#the rest of these tags are from whenever the original draft was made:

[dropthecop]

the worst thing about cybertrucks (aside from all the other Worst Things about cybertrucks) is the fact that the name "cybertruck" is so charming, specifically in that it would be the name of a not-street-legal vehicle created out of spare parts by a scrappy gang of friends in an apocalyptic cyberpunk future. but instead of being that, the fun name got wasted on this stupid thing

[wonysugar]

wonder why i’m bitter | julie han

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. casual — chappell roan

synopsis : friends don’t act like this, you would know that better than anyone else.

pairing : non-idol!julie x fem!reader

genre : smut, angst, smutty angst, if you will! heavy on the angst though sorry.

tags : they were roommates,,, making out, marking, implied possessiveness, implied jealousy, anal rimming (heyyy), strap-on sex, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, julie is bent ova, and YESS WHO SAID BACKSHOTS, arguing, topsub!femreader, bottomdom!julie, frequent mentions of sexuality, praise kink, cheating?? could you call this cheating,, one singular l-bomb,,, yikesss

warnings : none..? i guess apart from the obvious content warnings here (angst and smut) there’s some underlying internal homophobia themes?? but i don’t think it’s that bad tbh IDK BE WARNED JUST IN CASE

word count : 3,1k

a/n : haiii!! i’m finally posting this draft OUHH it went through so many changes, like for example THE TITLEE?? i was gonna make the title be a lyric to ‘goodluck, babe!’ by chappell roan since i originally based the fic on that but i ended up listening to casual instead and went woaahh,, this fits so much more what the hell?!? but yeahh i think i’m happy with how it turned out! :’) i hope you guys can say the sameedckem

ALSO! first time writing anything involving anal,, while yes i do talk about it often (ahem we all know,,) i was incredibly nervous in the process and this definitely made me step out of my comfort zone, hope it isn’t too apparent in this ;; but yeah, to stop rambling, thank you for reading!! i hope you like itt! :]]

“so…” julie’s friend makes a motion between the two of you with a raised eyebrow, wearing a curious smile. “what exactly are you two?” they ask. you thought about it for a few moments, theoretically, you two are roommates, friends at most. but, if anything, you’re more like a couple behind closed doors. 

you shrug, thinking nothing of it, “i guess we’re kind of like—“

“we’re just friends.” she places, wearing a polite smile at the familiar in front of her before you could even think about the rest of your sentence. when you turn to look at her, she’s avoiding your gaze, already familiar with the type of expression you’re wearing. 

it’s the face you always make when she pushes you away like this.

turning back to her friend, you nod slightly, “yeah. we’re friends.” trying your hardest not to let your dejection show through your smile. 

maybe it’s all just in your imagination, perhaps you guys were never even close to being a ‘thing’ and you were the one who thought too much into it. but alas; no matter from which angle you looked at it, the way she displayed any ounce of affection towards you would always make you overthink what you two were exactly. anything she’d do in the comfort of your own apartment with you was never close to anything she’d do in public, in front of the eyes of everyone walking by. she always acts like she barely knows you whenever she is surrounded by people, whether she knows them or not.

you think about it often.

you think about her often.

you asked yourself, do you even like her like that? well, she’s pretty chill, smart, witty and funny. she’s also beautiful, and one hell of a tease, that much is obvious, you’ve had sex with her numerous times in the past, so sexual attraction is out of the question; you already knew the answer to that. the better question probably was; does she even like you like that?

“you done with them?” says julie, referring to the pile of kitchenware you guys left from last night on the counter as she hugs you from behind and rests her head on your shoulder, her arms wrapping all around your waist and watching you. you, on the other hand, were taken by surprise by the sudden display of affection, so much so that you lost your original train of thought. as much as you knew that she liked physical touch, it always did surprise you whenever you randomly felt her skin come in contact with yours throughout the day. getting quickly accustomed to the feeling of her lips kissing your shoulder, you hummed in response, washing and scrubbing the plate with the soaped-up sponge you were holding.

