#anyways I kinda want to write a drabble

[f1yogurt]

I haven't written for Zemo in a while but I have this prompt idea in my head: like an amnesia fic where Helmut has been wounded or drugged during his time in the military (by Hydra??) and Heike has to sort of rescue him and bandage him up (whump!!). Helmut finds himself crushing on his beautiful rescuer hard though, and he doesn't remember that he's married to her. He tries to flirt and fails and it's all extremely amusing to Heike because she likes to press all of his buttons and make him flustered

Thinking about this in mind of people who hate reading self insert fics lol like if you're interested

[spamgyu]

COLLEGE!Mingyu AU - dates and confessions

no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable

REQUEST: heard that collage Mingyu is finally getting ahead in his love life with Oc and the oc might confess. Sooo what if Mingyu tells oc that he is going on date and OC gets jealous ->gets to know that she likes him and boom she confesses

[College!Mingyu Masterlist]

She didn't want to admit it.

Not to herself, not aloud, not to her brother, not to her parents, and definitely not to him.

Y/n had fallen for Mingyu.

She could have sworn it would never happen, only seeing him as friend... who just happened to make her laugh and smile, even during days when she felt like the world was against her.

And sure, she may have found herself wanting to spend more and more time with him – agreeing to all his invitations to eat their meals together, hang out in his dorm room, and late night study sessions in the library.

It wasn't until she found herself absentmindedly staring at him as he placed their coffee order at the counter, when she realized that maybe she saw him as more than a friend she enjoyed spending her free time with.

Y/n began to notice how much she loved seeing that stupid smile of his, the one that showcased those stupid cute fangs of his. Her heart skipping a beat each time he would casually sling his arm over her shoulder as they walked alongside each other. It was such a casual act that she didn't seem to pick up on it the first time he had done it – but as time went on, she felt as though her skin was on fire each time he made contact with her.

Of course, it didn't help that he was a shameless flirt, playfully hitting on her any chance he got.

Not only was she over analyzing his actions towards her but also his words.

The ones he most likely used on all the girls that were lined up to get even a crumb of attention from him.

God, she was one of them.

"How do I look?" He barged into her room – pulling her out of her brain rot.

"Why do you look so..." She trailed off, taking in his appearance. In all the times she had hung out with him, Y/n had only seen Mingyu in an outfit variation of hoodie, sweat pants, or shorts. For once, he was dressed ... presentable. Or at least, different from his usual rotation of casual wear.

It was simple outfit. A white tee, brown cardigan, white Sambas, and black chinos she could have sworn he purchased at UNIQLO during the time she had dragged him to the mall – not because she wanted to be with him.

No definitely not that.

He had a car on campus and she needed a ride.

"Good?" Mingyu completed her sentence with a smirk.

"Put together." Y/n corrected.

"Minghao is going on a date and she's bringing a friend."

Oh.

A date.

A double date.

He was going on a date.

"Ah..." She nodded, hiding the wave of disappointment that washed over her.

Of course he was going on a date.

Of course.

He was single, and she was just a friend.

Of course.

"You should wear your chain." She suggested.

"It's not too much?"

Y/n shook her head.

She loved that chain on him. That singular piece of jewelry had sent her over the moon the first time she had taken notice of it.

Y/n could remember that day so clearly.

It was a rainy day and Mingyu had insisted on grabbing dinner at a nearby tofu house instead of their usual on campus dining hall dinner dates.

Platonic dinner dates.

He had ordered his soup extra spicy and had shrugged off his puffer in the middle of their meal, sporting only his plain black tee and silver chain. Y/n nearly choked on her meal trying to suppress her gasp.

He looked good.

"Who's the girl?"

Mingyu shrugged, taking a seat on her bed. "Hopefully she's cool."

I hope she's lame and not his type.

"That's your main concern?"

"Yeah, I hate boring dates."

"You'll be fine. Just talk her ear off like you usually do with me."

"But it's easy with you because you're already my friend."

Friend. Ouch.

Y/n knew she had feelings towards him, but she didn't think it would be this bad – feeling the disappointment turn into jealousy.

Wanting to keep her composure, Y/n pretended to busy herself with the mess on her desk. "I still think you'll be fine."

"If it goes south, will you save me?"

"Have you seen yourself?" She snorted, placing her gel pens into their respective cup holder. "She'll probably do anything to make sure that date goes well."

"Did you just admit that I look good, y/n?" Mingyu chuckled.

Pausing her actions, Y/n whipped her head to see a smirking Mingyu – her eyes wide. "Oh god, you'll never let this go."

"You think I'm attractive?" He continued, hopping off her bed; making his way to her.

Taking a step back as he closed in on her, Y/n stretched out her arm to ensure he didn't come any closer. But he was persistent, taking another step as the smirk grew larger; her hand landing right on his chest.

His well defined chest that was always hidden under the baggy garments he chose to wear.

This is not good.

"Well, you're not ugly." She took another step back, withdrawing her arms back to her side.

"Why are you so red, I'm just playing." He chuckled, pinching the tip of her hot ears.

Her foundation was doing a great job of hiding the redness of her cheeks; she should have known when she felt the rush of warmth engulfing her face that her ears would give her away,

"My ears are always red." She leaned away from his touch.

It was a shitty excuse and they both knew it.

"Sure." Mingyu winked.

There he goes again with that stupid habit of his.

Y/n noticed that anytime he was feeling a little too flirty with her, he had a habit of winking whenever he would tease her. At first, she didn't care for it, but as time went on and as her feelings began to develop – she began to hate it.

Because of how well it suited him... and how she knew he most likely used this on other women.

It made her sick.

"Whatever." Y/n grumbled. "Aren't you going to be late?"

Mingyu shook his head. "You still have me for five minutes."

Have him.

Yeah, fucking right.

The most attractive guy on their school basketball team? The one that drew in girls who had little to no interest on the sport, cheering for him every time he would steal the ball from the opposing team? The one that had their whole floor swooning anytime he greeted them?

She'll never have him.

"Ugh, please just go." Y/n groaned, pushing him towards the door – but he was far stronger than her, standing his ground. "Mingyu please."

"I'll leave if you promise to get boba with me after."

So she can hear him talk about his date after? No thanks.

"I'm busy."

"Bullshit."

"I am! My roommate has been bothering me about going with her to sigma chi's–"

"A frat party?" He coughed in bewilderment.

It wasn't that he didn't believe her.

It was the fact that he did.

Images of her drinking in the mess of sweaty bodies, at some crappy poorly maintained home, with no one to look out for her, had caught him off guard.

There was no doubt she partied, he's heard stories of it.

But... Mingyu didn't think she would choose it over spending time with him.

Not since she had managed to agree to all his ideas of hanging out.

"We can go tomorrow." Y/n suggested.

