some realization sparks, and his lips move.

The heat under your skin is mounting, but you can’t seem to remember how to breathe. Marcus’s smile, the breadth of his shoulders- he’s all you can see. What is happening to you?

“Sunbeam.” Nerea appears in front of you, smile soothing and reassuring as they reach for your hands. You gasp.

Their touch is cold, a wintery slap to the face. Your breathing jolts back to a controlled pace. Your sun immediately simmers down, although your face remains uncomfortably hot in a way you suspect is purely biological. 

“Nerea,” you mumble. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Their lips quirk knowingly. “Here.” They rest the backs of their hands against your cheeks for a moment. The cold is crisp and reinvigorating as pressing your face to an icy windowpane. You sigh in relief.

--

Marcus sees you enter the party, of course. Heads turn like ripples in a pond toward you, Seams, and Binary- but mostly you, sparkling like a fucking star, your skin shimmering coyly beneath the semi-sheer portions of your dress. It takes a second glance to fully appreciate; or, if you’re Marcus, one endless, captivated stare, during which his lungs struggle to function and his brainpower ceases entirely.

How is it he feels like he’s never seen you before?

You and Marcus have been to countless Heroics events before, dressed in all degrees of formality. But tonight, here, through a crowd of potentially dangerous strangers and half-obscured by flower petals- it feels like his vision is clear for the first time.

Beside him, Doc’s head tilts. It’s his only visible reaction as he listens to Marcus’s blood sing and surge, much of it in a very particular direction-

Deven lets out a long, low whistle at the sight of the three women entering. “We are a pretty bunch, aren’t we?” He slings an arm each over the shoulders of Doc and Marcus.

Doc hums an amused sound. Marcus clears his throat, Deven’s gesture having yanked the leash on his senses, allowing his thoughts to return to his plan. Your impression that Marcus is some stammering schoolboy, unable to handle the slightest hint of flirtation, is unbearable- so he intends to put that idea to rest tonight.

“Cheers to that,” Marcus says. Flagging a passing waiter, he hands two flutes of standard sparkling champagne to his companions.

Their glasses clink. Across the crowd, Binary is leading you toward them. Resolved, Marcus half turns away as if he hasn’t seen you, letting himself smile at the arriving Bellows.

--

Your almost-meltdown seems to have gone miraculously unnoticed, despite that you’re barely ten steps from Marcus.

“Oh look, there are the others!” Nerea chirps. Their hands still refreshingly cool, they tug you forward.

There’s no way they didn’t know that, you think. But you’re so grateful for Nerea’s subtlety you don’t even care. Especially not as Marcus seems to get taller the closer you get him, his profile stunning against the tall white headdress of someone behind him.

“Sunshine!” Deven appears at your side like a flame bursting to life. His shoulder-length locks are half pulled back, and the earring in his left ear is long and bejeweled, dangling low enough to brush his bedazzled lapels.

“Hey, Deven.” You laugh in surprise at his hug and blush at his praise, modestly waving off his compliments on your appearance.

Someone comes up to you from behind. You sense them before you see them, their hand lowering toward your shoulder- but even the split second before it lands, an inconceivably, unfathomably brief instant- you recognize him.

Marcus.

Your sun retreats from where it would have scalded anyone else. “Sunbeam.” Marcus lightly touches your shoulder, and you turn and face him.

Marcus beams at you, radiating relief. And something else? He leans down and presses his lips to your cheek. “You look amazing,” he murmurs.

Your knees wobble. Marcus releases your shoulder, and your sun rushes back in like the sea into a tide pool, as if desperate to touch where he’d been.

“Marcus.” Giddy at his sudden closeness, but mostly with relief rushing through you like a drug, you grin. “Thanks. Seams’s work, obviously.” You make a little flourish as if to hand off some of the credit. Marcus shakes his head a little, his eyes darting all over you, from here to there and back again. Everywhere your sunlight is visible…

“You look nice too! I’ve never seen you in this color.” You’re genuinely proud of yourself for how normal you’ve sounded so far. You give Marcus a onceover now that you’re closer, immensely glad to have seen him before now, because otherwise you would have made a fool of yourself in point-blank HD. Speaking of which…

“Where are your glasses?” It’s always strange seeing him without them outside of superhero mode- he looks the same, but not. As if their lack lets you see things you can’t normally.

“Doc ordered me some contacts, too. ‘In case I prefer them.’” Marcus rolls his eyes in fond exasperation.

You laugh. “Of course.”

Strangely, everyone you know seems to have drifted away from you. Even Doc, who normally wouldn’t do anything so impolite as snub a greeting. You shuffle backwards slightly, suddenly aware of how close to Marcus you’re still standing. 

“Well, should we…make our way around?” you suggest.

Marcus looks around, his face turning serious as if remembering where they are. “I guess so. We should keep an eye out for the thief, too.”

“Of course.” You smirk. “Gotta show ourselves off.”

“Show you off, you mean. Come on.” Eyes twinkling, Marcus takes your arm and tugs you along. Your whole body tingles.

--

You don’t know what you expected, but apparently it wasn’t that everyone would be so chatty. Plenty of people choose to stare instead of approach- every time you turn a pair of eyes flits away, or a group shuffles guiltily. But just as many people seem perfectly at ease striking up a conversation with you and Marcus.

A man with canines that protruded out of his purple lipsticked-mouth asked if it was true that Granada didn’t age. A hugely buff, cheerful woman at a food table commented on the delicate perfection of the macarons. An individual wearing a shimmery dress but of otherwise indiscernible gender queried, with a twinkle in their eye, if the Heroics ever helped rebuild any of the property they destroyed during superhero battles.

Marcus rubs the bridge of his nose. “They must have been talking to Missy,” he grumbles. 

You send him an amused glance. The next generation of Heroics was notoriously outspoken on how different things would be when they were in charge. Every new proposal they sent to Marcus meant another pile of paperwork, but neither of you would dream of discouraging the young people’s ambition.

You pick up a glass filled with something in the same shade of violet as the earlier guy’s lipstick and examine it, thinking.

“I don’t know why,” Marcus begins, echoing your thoughts, “but I thought more people here would be…”

“Villainous? Aloof? Suspicious-looking?” you suggest. 

Marcus frowns around the rim of his glass. “...Yes.”

You agree. “But they’re all so..nice. Like totally normal people.”

“Almost all of them,” Marcus mutters, leveling a dark glance over his shoulder.

He’s glaring at the thief, who’s currently lounging on one of the cushioned platforms in the center of the lawn. Most of his ire is directed at the crown Theo wears- or was wearing when he arrived. Now it doesn’t look as much like he’s holding court. Another man on the dais currently wears the crown, and is chatting amongst a small group sprawled on the plush rugs, not paying the thief any mind. Theo himself appears engaged in conversation with just the two people sharing his couch. 

When Marcus looks back at you, there’s a creamy pink flower petal caught in your hair. He reaches for it. “Wait, you’ve got a flower.”

Your breath catches when Marcus leans over you. His other hand hovers near your jaw, as if to hold your head in place. It doesn’t touch, but the mere promise of it is more than enough to keep you still.

