#otherwise i'm really loving this calendar

[madegeeky]

BLOOD IT WILL TAKE BLOOD day 10: more lip products! In this case a lip scrub and a lip sleeping mask.

I have used both of these before (though a different scent) and really like both of them. The scrub has a good texture in it but not too rough when giving it a bit of pressure. The lip mask is amazing. It's wonderfully greasy and it feels so refreshing on your lips. I'm actually almost out so I'm glad to get these.

The smell is the same as yesterday's oil/gloss and lip conditioner but more diluted: a spiced sort of sent like mulled wine or hot spiced cider. Although, if the lip mask anything like the other one I have, it's a little waxy on top and so you don't really experience the full force of the smell until you break that up.

I may be keeping the lip mask. I'm almost out of my current one and so really need another one. However, it's not exactly the sort of scent I'd want on my lips before I go to bed (it's super strong) so I'm putting it to the side for now to see if a smell I like better comes along. If I end up with a different one, I'll be passing this one on to my Mom or sister, I think.

[slashbitch2]

The Proposal AU! (part two)

Summary: when your boss Agatha faces the threat of deportation, she convinces you to marry her in return for a promotion- and things only get more complicated with a trip to Salem, an eccentric tarot-card-reading aunt, and a homophobic mother to convince.

Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

TW: deportation (which I admit I know very little about I'm not American lol) suggestive themes, sort of arranged marriage

W.C: roughly 1.3k words

PARTS: ONE, THREE

“There’s no way this is going to work.” You said, bouncing your leg underneath the table, finding it the only outlet for the sickening anxiety weighing down upon you.

To your left, Agatha was scrolling on her phone, nonchalant and entirely unaffected by your panic.

Realising you weren’t going to get a response; you allowed your gaze to travel across the room. It was barren, impersonal and imposing. The chair opposite was currently empty as you waited for someone to arrive. Who, you weren’t quite sure. You really didn’t understand anything about this entire process, and you silently prayed that Agatha did.

Agatha, who was infuriatingly casual about the whole thing. It wouldn’t surprise you if she didn’t understand the process, if she was just winging it- if she had dragged you into all this just to torture you. In an attempt to pass the time, you tried racking your brains for something you might’ve done wrong recently. A coffee order you had messed up, a report you had forgotten to submit, a mistake you might’ve made with her calendar. Yet, nothing came to mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you looked Agatha up and down. Her coat was neatly folded over the back of the chair that she was slumped in, rather ungracefully you noted. She was wearing a purple jumper with a broach pinned to the collar, one you had never seen her without. You had always longed to ask her whether there was some meaning behind it, but knew better than to expect a genuine answer.

You glanced up at her face, framed by strands of dark brown hair falling from a messy bun, and watched as she chewed on her lip. Now this was a habit you hadn’t noticed before.

“Are you nervous?” You interrogated after spending a second longer staring at her lips than was socially acceptable.

“Why would I be? She murmured, not bothering to look up from her phone. “I have my gorgeous fiancé here with me.”

You sighed, willing her to show one ounce of normal human emotion and opening your mouth to refute.

“Well, isn’t that just lovely to hear.”

Both you and Agatha jumped in your seats at the sound of a foreign voice.

The man rounded the desk, dressed in a perfectly tailored, colourless suit. He had neatly combed grey hair and an impassive expression. “Lovely to meet you both.” He said, routinely taking his seat opposite. “I’m Tyler Hayward and I’ll be handling your case Miss…” the man’s eyes travelled across the file already opened on his desk. “Miss Harkness.” He finished, smiling up at you both coldly.

“Pleasures all mine.” Agatha smirked, tucking her phone away to pay the man full attention.

Finding your mouth suddenly dry, you nodded with a grimace that you hoped came across more like a smile.

“So, I have one question.” Hayward clasped his hands together, eyes darting between you both before landing specifically on you. He licked his lips, prolonging the tense silence, then finally, “Are you committing fraud to avoid her deportation so that she may keep her position at the company you work at?”

Right then and there, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating.

“That’s insane!” Agatha exclaimed, faking outrage as she slammed her palm down onto the desk- ever one for the dramatics. “The audacity to even suggest such a thing!”

You looked over at Hayward, seeing the glint in his otherwise frigid composure. You knew this was the kind of reaction he had hoped for, fake or not, and while this kind of intimidation tactic worked for Agatha with incompetent employees, it wouldn’t work on this occasion. She was doing herself no favours in trying to sell this sham marriage, and any remaining hope you held that she had a plan immediately went out the window.

“How dare you, we’re in love!” Agatha continued. “And I do not appreciate those kinds of insinuations that-“

“Hey, hold on now, love.” You intervened, ignoring how unnatural it felt to be referring to your boss in such a way. “He’s just doing his job.” Swallowing back your discomfort, you reached over to place a soothing hand on Agatha’s thigh, trying to ignore the way her skin radiated warmth through the layer of fabric. “But no, Mr Hayward, there is nothing fraudulent about the way I feel for Agatha. Unconventional, maybe. But definitely real.” You said through gritted teeth, attempting to force as much affection into your gaze as you could.

Which was especially hard with the way Agatha was staring back at you: a mixture of impressed, confused, and suggestive…

“My apologies.” Agatha said, placing her hand over yours. “I just get upset when people make assumptions about my personal life.”

“I understand that.” Hayward nodded, pulling your attention away from Agatha and back to him. “And you’re right it is unconventional for a relationship between an employer and employee. How, might I ask, does the company feel about this? I’m surprised they would allow such a relationship.” He inquired, though his curiosity wasn’t genuine. He knew that it wouldn’t be permitted, that this was a glaring flaw in your non-existent plan.

“The truth is…” You began, swallowed hard and thought desperately about how to respond. “Agatha and I… we’re just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love… but did.” You shrugged, pretending as though you were reliving such great hardships. “And we couldn’t tell anyone we work with... As you pointed out, it would be deeply inappropriate.”

You smiled sadly, praying that Agatha would jump in so you wouldn’t have to monologue any longer. Each word you worried over, just waiting for you to slip up and have Hayward jump in and arrest you for fraud. You could practically feel the handcuffs around your wrists now, the cold metal tight against your skin, cutting into your flesh, constricting your movement. You felt your heart start to pound, your palms start to sweat.

Agatha must’ve felt you tensing up, as suddenly, you felt her thumb begin to trace soothing patterns against the top of your hand. Round and round. Real and yet ever so gentle. The soft contact drew you back into the moment, back to her.

Back to Hayward…

“So, no co-workers will be able to vouch for you.” He looked down at his file, grabbed a pen and scribbled something down. “What about family? Have the two of you told your parents about this forbidden love?”  He questioned, narrow-eyed and mocking.

“Oh, I…” You grit your teeth together, sucking in a lungful of air as you pondered how this would look. “My parents are out of the country right now.”

“Of course they are.” Hayward chuckled maliciously, jotting more down on his form.

“Well, my mother is actually on a road trip through the country with some… other relatives.” Agatha chimed in, regaining Hayward’s attention. “In fact, we were planning on joining up with them in Salem this weekend to share the wonderful news.”

“We were?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

“Oh yeah, how could you forget, sweetheart?” She fake-reprimanded. “It’s Aunt Lilia’s big sixtieth birthday road trip, the whole family’s coming together to surprise her.”

“Right…” You nodded along, though you couldn’t rid yourself of the frown adorning your face. You recognised what Agatha was doing. She was overcompensating, but she was only going to complicate this arrangement even further.

“How lovely.” Hayward drawled. “I suppose you’ll both be travelling up tomorrow then?”

“That we will.” Agatha gulped, your eyes tracing the movement of her throat.

You turned back to Hayward and met his evident annoyance with a smile, one more genuine. You didn’t like the man. You wanted to prove him wrong...

“I for one can’t wait!”

NEXT PART

[skullvgirl]

acting like they forgot yall had plans together

incl ;; isagi, bachira, barou, kunigami, shidou

warnings ;; fem reader

an's ;; was gonna make this a samu version but I got lazy uh, here hc's

isagi

you text him on friday, a day before your supposed plans and let me tell you he's freaking OUT. he doesn't want to tell you he forgot, and now your asking him what to wear and man could it get any worse?

apparently it could because now your asking him who he should bring and telling him how excited you are and much you've been lookikg forward to it.

he feel like the worst boyfriend on earth and is wondering if he should ask one of the friends that your bringing ( apparently ) and so he devises a plan.

"YN, you said you were bringing [ Friends Name ] Right?" And you can't help but continue the joke and accusingly say, "What?! No, was that supposed to be some sort of joke?"

Now, he feels like shit for even suggesting and is also concerned about what [ Friends Name ] did. He couldn't have forgot that too could he?

"Y-yeah, no I just...yeah."

You burst out laughing and he realizes this is probably another one of your "ticktack trends"

You hold his face softly, "Oh poor baby, it was just a joke we dont have any plans."

His face is hot and he moves your hands away to go pout on the couch. "Stop doing that..you were scaring me..."

"Aw was I? Don't worry, It was fun watching you question your sanity."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better..."

bachira

"We had plans!?" Immediately, without a second thought. And you can't contain your laughter, his hands wete placed comically on the sides of his head, his mouth wide open from shock and confusion.

"Dude, no."

"Oh thank God." He places a hand over his heart.

"Really? You werent even gonna try and play along? What if it was for real and I got mad"

He paused for a moment, thinking over the idea seriously.

"I guess you could put me in NTT for a bit maybe.." he side eyed you breasts and now you were even more confused.

"NTT?"

"No titty timeout"

You burst out laughing and Bachira couldn't help but grin at your reaction. He loved making you laugh.

"Sure, I guess I could. Probably make sure you'd remember next time huh?"

"100% !"

barou

"no we don't. now sit down, I wanna feel my girlfriend."

You roll your eyes and didn't bother fighting his party pooping attitude. You sat down and cuddled up next to his warm body.

"How do you know, you could have forgot..."

"It's not marked on my calendar, and even if it wasn't I'd never forget"

You glanced at the calendar, everything Barou needed to do in the future was meticulously marked on that damned stupid calender.

Should've wrote a fake date there...

"Who do you take me for seriously? Even if you wrote a fake date I would've known."

Oop! Did you say that out loud? No, it was just Barou and his stupidly good sense of you. Weirdo.

"Ugh, you suck, lets just watch" You were frowning but snuggles closer too him.

"Says the one latched to my chest..."

"Shhhh, the show..."

kunigami

He knows you guys don't actually have plans but he plays along anyways. "Uh huh, and did you still wanna go at 6?"

Somehow gaslights you into thinking that you forgot yall had plans. But you should've known otherwise from the way he was smiling. A cheshire grin spread across his face agreeing with everything you say in full confidence, untill finally you break.

"Im lying! We don't have plans, also a Mega Hotel? What are you talking about?"

He's laughing in your face and your cheeks light up.

"Hey! Get your own joke meanie!"

shidou

"deadass?"

you continue playing the act. "yes? you didn't forget did you?"

"say you swear." he's done a full 180° too see you now, staring incredulously into your eyes, waiting for a response.

"I swear—why would I be lying?"

"No way.." he holds his hands on his head. "No fucking way..." he was breathless, like it was impossible for him to believe what you were saying was true.

"YN, I'm gonna be so serious. I think i must be high, cause I cannot remember a single discussion of planning anything right now."

"Really dude?" You asked, unimpressed. He cocked his head adorably. "It was a joke.

"Oh shit, thank God. I thought I was a goner." he turns back around, relief filling his voice.

"Seriously? What if it wasn't a joke?"

"You'd forgive me"

You gaped at his answer, "And what makes you sure of that?" you asked sassily.

"You love me." he said confidently.

"I do, what's your point?"

"You love me, that is the point." He said, nodding his head sure of himself.