“almost.” 

she whines in an exaggerated manner, “hurry uppp..” lightly tapping on your stomach and resting her head on your shoulder, before adding, “i miss you.”

you giggle, putting away the plate you were now done washing, quickly grabbing another dirty one, “i’m right here, though?”

“no like,” she left another kiss on your shoulder, “i miss you.” 

you smirked, getting progressively more and more amused by the girl’s foreign, yet familiar behavior towards you, feeling her embrace you even tighter.

“oh yeah? well in that case, i miss you too, julie.”

you knew exactly what the girl in question meant by ‘i miss you’ and you would’ve teased her further if it weren’t for how impatient she was getting, despite how cute it was. her heavily annoyed sighs giving it away, despite those also being sprinkled with a tiny bit of humor. 

“come onn, don’t play dumb with me, smartass.”

so, you pushed the oblivious act aside and obliged, setting the plate down before facing her.

your lips danced in sync with hers as you carried her to your bed. once you got there, you gently sat her down on the edge of the mattress, lips still intertwined whilst her hands glided along the curves of your body, tracing circles with the tip of her index finger on your soft skin. 

you didn’t waste any time in laying her down moments later,, your mouth now eagerly roaming her neck and collarbone and leaving kisses down along her body, successfully marking it up. listening to her quiet hums, you proceeded to slide down her sweatpants, your hands tugging on the waistband.

now left in only her panties, you allowed your fingers to glide over the damp spot in between her legs, teasing the clothed entrance and taking in all of her reactions all at once. 

looking at you through the light brown hair that fell perfectly on her face with hooded eyes and slightly upturned eyebrows, she whispered in a low, husky and raspy tone, “see, baby? see how wet i am for you?”

now, julie had this certain ability to turn even the most confident person alive on this earth into a nervous wreck.

you were, obviously, no exception from her spells. if anything, you, y/n, were a prime example.

you slowly nodded at her words, entranced, feeling yourself fall more and more at her mercy with each second that passed. that earned a smirk from her, putting her hand atop yours, before continuing, “you’re gonna be good and do something about it, right?” 

you nodded once again, this time more eager. 

“words, darling.” she whispered.

“yes,” you muttered in response, a mix of nervousness and eagerness taking over all five of your senses, “o-of course i will.”

she hummed, perfectly content with your adorable answer, before pulling you back into a hungry kiss for another long, pleasant while. that is, until she added something else between kisses, something that made you shudder.

“get the strap.” 

immediately reaching for the drawer next to your bed upon hearing those words, lips still connected to hers, you obeyed and pulled the cabinet open, quickly pulling out the phallic silicone object residing in it as well as the harness, too impatient to feel even embarrassed about the sudden action. 

it didn’t take long before the harness was tight around your hips, the brunette bent over in front of you at the edge of the bed with her panties pulled down to her thighs. you ravished in the sight; her perfect pink pussy sitting before you, slick and wet with desire, begging for you to finally please it properly, practically throbbing in anticipation. who were you to deny her of such pleasure? 

you traced your index finger along her slit, your digit comfortably nestled in between her slippery folds as it slowly teased the entrance. 

rewarded by the sweet sounds coming out of her, you wasted no more time and slowly leaned into her core, giving a long swipe of the tongue to her pussy.

“ohh shitt..” overhearing her moans, you smiled against her as you were now making out with her swollen cunt, intending to taste every drop of her slick, not wasting a single one. your lips circled around her bundle of nerves, giving it small and gentle sucks whilst one of your hands massaged her ass.

subconsciously, julie’s back arched with each movement that your tongue made inside her, her head hung low on the bed as she whimpered filthy praises, her sounds just slightly muffled from the white bedsheet she had over her mouth. 

you heard them, though. 

thank god you heard them.

after a long while of giving more than endless attention to her pussy, you felt your mouth move upwards by itself, driven by the pure desire to make her feel even better than she already was. 

your tongue quickly made its way to her ass, roaming and dancing around her rim, which immediately earned a sharp gasp from her part. you’ve never made it a habit to eat julie’s ass, but whenever you did? it was always enough to cloud your brain with pure, raw want, and it always seemed to catch her pleasantly off-guard, since you’d always do it without any warning. 