Finally Marcus leans back, proffering the offending petal between two fingers. 

“Thanks.” You take a sip of your drink, feigning unaffectedness as you look around.

Hiding a smile, Marcus lets the petal fall. You’re not quite as subtle as you think. Every time he touches you, the faintest shimmer blooms beneath your skin. It’s addicting, being able to watch the reactions he would normally have to helplessly hope for.

He sets down his empty glass and scans the crowd, wondering if any of the waiters are serving water. Movement on the thief’s dais catches his eye. He appears to be leaving, kissing cheeks as he goes. His long suit jacket, tonight black and embroidered with gold and blue flowers, swishes around his thighs as he places one foot on the stairs.

The man still wearing the crown stands. The thief turns, one hand going dramatically to his head. Their faces are inches apart as the other man lowers the crown into the thief’s tousled locks. 

The thief lightly grips the man’s chin, and Marcus hates that he can picture the exact challenging, flirtatious expression on the thief’s face. The other man smirks; the thief tugs him down until their lips meet.

Marcus isn’t sure that he expected to feel anything at the sight, but something is undeniably fomenting. You’d reported the tidbit about the thief and Ezra previously being involved, but knowing something and seeing it are two different things.

Marcus looks away, grateful to find your attention elsewhere.

“Whoa, look at that gorgeous woman Doc is talking to. Does she look familiar…?”

Marcus’s mouth falls open. Not because of the woman’s looks, although she is beautiful- long tanned limbs and elegant stature and dark, intelligent eyes- but because he knows who she is.

Oh god, they’re coming toward you. Marcus has met some important people as a Heroic, but none in this context. What is she doing here? Talking with Doc like they’re old friends?

Marcus is nudging you in their direction, apparently determined to intercept them. You go unresistingly, still wracking your brain for where you’ve seen her before.

Doc catches sight of you and slows to an uncertain stop. The woman follows his gaze, but no sooner have her eyes lit with curiosity than the thief appears, kissing her on both cheeks and asking after someone called Oberyn.

“He’s terribly busy, I’m afraid, but he bid me come and have fun for the both of us.” You’re close enough to overhear their conversation now- close enough that it could almost be considered rude for Theo not to introduce you.

Her dress sways with layers of fringe the color of saffron threads. Dark curls spill down her back in a loose bind. There’s an easy, sensual confidence about her- the look of someone deeply settled in their own body. With her dark coloring and flower petals in her hair, she looks like summer incarnate.

Her gaze flickers from the thief to you and back again. “Darling Teo, you must tell me about the company you’re keeping these days.” She threads her arm through his. “Heroics?” Her tone is benign, but her glance is very, very pointed.

The thief clears his throat, and although he gives you and Marcus a regal nod of acknowledgment it’s clear he has no intention for you to join them. “My darling queen, trust me when I say I’m just as surprised as you are…” He directs her back the way she came. If you didn’t know better, you’d say Theo looked almost nervous.

The woman flicks her hair as they walk, and the dip of her dress reveals a tattoo of a spear rippling along her spine. You stare after them, curiosity of a different flavor piqued. 

“Do you know who that was?” Marcus’s face resembles a thundercloud. 

You frown. “Is she a celebrity? She definitely looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why.”

“He called her queen. Because she’s an actual, politically recognized Queen.” 

At your obvious lack of recollection, Marcus turns his disbelieving gaze to the heavens. “That was Queen Ellaria of Dorne. She’s married to King Oberyn. And apparently, both of them are best friends with Teo.” Marcus sneers his name.

He appears deeply unsettled by this turn of events. You wait while Marcus processes, mumbling to himself, making several movements halfway before aborting them. When a familiar, frenetic glitter appears in his eye, you speak.

“Oh! I finally remember where I’ve seen her before.” Marcus looks up. “I read some listicle recently- ‘Ranking the 10 Hottest Monarchs in the World’, or something. But I remember laughing because King Oberyn was like, six, and his wife was all the way up at number two.” You chuckle at the memory.

Marcus stares at you. If before he’d been spiraling, worries spinning around him like debris in a tornado, now the storm had frozen in its path. Then Marcus guffaws, and his worries drop while his laughter continues, shaking him until his paranoid concerns are scattered at his feet.

You allow yourself a satisfied smile. Your skin brightens, your sunlight smug. “There’s nothing we can do but keep our eyes open. And let’s get another drink while we’re at it. I haven’t tried the orange one yet.”

So you continue your way around the party, sampling the food and flowers and drinks in every color of the rainbow. Despite the marvels all around, Ellaria’s appearance had had a sobering effect. The illusion had been shattered. Now you kept your eyes peeled, open to the real possibility of seeing someone you might recognize. You don’t, but Marcus spots someone who’s on the board of an international children’s charity, and his fists clench so tight that a crack appears in your highball glass. 

You find Ezra again, and he introduces you to a girl he calls his ‘ward’, Cee. Although she and her companion are easily the youngest people here, the elfin blonde looks plenty old enough to be independent.

“How are your lessons with Francisco coming?” Ezra asks her. 

“Fine,” she answers. Her gaze flits to you and Marcus with what’s by now a familiar uncertainty. How much to say around you who would normally be their enemies?

Ezra puts his arm around her. His right arm, the colored lights glinting dully off his sporadically-worn prosthetic. “Cee here is training to be a pilot. I’ve been a great source of inspiration to her, you see…” 

The woman plants her palm on his cheek and shoves gently at his face. Ezra cackles as he retreats, his blond streak sticking straight up amongst now-mussed hair. “A great source of pain, you mean,” Cee grumbles.

It’s somewhat jarring to see the mansion’s residents- a limited circle you thought you were getting to know- in such an expanded context. Ezra, with a daughter. Deven, blushing at a peck on the cheek from a tall, wide man and his companion. Bellows, appearing happily smothered in affection by a woman whose chatter was almost as bright as her intricately embroidered thaub.

You’re surprised to find yourself feeling slightly bereft at their distraction. It’s not that they’re ignoring you, but…Of course they want to spend time with their actual friends. It’s silly to think that they would prioritize you and Marcus, with your situation being what it was.  

Anyway, it’s not like you’re lonely. Marcus doesn’t leave your side the whole night. Literally- you’re not sure when he first got ahold of you, but you can’t think of a single moment when he hasn’t been touching you. At some point he found one of the gaps in the back of your dress, and his fingertips had seemed glued to your skin ever since. He leans down to hear you whenever you speak, and his lips nearly touch your ear when he replies. It’s entirely unnecessary. It’s making you warm. 

It only gets worse once a dance floor appears at the far side of the lawn. Marcus leads you toward it. 

“Dance?” His eyes gleam.

His palm splays on the small of your back. His other hand engulfs yours, holding it aloft as he sways you to the lilting music. Heat that has nothing to do with your power grows steadily inside you. Since when is Marcus this good of an actor?

Your sun can’t be contained either. Heat builds under your skin until you’re sure you look less like Starry Night and more like a certain sci-fi character about to regenerate. 