"Fine.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

"Hey." A tap on her shoulder had drawn her attention from her conversation with Hansol, a guy from her biochem class.

Correction, the guy that had a hand on her passing the class; allowing for her and the rest of their lab group to copy off of his homework.

"Someone's outside looking for you." Her roommate continued.

Emphasizing on the word 'someone'.

"I'll be back." She excused herself from Hansol; squeezing past the mess of bodies that occupied the home.

Y/n let out a sigh of relief once she had reached the front yard, the cool spring air filling her lungs – a stark contrast to the humid air inside.

Scanning the row of parked cars, Y/n's eyes landed on the familiar black 90's Honda Civic; hazards blinking brightly.

"How was your date?" She bent down to peer into the opened window.

"Boring." Mingyu reached over to unlock the door. "Get in."

"I'm–"

Before she could finish her thought, Y/n found herself sliding into the front seat of his well maintained car. He had told her many stories of him and his father fixing up the vintage hatchback – most of his summer, and savings, going towards restoring his so called 'baby'.

She couldn't find a good enough excuse to stay; knowing that her roommate was far too occupied with her friend group they had run into when they had arrived.

Y/n absence wouldn't be missed.

Mingyu chuckled as she buckled herself in, throwing out the remaining liquid in her red cup.

Her father would kill her if they were caught drinking underage.

And if that wasn't enough, he would probably murder her if they were caught with an opened drink in a moving vehicle.

"What's so funny?"

"I knew you would get in the car." He smiled as he started the car back up.

"I– whatever." She also didn't have an excuse for this. "Was the girl cute?"

"No. Was your guy cute?"

"My guy?"

"Your roommate said you were talking to some guy." Mingyu recalled when he had called out to the girl who had gotten quite used to his presence in their room – asking for y/n's whereabouts.

"Kinda."

"Kinda." He made a face as he kept his eyes on the road.

"Yeah, I think you guys would be cute together." Y/n laughed at her own joke.

Mingyu's unpleased look changed to a smile, reaching over to give her cheek a poke. "Do you think I'm his type?"

"Oh yeah." She continued.

"What about you?"

"He's not my type."

"No I mean– Am I your type?"

"Yeah."

It was good thing the streets were empty at this hour, Mingyu's foot instantly stomping on the brakes – his arm reaching over to stop her body from lunging forward from his sudden actions. "What?" He whipped his head to face her.

He was only half joking; not thinking she would actually answer him seriously.

"What?" She blinked.

Y/n didn't realize she had accidentally blown her cover, their conversation going faster than her brain.

"You said–"

"No I didn't." Y/n replied quickly.

"Yeah you did." His eyes grew wide, almost as if he had fully processed what she had said. "You said I'm your type."

"Yeah but– okay you're tall, my parents like you, and you're smart–"

"Calm down," He chuckled at her flustered state. "You're my type too."

"Shut up." Y/n didn't want to completely buy it; he had been messing with her for as long as she could remember. For all she knows, this was just yet another moment he was doing just for shits and giggles.

"I'm serious."

"Yeah well, if you know someone who checks off those boxes–"

"Me, I check off those boxes."

"Not you."

"Why not?" Mingyu scoffed.

"You're just doing a bit."

Furrowing his brows, he tried to read her; not understanding why she was being so dismissive of him.

Usually when two people confess their feelings, or whatever this was, it was supposed to be sunshine and rainbows – it should be the pivotal moment of their relationship.

And yet, it seemed as though Y/n didn't want to acknowledge it.

Almost as if she didn't want it to be him.

"I– no yeah, it's so a bit." He rolled his eyes, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

"Come on, Mingyu. I'm just your coach's daughter he tried setting you up with. You don't have to keep up the act."

"Sure." Mingyu replied simply, resuming their drive to the boba shop they frequent just a few miles from the campus.

The silence was almost deafening as she attempted to muster up a single word to say.

Anything.

Say anything.

"You're not messing with me?" She toyed with the ends of her hair, keeping her focus on the split-end she was picking at.

"What made you think I was?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I've spent more time with you than I have with my friends, I changed my path to my calculus class so I can walk with you to your english class, I ditched my date–"

"You ditched your date?"

"I mean, they wanted to go to Seaside Donuts after and I said no." He turned to her as he slowed down at the red light. "I joke around, but I'm– I do have feelings for you."

Y/n peeled her eyes away from her hair, meeting his gaze.

She didn't want to believe all that he had confessed; just as she didn't want to believe her own feelings.

She knew he wasn't lying. She too has seen him more than she has seen her own friends in the past month and a half; her friends calling her out in their group chat about spending more time with Mingyu than with them.

It wasn't her fault that he was quick to make plans.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, I believe you."

A smile began to creep on his lips, the one she adored so much – full fang and all. The one that was engraved in her head, making her heart flutter every time she thought of him and that stupid grin of his.

"So what does this make us?" He wiggled his brows.

"Friends."

"What the fuck?" Mingyu laughed.

"You just came back from a date, told me I'm your type and expect me to be putty in your hands?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

As if his smile couldn't get any bigger, Mingyu's lips stretched from ear to ear. "You were jealous?"

"Green." She nodded over to the light.

"Don't avoid my question."

"Not jealous. But not please either."

Mingyu reached over to give her cheek a poke; an action he found himself doing quite often.

He couldn't help it.

It was soft, and the pout she made every time he would do this was worth the light smack he would receive.

It was cute.

"I owed Hao a favor. It won't happen again."

"I don't care."

She did care.

She cared a lot.

She never wanted to feel that possessive towards him ever again. That was a nasty feeling, bubbling in her chest as she thought of him enjoying the company of someone that wasn't her.

What has he done to her?

"Yeah you do." He poked her again.

"Whatever." Y/n bit back the smile that threatened to form on her lips. "I have standards, you know. This doesn't change anything until I say so."

Y/n didn't think this was how she was going to tell him how she felt. She didn't think she would ever tell him, to be quite honest.

It wasn't the most ideal situation, she was sat in his car buzzed from the mixed drinks she had been sipping on earlier that night whilst they drove to get milk tea... after coming back from a double date...

It wasn't the romantic scene she had in her head.

"That's valid," He nodded. "What's one more box to check off, right?"

Mingyu had no issues with continuing to pursue her until it met her standard.

She was the one he wanted, after all.

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

[decarbry]

Watching them leave from the door felt strange. Wrong. Like it shouldn't be happening like this. As soon as the handle latched, he moved to the third story, climbing the stairs fast enough to catch the tail end of the little troupe disappearing around the street corner. He could hear Toga's laughter even from this distance.

Yabureme didn't budge from that spot, even as the evening drew to night. Spinner had said they'd be back before midnight, and though Yabureme had nothing to check it against, his internal clock said that it would be a few hours yet until that hour passed and he should start to worry.

He'd started to worry the second he lost sight of Tomura beyond that door.