"Right..."

an's ;; guys, i think tumblr is deleting my rq's wtf 🤒

[woneuntonzz]

ᯓ★ 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

💿 ; uh-oh... did he really forget your special day?

ot7 idol!riize x afab!reader ( 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 .ᐟ )

📨 requested by anon !! ≈

contains: fluff, cussing, vv light-hearted (i think), some are funny —i tried

- - - - - - - - - - - more under the cut .ᐟ - - - - - - - - - - -

shotaro - “the cold never bothered me anyway~”

When he got home from dance practice, he was exhausted like he'd always be after a long day of work, dragging himself along the considerable space of your apartment, and letting his body fall into the sheets. “Get up, your sweat is getting all over my sheets! I just changed that!” Your passive aggressiveness wasn't so passive anymore, and he'd bring himself to stand up. He just stood there, eyeing your figure pacing around the room. You finally looked into his lost eyes, “I'll change them for you.” he says.  You thought he had texted you earlier that day that he'll see you that night because he had a surprise, but his behavior could say otherwise. “Jerk.” “Wait, what did I do?” he tried to reach for your wrist, your soft hand. “Lovely?” Thankfully, the calendar was hung by the door, and when you slammed it with all the force you had, the calendar would fall. He picked it up and hung it back, then he saw the date. Shit. It even had a doodle of a little birthday cake on it. Your body was slumped on the couch, and suddenly you'd feel a pair of arms snaking down your body, both of which you pushed away but he persisted. “I'm sorry lovely, please let me make it up to you.” he had his face buried in your neck from behind, he left a little kiss, and an electrifying feeling.  The night would end up with the two of you in bed, getting all comfy and cuddled up, and for good measure, you made sure he wore the thing —the thing he seemed to despise so much and swore you'd never catch him wearing, ever— whilst you had a studio ghibli movie marathon, and of course before that you had to have a little photoshoot. “Pose for the camera Queen Elsa!” “This dress is a little itchy, did you even wash it?” “Did you even remember my birthday?” “Okay, sorry. You win." Still, he gives you the sweetest smile he could pull out, and at the end of the day you'd be all cuddled up in bed, the zipper of the dress he wore opened all the way so he could comfortably lie himself, your arms around his neck and his around your waist. He'd let you bury yourself into his warm embrace, placing a tender kiss on your forehead that lingered for long until he softly uttered, “I'm really sorry lovely, I shouldn't have forgotten, happy birthday.” “It's okay, I know you have a lot on your mind, you have a come back to prepare for after all.” Even with your serene voice, he'd still feel guilty for having forgotten your special day, and it would be the sweet sounds of your lips moving against each other in the same rhythm that'll relieve you both of the negativity.

eunseok - “open the door.”

He was feeling uneasy all day, but he had to hide it since he was in a fan meet —well, meeting fans. Behind all his smiles and heart poses, there was an itch in his brain he couldn't quite pick up on. Oh, right, my girlfriend's gonna be here —he'd skillfully and discreetly search for you within the crowds of fans. He knew he would have spotted you easily for being so fond of you, but you weren't there. Odd, he figured he should just wait for you to pop up next to one of his fansites. But the day has already ended and he still hasn't seen you.  Finally he got to check his phone. He'd finally caught up to the ant that crawled around in his mind. He tried messaging you a little, hi birthday girl —and with a cheeky expression on his face, he'd add, you're hotter than the flames on your birthday candles —you left him on read.  It was easy for him to explain that he had work, and you knew, because you said you were going to be in that fan meet. But unlike the last time where he greeted you happy birthday first thing in the morning, you pretty much concluded that he forgot. He did have plenty of time to greet you before the fan meet, so why didn't he? When they got back to the dorms, he made sure to call you as soon as he had locked himself up in his room. “I'm really sorry princess, I wish I could've seen you today, why didn't you come?” “I did… oh my God you don't love me anymore.” “NO, there's no way… I'm really sorry, step on me, use me, abuse me—” “I forgive you, stop.” Your laughter, filled his ears, and it was all he needed to hear. “And how bold of you to assume I had a birthday cake.” He'd laugh for a bit, then suddenly he'd reply with a stern voice. “Open the door.” “Are you outside?” He kept himself eerily quiet on the other side of the line. “Eunseok?” “No. But I got a cake delivered for you.” —it was a cake of your favorite character, and a little note was stuck to it, see? you're definitely hotter than your birthday candles (there's actually no candles lol the shop ran out :D).

sungchan - “good morning, baby.”

You were already used to your boyfriend's frequent absence, he is an idol after all, and despite that fact, your love for each other is inevitable. He was out of the country for a music video shooting, he had told you the full details, given you updates, and even promised to call you so in some way you could be with him whilst he explored around the tourist spots with his other group members.  It's 11:50 pm where you're at, where he was, he's probably working. You sighed, you had about ten minutes left before your birthday ended.  You sat on your bed, body pressed against your thighs, resting your head on your knees whilst you hugged them. You were all alone with your tiny projector, rewatching the episodes of the netflix series you had started with him, and promised to finish with him. You could almost feel his arms around you as you reminisced of the times when you two would just huddle against each other, him whispering sweet little nothings as you watched your shared favorite series. You'd never move onto the next episode without him, so before that new episode could start, you turned it off. You went back to your spot, still sitting up, blankly staring at the white space of your wall. His presence, his touch, his voice, it would all remain a wish as your eyes slowly shut themselves, filling your vision with darkness and guiding you to dreamland.  “...miss you… I love you so much… sorry…” —the sound of his voice, it was very close to your ears, but it sounded faint. You longed so much for him that you slept through it, thinking it was your dreams, because if it was you wouldn't want to wake up for a while.  Waking up, you'd feel trapped, trapped in… “Good morning, baby.” his arms.  You stared into his eyes, they were tired, but still they displayed affection, only for you.  You gently moved his arm, and as his hold on you loosened, you sat up to check the time, 12:00 pm. “Bambi? what are you doing here?” “We finished filming earlier yesterday.” he'd sit up too, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, very gently, he'd lay your head against his beating heart. “I kind of —forgot about your birthday.” he'd start caressing your hair. “I meant to call you before we got to the airport, but then I checked the time, you were already asleep.” You shifted yourself, laying your side against him. He'd trap you in his arms once again, holding you so close and tightly like he'd never want to let go of you.  You look up at him, unable to hold himself back, his lips would fall into yours, the warm sensations taking over as you drowned yourselves in each other's fervor. 

wonbin - “i forgot to feed my cat.”

“You give me the rest of your ice cream if he forgot.” “Bet.”  It was a music show day for RIIZE, work, as usual. Anton and Sohee bickering wasn't anything new, but them betting over something? Wonbin knew he'd fallen victim. “What are you two betting on?” The youngest two just stared at him, Anton bit his lip, holding back a smile. “Say Binnie, what day is it today?” “Tuesday?” —Sohee's mouth formed a little 'o' whilst Anton rolled his eyes, shoulders drooping down dramatically. “What? it's Tuesday.” “Wow, she should really stop with the princess treatment.” Wonbin only laughs at Anton's retort. “Happy Birthday Y/n.” Wonbin panicked at the mention of your name around staff, mainly his worry was at that, then, he realized. “Birthday?” “Aww, Binnie forgot.” Wonbin's mouth went agape, dismissing Sohee's teasing.  Wonbin shook his head, grabbing his phone that rested beside him on the waiting room sofa, he messages you, meet at the vending machine? :> You'd meet him by the vending machine, you had to bring along one of your own group members so as to not raise suspicion, while also pretending to be there for nothing more than a refresher.  “Happy birthday.” he quietly utters, as he reaches down to grab the soda from the dispensing slot. He'd give you the soda, and it had a little note on it.

i love you, i hope you never forget, like how i forgot your birthday :3 You saw him suppressing his laughter, he was lucky he's adorable, and you could never get mad at him since you were in the same line of work, it was easy for you to understand. But of course, being the best girlfriend you are, you'd give your fans a little tmi in your birthday live. “How's my pet cat? Well, Binnie forgot about my birthday, kinda hurts, but pets are pets. You don't feed them, they forget.” —he was watching when you said that, let's just say Sohee and Anton didn't keep very quiet.

seunghan - “i ate shinchan twice, wink, wink.”

The bright wave of sunlight was enough for you to tell that this day was going to be the best day of your life, and it would be for as long as your friends were around. They'd throw you a surprise birthday party and you'd spend the next twelve hours playing cards against humanity and being unhinged young adults trying your damndest not to get a noise complaint from your apartment neighbors. Despite the effects of your friends' urging to continue the night with some drinking, you'd refuse because you were expecting company later that night, him.  You hadn't changed from your birthday fit, it was in your favorite colors too. You kept it on, wanting to show it off to your boyfriend.  You expected a smiley Seunghan, running up to the couch to pick you up and spin you around, peppering kisses all over your face, but when he walked through the door, his head hung low. When he looked up and met your eyes, he could only let out a frail smile. You could see his exhaustion through his eyes.  He sat down on the couch, next to you, and laid his head atop of the couch's backrest, and his eyes fell on you, then on your lips. You knew what he needed, and so you planted a soft kiss on his lips, that would later turn into a heated one. You'd straddle his hips, “What were you up to today babe? you're looking a little too beautiful right now.” he uttered against your lips.  Your giggle would cause a ruckus in his heart. It was so delightful, yet he didn't foresee it. “What are you laughing at?” “My friends got me a shinchan cake, they told me to keep it all for myself, but I want to share it with you.” his slightly furrowed eyebrows would soon soften.  “Oh fuck, sorry, happy birthday babe.” he gives you another quick kiss. “I forgot I was supposed to buy you something.” “Well, what is it babe?” “Can't say, it's a surprise.” “What if…” you leaned in closer to his ear. “... you save that gift for my next birthday and give me something else tonight?” Seunghan was late to practice the next day. 

sohee - “birthday, yes. happy, never.”

Sohee woke up in a haze, not to be that kind of person, but he definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed. He still had his special mc duties though, so he was up and went on about his day. Well of course, every morning would never be complete without messaging his girlfriend, good morning bub :D But before you could reply, another message would follow shortly,

gonna be vv busy with m countdown todei, but i'll talk to u again as soon as i get off!! —you smiled. This alone was already the sweetest birthday present of all.  The thing is, it wasn't meant to be anything more than just the usual for Sohee. He'd proceed with his job, beaming at everyone and the cameras, elated, but only because he was looking forward to hearing your voice again towards the end of the day.  “I filmed a TikTok with Taeyong, I'm so happy.” —finally, he was able to talk to you again.  “I can tell.” you chuckled, looking at his smile through your phone screen.  You were happy too, but he seemed to have forgotten something.  “I filmed a TikTok too, do you want to see it?” “Yes! Is that even a question?” you shook your head, chuckling once more.  You showed him the video using your laptop. You held your phone close enough, flipping Sohee's view to the back cam, and he'd watch your TikTok wide-eyed. When the video was done, you flipped it back to the front cam, showing him your brazen smile. “Happy birthday bub, you're so hot.” You laughed. “You didn't forget, right?” “No, no!” You kept laughing, he definitely didn't forget, he's definitely not sweating buckets because you've caught him. “Okay, maybe I did —but you said in the video 'happy, never', you're happy, right? I can take a quick run to you right now.”  “I'm happy, I had fun with my friends today.” “That's so emo of you though, suddenly you beat me at my lip sync game, lip syncing to some emo ass audio, you can't even sing the lyrics to our songs.” “Excuse me?”  “Just kidding hehe, I love you and you're so hot.” He took that quick run to your place, and you'd add another video into your TikTok drafts. 

anton - “i'll ra-pa-pa-punch your face.”