Marcus’s lips brush your ear. “Stay with me, Sunbeam. It’s just us, remember?” He leans back slightly, giving you some much-needed breathing room. His brown eyes catch yours and hold them.

Slowly, your temperature goes down. You become aware of watchful eyes all around, bright with anticipation. You look down.

A trickle of figures on the edge of the crowd catch your eye. Pairs and small groups head for the hedge maze, some more eagerly than others. Dark and quiet and alone? Yes please.

You catch Marcus’s eye again. “Wanna take a walk?” 

--

The hedge maze is everything the party isn’t. Cool and quiet, tranquil and relaxing. You and Marcus meander the dark paths aimlessly, your sunlight glimmering off glossy green leaves. He says nothing, and you neither.

Periodically, you hear evidence of others in the maze. Voices, giggling, rustling…moaning? You smirk to yourself and refrain from commenting. But the third time you pass what must be a very passionate hangout, without having seen a soul for at least twenty minutes, you begin to wonder. It’s not quite a maze, this. There are navigational signs, for a start. Almost all the lead-offs you peek into end in small, unadorned clearings.

From a shrouded, sordid corner of your mind rises the word. 

Pleasure garden.

Was that even a real thing? Or just something you’d absorbed from some historic fantasy novel? Either way, it rings true. The furtive yet eager behavior of the couples entering the maze- the fact that it was primarily small groups of two or three entering together. The paths are lush, but not overgrown. The atmosphere clandestine, but not spooky. More…romantic. Erotic.

“I think…” You slow to a stop, and Marcus with you. “I think this maze is meant for couples. Like, people who want to sneak away. That’s why we keep hearing…stuff.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be blushing over something like that, Sunbeam.” Marcus slides you a sideways smirk, one corner of his mouth lifting. “I figured that out too, somehow.” 

You roll your eyes like that will disguise your fidgeting. Normally you wouldn’t be so flustered in a situation like this, but you’re just so…hot already. As you have been all night.

There’s a gap in the hedges behind Marcus that you swear wasn’t there a second ago. 

“Well, if we really wanted to cement the rumors of our fake relationship…” You nod to the gap, and Marcus turns, the shadowy archway appearing in full. 

You and Marcus exchange a long glance.

“I’m ready if you are.” Marcus offers you his arm. The formal gesture strikes you as silly given the circumstances- you’ve already entered a pleasure garden together. Yet it puts you strangely at ease, too. This is Marcus, your friend, your companion-in-arms- giving you agency in keeping yourself safe, like he always has.

You loop your arm through his.

--

“I guess that means we’ll be here awhile,” you say, settling yourself on the softest grass you’ve ever felt. “Should have grabbed one of those champagne bottles.”

A number of the decorative towers glittering throughout the party had in fact been made of green glass bottles- drink option, decoration, and party favor all in one. You’d seen others brandishing them all evening, and now regretted not grabbing one before entering the maze.

Marcus is examining the barely-visible gap in the hedge that provided you entrance to your little clearing. The green of his suit nearly blends in with the leaves, adding to the enchanting surreality of his appearance.

At your words, he straightens. “I could go get one,” Marcus offers. “Or maybe…” 

His face alights with mischief. He turns his head in the direction of the party, eyes narrowing. Startled cries sound in the distance before transforming into awed, knowing oooohs. Marcus holds out his hand.

A second later, a green glass bottle sails down into his palm. He turns to you, grinning, lifting the bottle like a trophy.

You laugh in delight, applauding. Marcus indulges your praise with a little bow, looking pleased with himself in a way you don’t see very often anymore.

The two of you settle into the grass and pass the champagne back and forth. There’s no direct light source in your little enclave; a soft glow seems to emanate from the leaves themselves, doubtless some magic induced by the thief’s gardeners. However it works, it manages to cast everything in a warm, gentle light. It flatters Marcus’s already attractive features: his relaxed smile, the length of his throat, every flicker of muscle in his shoulders and arms beneath his fine white shirt. His suit jacket lay discarded, nearly invisible against the base of the hedge. You had nearly choked on fizz when he’d removed it.

The heat that had been building inside you all evening quiets, but doesn’t subside completely. It’s unignorable. It flares every time Marcus’s fingers brush yours on the bottle. Every time he laughs, his head tipping back. When you kick off your shoes and wiggle your toes in the grass, and he can’t quite tear his gaze from your legs. Your sunlight preens. You clear your throat and adjust your dress over your thighs, suppressing the ache between them. 

Silence settles comfortably between you. Marcus upends the champagne bottle, then holds it upside down over the grass, displaying its emptiness with a pout. You giggle, swaying where you sit. A pleasant, tipsy buzz has taken hold of both of you, making all of your troubles seem very far away. Why worry when you could simply relax for once, hidden away as you are?

For the first time, you hear other people outside the hedge. A trio, it sounds like, cooing at each other and laughing as they pass by. 

Only suddenly, they aren’t passing- the branches where you entered quiver, and the thump of stumbling footsteps sound.

You look at Marcus in alarm. 

His face hardens with sudden resolve. Quick as a flash, Marcus springs forward, and you find yourself sprawled on your back, his longer body covering yours like a blanket. The grass is cool against your spine. You gasp when Marcus’s mouth brushes your neck, his movements hurried and inelegant.

“Play along,” he mutters in your ear.

Right. You wrap your arms around his back, trying to grasp handfuls of his too-tight, tucked-in shirt. As your body relaxes into a more natural posture, Marcus’s tenses, the muscles in his back flickering. He grabs the back of your knee and hitches it over his hip, and you choke on a sound of shock.

You can’t see the intruders from your position, but Marcus whips his head toward them as they appear.

“Oops, sorry!” They back out immediately. Stifled squeals and giggles trail after them for a seemingly endless moment, until finally, finally, quiet falls again. 

The distant sounds of the party and the rustling of the hedges are the only sounds. 

No, that’s not true- you can hear Marcus breathing, harsh and fast. The humidity of it skims the shell of your ear. You’re barely breathing at all. Your chests brush every time you inhale, but you don’t dare make any other move.

“Are they gone?” Marcus whispers. 

The stubble on his jaw rasps against your cheek when he speaks. Despite that he holds the bulk of his weight off of you, you can still feel the mass of him, resting lightly against your body. It’s the only sensation that could possibly distract from the way he still grips your leg- barely above the knee, perfectly proprietary, but the real issue is that his fingers are on your skin. Keeping you in place in a way you know, instinctively, is going to haunt your dreams.

“It sounds like it,” you breathe in response. 

Marcus lifts his head enough to meet your eye. Neither of you move, frozen, close enough to taste the sweet champagne you shared on the other’s breath. Marcus’s eyes flicker to your mouth.

He flinches. Carefully Marcus scrambles off you, releasing your leg and sitting back by your feet. His eyes are huge and round and dark. He seems as stunned as you still are, staring up at him from the ground. Only a few moments had passed, yet the entire incident seemed both instantaneous and endless, echoing in the space between you. Somehow your sun hadn’t even reacted, only waited attentively in your chest for a coherent command.

“Sorry,” Marcus rasps. “It was the first thing I thought of.”

“It’s okay.” Clearing your throat, you slowly sit yourself up. “Do you think they recognized us?”