He was meant to use this time to sleep. With no one to guard, it would be the perfect time to catch up, maybe eliminate some of the waver in his limbs. But the worry was a plague. He hadn't even tried to sleep, only listened and watched that little square of sidewalk they'd vanished from.

Kurogiri entered the room, but Yabureme ignored him for the moment, instincts dividing his attention in case an order was given. Even then he could feel a pinprick of pressure in the back of his head as the man stared him down.

Without seeing it, Yabureme sensed that it was the same look Kurogiri gave when he caught him nearly falling off of his feet in his vigils. Narrow-eyed and pointed, communicating his sins without actually saying anything. Kurogiri was the only one who really noticed on any consistent basis, but his concern was sharper and less warm than Spinner's could be.

He and Kurogiri both shared an innate purpose, after all: to protect. And they both knew that if he kept on like this, when the moment came, his body may just fail in its duty.

Perhaps that was why he'd been given the role of babysitter for the night.

[waterfallofspace]

What A Way To Start A Year

T/im learns a little something about karma, friends, and care. Seems even J/on isn't quite as cold as he seems.

A M/agnus A/rchives fic, set somewhere pre-season 1. Shouldn't have any spoilers, but proceed with caution just incase~ (nothing late game, just character dynamic things)

Welcome to "I meant for this to be a little drabble and I wrote 3k words"~ Having a bit of hyperfixation and burn out as I started this new year, soooo I decided to make T/im suffer <3 Not promising quality seeing as I wrote this all in the span of tonight, but consider it a lil 'too long' drabble, and happy new years!

Best way to start off the new year, giving one of your lil guys a lil snz <3

Characters: T/im, M/artin, S/asha, and J/on. Word Count: 3.9k

(CW: There is some swearing, and light descriptions of high fevers)

Christmas had been good this year, maybe the best it had in a long time. Life of the party as always, Tim had enjoyed getting to spend it with his old, and new, colleagues. On top of that, Jon had been laid up with a pretty awful cold for a couple days leading up to it, so he wasn’t around to crush any brilliant ideas Tim came up with. 

This led to the budget receiving a fairly substantial hit, though many researchers donated to the cause when they learned this borrowing wasn’t exactly approved. Hell, even Elias had pitched in, claiming something or other about ‘archivists fit for the job not exactly growing on trees’, and wanting to ‘save some of Jon’s sanity’. 

“Tim? Are you even listening to me?”  

Pulled back to the conversation at hand, Tim lifts his gaze to the taller man fidgeting nervously in front of him. Martin was never one for confrontations, and usually the first ‘no’ would have been more than enough to lead to a string of apologies for even asking. Today however, he seems to have grown a spine. At the worst possible moment. 

“Oh come on,” Martin continues, missing the groan slipping from Tim’s throat. “Even Jon agreed to it!” 

“I’m not really in the party mood,” Tim retorts, leaning back in his chair. “Besides, Jon didn’t agree to celebrate, he agreed not to stop the celebration. Not the same thing.” 

From across her desk, Sasha gives a low chuckle. “He’s got you there, Martin.”

“Can you at least give it a little thought before turning it down?” Martin insists, completely out of character for someone usually so eager to please. 

What the hell has gotten into him today? He didn’t even seem to enjoy himself that much at the Christmas party. Sure, he had a few drinks and mingled with the staff, but he’d left as soon as it was over, not waiting around for chatting like Tim and Sasha.

Clearing his throat with a grimace, Tim casts Sasha a dark look as she chuckles again. Knowing far too much, as usual. Especially when it came to him. If it was anyone else, Tim would hate it with all his being, but given that it’s Sasha… well it’s a welcome invasion. 

Still, it would be nice if she didn’t rat him out. And to Martin of all people, well let’s just say he saw what happened when Jon was sick. Yeah, passing on that one. Attention is great, Tim lives for it, but the coddling? Not really his style. 

“hiEH– guh…”

Damn, that had been a close one. Thankfully Martin seems oblivious, though Sasha sits up in her chair, reaching down into a drawer to fish something out. 

Turning his focus back to Martin, Tim provides an offer, desperate to just have the interaction come to an end. 

“Fine, I’ll show up, but I don’t want any part in planning it.” 

“Oh of course, I’ll handle all the details, I mean it’s just a new years party, how much can there really be to do? I mean food, timing, gotta make sure we have keys to the building– oh but if Jon’s there, that shouldn’t be a problem…” Martin says, rambling beginning to fade into the background as Tim finds himself unable to- 

“hH– ek’CHhiew!” 

“-Oh, bless you!” Martin says, his own thoughts long forgotten. 

Unable to get a word out, Tim merely waves a hand, ducking into his shoulder for another, “eTChhew!” 

“Bles-” 

And another, “iTSChh’ew!” 

“Oh ble-” 

And another, “ehh– kTChh’iew!” 

Silently Sasha stands, handing Tim a pack of tissues. Must have been what she was looking for in the desk. Once again, knowing more than she should, of course she picked up on his patterns. 

Accepting them gratefully, Tim pulls a few out and roughly rubs at his nose, pointedly avoiding Martin’s worried gaze. Gripping his still trembling nose through the tissue, Tim sucks in a tight breath through his teeth, holding for a beat, before finally spinning around in his chair for a final- 

“hH’ETCSHh-ieuw! Whew, bless me.” 

Martin’s hands are fidgeting again, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself as Tim gives his nose a light massage through the tissue. He’s aware enough not to point it out, but is nearly shaking with the effort of suppressing his concerns. 

With a sigh, Tim meets his eyes. “I’m fine, Martin. I always sneeze like that.” He leaves out ‘when I’m sick’. It also happens if he’s suffering allergies, though he doubts that would be a point in his defense given it’s the middle of winter. 

“Yeah he’s not kidding,” Sasha pipes up, throwing Tim a wink as he glares. “You should hear him in spring, once it starts he can be going for hours.” 

“I wouldn’t say hours, Sash-” 

“Remember the cherry blossom incident?” Sasha interrupts, sending a sugary smile over to Martin. “He was wrecked for the rest of the day, I was almost certain he was never gonna stop. Even considered giving a statement here, that reaction was almost supernatural.” 

Tim winces, an audible moan slipping from his lips. “We swore to never speak of it again.” 

Sasha laughs, Tim giving her another playful glare from behind his tissues. “You swore that, I did no such thing.” 

Thankfully Martin doesn’t pry, having enough common sense to offer a polite chuckle, and offer some excuse about ‘planning’. Still, he can’t help himself from shooting a meek “I hope you feel better soon” over his shoulder, Tim giving him finger guns in return. 

“This is karma, you know,” Sasha calls after Martin’s outside earshot. “You took pleasure in Jon’s suffering, so now it’s your turn to suffer the same fate.” 