you attempted to relax her again by tracing slow circles around her hole with your muscle, before inserting it fully, which you could only assume worked, since you could hear her whines get longer and louder. “fuckk yes baby..” she shamelessly moaned, this time more audibly due to her raising her head up and looking back at you as best as she possibly could, “that’s it, such a sweet girl for me— ah..“ 

using one of your hands, you made sure to thoroughly stimulate her clit, rubbing circles around it and even going as far as to inserting two fingers inside her dripping cunt with your other hand in the process, all whilst the muscle in your mouth flicked way within her, drilling and wriggling as you hummed against her. 

after what felt like hours of you messily rimming her, hours of her pushing herself further onto your mouth, practically fucking herself on you, you figured it was finally time to give her what’d she been wanting ever since she came up behind you in the kitchen.

pulling your fingers out and standing back up, you lined up your strap-on to her aching core, pressing the head against it before slowly inserting its entire length inside of her. 

she let out a groan at the feeling of being penetrated, which progressively turned into longer and more suggestive sounds. it all sounded like music to your ears, it only made you want to please her more.

you reached for her hand, grabbing it upon contact. she squeezed yours with just as much force in return, pleasure visibly taking over her senses. it didn’t take long for you to be full on thrusting into her, either, feeling her walls clench around your fake cock as she babbled praises. 

it was a small gesture, sure, but it made you feel things you weren’t quite certain on how to label.

“such a good girl for me—“ was what she let out, a loud moan escaping her agape mouth whilst you continued pounding her, faster with each second that passed. “f-fuck y/n i love you—“

you saw her lose herself under you, you watched in… admiration? infatuation? whatever it was, you thought she looked mesmerizing, especially with how her brown long hair fell all over the place, how perfect she sounded, how perfect she looked.

how perfect she was.

the words “i love you” resonated in your head. 

“who’s eric?” you ask her, having thrown glances at her phone that was charging on the kitchen counter whilst washing a plate, the singular one you had left untouched due to being… distracted. 

you finished washing it, then turned around, now met with a surprised julie, clothed in a pair of booty shorts and a white tank top, she was fresh out of the shower, towel drying her hair. that is, until she unexpectedly heard you speak that name, her eyes immediately darting between you and the phone, greeted by that man’s contact name and picture on the latter, an incoming phone call from his part. 

“a guy?” she says back, in her usual sarcastic yet gentle and quiet tone, “thought that was obvious enough—“

jealousy and inexplicable possessiveness flooded your senses; you knew most of her friends, but, you had no idea who this ‘eric’ dude was, and that especially ate at you. why was he calling her, on a random weekday at like, 4 pm? you had checked the clock hanging on the wall to confirm the time.

“well yeah but, i don’t think i know an eric.” you stated, wary of what the girl before you was gonna say, “who is he?”

“…i just told you, some dude. i met him on campus and we just exchanged contacts after he complimented me, a while ago.” she replied, slight annoyance cracking through the facade of the joking expression she wore. she ran her dominant hand through her messy and wet hair, causing it to fall back perfectly on the side of her face and her exposed shoulders. 

she added, “sure, he makes it very clear he wants to hook up with me, but that’s all it’ll ever be i think, he’s not the type of guy you’d wanna date seriously. why do you ask—“ 

“no reason.” you cut her off, cold and dry.

she furrowed her eyebrows, the previous annoyance being more and more apparent, this time only paired with confusion. “…what?” 

“so this is completely normal for you? like, you guys hook up and call each other sometimes and you’re just casually telling me about it? what, does he take you out on dates too?” 

“what are you, my girlfriend or something?” she scoffed, bitter and defensive, gently throwing the towel on the couch in close proximity to her, “and what if he does, why’s it such a big deal to you?” 

why is it such a big deal to me?

why is it such a big deal to me?

and before you know it, you’re quickly matching her tone. “i simply don’t understand how you could tell me something so casually, especially right after we—“

“listen, let’s get this straight.” she says to you, “i know that just because you and i fuck sometimes you’re convinced that it’s gotta mean something, that we’re something, but we aren’t. it doesn’t fucking mean shit to either of us and you know that very well. it’s all in good fun; i don’t belong to you, y/n, and i never will.” 