I hope so, is what Marcus doesn’t say. 

“Maybe. But we did want word to get back to the thief.” His mouth twitches infinitesimally, something that could be satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

“Well.” You flounder to recover the atmosphere. “If I knew you’d react like that, I’d have hired Seams to dress me ages ago.”

Marcus blinks. And then the tension dissolves, and his laughter bounces off the hedges.

--

Eventually, you and Marcus make your way out of the garden. He brushes grass off of your back with light, careful hands- although those hands still steal into the gap in your dress to rest against your spine as you walk. You’ve (not unhappily) resigned yourself to the endless, tingling warmth caused by his touch. Your skin maintains a low shimmer as you exit the maze, the champagne in your bloodstream loosening your grip on your power.

You sway a little as you walk, giggling, recounting to Marcus a story that Binary had told earlier. He chuckles in your ear, his head bent to yours. The crowd is noticeably thinner now, and you make it farther across the lawn than you realize without noticing- or putting your guards up.

The thief is back on the low dais in the center of the lawn, entertaining another (or possibly the same) group of people. Or maybe they’re the ones doing the entertaining, seeing as Theo is seated on the ground, seemingly unbothered by his position amongst the fluffy rugs. The crown he’d been passing around earlier now sits crookedly on his head, at the same angle as the smile on his face. A half-empty glass is in his hand.

When Marcus looks up, Theo is watching them. His gaze rests on their linked hands. A hollow sort of longing is carved on his face; Marcus, unexpectedly, feels sympathy pang in his chest. The reaction puts a deep furrow in his brow.

Theo tries to school his expression when he catches Marcus’s eye, but it’s delayed, clumsy, his finely tuned control unwieldy after too many drinks. He lifts his glass to Marcus, eventually mastering his usual refined smirk. 

Marcus looks away. He would have ignored the thief entirely if his company hadn’t spotted them, and erupted into exclamations with a lack of subtlety that indicated their state of inebriation.

You’d spotted Theo, too, as well as his excited friends. You flutter your fingers in a wave, and then blow a kiss toward the dais, sending a burst of sunlight in their direction. The guests ooh and ahh in the sudden warmth. Theo’s eyes close and his head tips back, basking in the light. The crown slips from his head. His face smooths into a serene, unguarded smile, and something squeezes in Marcus’s gut.

If you're still here, reading this story, I love you and I'm putting a freshly-baked cookie in your hand as we speak <3333

Taglist: @pinkninja200, @superwolflock29, @startrekkingaroundasgard, @punkerthanpascal

More on my Masterlist 💖

[thevillainswhore]

A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Pairing: Dark!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: It was an art - one that took many years and many sacrifices to perfect, and Steve had managed to become a master at it. There was just one thing he would not fully commit to sacrificing, at least not the important parts that kept life essence flowing: you.

Warnings: THIS IS A DARK FIC - PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - dead dove, kidnapping, mentions of smut (p in v), fingering and oral (fem receiving), implied non-con, degradation, restraints, physical abuse (face slapping), cannibalism (it’s Steve kemp what did you expect?), force feeding, hints of Stockholm syndrome?

A/N: Unbeta’d | dividers created by @rookthorne thank you for also helping me with the summary my love 🥰 | this oneshot was inspired by the lovely @smutconnoisseur who made me this absolutely stunning moodboard 😭 I just knew I had to write something as soon as I saw it. Thank you so much sweetie, loves you the most 🥹

“Let me go, you fucking psycho!”

Steve merely kept on humming to himself, happily slicing the meat in front of him into finely cut pieces. It took severe attention to detail to finesse the glide of the knife just right, cutting through as smooth as butter.

It had taken quite a long time to get his craft on the line of perfection - years in the making - and now that he’d finally mastered the art, it was as easy as riding a bike. The rush of adrenaline spiking his nerves gave him a hit unlike anything else in his life. This was what he was meant for. He’d wasted so much time not giving in before.

Wooden screeching against the floor snapped him out of his inner musings, eyes lifting up to see you fidgeting in your chair - presumably trying to escape, but the chains attached to your feet would keep you rooted.

Steve couldn’t help but notice how the glow of the candlelight surrounding you on the dinner table highlighted the beauty in the features of your face. Sunset orange dancing among the shadows, defining your cheekbones and your shoulders decorated in the straps of a pretty dress.

You were so beautiful. Perfect for him.

Placing the meat onto a skillet to cook, Steve wiped his hands and rounded the corner of the kitchen island to join you, the sudden bravado you had earlier evaporating while terror took over your body. His cock shouldn’t have gotten hard seeing the tears gathering on your lash line, but those glassy eyes reminded him of a deer in fright, ready to run. And fuck, would he love the chase.

“Bambi… join me.”

It was haunting, the kind smile Steve let loose as he held out his hand to you after arriving by your side. No wasn’t an answer, and you did well to stand up on your shaky legs - from still recovering or fear, he wasn’t sure - quietly proud of you either way.

Flashbacks of you clumsily tripping over the bed to go relieve yourself on the toilet crossed his mind as he brought you to the middle of the living room. After fucking you three times in one night, leaving you screaming his name and begging for more each time, he couldn’t help be prideful watching you stumble your way out of the room. Just like a doe learning to walk for the first time.

Of course, the chains rattling with each step you took while limping weren’t part of the memory. The heavy breaths were familiar though, smirk crawling onto his face as he imagined your adorable squeaks while he ate your cunt like he was man starved.

Once Steve had directed you into the middle of the living room rug, he brought you closer to him, slipping his arm over your waist as you flinched, and grabbing your other hand to hold as he began to slowly dance. He was thoughtful enough to keep his steps light and be extra careful with you.

Deciding it was too much of a distraction for you a long time ago, Steve had decided to forego music in the house - it let your mind switch off and he wanted your brain alert… in the present. Solely on him and every move he made. So, he graced you with his singing voice instead, whispering the lyrics to ‘Restless Heart’ in your ear.

Steve felt the shaking of your chest before your uncontrollable sobs cut through his singing. He’d be offended had he no clue how scared his Bambi was.

“What’s wrong, Bambi? Huh? Don’t you like it here with me?”

“I w-want to go h-home.” You stuttered.

Steve sighed and lifted your head up with his palms, kissing your forehead and leaning down to your watery eyeline to speak to you directly.

“Oh, baby…” his condescending tone gave away his faux concern for you, “you know I can’t let you do that.”

You began to heave, breaths coming in fast and heavy with panic - Steve almost felt a crack in his heart. Almost.

Truth be told, Steve knew you were it for him. Ever since he first saw you from the corner of his eye walking down the fruit and vegetable aisle, he’d been bewitched.

Youthful, tight skin, good looking.

You ticked all the boxes for him… and the rest of his client base.

He’d caught other women before - gorgeous, just the right amount of meat on their thighs to keep the buyers happy.

They were good. However, they didn’t compare to you.

Normally, Steve would be excited to find new prey. The cat and mouse play of picking out women to cut up and sell. But, you were different. Steve wanted you all for himself.