“No, thi- eTChhew! Scuse me,” Tim says, rubbing his nose with the tissue one last time before depositing it in his nearly overflowing trash can. Another tissue is plucked as his eyes begin to water, nostrils flaring with reckless abandon. Never just one. 

“kTChh’uew! hh’iTChh –uew! Tihhckles… eTCHh! etchh’uh! hiehh–” 

The last one toys with him, tracing the rims of his nostrils, back up his sinuses, a gentle itch that seems to burn against every inch of his nose. Finally, with a desperate gasp, Tim ducks into his wrist for the last, “heh’ATChhh –iew!” 

“Many blessings. Sounds like you need them,” Sasha offers with a wince, tossing another pack of tissues over, which Tim catches with a single hand, the other still gripping his nose. 

After taking a moment to clean himself up, Tim shoots her his signature smile, ignoring the eye roll she shoots back. “Where was I?” 

“Admitting this is karma?” 

“It’s not karma, it’s lack of common sense. Going to a party where a coworker is sick, and still drinking and eating the same meals” Tim says, aiming a rough cough into his sleeve. 

Sasha winces once more at the quality of the cough, hands rummaging through her drawers once more as she tosses a reply back. “And yet you’re the only one who caught it. Seems like karma to me.” 

Closing the distance between them in a single stride, Sasha places a hand on Tim’s shoulder, voice softening. “It’s two days till new years, why don’t you go home and try to get some rest? I doubt Martin will object, and I’ll cover for you with Jon.” 

Before Tim can form his rebuttal, Sasha places a box of paracetamol and a jar of vapor rub in front of him. Nodding his thanks, Tim lets out another harsh cough into his arm, leaning as far away from Sasha as he can manage. 

With a light rub to his shoulder, Sasha walks to the door, holding it open with a pointed look. “Go home, you sound awful.” 

“Alright, alright. I got the message. hH’ETchhiew!” Tim says, gathering his care package and beginning his walk down the hallway. 

“If I hear the rest of that fit happening in this building, I’m telling Martin how ill you really are,” Sasha calls after him, a smile flashing over her face as Tim holds up his hands in mock surrender, before ducking back into his arm with another muffled burst. 

— 

“You look horrible.” 

Tim manages a weary smile from behind the tightly wound scarf. “Thagk you.” 

Martin winces, standing in the doorframe, seemingly oblivious to the winter chill soaking into Tim’s bones. Even just the walk from the train station was hell on earth, standing out here is doing him no favours. 

Turning away with a throat scraping cough, Tim manages to clear the congestion enough to finish the sentence somewhat understandably. A great feat, given how fast his voice is retreating. “May I remind you that I’m only here because you insisted.” 

“Right, well I… I didn’t know how bad-” Martin begins, realizing spreading across his face like a wildfire as a chill leaves Tim breathless. “Oh god, I’m making you freeze to death while you’re already this sick, I’m so sorry, come in, I’ll go make you a tea.” 

Tim nods his thanks as he piles inside the warm institute, cursing his aching lungs as each breath of warm air seems to burn them from the inside out. Martin rushes away, nearly crashing into a few researchers as he makes his frantic dash for the kitchen. 

The scarf is reluctantly removed, a shudder running through Tim’s back as the warm air does nothing to soothe what he’s now certain is a growing fever. A few researchers wave to him, offering some idle chit-chat as he makes his way inside.

For the most part, people give him a wide berth, apparently he looks as bad as he feels. Tissues in hand, gripping them like a lifeline, Tim finds his way to a couch and lets himself sink into it. The party buzzes around him, fading into background noise. 

Martin returns soon after, the mug vibrating slightly as he attempts to steady his hand. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d want, we have a pretty limited amount, but I have a few extras in my desk– oh I could have probably found one for colds and flus, I’m not sure which this is, I thought cold before but you look-” 

“Martin,” Tim interrupts, voice cutting uncomfortably through his raw throat. “Can I have the cup?” 

“Oh, right, sorry!” Martin says, a sheepish grin crossing his face, nerves more than anything else, as he hands Tim the mug. Tim gives another appreciative nod, taking a cautious sip. 

The warm liquid feels like heaven against his throat, and he barely manages to choke back a whimper. The flavour is still a mystery, Martin never actually got to that part. Given how little he can taste at the moment, seems it’s gonna remain that way. Still, the heat beginning to warm his chest is a welcome relief, and Tim has to fight to keep his eyes from drifting shut…

“Watch out!” 

The voice rouses him, his eyes snapping open just in time to witness Jon dropping to his knees in front of the couch. The realization doesn’t sink in for another minute, Tim blinking the tired from his eyes and trying to figure out why people are staring… and why there’s a hand on his finge– 

Oh, the tea. Thankfully Jon’s reflexes seemed to kick in just in time, his hands guiding Tim’s cup to the table next to him. Judgement clouds the boss's eyes as he turns back, fully ready to chastise Tim, no doubt. Jon opens his mouth, one hand beginning to point, but as his eyes scan Tim’s form, his demeanor changes instantly. 

“You don’t seem well.” Jon’s voice is still firm, but with a hint of something Tim can’t quite place. On anyone else, he’d call it concern. On Jon… perhaps concern isn’t far off, though the underlying criticism of the statement irritates him. 

“I wonder why that could be? It’s almost as if someone came to the Christmas party sick enough to fall asleep standing. Twice.” Tim says, sarcasm lining his words, alongside the congestion he can’t seem to fully shake. 

“Well in that case,” Sasha chimes in, cheerful voice a natural antithesis to the misery coursing through Tim’s system. “Seems you’re halfway there!” 

“Hey, I was lying down, that’s hardly the sahh… same thing– hH’ETchh!” 

“Here we go,” Sasha says, already turning on her heel to find a tissue box as Tim’s hitches increase in desperation. 

“aHTChh’ew! gn’tchhew!” 

“Bless,” Jon offers, a brief confusion crossing his face as Sasha laughs, shaking her head. 

“He’s not done,” She says, handing over the tissue box. 

Tim grabs for it blindly, too caught up in the fit to even attempt dignity. Still, the eyes on him do leave him with a hint of embarrassment, and the onslaught is muffled as best he can manage. “hH’MMpshhew! eMPFShh’ieh! hh’MFSHhueh!” 

Blessings sound out from the room, Tim managing to wave a hand towards the ones offering them, eyes still watering. As the fit seems to stall, he lowers his tissues, red nose now visibly twitching. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks, the hint of concern from before now plainly evident. That’s frankly more alarming than it should be, and Tim finds himself wanting to… reassure the boss. 

“I’m okay, it’s juhh… j-just… huhh–” But it seems his nose has other plans, a tissue being raised once more as Tim paws at the appendage. “‘Scuhhse me, I still have… hahhve to… to… hiHh– eTCHh’ew! hk’ASCHh–oo!” 