He'd be woken up by Sungchan saying, “'Ton, we have a recording today, get up.” He'd groan softly, somehow still so worn out even after passing out for nearly eleven hours.  He sat up, still groggy. He checked for his phone, and the time, Already 9:00 am? —he'd go on about his morning routine, like usual. He got on the van with the other members, yawning like it was his last when he got it. He'd only be able to displace his drowsiness once he got out of the vehicle, scrolling on his phone. The date, recording day, and —suddenly he was wide awake. The boys were gathered around the control booth, listening to the demo of their next title track. “Oh, and Y/n will be the co-producer for this album.” The members spared Anton a glance, as if checking up on him.  When you got in the studio, you would be warmly welcomed by the boys, all but him. He acted like it was the very first time he'd meet you. To be fair, your relationship was a secret to everyone else, and you couldn't really be open about it at work, but he acted odd. He was a wee bit distant, and a lot more reserved. It wasn't your first time working with RIIZE either, so it was odd to say the least. At some point Wonbin would ask you, “Are you gonna beat up Anton?” because your smile would diminish when it was Anton's turn to record.  When it was time to say goodbye, the boys would greet you happy birthday in chorus, Anton would bow with them, but he didn't speak, even more of a reason for you to avoid his eyes until he left. You didn't want to think much of it, and so you continued to work, staying out late in the studio with the other producers, and you'd keep working till they left —though, they wouldn't leave without wishing you happy birthday and urging you to rest and celebrate at home, but you insisted.  You'd drift asleep, head propped on your fist. You were thinking, thinking of what could've gotten into Anton, why was he acting that way? “Happy Birthday love.” you almost jumped off of your seat, awakened by Anton's voice in the recording booth. “Was the door not locked? how did you get in there?”  “The door was quite unlocked, I'd say.” he uttered to the microphone. “And I kind of forgot your birthday —and the present I bought.” his eyes pointed towards the gift bag that rested on the floor next to you.  “Thank you Tony, but, you could've just told me. It's okay. I was worried about why you were ignoring me…” He rushed to answer when he saw your fleeting smile. “I just felt bad. I'm really sorry, it's stupid. I didn't want to approach you empty handed so I went back to the dorms to grab your present.” Your sudden laughter caught him off-guard. “I know, I know, it's embarrassing.” “No, no. I just can't believe you're still in there.” he was still in the recording booth, talking to you through the microphone input.  “Well, I also wanted to re-record my parts. I couldn't focus earlier because you were boring holes into my soul.” “Well, I'm sorry if YOU forgot my birthday.” “Chill, I was only joking, love.”

well this kinda sucked self-indulgence at its finest (pls don't bully me for almost making anton's into a whole ass fic hehe) ; 💿

[rainbowsky]

On GG's album, and hints of what was to come

As everyone here likely already knows, I'm completely losing it over the news of a full album from GG. There's a lot more to all of this that I haven't yet discussed, so let's dig into it. I have thoughts...

Disclaimer: Most of what's discussed here is rumor and interpretation, and could be inaccurate. We'll find out what's really happening soon enough!

I never dared dream that GG would put out an album. I have been begging for crumbs of a song for years now, it would have seemed completely outrageous to dare to dream of an entire album!!!

But now that it's on its way, and I've heard more info/rumors about the release (more on that in a bit), I can look back over the past year and see some signs that have been there all along, of what's to come.

More on the release

Promo has already begun, and we now know more about the release schedule based on what's posted on the streaming platforms.

The songs will be released in 3 waves, with the first wave happening on the 12th, the next one on the 19th and the final one on the 26th.

The physical album is going to be coming in December, and there are some tantalizing rumors about what that will include:

The album cover was drawn by GG.

A Xiao Zhan Studio red gift box containing various items including postcards, t-shirts etc.

There will be a CD version and a limited edition vinyl version.

A music video is also rumored to have been completed. This has been confirmed, and will be premiering on the 12th.

Clues we've had all along

What's interesting to me is that for months I've been posting updates about changes to XZ Studio's business license, that have been clues to what GG might be up to.

In January a license was obtained to establish a domestic performance agency.

In March that license was expanded to include services for film production and live performances.

In June there were some legal trademark applications made, pertaining to office supplies, calendars and paper gift wrapping.

And now we know that he's releasing an album, at least some editions which will likely be sold with bonus gifts, paper products and packaging (I think this is a very credible rumor because if he's going the physical album route, it's likely designer GG will want to do special editions like this).

Licenses recently purchased protect the studio's exclusive rights to produce and sell such items.

We also know GG and his studio love to produce stunning high quality videos. Was there ever any doubt that he'd make a music video? Maybe even more than one.

Licenses purchased earlier this year give the studio the right to produce such commercial videos.

And there's another license that is associated with live concert performances! I think it's highly likely we'll see a concert from him in the coming year or two.

Generous GG

As Fat Shrimp mentioned, the songs will be free on streaming. This has made a big impression on some fans, and there has been a lot of discussion about it, and about how much this album will have cost to produce, for GG to give it away for free (here's a compilation of some of the comments via Nili, and another from Estefanita).

People have expressed so many thoughts about this. Everyone agrees that it's almost unheard of to give an entire album for free. One or two songs, maybe, but just as a teaser for the full album - which must be paid for.

A lot of people have talked about the 'old days' (ack, I feel old!) when people would buy physical albums, often after having heard only one or two singles on the radio (although where I'm from people could go into a record store and listen to the full album before buying).

They say that he's opening himself up to that evaluation before people are expected to commit to paying for it, and that it's very generous and honorable, but that it will also open him up to being heard more by passersby who wouldn't otherwise be willing to pay for the music - therefore expanding his possible audience.

I personally think there are a few possible factors contributing to why he chose to share his album for free:

To me, this feels almost like GG's bigger 'debut' as an independent solo singer. He's finally releasing music entirely on his own terms. He wants to share and celebrate that with the world, as a gift to the world and to the fans. "I'm here. Please enjoy."

He's inviting people to listen to his music and judge for themselves whether it's worthy of their investment. It goes along with his personality as someone who wouldn't want people to associate any sort of 'buyer's remorse' with something he's sold them. He's always saying, "people are free to like or to hate," and this is his way of giving people that choice without judgment. "Listen and if you like it, buy it. If you don't, that's fine too." By doing this he's likely to build a bigger audience than by doing a traditional release, because everyone has a chance to hear and evaluate him without any up-front investment.

He wants to avoid any possibility of a repeat of what happened with Spotlight, where he was criticized because fans were buying dozens of copies as a means of boosting sales, and then bragging that their idol was the biggest seller of all time. He doesn't want fans to spend all their money on his songs or on boosting his 'sales', nor does he want any perception that the success of his album was bought by fans.

He could be bargaining on making more overall sales via charging for only the physical copies than by selling both, due to the expanded interest a free release is likely to generate.

He has confidence in what he's created, and is happy to share it openly.

He's doing this out of the joy of it more than anything else, and money isn't a central factor for him.

To me this approach, along with the stated plans for rolling all of this out, feels like a marketing plan, and we all know GG has a professional background in that kind of thing.

Yes, all those other elements of artistry, generosity and magnanimity come into it as well, of course. Marketing is treated as a dirty word, but we must remember that every marketing plan is based deeply in the values and intent of the individual/organization doing the marketing, and is focused on their goals.

I feel that his plan will have considered the factors I mentioned, and will be aligned with his values, intentions and goals.

This is just my take on it, of course. Only GG and his studio really know for sure what his plans and goals are.

Can't wait!!!

Whatever his feelings or plans are, I can't wait to hear this album, I can't wait to buy it, and I can't wait to see what kind if interest and critique it generates!!

I also hope that this is just the beginning - that he will be releasing more music, and hopefully doing concerts in the future.

[itsvelyria]

"as sad taylor swift songs"

vvv vague references to depression for danny

(not really a representation of the songs as a whole but rather how i interpret each phrase i cherry picked)

Charles Leclerc

and say the one thing, i've been wanting, but no~ 🩵

your phone lights up the dark of your room, you should be asleep at this time of the night. there hadn't been any new messages since Tuesday but here you sat, scrolling aimlessly on social media, waiting by the chat like you were 13 again with your first crush. the squeal of glee and the uncontrollable smile on your face when they would text back — that's how he made you feel. and though the little voice in your head is telling you that everything was wrong, there was no way you would debase your feelings to refute the way your brain was wired to think of him at all times. but as you were flicking through gossip sites, the back of a head that haunted your dreams and nightmares was staring right back at, pressed up against a shorter brunette one — maybe it was time to listen to your brain and not your heart.

Carlos Sainz

tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch~ 🩷

every inch of your skin was on fire, like it was rejecting the touch of the man above you. if you squinted enough, blocked out the light from the living room behind his broad shoulders, you could have mistaken him for a certain Spaniard. except the Spaniard wouldn't have chosen to lay his focus on your neck like this guy you picked up at the club. you couldn't, for the life of your alcohol-riddled brain, recall his name. but you could remember the ghost of a touch down between the valleys of your breasts and that was enough to pry a spine-shivering moan out your throat. maybe if you pretended enough and swallowed the hot tears back, you could pretend he was the person you wanted instead.

Danny Ricciardo

she would have made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head~ 🧡

he knew it when your frame had started curled in on itself under the covers. how you brushed past the stereo you loved to fiddle with on Saturday mornings. how you told him that you'd rather stay home on days you had plans. he felt this clawing in his insides whenever you barely spared him a glance, like he was the extra on a film set who was just waiting around for something to happen. so he did what he did best. he'd called up your mom to ask for her recipes to cook for nights you were too tired to move and offered to dry your hair whenever you wandered around wet hair. when you were fast asleep, cuddled up in his arms, he hoped you could hear when he told you how much he loved you and how he'd always be here.

George Russell

will you still want me, when i'm nothing new~ ❤️

even with your eyes closed on the red-eye flight, you could picture your colour-coded and meticulously organised calendar in your head. that and the thousands of messages from your mother, disappointment reeking from them at your missing of your nephew's baby shower. he was 1, he'd get over it. amongst the messages was two calls to your boyfriend, both left unanswered. the silence feeling like a prelude to something inevitable. images of him laughing with a colleague, your calls ignored, flashed in your mind. the little seed of self-doubt had planted itself a long time ago and bloomed into a voice in your head, relentlessly questioning your every move, every word. you hated it, but when the fire you started grows uncontrollably and you can't stop it, what could you do but let it consume you whole?

Lando Norris

no one could touch the way we laughed in the dark~ 💛

it was like a bad smell you couldn't ignore, the second you stepped onto the hiking path. you refused to come but was convinced otherwise by your group of friends. and with each crunch of the wet leaves under your boot or the distant sound of rushing water, you saw faint wisps of smoke in the shape of someone drawn from your ancient memories, holding your hand and leading you up the slope. hallucinations of a familiar laugh clouded your mind with the hike passing like a daze. the waterfall was still as beautiful as you remembered with the tree where he had secretly carved both your initials just a few steps away. your boyfriend pulled you closer, breaking your trance. his grin radiating at you, you felt the old memories slip away back into the shadows, cupping the chin of your new love.

Lewis Hamilton

you gave me all your love and all i gave you was goodbye~ 💜

sometimes when he glanced at old pictures, the indifference in his chest made him feel like he had moved on. and it should. with every second that slipped out of his grasp, the pain in his heart had dulled and he was busy enough without having to schedule mourning into his calendar. but the glare of his phone burned the picture into his retinas while he was waiting for his next race to begin, he missed the pang in his chest when you first ended the relationship. it was almost like he was losing every shred of you and the ugly feeling in his head raged on. and the next moment, he would turn the phone off, throwing it across his room to bury his head in his palms, the anger redirecting on the pathetic little boy inside him. he should have moved on by now, he knows he should have, but as he glanced at all the faces in the stands, part of him wishes one of them was you.

Max Verstappen

then you won't have to cry, or hide in the closet~ 🩶

you can see it in the darkening of his eyes when he answered his calls. or how his lips pulled taunt after a bad race. he had mentioned some things in passing: details of his childhood glossed over like it was nothing more than a dusty spine of a long-forgotten book. coupled with stories from his family, you had pieced together enough of the puzzle he kept his past. and that tugging in your heart wasn't pity; you could never pity him. but you weren't sure what it was either. and so you kept it quiet, tucking it away in a box, focused on the one thing that did matter — his present. maybe one day, you'll take the box out and rifle through its contents with your lover, but for now, just seeing him hold that trophy was more than enough.