See, you weren’t just a pretty face, you were witty, funny, intelligent - maybe not smart enough to see what was coming, but he didn’t hold that against you, he was just too conniving after all.

And those goddamn dates he took you on, paving the path for his plan to come to fruition, when he found himself enjoying your company. Steve wanted to spend all of his time with you, willingly.

That was when he decided he didn’t want to go along with his usual plans. Instead, he wanted to date you. See where this relationship could go.

So, he took you to his house tucked away in a secluded area - the excuse of wanting a weekend without the modern world bothering you in disguise of your questioning to the lack of signal or Wi-Fi.

Honestly, he didn’t initially plan to drug you. The opportunity just… sprung onto him. Too tempting to not listen to his base instincts and ignore the spiked wine hidden in the alcohol cabinet.

A voice in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t be doing that, he vividly remembered it. The urge to get a kick out of his charades with someone as good as you overpowered it, though.

Steve wasn’t proud of himself afterwards, but how could he be blamed? He’d worked out a successful routine before he stumbled on you. Wooing girls fitting his mental meat quality checklist and eventually luring them into his second home. It was only natural to follow his instincts, what he’d made of himself.

You especially weren’t happy when you found yourself on his home operating table, opening your eyes to realise your boyfriend was taking your ass.

Weirdly, he didn’t find guilt in the thrill he took from that - that seemed to sicken you the most. He remembered how you lunged for him, screaming about the insanity of his pleasures when you woke up after the surgery to find him sitting in your caged prison. Cutting into your delicate skin to watch the stream of blood flow down your rump to then hearing him laughing to himself as he showed you the flesh stolen away from your body had your head spinning - dangling it from his fingers in front of your face.

It wasn’t too long after that you passed out from overexertion. If only you knew the way he used you to take care of himself after that.

It may have been confusing to understand, but Steve genuinely thought the world of you. Those few months of dating spent together changed his mind on whether he’d find a companion ever again.

Finding love alongside Steve’s hobby had been difficult to put it lightly. His first wife knew of his side activities coinciding with his doctoral career. That was why he settled being with her, someone who was accepting of who he was. But, although she may have put up with what he was doing, she didn’t initiate that spark within Steve - that buried, deep seated fire that begged to be set free. Steve wanted to be seen, to be loved in his entirety.

There was no shame in that.

That was what led to the downfall of his marriage, Steve was no longer interested in the farce of keeping up appearances with a woman who didn’t truly understand him. Which is why she had to go. Just divorcing wasn’t an option, she knew too much.

Then came along you. His pretty doe, who captured his heart from a glance.

As your hysteria whittled on, Steve hugged you tight to his chest.

He’d kept you here for a month in total now. Four glorious weeks of spending time with you alone, bonding together. Your feistiness only made his cock grow in his slacks whenever you put up a fight.

His little doe didn’t put out easy - just how he liked it.

As your tears continued to soak his dress shirt further, he shushed your cries, keeping you close and he swayed side to side in comfort.

The beeping of the oven hob, interrupted Steve’s attempt at soothing you. The meat was cooked and it was time to plate up the dinner he’d made for the two of you.

Bringing you away from his chest, Steve smoothed your hair behind your ears, wiping his thumbs under your swollen eyes to get rid of your tears. Holding your arm, he again directed you back towards the table to sit down, clamped your hands back into the cuffs attached before walking towards the kitchen.

Peaking over, Steve noticed you had calmed down and collected yourself by the time he was adding the peppermint sauce over the mashed potatoes and meat.

He had high hopes on your opinion of his cooking, what you thought mattered to him, believe it or not. It was his real passion beside becoming a plastic surgeon, and he wanted you of all people to like it.

Gracefully, Steve walked on over with his finished plates and set one on each placemat. Your head was bowed, eyes set on the meal set in front of you.

“What is it?”

Your mousy voice spoke up and had Steve looking down at you, lifting your chin up with two fingers so he could see your face.

“Your favourite, sweetheart. Steak and mashed potato.”

A shudder racked through your body as Steve smirked, dropping your face and grabbing the large napkin to fan out over your thighs. He smoothed the material over your legs and traced the tips of his fingers along your bare skin. The sight of you inching away didn’t sit well with Steve, pinching you to hear that familiar yelp he loved so much.

He began to get settled in his seat, combing his styled hair back with his fingers before beginning to cut up the meat on his plate.

“You remember our dinner date don't you, baby? You ordered the exact same thing when the waiter asked. Poor boy couldn’t keep his eyes to himself when I made you speak as I fucked you with my fingers.”

Steve knows you didn’t want him to hear the gasp that couldn’t be kept in. Adorable. You were still so shy around him.

But he didn’t appreciate how long your silence lingered, looking up to see you still staring down at your food, untouched.

The knife clashing down on the plate made you jump in your seat. You didn’t want to eat, no bother. Steve would help you.

Stabbing a cut of meat with his fork, Steve carefully leaned over the table to hold the steak up to your mouth for you to take a bite.

“Open up, my little doe.”

Steve saw your mouth opening up, happy to see you were cooperating with his request. You were finally making progress. Only for you to suddenly move your head to the side as he got close and bite down onto his hand, hard.

The fury built up in Steve as he snatched his hand away, fork scattering onto the table as he released it. In instant retaliation, Steve backhanded you across the face, sending your head whipping over to the side as blood spurted out your mouth.

“Bad girl.”

Blood from the force of his hit trickled down the corner of your mouth. You hadn’t moved from your spot for a second before Steve grabbed the front of your neck, bringing you closer over the table and ignoring your squeak of pain.

“Now, eat what I so graciously cooked you before I fucking force it down your throat.” His spit from the anger of his voice shot out onto your face. Steve shoved you back before slumping into his own seat once again.

His hot and cold nature always had you on edge, but you were used to it by now. Is that what he really deserved after being so thoughtful to you?

Steve observed you closely. Watching your every move should you try something like that again. Only would you get away with something like that once.

You picked up the fork dropped, meat still intact on the silverware and inspected it thoroughly. He knew you were looking for hints of poison or something that indicated he’d drugged you. He threatened it enough times for you to be wary.

He wasn’t sure what you would have preferred once you found out.

Opening your mouth, you placed the meat tenderly onto your tongue and closed to begin eating.

Steve waited until you had swallowed. Intently watching you chew before you were finished with your bite. He gave it a second before sitting back up, taking the fork from you and stabbing another piece, ready to start his meal.

Not before letting you in on his secret ingredient. “I always said you tasted good, didn’t I, Bambi?”

Cold dread visibly washed over your face as you went deadly quiet. Your hands began to abnormally shake. Steve just sat there and watched as your body went into emotional turmoil.

There wasn’t much you could have done, chained to the table, hyperventilating. It wasn’t even as if you could have stuck your fingers down your throat to throw it back up, fingers too far out of reach to even try. It didn’t stop you from dry heaving over the side of the table, retching loudly.

Eventually, the panic your body sent you in, along with your howling cries from despair allowed you to get worked up enough to throw up. Regurgitated meat mixed with bile landing on the carpet as Steve carried on eating - unfazed.

