"It's Karen," she says hopelessly in the middle of his doorway like he wouldn't know her a thousand other ways. The whiff of perfume on her, Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb trapped underneath a thick smear of booze, or the sound of her shoes on the hard tile floor. She's drunk already; her breathing is faint and thready. Her face is too hot.

Better safe than close. A phrase Alleria repeated to herself so many times over their lost years that it has become some strange combination of vow and hymn.

What it says on the tin. Jeff topping for the first time, for justbreathe80.

None of this makes any sense, really. Jim's barely laid a hand on her, if he doesn't count the occasional hand-up over difficult terrain, or accidental (mostly accidental) groping when an explosion throws his bridge crew around, and Jim doesn't count that, because if he counted that he'd be at third base with Keenser by now.

Kylo keeps talking to people in the Resistance about Finn's opinions on, well, everything. And the worst part is, he's quoting conversations they actually had.

Maria's not sure how it all happened, really.

A little bit of contextless silliness, written for Elise. Mild Jehan-related naughtiness and an impatient Grantaire.

Beginning a life in Montreal.

Author summary from thingswithwings:
T'Challa – King T'Challa of Wakanda, the Black Panther, Guy Who Dresses Up Like a Cat to Fight Crime or Possibly for Other Reasons, Who the Fuck Knows – T'Challa corners Sam during one of their visits to check in on Bucky and says, in a mild voice that should not sound as threatening as it does, "We need to talk."

"We do, huh," Sam says, looking him up and down. He's just a king and a superhero and a genius inventor and possibly the riche…

"You're Murdock's second in command."

"We're partners," Foggy says, but he can't not trip over the words because it's fucking cold in here and his tongue feels swollen in his mouth. Maybe he's got a chipped tooth. "That's how lawyers work, we're partners."

This guy knows about Matt. He fucking knows.