This time the tickle fades with the final pitchy sneeze, Tim letting out a low groan as he mashes his nose into the ever growing collection of tissues he’s clutching. A few people call out final blessings, Sasha laughing out hers as Tim’s face goes red once more. 

Martin picks this time to enter the room with drinks, Tim letting his eyes flutter shut as the focus shifts off his misery. A gentle touch keeps him from drifting off to sleep, prying open an eye to find Sasha settling onto his left. 

“Careful, don’t want to catch this,” Tim manages, leaning against his right shoulder to muffle another stream of chesty coughs. Sasha winces as it goes on past the realm of comfort, her hand finding his back. 

“Don’t worry about me, I haven’t earned this cold, I didn’t make use of Jon’s or your suffering,” She says, the playful tone not masking the growing worry in her posture. 

While she can read him like a book, she’s no mystery to him either. The tension in her fingers, absentmindedly stroking patterns on his back. The way she subconsciously tries to support his body weight, despite them both sitting. The look in her eyes when he manages to stall the coughing long enough to meet them. 

With this brief respite from the attack, Sasha takes the chance to bring Tim’s tea back, his fingers wrapping around the warm mug. The first few sips burn, his lungs protesting, begging to return to their efforts to expel all the irritation. By the third, however, the warmth is spreading once more, easing the spasms. 

“Alright?” Sasha asks, beginning to stand from the couch. Tim nods his reply, taking another slow sip. “Think you’ll make it till midnight? We’ve still got a few hours to go.” 

He nods his approval again, not yet trusting his voice enough to make an attempt. Sasha simply smiles, easing back into the party that– Tim had almost forgotten existed. That fever must be worse than he thought, given how loud it is. A fact that’s now pounding against his head in harmony with his heartbeat. 

The party continues on, Sasha and Martin taking turns checking in on Tim as he slips rapidly in and out of consciousness. Seconds turn to hours, and before he knows it, it’s two minutes to midnight. 

As Tim blinks against the harsh fluorescent lighting, it’s Jon that stands before him, hand hovering near his side. Tim begins to speak, breaking off into a cough as his voice comes out rough with sleep and congestion. 

“What’s up boss?” He manages with the second attempt, not missing Jon’s wince at the nasal quality. 

“You simply look… well, the festivities are nearly over, I was just inquiring as to…” Jon seems to get stuck, eyes wandering down to the couch as he finishes. “I know you took the train here, I was seeing if you needed an escort home.” 

“How kind, I’d be delighted to have your accompaniment,” Tim responds, the wit clouding the fact he… hadn’t actually considered needing to go home. Jon seems to take this answer as satisfactory, ignoring all the sarcasm as he gives a tight nod and an out of practice smile. 

From across the room Martin calls out, something about a countdown. Tim attempts to pull himself to a stand, finding Sasha’s arm around his waist, guiding him to the wall. Leaning against it, he lets his rough voice join the chorus as they count into the new year. 

Despite how the lights and noise had pounded into his skull, everyone chanting in unison helps Tim realize that… there actually aren’t that many people here. Aside from his coworkers, there’s only a few researchers, and Elias is not in attendance.

Honestly, thank whatever cosmic being may exist for that one, he had been none too fond of Jon’s arriving sick. Tim shudders to think what he would have said about this state. He shouldn’t have come, but… something about how insistent Martin was… well he just couldn’t disappoint that loveable idiot. 

Somehow Tim finds he’s managed to keep up with the counting, despite being worlds away in his thoughts. As they approach the final numbers, a feathery sensation begins to spread through his nostrils- no. 

Absolutely not, this is not the time. It’s never just one, there’s not enough people here, someone’s gonna notice. And I mean, it’s not like he’s hiding the fact he feels like death, but… drawing that much attention is also not the goal. 

“Five! Four!”

“hiehh- h’ngTchh!” He manages to stifle the first, the congestion pounding in his head as the tickle seems to only get worse. 

“Three! Two!” 

“I cad’t– nNDtch! nGTCh’uh!” 

“One–” 

As the cheers begin to erupt, Tim ducks into the tissues with a scraping, “ehg’TCHhiew!” 

“Happy new years!” 

“yiEShh’iew! etchh’uh! hH’AESHH –oo!” Tim dips into his hands again, managing to sink down against the wall as he lets out a congested blow, ending the fit.

“What a way to ring in the new year,” Comes Sasha’s voice, her form blocking the light from Tim’s eyes as he looks up, fever blurring his vision.

“Shud ub.” 

“Christ Tim, you sound awful,” Jon adds, his form appearing behind Sasha’s. 

“Thagks boss,” Tim retorts, groaning as he notices a third form, Martin’s nervous fidgeting easy to spot even from this angle. Martin remains silent, though his eyes seem to hold more concern than any of them, and… guilt? Or maybe that’s just the delirium. 

Glancing up to meet Sasha’s gaze, Tim offers a weary, “Tibe to go hobe?” 

She nods softly, kneeling to help him to his feet, Martin wordlessly taking his other arm. Jon stands off to the side, hesitating. What for, who knows. All Tim can focus on is one step after the other, just gotta make it home, then he can sleep. For the rest of forever, at this rate. 

As they get to the door, Martin helps wrap the scarf around Tim’s neck, forcing him to lift it from its perch against Sasha’s shoulder. Sasha, for her part, supports his weight with ease, she was always stronger than she looked. 

Martin keeps casting glances towards Tim, obviously fretting over something. Too tired to manage his usual charm, Tim gives Martin the softest look he can manage. “Jusd say id, please. You’re makigg me nervous.”

“I’m so sorry I asked you to come, you’re obviously so unwell, and I know I didn’t really know that at the time, but I should have, or at least texted and checked in, I just… I wanted us all to get along so bad and I thought if you came it would mean more fun because you’re always so lively and good at talking to people and-” 

Tim holds up a hand, eyes glazing over as Martin stops short, breath coming almost as rapidly as Tim’s. After a minute goes by, Martin starts to open his mouth, seeming confused by the interruption, before nearly jumping out of his skin as Tim ducks into his fist. 

“eTCHh’ew! hH’YEAShh –iew! Sorry, I feld those cobigg… waid– hih’ETCHhew! heAYSHh’oo!” Tim ducks down again, Sasha grabbing him tighter to support the harsh shudders as he attempts to keep his balance. 

“Oh bless you,” Martin offers, voice coming out timid. Tim gives him, what he hopes is, a warm smile despite the fever taking hold of the last corners of his mind.

“If I didn’t wanna cobe, I would have stayed hobe. I dod’t blame you.” 

Martin nods silently, a relief seeming to flood his face. Taking his place once more supporting Tim, they move towards the exit. Opening the door, the first wave of cold floods the entryway, and a chill so violent runs through Tim that both Martin and Sasha take a step back to brace him. 