It took you a while for your body to finally relax, for your mind to comprehend what Steve just made you do. Sweat dripped down your face as you forced your body back upright, too weak to fully keep your eyes open as you hoarsely spoke.

“Why are you doing this?”

You looked defeated, body slumped with dark circles under your eyes, shivering like Steve hadn’t cranked the heating up.

Steve wiped his mouth. He understood you were an acquired taste, not for the lightheaded - you’d get used to it eventually though. He thought you were delicious, cleaning up his plate entirely.

He looked directly into your eyes after he finished eating, voice devoid of emotion. “Isn’t it obvious? I love you.”

Your reply is instant “No, you don’t.”

Darkness blackered his pupils. Body still and uptight as he went still. Steve pushed his plate away and leaned his forearms onto the table, never stopping staring as you squirmed in your seat.

“Don’t you ever question my love for you again. Do you hear me?”

You swallowed the presumed lump in your throat.

Steve couldn’t understand how you didn’t know how much he cared for you. You were here, eating in his dining room. He’d sacrificed customer sales by keeping you to himself. He loved you. You’d understand one day though. He’d make sure of it.

“Give it time, Bambi. I know you’ll learn to love me back.”

“And if I don’t?” There was one last inch of life in your eyes, a thin thread of hope holding on for dear life. Steve could see it clear as day, the embers in your irises dying out with each moment he took to answer.

He knew he had you then, the gut punch of his response blowing out the flame once and for all.

“Funny… you think you have a choice.”

[photogirl894]

Well...I've fallen down another rabbit hole with another show! This time, it's "Hazbin Hotel" 😁 And my gosh, if you need further proof that I have a type (which seems to be girl dads), my favorite character from the show is Lucifer 🥰

I'm gonna be honest, I never considered watching the show until I heard a song sung between Lucifer and his daughter and it's seriously the SWEETEST song I've ever heard!! 🥹💜 That got me wanting to watch the show and I watched it in a week, just in time for the season 1 finale. I freaking loved the show so much and Lucifer is such a great dad! He won me over in nothing flat! He also has an amazing singing voice (thanks to the talented Jeremy Jordan) and that definitely got me! Plus, look at him!! 😍

(Don't worry, I won't be writing any fics for him lol I don't mind listening to language, but I prefer not to write it...and Hazbin has a LOT of it 😝)

I'll be tagging this with spoilers, as well, as the finale only came out a couple days ago and this moodboard does have a couple spoilers.

[yoonia]

🖊

Hi Dia 🥰💜. Thank you for holding this event. I am excited to know your recs and more stories from different authors. It's been 2 months since i started following you, and I haven't read many stories, but Intertwine has my heart, mind, body, soul, and everything. I read the first part of it, and kept wondering what are they gonna do, Hoseok has called y/n again for collab/working together, and they both are cheating their partners, hehehe, ngl at last I cried when I read that Hoseok is engaged, but the instant smile I got when y/n's boyfriend is Namjoon(my love) 😂😭, a whirlwind of emotions.

I was about to request you for a pt. 2 but didn't wanna force, so I was making further stories in my head, and today, while submitting this ask, I learnt Intertwine is a duology?!? All this time, I feel so sad, I could've read it back in January rather than crying what happened later on(my mistake, I'll read it soon).

Can I get a moodboard for Intertwine, please, with black and white office setting Hoseok and Namjoon as Softie cute tall boyfriend 💖

Your New Reader, Aeri 💌

Thank you for reading Intertwine! I can't blame you for almost missing the second part. The original fic wasn't planned to be continued (it was always meant to end with a cliffhanger lol), and the second fic only came out a long time after the original, so I think a lot of people might have missed it as well.

I'm sorry if the fic haunted you in many ways, but I hope the second part can answer a lot of your questions if you ever have the chance to read it.

This is how I visualize Intertwine in my head. I'm trying not to spoil the final ending, but I hope you'll love it!

"Sometimes when the good things of our past appear in my head, I could still feel the pain from losing you," you whispered to him the moment you let go of the kiss. "I should be hating you still from leaving back then, instead of doing this with you." "I know," he said with a sorrowful look in his eyes. "I still regret the day I left. But what I regret most is that I didn't give you a proper goodbye." "That was our biggest mistake. And so is this," you told him, pulling him close to you and kissing him once more. It was addicting. The taste of his lips, the deep moan he exhaled when he deepened the kiss. You let him intertwined his tongue with yours, let him taste your mouth while you pressed your palms on his chest to feel his warmth. From Intertwine by @yoonia, requested by @mikrokookiex

𝖘𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖒 𝖑𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞: Dia's blogversary 2025

[indiaalphawhiskey]

fake fic title! "crescent moons fix broken hearts"

would love it if it could be hl? 👀

Sorry this took so long! I really needed to write something today to flex the muscle, I hope you and @awesomefringey (who submitted the t-shirt pic) like it. 🥰 (I tried to post this twice with a moodboard but Tumblr wouldn’t let me. 😒)

🌙 Crescent Moons Fix Broken Hearts

Sitting in the en suite of the lavish hotel room, the soft lighting of the vanity illuminating the planes of his face, Harry let the radical irony of what he was about to do wash over him.

It was a weird thing, he realized, this feeling of waiting for a moment your entire life – preserving it, building it up – only to have it finally, finally come in a form so different it was almost laughable.

Not almost. Harry did laugh.

Half because he caught sight of his ridiculously nervous expression in the mirror, and half because apparently, one minute someone could be the perfect pure, virginal (if a little sexually frustrated) Omega groom-to-be fitting their bespoke wedding suit in at a highly exclusive designer shop, and three days later, be that very same Omega, revenge and wildly expensive tequila shooting through their veins as they booked their would-have-been honeymoon suite to have raunchy sex with an Alpha they’d hired specifically to finally deflower them, once and for all.

Turns out getting dumped in a Saville Row dressing room because one’s ex-fiancé thought they were quote, “an uppity, frigidly cold fish who he probably had no sexual chemistry with anyway”, unquote, really lit a fire under one’s arse.

Harry flared his nose in anger, his thoughts murderous as images of his beautiful, wasted wedding invitations danced back into his mind, haunting him. His cheeks began their now familiar pinkening with his remembered humiliation, and then…

A soft knock unfortunately interrupted Harry’s montage of fantastic daydreams of running over every single one of his ex-fiancé’s prized watches to the intro of Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song.

“Come in,” he called out gently – or as gently as one could through gritted teeth.

As the door slid away, the unfamiliar, unassuming coolness of rosemary and sage rolled in slowly. Harry wasn’t used to it; accustomed to sharing spaces with the scent of warm whiskey and leather layered with that wretchedly expensive cologne Harry had always hated.

But back to the sage.

Sage, and rosemary, and cedar, and… he let the last note tickle his nose as he tried to name it.

“Are you okay?” Louis Tomlinson asked.

… and soap, Harry realized, oddly comforted even as he wondered whether the name was a pseudonym; wondered if it was standard procedure to print such a convincing alias on a discreet calling card that would eventually be passed across an elegant brunch table at the Dorchester.