[potato-lord-but-not]

hi, i'm sorry if this is a strange question but will you be selling or otherwise re-releasing the sticker designs you made last year for the glorious 25th of may? i really loved them and recently had to replace my laptop, losing access to my stickers because of it :(

no re-releases unfortunately, buttttt there WILL be stickers again this year, I’d mark your calendars (I’ll be posting 12 pm cst) cus I’m gonna be doing a limited amount this time 🫡

[therealsaintscully]

Thank you for the tag, lovely @crepesuzette2023! It's been nice to take some time to think about my fics!

How many works do you have on ao3?

20; 18 are Johnlock (BBC) and two, the most recent ones, are mclennon.

What’s your total word count?

306,378 (I was stunned to see this, I had no idea).

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All are Johnlock: Mark Your Calendars, my beloved Erosion, Detours, Plus One and Turned - Part I : Queen and Country.

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I try to be very good about it and respond as often as I can, but the truth is I'm a bit of an emotional wreck so when there's a rush of comments I get overwhelmed and over emotional about them, and tend to put it off for a while. I read them ALL, and I often go back and re-read them.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I had to refresh my memory but it's def Every Other Universe ("What if in every other universe John Watson leaves?"). It's one of my very earliest ones and I cringe a little reading it, but it's a very neat idea. Gretna Green Waltz, a mclennon fic, is very devastating if I may say so myself, and was written as such knowingly. It only reflects reality, though, and that's just as devastating.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I think Mark Your Calendars has the happiest ending, judging by the numbers of kudos, but for me as the writer, the cosiest, most joy-bringing ending was that of Simon (or: Love Calls You by Your Name).

Do you write crossovers?

The sadly abandoned Turned series is a crossover with Homeland.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate, but some less-than-considerate "when's the next chapter???" comments. I don't bother with them.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes I do :)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Don't think so!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I remember being asked, but I'm not sure what happened with it! Some of my fics got podficced, though: Mark Your Calendars is available as podfic, and so is I Have not Lingered (thanks to the lovely @helloliriels)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I'm so neurotic and particular I don't think I'm cut out for that.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mulder and Scully are DEFINITELY the mothership and always will be. I still sigh about them in a special, exasperated way about three times a week. I'm still here with Johnlock of course, but I'm pretty sure mclennon has been in the back of my mind for decades, but I was too haunted by other ships to fall down that rabbit hole. Look at me, though, here I am.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Turned, very sadly. So much so that I've considered taking it off AO3 but I'm so proud of what I did achieve with it.

What are your writing strengths?

I think my best writing moments are the ones that hook unto my real, personal experiences, not just a general idea of life situations. Erosion is based on my own personal grief and family losses, and Gretna Green Waltz is a retelling of my biggest heartache. I have noticed readers can tell when you're really putting your heart into a story.

What are your writing weaknesses?

English isn't my first language, which means I have to rely on betas which for me sadly slows me down - I want to be able to just write them and post them otherwise I overthink. I'm also a screenwriter irl, and I noticed a pattern that is another weakness - I always have banger openings, or first acts to my stories/screenplays, but sometimes I don't know the ending and I get lost and hesitant. That's why Gretna Green Waltz was SUCH a surprise - much like Junk, the song that haunts Paul throughout the fic, came to him in one piece, GGW landed in my head as a full story. I wrote it in TWO WEEKS! That NEVER happened before!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It really depends on how it's done. If it's 2-3 sentences and they're simple I assume the readers will Google Translate it. Jinglebell stands out as someone who did it really well in multi-chapter fic that's all about Sherlock discovering that John is a polyglot, so it can be done well.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Johnlock (for which I started writing during covid in 2020), although as a reader it was TXF, back in in 90s and early 2000s.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

The X-Files. I've had a Scully character study in my head for years that I just can't get right.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

With Johnlock it would have to be the now-abandoned Turned, and mclennon it would be Gretna Green Waltz. I am very proud of both.

Tagging @menlove, @discordantwords, @saint-mona, @totallysilvergirl @m1ssunderstanding @slippinmickeys @kettykika78 @agrlsname @arwamachine @calaisreno @aggressivewhenstartled and anyone who sees this who wants to participate :)

[ghoulangerlee]

the cumulus is in a rut and cirrus is in heat fic :)

contains: cunnilingus, fingering, ladies in love, the concepts of heats and ruts without it being overly there, a very brief mention of cirrus's breeding kink but it's only a mention, and wings :)

WOMEN!

==

Cumulus feels...heat, uncomfortable, a pressure building in her lower stomach—all encompassing.

Dutifully, she checks her calendar, the small hard cover planner she keeps with her, flipping through well worn pages until she finds the right date and well.

Well. She's at the beginning of it, her rut. Five days. The first two make her skin feel uncomfortably tight, like she's being stretched thin over her own bones. The third one is when she starts to really feel it. When she needs a partner to help her satiate the hunger.

The fourth and fifth day, well, she doesn't want to think about those right now, already feeling on a sort of hair trigger since she'd rolled out of bed this morning.

She goes on about her day, mostly, feeling a bit listless as she does—she catches a sympathetic look from Dew, allowing him close enough once to scent her, a low purr rumbling in his chest.

"It'll be okay, Cu," Dew murmurs, and he's never been terrible at comfort despite what he thinks, his arms settling loosely around her shoulders in a hug.

Cumulus allows herself to lean into it—they're not incompatible, but her body yearns for something that Dew can't give her right now. She's grateful though, for the comfort, his steady scent not spiking in any way, arousal or otherwise.

(She's only mildly afraid of what she could be capable of if she were to catch the scent of arousal so soon.)

"I was going to go down to the lake, it's a nice day out. Do you wanna come?" Dew murmurs into her hair.

Cumulus wants to shake her head, pull from his embrace and go lock herself in her room for a bit while the fire in her belly licks tantalizingly at her very being.

"It'll be good for you," Dew needles her gently, he's not pushing but he's not backing down in her silence. "You know how stinky the church gets when everyone starts waking up for the day. Do you really want to subject yourself to that?"

She doesn't, is the issue, and Dew knows this.

"Yeah, okay, at least let me pack a bag first so I have a few things." She finally settles on, briefly mourning the closeness of Dew when he finally pulls back.

"Sure thing," he says, smiling at her. "I'm going to go pack a lunch. I'm feeling like a nice relaxing day at the lake is in order. Probably won't be able to drag myself out of the water for lunch, later."

Cumulus nods and allows herself to calm down at the prospect of being only surrounded by nature and the one ghoul who's nearly perfect at keeping his scent in check.

They split ways, only long enough for Cumulus to pack a few things; a book and a towel, she throws a swimsuit in as a last minute thing, just in case she gets needled into swimming with Dew—she also changes into something lighter, a flowy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, the material soft and comfortable against her skin.

When she exits her room a little bit later, Dew's waiting at the end of the hall, a brown basket sitting at his feet and a blanket folded over his arm; he's also dressed down, casual in swim trunks and a tank top—he's glamoured, much like she is, so his skin is pale and lightly freckled from his time in the sun.

"There you are," Dew says with a smile, soft and friendly as he scoops the basket up again, "Ready?"

She smiles in return and goes over to him, nudging her shoulder against his, "Ready."

Together, they head down to the lake, only running into a couple of siblings who offer waves to them before carrying on—Cumulus is glad for this, unsure if she could stand the small talk today, already so on edge from the heat running through her veins.

The lake is peaceful and quiet, there's a slight breeze though the sun shines high in the sky, warming the entire area—quietly, they set everything up, Dew spreading the blanket out on the pier, placing the basket on one of the corners and motions for Cumulus to make herself comfortable.

She does, her rut still burning below her skin, in her veins, a steady reminder that it's there and setting in, but she's able to lie back on the blanket, eyes fluttering closed as the sun bears down on her.

She doesn't see Dew, but she can smell when he removes his shirt, dropping it into a pile near her; not close enough for his scent to bother her, but close enough that it offers some sort of comfort to her—and then, there's a splash, a whoop of laughter as Dew comes up to the surface of the water.

She can smell his happiness, the warm and rich scent making her purr softly, she's not providing for him, she doesn't provide for another who goes into rut, but being part of his happiness, of his own way to relax on a day off makes her happy too.

Cumulus dozes on the pier, warm and happy in the sun as the sounds of Dew splashing around the lake fade into nothingness.

It's the first reprieve that she's had since waking this morning to the burning beneath her skin.

At some point, she wakes up—slowly, like all of her limbs are underwater. She stays horizontal and rolls over onto her side, Dew's sitting a distance away from her, bare chested and watching the clouds float through the sky. There's an unwrapped sandwich next to him and a bottle of water.

Her stomach growls and Dew glances over at her, a serene smile on his face, "Hey sleepy head," he says, and then he tilts his head towards the basket, "Food's in there. Should still be good. Cirrus packed you something special when I told her you were coming down here with me."

Something clenches in her belly at that, a low rumble of a purr in her chest as she slowly sits up, stretching her limbs out.

In the basket, there's something wrapped in a checkered napkin, and Cumulus can smell the remains of Cirrus's scent on it when she pulls it close—she doesn't think too hard about the date written in green sparkly pen in her calendar, the one that matches up with her own in matte blue ink.

It's just a sandwich, but it's a somewhat indulgent one with pepper spiced turkey, lettuce, tomato and green apple slices, a light spread of mayonnaise on one side of the bread and the barest hint of cream cheese on the other.

It's her favorite.

She tears into it with a ravenous hunger, the bread, meat, vegetable and fruit melting away under her teeth—it's easily the best thing she's ever eaten, fisting the napkin in one of her hands as if hoping the rest of Cirrus's scent would rub away into her skin.

"So, tomorrow, you think you'll be okay? I mean, I could make more time for you, obviously. Maybe go bird watching or whatever it is you air ghouls like to do," Dew says, humor in his tone as he teases her. "But, I do have a hot date with a water ghoul later, so if I'm needed it'll have to be early morning."

"Swiss likes bird watching and he's mostly an outlier," Cumulus says around a mouthful of food. "But no, I think this time may be different." She squeezes the napkin tighter in her hand, "I believe I'm being courted."

Dew gives her a funny look, "Aren't you and Cirrus already mated?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. "You do that whole mated pair thing already."

Cumulus snorts softly, "Come on, Dew. Don't tell me you've never tried to spice things up with someone you've been together with for a long time." She says, and then she smiles, soft and gentle, "It's a thing we do. Every couple hundred years. Sometimes I court her when she's about to go into heat. Sometimes she courts me when I'm going into a rut. Depends on what we're feeling."

"That's disgustingly domestic of you two. Though I think you ladies may be the outlier here." Dew says with a shrug. "Personally, my longest courting has been since I've been summoned. So, for only a few years. I don't think it's been long enough to do it again." He gets a sort of thoughtful look on his face, "Might take Aether by surprise if I started trying to court him again."

Cumulus finishes her sandwich and folds the napkin up carefully, tucking it into the collar of her shirt, "I forget that compared to us, some of you are babies," she says with a little laugh.

"Uh huh," Dew says with a roll of his eyes, before he fishes out another bottle of water from the basket and tosses it in her direction.

Cumulus bares her teeth at him as she catches it, "I'm just saying, it's nice sometimes, to fall back into old habits with someone you care about."

Dew has a thoughtful look on his face, he's not looking at Cumulus anymore, but towards the sky, "Huh," he says slowly. "You and Cirrus have been together for...a while, yeah?"

"Millennia." Cumulus says, as if she's talking about some small and insignificant number of years. "Swiss too, but he was. Well, he was later. A couple hundred years later." She smiles, a soft and private thing, "Cirrus and I have seen the rise and fall of many civilizations, both here and in the pits."

"Huh." Dew says again, "Maybe you are onto something, birdy."

Cumulus laughs then, light and happy, feeling warm and content as she settles back onto her back again. "Guess you better listen to me then, waterbug."

Dew scoffs at the name, but soon the conversation grows quiet and Cumulus's eyes flutter closed again, another round of tiredness pulling at her.