It’s now that Jon speaks up, voice strained with a type of worry Tim hadn’t heard before. “No, we’re absolutely not doing this, I refuse.” 

The trio turn towards him. Though perhaps a more accurate description is that Martin and Sasha turn, Tim simply goes along for the ride. Martin mumbles something about ‘no other choice’, but Sasha asks what Jon’s on about. 

“It’s too cold out there, it’s the middle of the damn night, there’s no way I’m letting him go home like this.” 

“And what do you suggest we do as an alternative? He can’t stay here-” Sasha begins, pausing as Jon turns towards her. 

“Why not? I’m the archivist, this is my archive,” Jon begins, pausing for a moment, before adding, “Well, Elias’s, but I hardly think he’d suggest we send an employee home in this weather while they’re this sick. That’s just bad management, he’ll freeze to death before even reaching the train.” 

As if to confirm this assumption, Tim shudders violently, ducking into his chest with a tired, “hh’eshhew! eTCHh’iew!” followed by a heavy sigh. Martin mumbles something about covering, but quickly silences himself as Tim begins to tremble again. 

Sasha gives Jon a look, seeming to read him for any hints of doubt, perhaps searching for an ulterior motive. After a brief pause, their eyes meeting, she gives a tight nod, approval of some kind. 

“Come on Martin, let’s get him back to that couch, he can sleep there for the night,” Sasha directs, Martin nodding his acceptance. 

Tim manages to catch snippets of the conversation as they get him settled. Jon fetching him a blanket he keeps in his office. Martin providing some more tea. Sasha grabbing tissues and medication for when he wakes up. Something about Jon sleeping in his office so he’s not alone, and Sasha coming in early to help him home. 

With his final bout of consciousness, Tim holds up a hand, the conversation immediately pausing. “Thagk you guys. And… esSHhh’ew! And, I’b sorry.” 

All three stare at him for a minute, before Sasha breaks first. Her laughter fills the silence, Martin joining in soon after, and even Jon letting a few chuckles slip out. When they’ve finally collected themselves, Sasha gives Tim a warm smile. 

“Sleep well, Tim. I’ll come fetch you in the morning.” 

With a content sigh, Tim lets his eyes drift shut again, his consciousness fading to the soft hum of his friends in the background. 

Alright, so maybe coddling isn’t quite so bad after all.

[good-beanswrites]

oooh, for the drabble prompts may I request Books or Night? with whatever characters speak to you for this one <3 thank you!!

Ahh thank you pal! :D I went with Books for Mahiru and Mikoto (I mean it takes place at night but idk if that counts lol)

From this ask game

Mahiru read a lot of books. She read a lot at her university. She read a lot on her own time. She could recall endless romance novels in which the knight in shining armor came to rescue his lover from her dark, musty dungeon cell. The thing was, she couldn't think of a single one in which the fair maiden had killed him before he got the chance.

She huddled in the back of her cell. Her headache had been a permanent one the last few days; Shidou wasn't sure when he'd have more painkillers for her. She didn't mind. It wasn't her head that hurt the most.

Hands clawed at her chest. She'd read so much at her university, and even the most unhappy endings weren't quite like this. There was always a message, a meaning to it all. Her thoughts returned to the classroom, when she drew out little charts and diagrams plotting out books. There always came a turning point. There always came a moment where everything became clear, even if it didn't improve. So, where was hers? When would this all make sense?

In the middle of her desperate search for a pattern amid everything that had happened to her -- everything that had happened because of her -- a knock echoed off her cell door.

"Come in..."

She was surprised when Mikoto swung it open. He gave her a slightly awkward, "hey."

Mahiru flinched as he tossed something her way. She barely caught an apple in her hands.

"You didn't show for dinner."

"T-thank you." She was slowly growing accustom to the new Mikoto that had started appearing around the prison. Now that had been a story-worthy twist. "Sorry to make you worry. My head was hurting, I just wanted to rest in here."

He nodded. "Yeah, I get that."

Whether it was the brief kinship she felt remembering how he'd been complaining of constant headaches, or the fluttering in her chest from the thoughtful gift he'd brought after noticing her absence, or even just a lapse in judgement due to her injured brain, she blurted, "can I ask you something?"

"Hm? Shoot."

She hoped what she was about to say wasn't ridiculous to him. She looked down at the apple.

"I... keep thinking of my favorite books. In all of them, the hero comes in to save the day just in time. But my hero... he... I mean, I..." She didn't need to explain it to him. Her smile filled with sorrow. "Between that and what happened with Kotoko... I'm realizing that no one is coming to save me. You and Amane, you don't seem as worried about it. How do you still have hope that someone's going to help?"

After an agonizing moment in which she was sure he was going to laugh, Mikoto crossed the room to her. He knelt on her bed. His expression radiated an intensity she wasn't used to seeing on him. He took her by the shoulders. His grip wasn't painful, but it was unshakable. His voice, too, came out commanding, and not cruel.

"Listen to me. No one's coming for you. You're right. No one else is going to help you get out of here. That's why you need to do it. I know it's not easy, but you can't just roll over and let this place walk all over you. The only one who will always be there to save you, is you. You need to be the hero, okay?"

She stared at him with round eyes. It wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. Or maybe, it wasn't the answer she'd wanted. She spoke with instinctual protests.

"But, but --! I'm not strong, or smart like the others. What can I even do for myself?"

Mikoto held her gaze, and she began to understand. "It's just like the stories. You do anything you can. You do everything you can."

[theloveinc]

from worst to best on the scale of how bad each boy’s apartment is when you come back home after fighting for a week: 

Deku - uhhhh dirty and messy because he completely falls apart. doesn’t do a single piece of laundry the entire time and lives purely off what he already has in the fridge and cabinet, even if that means he’s picking at the same leftovers for a week. the kitchen is the worst of it, he doesn’t touch the dishes either... and his bathroom has started smelling a bit like mold 

Kirishima - moldy fruit in the fruit bowl and moldy vegetables in the fridge. has gotten takeout every single day but hasn’t taken the trash out once. the whole bedroom floor is laundry and the bathroom is just a mess of open products and drawers. has no toilet paper or paper towel or anything. he’s literally been sleeping under just a sheet

Bakugo - pretty clean except his fridge is essentially empty except for condiments and a spill. he’s also been wearing the same pajamas for five days straight and lowkey? highkey stinks. ghost town in there

Todoroki - nothing too significant has changed except for some reason his sheets smell like he hasn’t gotten out of them for a week. his body wash and toothpaste are also like... entirely empty and his shampoo is mixed with water. 

[fumbles-mcstupid]

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Rating: General Audiences

Fandom: Jurassic Park III

Relationship: Billy Brennan/Alan Grant

Billy would stay with him, watch over him, hundreds of feet in the air. Alan gets pistol-whipped.