(‘Niall, don’t be absurd,’ Harry had sniffed, trying his best to push the card back towards him without making a scene. ‘Jesus, just be normal and introduce me to one of your investment bankers, or something.’

Niall had given him a long, silent, and completely unimpressed look in response, glancing down at the engagement ring Harry was still wearing, if only to make a point. Ouch.

‘Harry, trust me. After this shitshow, you of all people deserve an orgasm on the first go. Treat yourself.’)

“I’m alright.” The polite platitude was out of his mouth accompanied by a reserved smile through the mirror before he could stop it.

It wasn’t like he could tell the truth anyway; not like he could say, ‘No, actually. I’m fucking livid, because a week ago I was about to be married, and today my financial manager called to ask if my credit card had been stolen because there was a suspicious charge from RoyaLT Enterprises for a ‘Platinum Package – All Inclusive’ on it when I was assured this service would be discreet, goddamnit!’

He bit his tongue, mostly because Harry didn’t tell Louis about the jilting; had decided against it the moment he had clicked ‘Platinum’, the description reading ‘two-week session with certified heat coach (Alpha) focused on scent familiarity, building sexual rapport, and discussing intimacy needs in addition to agreed heat cycle partnership.’

A virgin who had saved himself for marriage only to be jilted a week before his wedding because he was, in fact, a virgin, paying for sex and intimacy, trapped in a room with someone who really shouldn’t be as attractive as he had turned out to be… It had all just felt a little too humiliating.

Which, speaking of…

“Sorry,” Harry blurted out softly now, slowly coming to his senses. He turned to face Louis, his eyes widening. “We’re… we’re on the clock, aren’t we? Am I… I’m wasting your time?”

Louis chuckled softly – kindly, really – and casually leaned against the door frame, crossing his ankles. He was shirtless, Harry only now realized, as he watched him slip both hands into the pockets of his silk pajama bottoms, making them ride dangerously low against his happy trail.

Louis shook his head. “You’re supposed to take your time, get comfortable with me.” He raised his hand to gesture to himself – what he was wearing, and then the space between them. “This is all part of it.” He grinned wide, and Harry had noticed he was handsome when they’d met, but the genuine warmth of his smile is what made it. (Well, his smile, and his abs, and the still respectable but no less impressive hint of a bulge in his pajama bottoms…) “It’s called the boyfriend package for a reason.”

Funny, Harry thought then, feeling just a little bit… well, a little bit wet. He’d never had a boyfriend who looked quite like this.

Niall’s wise words began to reverberate in his mind: ‘Treat yourself.’

Harry bit back a cheeky smile. He intended to.

— Or, When Harry Styles did things, he did them right. Why should losing his virginity be any different?

[multiimoments]

Fanfic AU Wishlist Tag

What are 3 AUs you'd love to write/draw/etc & 3 you'd love to read? And with which ships?

[Optional: Tag 6 or more friends whose AU dreams you want to learn about!]

ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ:

✏️ The Holiday (2006) x Marylily and Wolfstar [Outlining!]

✏️ Kate and Leopold (2001) x Panville

✏️ Our Flag Means Death (2022–23) x Wolfstar (and others)

ʀᴇᴀᴅ:

📖 The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern x Dramione

📖 Anastasia (1997) x Jily

📖 Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo x Marauders (all of them, pls! especially Dorlene and Jegulus!) [note: I did learn today that one such fic exists!]

I was super excited, so I made some moodboards for IG! (I have learned how to use Pinterest, finally 🤌🏽)

Tagging everyone I can think of (and anyone else who wants to do it! 🥰): @emjayeingray @badhairred @dahlliiances @just--vi @toofadedtofight @wolfpadx @brigid-faye @heartsoncover @kat-m-toast @tigrrliily @spookeart @spookymoonie @cloaksnidget-3745 @imsiriuslyreading @howmanyfrecklesdoyousee @yourfriendlygryffindor @lavenderhaze @siriusly-sapphic @sleepstxtic @lucigoo @eurhythmix @summax2o @cancerravenclaw @the-noblehouseofblack @mochafrappiccinolatte @thisliminalspacedaydreams @kaaaaaaarf @thebibutterflyao3 @fiestylilmetalbendingqueen

[hippolotamus]

FanFic Friday

Rules: share a fic you wrote (or fan art or gif) that you are proud of! Moodboard optional!

Thanks for the tag @apothecarose 🥰

NGL it’s probably gonna be a bit before I answer with anything other than Whatever may come (your heart I will choose). It is my baby and I love it to death.

As a young man, Eddie Diaz meets, and falls in love with, Shannon. She’s new in town and every available guy wants to date her. Eddie is no exception. Determined to prove that he’s not soft, like his father accuses him of, Eddie pulls out all the stops to win her over. He walks with her in the evenings after he gets off work, takes her stargazing, offers to help her mother with a few odd jobs around their house. He even leaves single yellow roses on the windshield of her car when she tells him they’re her favorite. They officially become a couple after Shannon decides she’s done being wooed and finally asks Eddie on a date. She’s a free spirit and honestly? He kinda likes that, not having to work so hard to impress her because she seems to like him for who he is. Not for who he could be.

She’s gorgeous and she loves him and they’re great together. She is it for him. Eddie knows there is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changes.

Or The Story of Eddie and Christopher Diaz

No pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @giddyupbuck @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @vanillahigh00 @disasterbuckdiaz @elvensorceress @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @honestlydarkprincess @eddiediaztho @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @spaceprincessem @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @heartshapedvows @loserdiaz @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @your-catfish-friend @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rmd-writes @ladydorian05 @statueinthestone @buddierights @911onabc @jesuisici33 @pirrusstuff @eowon @cowboy-buddie

[spookyserenades]

hii Dana !! I hope you're doing great, lovely! Any sanctity crumbs?? LOVE the mood boards!! You have me HOOKED on a fic I haven't even read 😪 What are you planning with the reader's characterisation and/or the boys in general?? Super excited for this new fic can't wait for it to be released. Any release date in mind? Will be ferally, yet patiently, waiting 🧍‍♂️

HIIII babe! I hope you're amazing, too! I am finally starting to feel normal after my cold 🥰 I'm excited for Sanctity I'm vibrating, I'm glad you like the moodboards I want to add more to them soon, maybe make some playlists! For the reader, I want her to be different from Trovaille's Y/N; but their similarities lie in their naivety. Sanctity Y/N's rough around the edges vibe is a main difference, but also the way that she is far removed from society makes her street smarts a little... dull. Y/N in Trouvaille has more of a trusting personality, Sanctity's does not (for good reason LOL.) A few asks back I added rough ideas for the boy's characters and backstories so far if you wanna check that out. (or search #sanctity on my blog :)) As for release date for the first chapter, I'm hoping for fall, perhaps September/October? The posting dates for Sanctity will be more lax, I'm not sure I want such strict deadlines for it. BUT because I love you I'll give you another little snippet of what I've written so far ❤️

God must have felt particularly cruel the day he decided to bestow Y/N with one of the world’s rarest blood types: the coveted AB-, a sought-after type for many vampires. Apparently, all of the blood types had different tastes, but Y/N hardly believed that. Blood was blood; tinny, salty, and a nauseating reminder of fragile mortality. There was a reason she had hidden from the world for many years, drifting from place to place. Those with AB- blood were hardly at Sanctuaries for long before a coven would promptly request them as their live-in donor. Y/N was basically living on borrowed time– she often wondered if her bitterness leached into her bloodstream and spoiled the ‘product’.