-

The next day she wakes up warmer than before, naked and pressed against Cirrus's back, nose right against where her scent is thickest.

A chirp, soft and content, Cirrus's hand coming back to comb through her unruly hair—the haze of heat overtaking as Cumulus leans into her touch.

She can smell the scent of heat just burning under Cirrus's skin, the need to provide calls deep from in her bones as she presses closer, rolling them until Cirrus is on her front and Cumulus can stretch out across her back, blanketing her—pressing her down against the bed as she does.

Cirrus purrs loudly, content to let Cumulus keep her there. She folds her arms and pillows her head on them, face turned to the side—her features lax and open, happy.

With an answering purr, Cumulus leans down and nuzzles into her jaw, feeling soft downy feathers against her own as she does—before her brain goes too much, she makes a note to have Cirrus sit up later, have her wings on display so she can properly groom them, the most basic act of love of their kind.

Cirrus angles her head, tipping it to the side, purring louder as she puckers her lips, urging Cumulus down with the pout of her lips—she's eager to comply, pressing their lips together sweetly in a chaste kiss.

For a while, they stay like this, trading kisses back and forth, Cirrus's purrs loud and content as she lounges under Cumulus—basking in the weight against her back, the press of bare skin against bare skin.

Warmth surrounds the two of them, scents thickened with pheromones; at some point, Cumulus urges Cirrus up into a sitting position, coaxes her to drop her glamour fully so her wings are out.

She starts at the base of one wing, careful as she coaxes the messy feathers into order until Cirrus is warm putty under her touch, sagging forward as her wings twitch with each pass of her fingers through the feathers.

It's quiet except for the low song that Cumulus is humming, something she'd written on her own, a gentle ode to her love for Cirrus—there's no words, but neither of them need words to convey feelings anymore.

As she finishes one wing, she moves onto the next, spends a considerable amount of time putting all the feathers into order, plucking out the ones that have become a nuisance, Cirrus's scent is warm and sweet, her eyes drooping and sleepy; a true sign of trust and intimacy.

Cumulus keeps an eye on Cirrus, knows when her heat hits that she goes mostly nonverbal, choosing to mostly speak through their bond if she needs to, prefers to give into her instincts—she keeps such a front up when around everyone else, a proper shoulder to lean on, someone who can be firm, a leader.

But here, when they're together, when the press of heat is under her skin, when she's in Cumulus's arms, she allows herself to give up control, trusts that Cumulus knows what she needs, what's best for her.

Knows how to take care of her.

At some point, Cirrus finds herself stretched out on her back, her wings spread out under her while Cumulus's own flare out behind her.

Cumulus has a knee between Cirrus's legs, draws her into a sweet kiss as she shifts closer, presses the heft of her thigh right against Cirrus's cunt.

Cirrus makes a noise into the kiss, claws at Cumulus's arms, at her sides, presses her fingers into soft skin as she grinds down against her, panting as the heat overtakes her, as her mind goes hazy and dumb with it.

It's such a treat, to have her like this, desperate and needy, wet and sticky, messy and Cumulus deepens the kiss, reaches down between her legs and presses her fingertips against the stiff point of her clit—the sudden pressure making Cirrus shudder, a wounded noise tearing its way through her chest as she comes.

Always so easy the first time, Cumulus thinks with some delight, happy that she's able to provide this for her mate. It makes the low burn of her own rut flare up, she doesn't need anything just yet though, content to take Cirrus apart over and over again.

When Cirrus's legs stop shaking, Cumulus pulls her fingers away, brings them up to her lips and takes a moment to taste, humming happily as the thick scent of her mate coats her tongue, worms its way into her senses, her very being.

"Cu," Cirrus mumbles out loud, half delirious, one hand shoved against her shoulder, trying to urge her downwards, "Your mouth, please," she manages to get out.

Cumulus shushes her, kisses her again and they share the taste of Cirrus's slick for a moment, Cirrus's hand getting more insistent and pushy as she tries to redirect Cumulus once more—so she goes, easily, pulls away from the kiss and slinks down the bed, settles on her chest between Cirrus's legs, mouthing kisses along her inner thighs.

There's a litany of praises, of pleases in Cumulus's mind, all coming from her bond with Cirrus as she moves higher and higher until she's able to mouth over her cunt, drag the tip of her tongue along the seam of her lips, a little bit of a tease as she uses two fingers to spread them just enough to drag the flat of her tongue over Cirrus's clit.

Cirrus's hand drops to her hair, not tugging or pulling though, just resting there, keeping her close even as Cumulus continues to tease her with slow little kitten licks, gentle touches even though Cirrus feels like she's burning up from the inside.

Only when a white falls from Cirrus's mouth, sad and despondent, does Cumulus give in, firming up her tongue, each pass along her clit now slow and sensual as she works two fingers into her slowly, curling them upwards—it's just enough to fill Cirrus up, just enough to sate her need but not enough to get her off just yet.

It's perfect, in a maddening way as Cirrus's fingers pet along Cumulus's scalp and she hooks a leg over Cumulus's shoulder, using her heel to pull her closer until Cumulus's face is right against her, her hand squished between them even as she continues to undulate her fingers inside her.

She's begging, she realizes, unsure if out loud or through the bond, the fire in her veins calling for more and Cumulus provides, she happily provides as she presses another finger into her, stretching them and curling them, pressing upwards as she sucks at her clit.

The force and suddenness of this orgasm catches the both of them off guard, Cirrus gushing around Cumulus's fingers, wetting her chin and throat easily, her wrist, her entire hand.

Cirrus makes an urgent noise, tugs, tugs, tugs until Cumulus comes up, knees over her and Cirrus hooks a leg around her waist now, pulls their lower bodies together as she offers up her mouth in a filthy kiss, licking the taste of herself from Cumulus's tongue.

They make out for a bit, Cirrus making happy noises into each kiss, her hand tight in Cumulus's hair to keep her their as their hips rock together minutely—Cirrus can feel the tell-tale signs that Cumulus is affected by all of this, by her own rut, by Cirrus's heat.

It doesn't happen often, only when their cycles line up like this, but Cirrus can feel it, the way Cumulus's clit is hard, peeking out from between her folds, engorged and hot, it nudges between her folds, against her clit with each grind upwards, she's making noises into each kiss, soft little uh uh uhs that have Cumulus purring happily, too content to part ways.

They don't really need to breathe anyway.

She doesn't push even if she wants to, wants to beg Cumulus to fuck her, to fill her, to breed her, make her belong to Cumulus once again after all these years together—she has to stop the train of thought, before it spills over into the bond, but it must anyway because Cumulus laughs softly, musically, pulls away from the kiss and whispers soon against her slack mouth, grinding down against her like she's already trying to make room inside her.

It's wet and slick between them, Cirrus can smell the thick scent of Cumulus's arousal now mixed with her own, she wants to bury her face between Cumulus's legs where the scent is the thickest, take her into her mouth until she's ready to fuck—she whines out loud, grips tight at Cumulus's hips as she comes again, the insistent nudging of Cumulus's clit against hers too much to handle.

She clenches around nothing and briefly mourns, but Cumulus is once again a beautiful, wonderful mate because she reaches between them and stuffs three fingers into Cirrus again, quickly brings her off once more so Cirrus has something to clench around.

It's bliss. True and utter bliss.

"Lovely, lovely," Cumulus murmurs, kissing along her hairline as she comes down again, shuddering as she leaves her fingers inside, curling them just enough so it feels like she's able to hold them. Like they're going to plug her up and keep her full until the heat subsides.

Cirrus purrs happily, loud and content as she allows Cumulus to smother her in kisses, little pecks along her skin as her heat subsides for now, now that she's come and she's full.

Cumulus presses one last kiss to her mouth, pulls back and smiles down at her, "Good?" she asks, she keeps her arm as still as she can, there's an ache in her wrist, in her elbow but she settles down against Cirrus again, pressing her into the bed, "Good, mate?"

"Good," Cirrus mumbles back, turning her head to nuzzle Cumulus's cheek. "Sleepy now."

"Of course, love," Cumulus murmurs, feeling her own rut start to sink its claws into her, but she pushes it down, ignores it for now, "Rest now."

Later on, she'll have Cirrus present for her, she'll grind against her, fill her up until the two of them are locked together as one while Cirrus goes pliant and soft underneath her.

For now, she presses one last kiss to Cirrus's lips, soft and sweet and full of love and drifts off into a light sleep.

[katmaibearfan]

how do I tell these bears that I luv them. I'm baked and emotional. Please let them know with a note or some petting while they sleep. so fluffy

what an incredible first ask to receive on this blog, oh my goodness. this has legit made my morning!

i think the best ways we have to show love to these wonderful creatures is to preserve the land they live on and preserve the salmon run that is the lifeblood of Katmai.

The Katmai Conservancy is a wonderful nonprofit that helps with education, research, preservation, and outreach about Katmai National Park and the things that live there -- from genetic studies on the bear and non-invasive coastal wolf populations to working with local indigenous groups to preserve indigenous knowledge of local plants and their uses. they do so, so much wonderful and wildly important work.

also, they have a merch shop!! i personally own 3 shirts and the fat bear week calendar for 2024, and i love them immensely. they focus on using recycled or otherwise environmentally-friendly materials wherever possible, and since the shop is run by the conservancy itself, all profits go directly to them with no middle man. there's a really cute bear plush that i don't yet own but that i want real bad -- it comes with a sockeye salmon plush and they both have magnets so you can attach the salmon to the bear's mouth!!

also, for bear related cuteness, i'm going to be doing a write up of some katmai bear cam lore soon (you can find the poll for which is first here), and all of the options currently leading are very cute and very sweet stories of bears being incredible, incredible creatures.

again thank you so much for this ask, it really has made my morning!

[elbiotipo]

Workbuilding Fundamentalist question: when it comes to dates, times and calendars in a fantasy setting where do you stand? I'm always conflicted as a writer just because changing the length of a year or what all the months are called all makes sense given that most fantasy worlds aren't earth and because every month is named after a person or deity and our calendar has been changed like 7 times in the real world. And yet I don't want to throw all this extra work at the reader.

Example I have a gas dwarf planet with like, winderwaker islands poking out above the gaseous ocean what people live on. And there's only 4 months in a year there so a 64 year old is still a teenager and it just seems like a lot to make someone keep track of.

First of all, very cool setting, I love islands among the clouds! Now, this is actually something I've given a lot of thought into, and might become a real concern if humanity goes to other planets.

There's, for example, an opening line of a Heinlein novel (IIRC) where a girl says she's 10 years old and thus old enough to marry, which is true, on Mars (the year is 687 days there). There is no reason, if one is designing a new planet, or even finding one IRL, to expect it to have the same day and year lenght to Earth, not even close. Mars with 21 hours is pretty close, but the length of our year and day is really just a cosmic coincidence. You could easily have an reasonably earth-like planet with shorter years (because it's closer to its star, or just revolves faster), or longer days or years.

However, very few fictional settings bother with this, and it's not hard to see why, you can have all sorts of exotic additions to your setting, but to wrap our head through different lenghts of the year or the day is a bit too much. Even different week lenghts, which did exist on history, sound strange. There are all sorts of different fantasy and sci-fi calendars, but at the root, most authors operate with "Earth-time". I don't blame them, it is 'extra work' for some readers, and it's not easy to wrap our head around, it's easier to say "this is sort of an alternate Earth" and be done with it. Also, to lenghten or shortern the year or day might bring all sorts of consequences from ecology to climate that should be considered, otherwise it's just a lame gimmick in my opinion.

HOWEVER, it's still an interesting piece of worldbuilding to consider!

Calendars of a sort have existed since humans started to count seasons and days, but our current society where there are calendars and clocks everywhere is quite recent, actually. I'm sure you are aware of the different calendars besides the BCE-CE one was imposed as the standard, many cultures . But there are also different ways of counting years;. The classic one is seasons, farming societies of course need it the most but hunter-gatherers also follow and know the seasons. There is no reason at all for them to correspond to the "temperate" seasons (summer, fall, winter, spring). Dry and wet seasons, cold and summer, and other options are not only possible, but have actually been widespread on human history. I recommend reading on Wikipedia about seasons, especially the section about non-calendar based seasons.