(1/3) Double drabble snapshots from movie scenes or missing scenes under the banner of my first series, The Whole of the Moon

[morewyckedthanyou]

So I know I haven't been online for like two weeks or possibly longer but I am back (kinda) and I come bearing a shitty drabble inspired by THIS post because ever since seeing it for the first time it hasn't left me alone.

Funnel cake turned into ice cream but whatever. Also Bobby as a longsuffering sidekick because I love Bobby, ok.

“Johnny, you can’t be serious!” Bobby hissed at his friend, trying to steer the blond away from the ice cream kiosk and, most importantly, the middle aged man Johnny was trying to chat up. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Fine”, Johnny sighed and followed him, but not before giving the old man a long look over his shoulder that spoke volumes. Bobby could swear he saw the man blush.

“Are you crazy?!” he exclaimed immediately out of earshot. “His older kid looks like she’s not much younger than us!”

Johnny just shrugged, pouting.

“Maybe I just wanted a free ice cream.”

Tagging @diningwiththeasquiths and @zappedbyzabka because without you this drabble would not exist.

[padfootastic]

ok ok ok so i think i kinda completed my remus & sirius conversation…thing that i was writing in my messages app lol

i haven’t actually compiled all of it in one place yet so idk how it’ll read bc it’s so spaced out in terms of writing and stuff and i’ll almost definitely to edit and add some more bits and pieces but it’s so. different from what i usually write? like way more dream of consciousness and almost too flowery? and it feels—incomplete but i’m wrestling w the urge to pad it with unnecessary details lol

but yah. very very nervous and very excited.

[claudemblems]

wip for Dan Heng :3

Who cares what they want? you thought to yourself, not daring to move a muscle lest you should let your boyfriend know that you were, indeed, very much awake. He would have scolded you for your words despite holding the same sentiment himself. Someone has to be the practical one in this relationship, he’d told you, but becoming your boyfriend had to be the least practical of decisions he’d made in recent years. With your insatiable curiosity and heroic soul, you always ran yourself head first into the unknown, not knowing what danger or paradise lay ahead. But you were a magnetic force that even Dan Heng could not repel, and like a moth to a flame, he found himself drawn to you–every part of you–and if that meant setting himself ablaze, then so be it.

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

OKAY SO it may be almost two hours past midnight for me and it may be season 4 in 2 minutes BUT I am going to make this post lol. So, it's time for HSMTMTS Appreciation Week Day Four: Favorite Episode/Season!

Honestly I don't think I have one of either xD

I love all the episodes, and most of the time when someone asks me for my favorite of something (like books or movies) I just go with the one that has the most rewatch/reread quality/potential. So, some of these episodes may just be the ones I watch the most lol.

Each season has their pros and cons for me, but I will say I think I enjoy season 2 more than most people! The ending isn't amazing, sure, but it has some really great music, ship moments, acting, and Wildcat family moments :).

Season 1, they're not all family for a little while, and we don't have as much development on some of the others, nor most of the ships. But it's also fun that it's the most grounded season lol, and it just has a special charm. Also, it really focuses on the musical lol!

And season 3, obviously I miss Seb, Big Red, Mr. Mazzara, and half Nini and Ms. Jen from it :). And sometimes the drama is a lot, but at the same time, there's so many cute and fun moments, it is absolutely HILARIOUS, and the change of setting is super cool :). Since I'm a multi shipper, it's also a con for Portwell and a pro for Rina lol xD.

Anyway! Now, a few of my favorite episodes :).

Season 2 Episode 5: is this one a surprise even xD. I love Seblos, I love the Wildcats, and I love great music! What more could you ask for? Also, it's just so sweet that they'd throw a big party for one of their friends like that :'). And it's especially cool seeing Carlos be appreciated <3. Plus, it gave us "I never learned how to lie", so you know xDD.

Season 2 Episode 10: LISTEN. Again, is it partly because of Seblos lol? . . Sh xD. But seriously, it's great Seblos drama, the music is once again amazing, and I LOVE the sleepovers :D!! The recipe for my favorite episodes is really just Seblos, Music, Wildcats xD. Lol. But seriously, it's such a good episode <3.

Season 1 Episode 6: Maybe it's just because it hits home, which is weird because that makes it bittersweet, but I love this episode. It's really focused more on them being a family than any of the ships (which is interesting and a nice change of pace :) ) and it has some great music! Plus, the photoshoot lol. And of course, a few Seblos moments, and some lovely Carlos angst xD. Justice for the Seblos deleted scenes 😤😔. Lol, but yeah, I love this episode <3.

Season 1 Episode 7: Again, my Wildcats xD. I was hesitating to put this on here because the end hurts me so much, but it's just too good :). We have Carlos inviting everyone to someone else's house (for the first time, I think, lol), Ricky and Nini being chill for a bit, Gina being adorable, and the start of Redlyn 👀. Lol, remember when one of the half jokingly proposed ship names was Big Rashlyn xD? Bring it baaaack lol, we deserve it. In a good way, not as punishment xD. Anyway! The real star of the show this episode, though, is of course the party :). We love the Wildcats being family, and I seriously love them all so much <3. And again, Seblos moment lol. The music is good this episode (I adore Out of The Old), but there's not too much of it lol, so I forgot to mention it and came back here after the next paragraph xD.

Season 3 Episode 7: LISTENNN. Once again, I can do anything I want xD. I think I said that earlier, or maybe in one of the other posts, but nonetheless lol. I say it a lot regarding things like this lol. Anyway! Obviously, SEBBB!!! HE RETURNS TO ME :'DDD!! But we also have Ricky's bucket list (ADORABLE) and everyone's ICONIC outfits :D. So sorry to Portwell though :( xd. That does hurt throughout the episode lol. Oh, and of course we have the iconic welcoming of Ashlyn to the community :'). And Wouldn't Change a Thing!!! Such a slay :D. Honestly though, I love the ending, like, after the dance. I don't know if I love it more than the prom itself, but seeing the guys come together and support each other, and the same for the girls, with a BOPPING song in the background? Amazing :'D. And, of course lol, Seblos moments <3. And the second Seblos kiss!! I love them so much :). And, like I said, amazing music!!

Season 3 Episode 5: This one is just so hilarious xD. I had to include it lol. Plus, :O drama a bleeped out curse on HSMTMTS!! We don't get many so that's a slay for being unique xD. Also yes, Carlos totally deserves it 😌😤. Like, to get one lol. Just like Natalie, lol. Anyway!! Yeah, this is so funny xD. It also has great music!! The drama hurts, of course, but we love the little moments of supporting each other xd. And again, I just have to mention how FUNNY it is, those moments xD. Plus, the fact that it's all (well, yk. Mostly xD) a plot is amazing lol. I just love this episode lol.