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 02/25/2024

Nerdie! You saw it right! He won! *hugs tightly*

Yes he did! 🥰 We're all so happy for him! Finally!

We're also buzzing about how he looks like he's on the cover of a romance novel. Maybe on a ranch, maybe in the 1800's. It's a pretty versatile look. He likes his deep V's....

As we all should. Also, I'm taking notes on that. *scribbles*

Anything new besides, well clearly pirate adventures?

Pirates have scurvy and Pedro is well nourished so none of that. Other ideas for his characters. Ezra and Pero might have scurvy though. I did manage to write some this week. It's been busy. 👀 Ugh...real life stuff. Nothing major. Just needs to be done.

Nerdie's fics:

Guiding Light (Ezra one shot - I was chatting with @lady-bess and had the idea for this. I always have Ezra in some crime. 😎)

Lunch is happening right? (Part two of my summer romance Javi G fic. Not sure how many parts.)

He told me his name (Din Djarin x plus size female reader) I wrote it after reading a new Din fic by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (will be listed below. I'd still call it moody because despite writing, I still have trouble with my vocabulary. 🤣 It is pretty though. I'm working on a follow-up since people asked 👀)

Can't win carino (Javi G one shot - for @i-own-loki because she gave me the idea and the moodboard so I ran with it.)

The Man Next Door (Jake Lockley one shot for @megamindsecretlair because she kinda asked, more like I asked her what she wanted in it. She asked for action and smut. I might try more action in fics later.)

Get a room you two and BONE (Part two of my Tim Rockford comedy series which now has romance? I binged too much B99, watched a bit of Castle and a few episodes of Kojak with my mom. The insanity will only increase with part three but maybe there might be some growth between Tim and Doc? Or a hippo.)

Nerdie I thought you said you were busy....that's six fics...

I was and some of them I had been working on for a while. I also had some insomnia (that lead to parts two and three of the Tim Rockford fic). Anyway, on to the main event! 😘

Nerdie's fic recommendations! or things I read this week. 😄

14 x kisses by @trulybetty (Jack Daniels x reader) Part of her 29 days of valentines for February.

Sorgan Girls Are Easy - Solo Din Djarin by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (the fic that inspired my Din - her Din has 100% more smut)

Half of you - chapter 3 by @foxilayde (Santiago Garcia x fem. reader) Slow burn series - love it and trying to read it slowly to savor it.

Falling for you by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Javi Pena x fem reader) A bittersweet read that had me wonder what was next but I was hopeful.

Sunday Naps by @javierpena-inatacvest (Frankie Morales x fem reader) More proof that cuddling with Frankie leads to wonderful things.

Poe Dameron falling in love with his shy best friend (GN reader) by @i-belong-to-the-stars What one hopes for if you're shy and you're in love with those curls...er Poe. 🫣

Mystery Strain by @rebel-held (Dieter Bravo x GN reader) All kinks are valid and who doesn't love Dieter with a belly? 😘

Bulletproof by @laurfilijames (Jax Teller x fem reader) She wrote poetic porn with feelings. I was overcome, titllated and confused.

A girl walks into a bookshop by @oonajaeadira (Ezra x fem reader) Soft Ezra with a bookshop, yes please! 😄

Beneath the mask by @saradika (Din Djarin x fem reader) A medieval knight Din...so where does one pick up the velvet dress?

Loneliness by @sirowsky (Pero Tovar x GN reader) Pondering Pero in your local Park? Highly recommended for Valentine's Day.

15 x cashmere by @trulybetty (Joel Miller x GN reader) What thread count was it that encouraged Joel to hop in bed in such a state? For my personal file. 👀

He sees you by @maggiemayhemnj (Joel Miller x reader) This writer will tell you she just loves words. I would argue that the words love her in a unique way that makes you see the things. 💜

16 x dance by @trulybetty (Tim Rockford x reader) I pictured him dancing with the reader in his trench coat. @secretelephanttattoo (El) is to the holsters as I am to the trench coat. 🤣 In my mind.

Quiet Moments Collection by @secretelephanttattoo (various Pedro characters x reader) It’s the small instances that you think don’t matter, that are the most meaningful.

Plus One by @always-andromeda (Frankie Morales x fem reader) Always a fan of two idiots in love, even with their spat.

A Strange Fate by @youandmeand5bucks (Silva x fem reader) Two people who came together because of life circumtances. Are they really satisfied?

A Beskar Valentine by @firstofficerwiggles (Din Djarin x female reader) Awesome username, it makes me giggle. Din will be ten steps ahead and still fifteen behind when it comes to matters of the heart. My guy is an overthinking champion.

Seven by @lokischocolatefountain (Javier Pena x reader) A simple discussion about children leads Javier to a drastic solution.

To be Explored Later by @legendary-pink-dot (Frankie Morales x fem reader x Santiago Garcia) aka Ms. Curls if ya nasty! 😘 Somehow I missed the gem of a sandwich. How the reader was able to think about anything is beyond me.

Red Light Glow by @missredherring (Lucian Flores x fem reader) This man has me and @rhoorl keeping track of his silk shirt and gold chain. We would accept his call. The guilt would go away too quickly if we felt it at all. 😌

Incarnadine by @iamskyereads (Pero Tovar x fem reader) This Pero has me swoon with his care toward the reader, his love of baths (I just want him to soak and relax - he's been earning coin!), and his word choice. This is another person that words appear to favor. 💜

Not like I fangirled over these writers this week or anything 👀

What on the docket for this week Nerdie?

Part three of the Javi G summer romance

Maybe...Roc & Doc part three I don't like sitting on finished parts but then I whine about having no motivation for the next part. 👀 I make no sense.

March is toward the end of the week so my March Spring Prompts will start! I scheduled the first six days I think. I got anxious about getting behind (which isn't the point of doing them but anxiety doesn't care) and did some in advance. I like how they're coming along and that they're short. Unlike this update. 🤣 They won't have summaries, but will have warnings, tags and notes.

And because I hear series and I think "I should start another one!" I decided to write an Ezra series. How did I happen upon our favorites prospector/scoundrel/reluctant father figure? I've been reading works by @morallyinept @maggiemayhemnj and @magpiepills

Ezra intimidated me because of his language, but actually, I think I'd get along with him because he puts on a persona with a great deal of performance. It's the audience's job to figure out if you're serious or not. Or at least that's how I approached him. 🤨 This could go badly. I stuck him on the bayou with an air boat and I want him to cook gumbo. *full delusional achievement unlocked*

Special shout-outs to @connectioneverywhere and @soft-girl-musings for sending me lovely asks this week.

Also to @inept-the-magnificent who called Tim Rockford her sidepiece and I am still very tickled. 🤣

This update was long 🤗 Hehe

Love Nerdie ❤️