Of course the above applies to pre-industrial civilizations where timekeeping isn't as widespread. But even in those, counting years and ages is treated differently. Birthdays, for example, don't exist in all cultures. Koreans still count age based on the Korean new year, not your birthday. Some medieval Christian celebrated on the feast of the saint they were named after (and there are lots of them) or IIRC, their baptism. And so, a culture as yours might use different ways of counting the age of a person, perhaps by more "qualitative" rituals than just counting the years (though I have a feeling they would quickly adapt to their own calendar). Much like I told you about different kinds of seasons for different climates, I imagine that in worlds where the years are too short (or too long) to really make sense for the average person, some other ways of counting time will prevail. For example, are there predictable climate cycles in your planet? Moons (lunar calendars are always fun)? I can assume your planet has shorter years because it's closer to your star (by any chance, did you base it on red-dwarf orbiting planets?), so perhaps you could use something regarding the very visible star to count time?

Like I said at the beginning, this will be a real concern when humanity expands through space, and there's even a bit of debate if the human body can adapt to such heavy changes on its circadian rhytm. In any case, my prediction is that there would be a "Earth time", that is, 24-hours day and 365 day year, that is kept as standard out of convenience and in spaceships and space habitats (in my own setting Campoestela, it's called "ship time" because human spaceships use it as standard) and lots of "local times" on different planets with all the quirks I mentioned above, with everyone going into space learning how to convert their own time to "Earth time". Or maybe, to make things even more fun and, admittedly, complicated to the reader, the time of another time is taken as a standard. There's lots to play with here.

DON'T even ask me about relativistic time (like in Interstellar) because it makes my head hurt, even if I did use it a couple times on my stories. But "ship time" might be a real thing. Some cultures might have completely different 'times', not calendars, actually *times*, depending on relativistic time delation.

BTW anon, sorry for using this to promote myself, but if anyone loved this rant and would like to see more, I would appreciate some tips on my ko-fi (given the situation down here, now more than ever) and suggestions for other topics to talk about!

[k-martins]

What does each jjk spirit animal symbolize (Part 1)

Or also "I'm bored so I'll look up random things about Japanese animals"

Yuji Itadori - White Bengal Tiger

This one is a bit obvious, as the kanji in the name "Yuji Itadori" also mean "bengal tiger" according to jjk's wiki. Furthermore, the name "Yuji" means "brave and heroic", which fits with his personality and importance in the plot. These two meanings are also attributed to tigers in Japanese culture, which are seen as symbols of "great power, courage and strength". I'm probably wrong, but this could link Yuji with Byakko, the guardian of the west cardinal point in Japanese mythology. According to legend, the principle of the Heavenly White Tiger is to protect and preserve. Therefore, it was common to find Japanese shoguns, generals and people of power and influence using a coat of arms with a tiger.

(I'm having some thoughts about Yuji and tigers right now, but I'll post that later)

Megumi Fushiguro - Bunnies

This one took me by surprise, but come on. Rabbits symbolize many things in Japanese culture, some of them being longevity, luck, patience, creativity, elegance, calmness, cleverness and BLESSING among children. And we can see that many of these words can also be associated with Megumi. The rabbit is also part of the Japanese calendar, (in fact, 2023 is the year of the rabbit), and one of the interesting things I found was that one of the defects of people born in that year is that they lack self-confidence and avoid confrontations. There are several myths involving rabbits in Japanese mythology and it would be a lot of work to bring them all here, but I want to quote the myth of the Rabbit in the moon (I discovered this thanks to a wonderful fanfic on AO3) which talks about a rabbit taken to the celestial realms by the Old Man Moon Sage after being chosen as the most generous animal. (The rabbits' colors probably symbolize Megumi's dogs)

Nobara Kugisaki - Flamingo

This one was also a surprise, as flamingos are the last thing I would have thought of as a Nobara spirit animal, but which I now fully understand in research. Flamingos symbolize perseverance and strength, elegance and grace. They teach us to be resilient through adversity, always maintaining balance in our actions. Much like Nobara who represented a balance in the trio, being as excited and fun as Itadori, but also smart and calm as Fushiguro. She is also shown to be very persevering in her desires to find Saori and get out of her village life. In Japan, flamingos also symbolize good luck because of the red color of their wings, which are associated with happiness.

Satoru Gojo - Snowy Owl

Ha!!! Satoru Gojo needed to have a majestic animal for him. A snowy owl fit right in, as it is a symbol of wisdom and the ability to see beyond appearances ("my six eyes tell me you are Suguru Geto, but my soul knows otherwise"). The white color, in addition to further accentuating the symbol of knowledge, is also linked to purity and ILLUMINATION (something Sukuna said he lacked in chapter 230). In Japan, owls are used as amulets and talismans to attract good luck, fortune, health and love (Satusugu canon, as Geto/Kenny also has an owl as a spirit animal, but that's for another post).

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This started out as a shitty post that I just made for fun (and something to do while there's nothing interesting on twitter), but I ended up enjoying researching them. It is interesting to see that each of the animals was not chosen at random, that there is something in their symbology that links them to jjk. I really liked the symbology of Gojo's owl and Nobara's Flamingo (I kind of expected Megumi to have one of her shikigami, but the rabbits surprised me…)

I have a few thoughts about Itadori's tiger, but I think I've said too much.

[fast-moon]

DS9 Season 3 Thoughts

On to Season 3! Last time, the crew made contact with members of the Dominion who told them to stay off their lawn in the Gamma Quadrant. Will Sisko comply?

Probably not, so here we go.

1-2. The Search: Sisko gets a new ship to play with that's better than those wimpy runabouts. All simulations show them losing if the Dominion attacks them, so Sisko figures they can't fare any worse if he just takes the entire senior staff with him to go face the Dominion on their own turf. They all promptly get captured, while Odo has some slime time with his own people, only to discover that they're the Dominion's founders.

3. The House of Quark: Quark kills a guy, is sentenced to marriage.

4. Equilibrium: Dax gets a song stuck in her head, but unfortunately the Shazam servers in the future take a week to return a result. Also, when did they get the Defiant back? Two episodes ago it was trashed and adrift in the Gamma Quadrant. Did the Dominion really let them go back to get it?

5. Second Skin: Kira gets gaslit like a pilot light, ends up with a Car-dad-ssian.

6. The Abandoned: Odo adopts a baby Jem'Hadar, who quickly becomes a violent, angsty teenage Jem'Hadar with an enzyme addiction who runs off to join a gang. Also, is the series trying to set up an Odo/Kira relationship? Almost every episode this season has given them a "moment", and now she's bringing him flowers. Like, it's cute, but I'm still all for Ace Odo and the ability for a female and male-identifying character to have a platonic friendship (I don't count Sisko/Dax because Sisko has made clear that Dax being Curzon is all that's keeping him from hitting on her).

7. Civil Defense: O'Brien decides he wants to try out that "killing everyone by accidentally tripping a hidden deadly security protocol" bit from "Armageddon Game" for real. Gul Dukat tries to gloat, but ends up getting stuck there with them. We still cool, guys?

8. Meridian: An extremely creepy guy pursues Kira in order to make the moderately creepy guy pursuing Dax come across as less creepy by comparison.

9. Defiant: Holy crap, it's Riker! But not that Riker, the cheap transporter accident knockoff Riker from TNG. He's still got a complex about that and thinks stealing the Defiant and blowing up some Cardassians will make everything better.

10. Fascination: This season's bout of crazypox breaks out around the station, this time making everyone fall madly in love with each other. Odo is once again immune, but they seem to be setting up a love triangle between Odo, Kira, and Bareil, which is a damn shame because love triangle stories tend to be terrible and make me hate every character involved, which is extra sucky because Odo and Kira are my two favorites (just not together).

11-12. Past Tense: Sisko, Bashir, and Dax accidentally get transported to... (checks calendar) ... three weeks ago, and are forced to participate in a homeless riot in order to maintain the timeline. Unfortunately, someone had already messed up the timeline, which resulted in there being bulky CRT monitor computers, giant bricks of flip-phones, and shotguns being the terrorist weapon of choice in 2024 (though, to be fair, if they can just keep that last change and stop the proliferation of military-grade semi-automatic rifles to civilians, that would be great).

13. Life Support: Winn wanted to be Kai for the perks, not the responsibility, and literally works a mortally wounded Bareil to death in order to get a peace treaty she can take credit for. Otherwise a fairly poignant episode about when to stop treatment and just let someone go.

14. Heart of Stone: After the death of the hypotenuse of their love triangle last episode, Odo and Kira confess their feelings for each other. But, of course, since Odo is never allowed to have nice things, Kira turns out to be a Changeling who's just here to troll him. #JusticeForOdo.

15. Destiny: Goddamn I hate "prophecy" stories that end with, "Well, if you redefine the meaning of literally every word in that word salad, it ends up vaguely resembling what happened, therefore there must be something to it." No, it was not as the prophecy foretold. Shit just happens and you just twist your vague predictions to accommodate it and then give yourself a pat on the back and demand people take you seriously. Go away.

16. Prophet Motive: The wormhole entities turn the Grand Nagus into a communist, so Quark threatens to annoy them for eternity unless they turn him back.

17. Visionary: O'Brien starts jumping through time, and they figure out every component of his time-skips to the point they can trigger them at will and see the future. And then will likely never utilize this knowledge again. Though the episode really should have ended on O'Brien going to bed, yet another O'Brien popping up, and him just lamenting, "Oh god, NOW what?"

18. Distant Voices: Deep Space Nine presents Inside Out, starring Bashir as Sadness, Dax as Joy, O'Brien as Fear, Kira as Anger, Odo as Disgust, and Garak as Bing-Bong.

19. Through the Looking Glass: Mirror!O'Brien shows up and kidnaps Sisko and takes him back to the universe where everyone is horny all the time. Really hope this doesn't become a recurring thing, since "multiverse" stories that are merely "it's the same people, but they're different!" are rarely compelling.

20. Improbable Cause: Bashir's boyfriend is in trouble again, and this time it's Odo to the rescue. They track down Garak's old boss who offers to let them join a war against the Dominion, and Garak... accepts?

21. The Die is Cast: The Cardassians and Romulans launch an attack on the Dominion, but it was all a trap thanks to a Changeling replacing the Romulan commander. Makes me wonder how many other characters have or will become replaced by Changelings, or if they're going to even bother trying to come up with a way to detect it, since even Odo can't tell and has been fooled twice now.

22. Explorers: A pleasantly low-stakes episode in which Sisko can somehow build an entire functioning spaceship by hand in only three weeks, the flies it to Cardassia just to prove that he can.

23. Family Business: Quark goes home to teach us that the only thing a Ferengi values more than profit is oppressing women, even if doing so causes a massive loss of profit. Also, glad they finally gave a shout-out to how many runabouts they've trashed and the need to get new ones.

24: Shakaar: Winn continues to fail upwards by becoming the presumptive next president due to having no viable opponents and the Bajoran populace getting all their information from BOX News and not realizing she's a piece of shit. So Kira nominates a popular upstart last minute to run against her and actually make her work for it, and Winn cries "coup" and "rigged election" and good fucking god this episode is too prescient. They may have gotten the state of affairs of 2024 wrong in the episode that was literally about 2024, but then accurately predicted them in pretty much all of their Winn episodes.

25. Facets: Dax asks the people closest to her to host her previous lives so that she can talk to them. Including... random girl who had two lines a couple episodes ago who's now acting like she's part of the inner circle. And Odo, who has historically been immune to psychic shenanigans. But the episode continues to exemplify that Curzon was a piece of shit, and that Dax-centric episodes still manage to have nothing to do with Dax herself, but rather her previous incarnations or Trill customs, leaving Dax with still no solid personality or motives three seasons in.

26: The Adversary: Sisko gets promoted to Captain and decides to celebrate by almost starting a war and blowing up the entire senior staff due to bad intel from a Changeling imposter.