So yeah!! I think that'll do it for today :). I probably won't be on Season 4 for a bit tomorrow, as in it'll take me a little while lol. I still need to finish my rewatch xD. But, I will watch it!!! And I'm so excited :)) 🥰.

[venalier]

💙          »        name    3    things    your    character    is    grateful    for    .

       　´ ✱ ‾‾‾‾   thoughtful prompts.

with the onset of the rain's pelting rush against the glass came the thunder of speeding feet on lightwood. a streak of red, she tore the corners at a sprint, clutching at the decorative wing feathers adorning her head. "father, father! the storm's here again!" inevitably, her strident alarm would precede the grey sky's malefic rumble by seconds only, sending forth a yelp as she tumbled headfirst into waiting arms and an indulgent laugh, rich with warmth.

he came with the spring, always. in later years, she would wonder why this was when the thought occurred to her to revisit such things. it was months too early for her birthday, and months too late for his. the holidays weren't fit to be celebrated in the deeprealms, where both the means and the people to enjoy it were few and far between. but, like a blossoming bough in concert with the season, he would appear — splendidly, fragrantly, and often without warning; to be woken up to some clear and unexpected morning, instilling the certain energy about the house that came only with the cyclical advent of something wonderful and fleeting.

and for a few, ephemeral days, he would hear her fear of the thunder and the rain, as endemic to her little capsule of reality as her books and her solitude. she did not go to her guardian and his family in the same way; the man would often shake his head to the lord retainer that his daughter didn't seem to care about the rain when he wasn't there. and indeed, for a little while longer in later years, she would continue this pattern of running to his tall and secure embrace shouting of storms long after the fear had turned from real into something of a charade, something of a remembrance, a holding on to warm and sweet things — if it had ever been anything but a charade in the first place.

she thinks, she must have been permitted to be a child once.

"oh, the storm's going to set in soon."

she carried a load of new shipments in her arms, and her red had lightened to a red that was different from his. she carried herself straight, no longer sped from place to place on feet that flew.

"caeldori, you're not going to cry and run to me again?" he would ask, smiling. and perhaps within the teasing inquiry was something of the entreaty that only a father who had lived too little of the best years could make of his child, but she was now of the age that was uniquely blind to such things.

"that's so embarrassing! i haven't been afraid of the rain for years, father. i wish you'd stop bringing that up."

he came with the spring, and by the time the rains had petered into the first warm and dry days of early summer, he had departed — gently, quietly, with the precise opposite tenor to the unannounced exhibition of his arrival; he was plucked away one by one, lingering here, there perhaps: a final parting trinket, a promise to be well-behaved, to be stronger for the next time, until the last of the petals had stripped from the wood, leaving the perfume of camellia lingering for days after.

on the march, the rain was often a reason to complain. it slowed progress, wiped away tracks, sogged through tents and supplies. she was not immune to such grievances herself of mud-caked clothes and the damp, laden thickness of breathing. but who was it then, a soldier who once had wiped his brow and said, "oh, don't be so hard on it. anyway, it always smells nicer after it rains."

and she drew up short and thought — well, yes, it does, doesn't it. it does smell nicer after it rains. like something nowhere else. a certain kind of sadness; a certain kind of hope.

[hardygalwrites]

Originally posted to FFN a little after the 26th of December, 2016

Simply archiving a writing challenge I did back in 2016 up to 2017 and featuring my favourite writing pieces from each week of the challenge here on Tumblr :]

← Week 19 (KO) – Week 21 (BB) →

Cartoon: Transformers Prime / Robots in Disguise 2015

Characters: Smokescreen, Knock Out, and Bumblebee, with appearances from numerous other characters (even ones not featured in the cartoons)

Synopsis: An Autobot Elite Guard rookie, a Decepticon medic turned Autobot, and an Autobot scout turned warrior turned street cop - three very different bots with a wide range of stories to tell. And we are going to spend the next year exploring said stories through daily-written drabbles, be they angsty, humorous, gut-punching, or just plain odd! Who doesn’t love a challenge? (2016 to 2017)

—

The Mech in the Box

As he stared at the body, he noticed that he was venting heavily, despite the fact that it had taken surprisingly little effort to dispose of this one. He shook himself and retracted his buzzsaws.

"Get a hold of yourself," he growled.

He took the body and shoved it alongside the others - a long line of limp frames that looked exactly like him. But they weren't him, he was positive of that. They were just clones. He was the original.

"I'm the original..." He glared at the latest clone and spoke again, in a stronger voice. "Do you hear me? I'm the original!"

Tell Me More

Knock Out skidded to a stop and transformed, taking a quick glance behind him. He chuckled.

"Even after all this time and with your own team to back you up, you're still no match for my horsepower, Bumblebee."

"From this I gather you're well acquainted with the lieutenant," said a smooth voice.

Buzzsaws activated within an instant, Knock Out spun around and glared into the darkness of the surrounding forest.

"Calm down. I'm a friend." A wolf-bot emerged from the darkness, a benign smile on his faceplates. "If you don't mind, I'd love to hear more about how you know the lieutenant."

Primus, I Hate You

"Smokescreen has apparently decided to take five." Knock Out approached his original lab rat with a smile. "Looks like it's just you and me again."

"Knock Out... Release me," CyLAS pleaded weakly. "You- you have the Autobot. You don't.... need me."

"Ah, but you have so many novelties the Autobot doesn't," Knock Out said pleasantly, preparing a syringe. "Your techno-organic nature is something I have yet to finish dissecting, and quite frankly, I despise you just a bit more than I despise him. I won't say it's nothing personal..." He stabbed the syringe into CyLAS's arm. "...because it so most certainly is."

[an-annyeoing-writer]

Maybe I should make a new masterlist?

It didn't make much sense at the beginning, but I'm tempted to make separate masterlists by group and then divide the post by members to make it clearer for people looking for specific stuff.

What do you think?

[soysaucevictim]

I just came here to tell you how good you write characters. You do a really good job at making the characters feel like real people. I take inspiration from that because I've always loved stories that make the characters seem like real people and make you want to know them more personally. Some of your fics have hit close to me and I feel like that's a good thing for any writer. If you ever do write your own story (a novel or anything like that) I would love for you to @me because I would love to read it. Keep up the good work. I know you've been going through some rough times and I hope things get better. Remember to drink water, have some food and don't push yourself too much. Take care!

Aww, I really do appreciate the kind words. While I know it’s important to stoke and nurture intrinsic motivation for creativity - the extrinsic stuff is a nice bonus, for sure.

It may be quite some time before I pursue my own original projects. But if the line’s still there - wouldn’t mind hitting you up on those.

But I’m glad that you think I do alright with characterization work.

I think it’s probably from a place of “wanting to understand the character often means acknowledging their messiness.” So, I generally don’t aim to flag anything as un/symp!Sides (or black and white) outright - and I think it helps.

Well wishes on back!

[catboii]

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