Three seasons down, four to go! Bashir is doing a lot better this season, since his womanizing and bragging have been toned way down and he can actually focus on being a doctor. Dax is still just a cardboard cutout there to remind people of the opinions and actions of her previous incarnations, but still have no identity of her own.

And then towards the end of the season they just awkwardly brought in a couple of women simply to be love interests to our crew members who are still lacking a heterosexual partner. At least, I'm assuming what's-her-face who had two lines and hit on Bashir at the beginning of one episode and then was suddenly chummy enough with the senior staff to participate in Dax's memory roulette ritual a few episodes later is supposed to be a love interest for Bashir. Go away, random lady, he already has Garak.

The choice of crew of the Defiant also reminds me of a really, really old Star Trek joke I read as a kid about the "Kirk Maneuver", which is "Kirk knows this is the most dangerous planet in the universe so takes his entire senior staff with him when he beams down". Like, shouldn't there be a separate operations crew for the Defiant so that you don't suddenly lose your entire station leadership if something were to go wrong? But, nope, The Main Characters Do Everything.

[ladamedusoif]

Music (Marcus Moreno x Music Teacher F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 5

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist. FYI: I'm having so much trouble with taglists at the moment that I'm not going to use them for now - if you want to keep updated, follow @ladameecrit and turn on notifications.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Music Teacher F!Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Fluff; intended as taking place after the events of We Can Be Heroes; one very tiny minor swear; Missy plays the trumpet; some references to Christmas carols and A Christmas Carol; yes the denouement is partly inspired by a scene in Love, Actually; no physical descriptions of reader; no use of Y/N; Marcus Moreno in a Fair Isle sweater.

Word count: 1565

Summary: Marcus Moreno is a Band Dad. You’re Missy’s music teacher and director of the junior high school orchestra. And you might have a tiny crush on a Heroic. And where better to realise that than at the holiday concert?

“Marcus. Marcus. MARCUS!”

Anita Moreno stands in the doorway of her son’s kitchen, wondering why Marcus is so oblivious to her voice as he empties the dishwasher, back turned. 

“Oh, shit!” He lets a plate fall, startled by the seemingly sudden apparition of his mother. “Hi, Mom.” Marcus removes a pair of earplugs, scoops up the broken crockery, and crosses the room to embrace Anita.

“Earplugs, mijo?”

He shrugs and points upstairs, in the general direction of his daughter Missy’s bedroom. The strains of the trumpet solo on Joy to the World float through the house.

“She’s practicing extra hard for the holiday concert in a couple of weeks. She’s really good, Mom, she’s a star soloist. But… there’s only so many times you can hear the same stuff."

Anita huffs a laugh. “Been there, done that. I was secretly very glad when you decided you didn’t want to keep up piano lessons.”

Your rehearsal with the school orchestra is winding to a close with a final run through of Carol of the Bells, when you catch a glimpse of Marcus Moreno slipping quietly into the little auditorium and taking a seat near the back. He nods towards you in recognition, and you return the gesture while continuing to conduct the musicians. 

Missy joined the orchestra a couple of months after her mother died, the camaraderie and creative outlet a useful form of therapy for a grieving child. Marcus, understandably, had been a little protective of her at first: ensuring he was there to pick her up after evening rehearsals, insisting on driving her to weekend day-long training and performance events, and always being one of the first to arrive for every show.

You had a quiet, teacherly pride in the way Missy had grown in confidence and independence since joining the group. Marcus still sometimes arrived early for pick up, settling in to hear the last piece of music at the back of the room, just like this evening. And he remained an enthusiastic “band dad”, as his Heroic colleagues teasingly called him. He’d worked closely with you on fundraising events over the years, and gladly used his public profile to boost support for programmes designed to give instruments to children otherwise unable to afford them. You had come to enjoy spending time with him, quietly thrilled whenever he would appear at rehearsal or join you at funding drives.

The final note rings out from the handbell section. Your hand signal marks the end of the piece. The teenagers begin chattering excitedly, and Marcus “Band Dad” Moreno applauds in the back row. 

You can’t help but laugh when he starts cheering “Bravo!”, sending a mortified Missy diving for cover behind her trumpet case. He swiftly walks down the aisle when he notices you struggling to fold up the portable music stands, insisting on lending a hand as you start wrangling them off stage. He makes short work of it, lifting them with little to no effort and carrying them in his strong arms.

“Sounding great, as always,” he muses, stacking the stands in the little music store room. “I’m really looking forward to the show. Missy’s been practicing every minute she gets, she’s so excited about that solo.”

“She’s a talented musician, Marcus.” You lean in conspiratorially. “Even so, I hope you have invested in those earplugs I recommended. No matter how talented she is.”

He smiles that warm, genuine smile that somehow feels like the sun coming out, even in the depths of midwinter, and leans even closer. “Two pairs, just in case. And thank you. Seriously, thank you.”

“Has anyone heard from Missy?”

Your musicians shake their heads. It’s 6.55pm, the show is due to begin at seven, and there’s no sign of your lead trumpeter. The students have been trying to contact her on every social platform they can (and that’s a lot), and you’ve left a voicemail for Marcus.

“I’m going to try her dad one more time. For now: please take your places. If she doesn’t show, we’ll just have to fudge Joy to the World.”

Your left hand twitches nervously as you pace around backstage, listening to the ringing tone on the other end of the line. The telltale click of a call going to voicemail makes your heart sink. 

“Marcus, hi, just me again. Um, we’re a little worried to have not heard from you or Missy and we hope you’re both okay. Please don’t panic and get here whenever you can, okay? But be safe. Hope you’re safe.”

As you hang up, you realise just how worried you are about them. 

Marcus is getting out of his car before it has fully come to a halt, grabbing Missy’s bags and setting off at speed in the direction of the back entrance into the auditorium when his daughter calls him back. 

“Dad! You forgot to turn off the engine?”

He swears under his breath, sprints back to the vehicle, and grabs Missy by the hand as they run into the school. 

“Do you think we’ve missed your solo? I’m so sorry, sweetheart, you know how work gets sometimes and -”

Missy thinks for a moment, listening carefully to the music coming from the auditorium as she leads her dad down the narrow backstage corridors. “No, they’re still on In the Bleak Midwinter,” she whispers in reply. “Then there’s an intermission, and then it’s Joy to the World.”

Marcus exhales in relief, but keeps up his pace. “Phew. Okay. Guess we have to wait for intermission, right? Do you feel okay? Able to go on? Not too out of breath?”

Missy pats her dad on the arm. “It’s fine, Dad. I’ve got this.”

The orchestra and vocalists file off for the short intermission and you follow close behind, mentally trying to work out how to cover up the missing solo in the second half of the show. 

And there they are. Missy, silently practicing on her silver trumpet, while Marcus, wearing a dark green sweater with a Fair Isle pattern around the yoke, stands with his arms folded and what can only be described as a look of sheer anxiety on his face.

“You’re here! You’re okay! I mean, uh… you made it!”

Marcus looks up at the sound of your voice and shrugs apologetically. “I’m so sorry, it was…work stuff, I can’t… I’m so sorry, is it still okay for Missy to perform? She’s worked so hard and -”

Instinctively, you place a reassuring hand on his forearm. He feels warm and solid under the soft yarn. 

“Breathe, Marcus. Of course she’s performing. I’m just so happy you’re both here.”

He unfolds his arms, visibly relaxing, and lightly touches your shoulder. “I’m happy we’re here, too.”

Is he…blushing?

Missy’s solo is, as expected, a triumph. She plays better than she’s ever done before, the house erupting in applause as the piece ends and she takes a special bow. 

You have a little break now from conducting duties, as the orchestra remains on stage while a couple of students from the drama club perform extracts from A Christmas Carol. You return backstage to get a drink of water, and find Marcus standing behind the black curtains serving as a backdrop, peeking through and beaming with pride and delight at his daughter.

“She’s wonderful, Marcus.” 

He nods as you stand beside him. “She is. But she has a great teacher, too. You’ve been so important to us - I mean, to her - the last few years.”

Now it’s your turn to feel heat rise through your body as you become aware of just how close you are to him, of the feelings that refuse to go away, no matter how much you try to suppress them. 

Even in the semi-darkness, you can see how he’s looking at you from behind his glasses. Warm. Kind. And…wanting?

There’s no one else around. Everyone else is either on stage or in the auditorium. 

You move closer simultaneously, leaning in and inclining your head in anticipation of what you think - hope - is about to happen. And then those big, broad hands are caressing your face and cradling it as his plush lips meet yours, his moustache a little ticklish against the soft skin of your mouth, and your arms wrap around Marcus’s broad body as his kiss intensifies.

The student acting as narrator is declaiming how Ebenezer Scrooge was a second father to Tiny Tim - who did not die - as Marcus Moreno holds you tight and kisses you. Even Dickens couldn’t top this.

And then you forget, for an instant, where you are. Marcus shifts just a little too much to the right, you move with him, and with a thundering crash the backdrop falls from the rigging to the floor, exposing the two of you wrapped around each other.

The kid playing Tiny Tim isn’t going to let anything interrupt his big moment, not even the music teacher making out with a literal superhero on stage during the big holiday concert. As the auditorium gasps, the orchestra swivels and stares, and Missy slumps forward and groans, he doesn’t miss a beat as he throws his arms wide and proclaims: “God bless us, every one!”

[moxiebustion]

I had an idea for the Old Guard and Sherlock Holmes a few months back, which goes like this.

John Watson is an immortal.

He doesn't remember the year he was born, but it was after Andy and just before Quynh; and in any case the calendar has changed over more than a couple of times since then.

He is, in an incredibly unlikely scenario, killed by Andy the first time, because this was way back in Andy's crusading days and there have been plenty of invaders to Albion. They kill each other and dumb chance has one of them getting washed away by a river or something and hey, look at that, no dreams, because technically they have met before. Hardly a meeting to engender the warm fuzzies in any case. Life goes on.

Andy goes back to her wandering.

Watson, after many aimless years believing himself to be cursed to be a walking ghost, watching all the people he falls in love with die, falls in with a leader of men - a truly unique mind - and it lights a spark and gives him a purpose, finally. When the king dies, he makes John swear that he will defend his lands and his people until his last breath, which, you know, might be a while. Watson vows it, and Watson is not a man who breaks promises.

Sometime in the ensuing centuries and far to the east, Andy finds Quynh (or more accurately, Quynh finds her) and oh, hey, those dreams were about an actual person, they're real, Andy is not alone. There is much rejoicing, etc, etc, and Quynh says hey, we might have to go find the other one.

And Andy is like... what the fuck?

So they head back west and lo and behold, it's the damn random soldier that wouldn't quit and got tossed into a river for his trouble. And he's amazed, astounded, enthralled. Well, he is after they've clashed swards a few times; in Watson's defense, he has no idea what the fuck is happening. He's been haunted by weird dreams of a lady getting it on with his murderer for years and, you know, this is centuries pre-Jung, he has no explanation at all for this except that he might be going ever so slightly, benignly insane.

So, anyway. Blood is spilled, then swords are disarmed, explanations are had, amazed, astounded, enthralled etc etc.

Andy says you should come with us.

John, channeling his inner Hobbit two and a half millennia before JRR Tolkien was even conceived offer her a polite thanks ever so much, but, um, no.

Andy's like, what the fuck?

And Watson is like, well, I made a promise, and you don't break promises, do you? I swore to protect these lands and by gum, I'm going to do just that, thank you.

And Quynh says, aren't you bored though?

And Watson just give her a slight smile because at this point he's had three wives and two husbands and has raised innumerable orphans and says well, no. Not really. Wherever I go I find interesting people. Truly unique minds. My king rises again, you see. And so do all my friends. They rise again and again. I see them everywhere, in every genius, every artist, every eccentric who takes a chisel to the universe and cracks it open. They're always there if you care to look. And I swore I would protect them and I'll keep my word, so I will.

Andy looks at him like he's insane, but shrugs and says, well, when you change your mind come and find us, we'll be out there doing some actual good.

And Watson just gives her a little smile and said gods go with you then, Andromache the Scythian. You'll have a hope and a sword arm with me if needed, but otherwise I'm staying right here, thank you very much.

And that's that.

Andy expects Watson to join them eventually. He never does. It drives her fucking mental, which means she respects the hell out of him for it.

Time goes on. Life goes on. Seven husbands and three wives later, Watson meets the new guys. He adores Nicky and Joe - he's known as Galvagin by this period of history, and Nicky and Joe are fascinated by this immortal who has travelled every continent in earth (and married on them), but never wanders. He has a home. He has people who know he's immortal in his home. His spouses all knew, so do most of his children. They keep the secret. He becomes a local cryptid of sorts. Oh, yes, that's just the old soldier's house, ha ha, they say he's immortal, ha ha. And no one ever examines the joke too closely. Besides, some old-fashioned jingoism helps keep the secret too. He's their immortal, isn't he? Proper British and all that. It's not as if he's some foreigner.

The Old Guard come and go through the years. Sometimes Watson will join them on a grand adventure or a fight for a few years, but he'll always head home. Sometimes they'll lodge with him and explore every nook and cranny he knows of the isles. Andy and Watson's relationship becomes strained after Quynh is lost, because look at you, why do you defend them?? But Watson gave his word and he will not break it, even for Andy. What people are without sins, he asks, without treachery and cruelty and ignorance? The Old Guard has helped plenty of pretty shady regimes in their time. They can only be made better, only helped to change. He will search every inch of the coast, he promises, he will chase every rumour and every hint that comes to him. He will sail every boat that might conceivably travel across where she might be. He will try. But he will not leave.

He does help search. But eventually the others, grieving and in despair, must leave again. Watson promises to keep his eyes peeled in the meantime, a solitary watchman.

Watson doesn't see them again - except for letters - until the advent of Booker. He connects with Booker over his grief - oh, how many children has Watson lost! Spouses too! And over an astounding number of stories of unique minds, his resurrected friends, that Watson has found over the years. Watson is himself a very interesting man, and a good storyteller and Booker shares this love of stories. He tells him if he ever needs respite, he can come to Watson's home for a while.

Booker opts to stay with the Old Guard only because he still doesn't like the English very much, and also because running into jobs and missions sometimes distracts from the wailing grief inside his head.

When they finally all meet again, Victoria is on the throne, steam trains are ascendant and Watson has shacked up with another unique mind at 221B Baker Street.

He's an interesting one, Watson, who is now Watson properly on paper. And he smiles. He has found another friend, risen again.

Why John? Andy asked.

Boring, Joe says, who is still somewhat smarting over Joseph Jones.

John shrugs and says: There's enough Johns to make it commonplace, and I'm pretty commonplace. And Watson because, what son am I, where is my father? I do not remember.

Besides, he adds ruefully, no one uses Galvagin these days. No one east of Wales can pronounce Gwalchmei correctly...

(Booker nods in fellow feeling).

And Gawain just sounds pretentious. So... John.

It is a good name, Nicky Smith smiles.

And in the corner Sherlock is losing his goddamn mind because he had a) no fucking idea what kind of mismatched pidgin they are speaking and b) every single logical deduction he tries to make about these people all make perfect sense until they open their mouths and start talking about their lives, and then it's like OUT OF CHEESE ERROR, REINSTALL UNIVERSE AND REBOOT.

The problem with John Watson is that you have to eliminate the impossible, and the marker for that keeps fucking moving.

(Mycroft, on the other hand, as this era's Copley, sweats bullets every time John gets within spitting distance of the Stone of Scone)

[starsstuddedsky]

As a Matter of Fact [Teaser]

reader x jihoon

masterlist | Chapter 1

summary: when you're caught in a simple lie, the best solution? dig in and stick to your guns until everything inevitably goes wrong and everyone gets hurt

or, a serial dater and a pessimist fake a relationship in the vain hope that nothing will go wrong

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, lawyer au, coworkers to lovers??? friends to lovers???? fake dating!!!!!

warnings: drinking, food, arguing, refusal to acknowledge feelings, two kisses, whatever is going on with Wonwoo, suggestive jokes (courtesy of Wonwoo)

teaser wc: 1.5k

full wc: 38k (I’m sorry)

a/n: AHHHHHHHH i've been working on this for too long, I'm so happy that i'm finally sharing this with you all!! I'm gonna split the full story into chapters but i'm not entirely sure how many there will - though it's all written (AH), it still needs editing so i will keep y'all updated <3

edit: I’m estimating roughly 10 chapters, hopefully released weekly (first date 2/14!!!)

updates: every tuesday

finally if you would like to know when the first chapter drops, just send an ask <3

If Jihoon was stopped on the street and told to name three facts about you, he could probably do it. He doesn’t know your favorite color, or what you ate for dinner last night, but he knows where you went to school (since it’s been the same school as him since elementary school) and where you work (since it’s the same law firm he works at). He might struggle for a bit for a third fact, but eventually settle for this: you are hopeless when it comes to love. 

Unfortunately, Soonyoung isn’t asking three facts about you, he is asking what Jihoon has planned for your anniversary. Jihoon blinks at Soonyoung, standing beside his table. 

“My anniversary?” 

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “With yn?” 

He runs a mental check of any possible thing that Soonyoung could be referring to, then checks his calendar on his phone. Both come up empty. 

To be honest, Jihoon would be more surprised if there is something he’s forgetting. Despite knowing you for so long, he’d never call you his friend; at best, you're a coworker. 

But the way Soonyoung is looking at him now makes him wonder if he’s forgotten something, and worry that whatever he’s forgotten is important. 

“You don’t have anything planned?” Soonyoung says, loud enough for the couple sitting at the table across from Jihoon look up. Soonyoung doesn’t seem to notice. “Dude, it’s been a whole year. I can’t remember the last time yn has had a boyfriend for a full year, you have nothing planned?” 

Boyfriend? Jihoon stands up, snapping his laptop shut. “Look, I don’t really know what’s going on, and quite frankly, I don’t have time for it. Tell yn, or whoever is behind this prank that it’s not funny and to grow up.” He leaves Soonyoung standing there frowning, leaving the coffee shop and pulling his satchel over his shoulder. 

It’s a short walk from the coffee shop to the firm, and Jihoon uses it to think things through. Here is what he knows: 1) Soonyoung is your best friend since middle school 2) he isn’t the type to lie about this for fun and 3) you have sworn off dating (a fourth fact!). So either A) Soonyoung lied (uncharacteristic) or B) you’ve lied (not out of character for you, you are a divorce lawyer). He figures the second option makes the most sense, though the why still troubles him. He waits for the elevator staring at his distorted reflection that makes face shrink and his ears look comically large. 

There’s a small ding and the doors open, a stream of people flowing out that Jihoon politely steps to the side to let through. Thankfully, it’s a much less crowded ride up, only a couple other people, none of whom are going to the firm on the nineteenth floor. Jihoon is able to focus completely on the person he otherwise has spent very little time thinking about: you. 

Despite knowing you for so many years, Jihoon really couldn’t say much about you (see above limited list of facts). What he does know is usually filtered by Wonwoo, whose office is next to yours and separated by rather thin walls. Jihoon didn’t expect Wonwoo to be into gossip, especially since he’s known you since law school and actually calls himself your friend, but Jihoon has heard more about your love life than he ever wanted to. That’s why he knows of crucial fact #4: You have sworn off dating. 

He knows, from Wonwoo, that after your third boyfriend in as many months, you gave up on ever being able to balance dating and work, tired of having your heart broken over and over again. According to Wonwoo, who allegedly heard this from you on over the phone with your friend (which Jihoon thinks is at the very least an invasion of privacy, but Wonwoo argued you were on a personal call during work hours so it’s free game), you cited your failures in love to your own tendency to “catch feelings too fast” (he isn’t sure if Wonwoo was quoting you or using his own words, but they stuck with him). But, from Wonwoo’s lamenting, he knows that you’ve since sworn off dating, giving up on the pains of failed romance. So why does your best friend think that you’ve been dating him for the past year? 

He isn’t thinking when he walks into your office without knocking. You’re on the phone, though you hang up quickly when he walks in. You’re frowning, and he wonders if Soonyoung was on the phone when you hung up. You stand as he pulls the door shut behind him. 

“I can explain,” you say, confirming his suspicions. “It’s not what you think.” 

“Oh, so you haven’t lied to your friends and told them we’re dating?” Jihoon says, folding his arms. 

“It sounds bad when you say it like that,” you mumble. 

“It is bad,” he says, shaking his head. “Honestly, you’re lucky I don’t report you to HR. This is borderline harassment, you really should know better.” 

“I know,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Seriously, did you think you could get away with it? Soonyoung went to middle school and high school with us, surely you knew this wouldn’t last,” he says. “What were you going to do at a reunion?” 

“Well, I didn’t go last year,” you mumble. You leave out neither did you, but when you meet his eyes, he can tell that you aren’t totally beat. Not yet. 

“I just thought you were smarter than this,” Jihoon says. “I mean, we don’t know each other well, and I know you never scored as high as I did on tests, but I didn’t think you’d be this stupid.” 

“I get it, you think I didn’t think this through,” you say. “I really am sorry, but I don’t have the time to listen to you lecture me for a full hour, so can you at least make it quick?” 

Jihoon blinks. “Why?” He says, more statement than question. “Why did you lie?” 

You sigh, slumping into your chair. “Long story very short, I had a few too many bad relationships and I decided I wasn’t going to date anymore because apparently I have a tendency to fall in love with brick walls.” 

Jihoon figures it’s a bad idea to tell you he already knew that, opting to nod so that you continue to explain. 

“The problem is, pretty much none of my friends believed that I would actually be able to keep it up,” you say. “They thought that I’d fall for the first person that gave me an ounce of attention. The thing is, it actually did work. I haven’t been on a date in a year, and I think it’s been really, really good for me. But my friends didn’t believe it. 

“So I lied. I told them I started dating someone from work, and I did think it through: I said someone from the firm, since they don’t know anyone, and because my mystery boyfriend is a lawyer, they weren’t surprised when he was busy all the time and couldn’t come to anything. Plus, since it was someone from work, I could say that we had to keep everything quiet because I told them dating wasn’t allowed. Everything was perfect, actually.” 

Jihoon can almost see your logic. Almost. “Why me?” 

You’re quiet for a long moment, staring at your closed laptop. “They wanted a name, and yours was the first I thought of, and then the lie just sort of took on a life of its own.” You have the audacity to smile. “Did you know that you’ve been in love with me since elementary school?” 

Jihoon scoffs. “There’s no way they believed that.” 

“You’d be surprised,” you say, smiling fondly. It vanishes when you meet his glare. 

More than anything, Jihoon is confused, but the one thing he is sure about is that he doesn’t want anyone walking around thinking he’s dating someone that he isn’t, especially not when that someone is you.

 He can’t think of anyone more different than him, and your office is testament to that, filled with all sorts of knick knacks and brightly colored pillows, mugs from around the world strategically spread around your bookshelves, which hold a combination of books on law as well as classic novels and collections of stories. He remembers that before you went to law school, you majored in English. Pride and Prejudice sits in between a copy of War and Peace, with a bright red glass ornament keeping them upright. 

He thinks about his own office. His only decorations were at the insistence of Seungkwan and Seungcheol: a plant that Jihoon was actively trying to kill (and starting to suspect is fake), a set of colorful highlighters that he would never use that Seungcheol said “lightened the room,” and a framed photograph of all of his friends at Seungkwan’s graduation. The last piece, a gift from Seungcheol, is the only one he will admit he doesn’t mind having in his office, but he could live without everything. He doesn’t know how you manage to work with so much going on in your office. 

But the biggest difference between the two of you, Jihoon realizes, comes from a fundamentally different understanding of the world: while you seem to find love in everything (and everyone), Jihoon simply doesn’t believe it exists.

if you would like to know when the first chapter drops, just send an ask <3