“it’s not about that?” you walked closer to her as you justified, trying to get your point across, “i’m not saying that you belong to me julie i’m just trying to say that—“

her stare pierces right through you as she cuts you off, and you could’ve sworn you noticed her eyes being glossy. her eyebrows furrowed in anger at you, she added on, “who i date isn’t your business. we’re just friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be, end of discussion. don’t try to turn our friendship into something it isn’t.” 

friends?

“so now i’m the crazy one for not liking the fact that you’re talking to that dude?” you eventually yelled back. you didn’t even notice her grabbing her things as you talked, ready to head out, despite her hair still being wet from the recent shower. you, however, noticed how she took her still ringing phone and put on her favorite puffy jacket, her soft hand’s acrylic nails digging and clutching onto the mentioned cellular device as you rambled on and on, irritated beyond comprehension. 

“we’re not fucking dating y/n, it’s all casual, i.. i’m not even into girls like that—” she asserted herself, trying her absolute hardest to sound as convincing as possible. you heard it, though, you heard that little twinge of doubt and guilt in her voice. it’s almost like she, herself, didn’t believe whatever nonsense was coming out of her mouth. 

how funny was it to watch her say that all whilst having the fresh hickeys you left on her neck and collarbone not even a few hours ago?

perhaps eric will notice them, too.

perhaps with that, he’ll realize how good you treat her, how he’ll never be able to do it like you do.

how he’ll never be able to make her feel as good as you do.

“sure, you aren’t.” you scoffed at her words, before proceeding to add on, “since you swear you aren’t, how about you stop acting like you are? you know, instead of giving me shit for getting upset.” 

“sorry?—“ she laughed bitterly, those words cut deep.

let me talk, you thought, let me place a damn word.

you continued, “no, seriously! you always do this julie, you always make me feel like i’m fucking insane for seeing it the way it is, for the way i see us. you’re convinced that there’s nothing between us, that we’re just friends, yet friends don’t randomly kiss me throughout the day for whatever reason, do they? they don’t fuck me and tell me that they love me in the process, do they?” as you spoke, she avoided your gaze and walked right past you, heading straight for the front door.

that’s when you recalled a certain moment, “sure, why not, let’s say, for your sake, that completely normal friends do fuck sometimes; they don’t buy you stupid lovey-dovey bullshit on valentine’s day and drive you to the middle of nowhere to stargaze, they do not take you out at night and take every opportunity to kiss you in public whenever nobody’s looking, they don’t fucking say they love you while you’re deep inside them— i mean for fuck’s sake julie do you hear yourself??”

she stopped in her tracks in front of the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. she hates it when you read her like a book, she hates it when you call her out on being the way she acts with you, she hates it when you stare at her like that— she fucking hates you. she fucking hates you for making her feel the way she does, for making her question everything about herself, she hates herself for thinking about you whenever she’s with him—

she let out a noise, something in between a sob and a laugh, before looking back at you with tear-filled eyes, she stared at you, up and down. her eyebrows twitching slightly, she then set her eyes on the ground and bit her lip in what seems to be frustration, frustration aimed both at you and herself.

“if i knew it was gonna be like this, i would’ve never done anything with you to begin with.” her voice was shaky.

you watched her figure as she turned the doorknob and slammed the door on you, with a loud clack. just like that, the apartment was empty, silent and once again, peaceful.

she’d be back, of course, whether she decides to sleep somewhere else and come back the next day or sneak back in here in the middle of the night on this same day, she always comes back after a fight. still, despite knowing that, you couldn’t help but feel like drowning in your own guilt, as this argument wasn’t like any other other. her pained expression still vivid in your memory and terrorizing you, you were afraid that you might never see her again after that.

that was pure dramatization, however.

the only thing that occupied the deafening silence of the room was the muffled sound of julie sniffling and being on the phone with who you assumed to be that boy, already planning to meet up. then, you could’ve sworn you heard the name “eric?” being pronounced as it progressively faded in the distance as she walked away, basically confirming your theory. 

that’s all that filled your house and your clouded mind.

that, and the sound of your pathetic sobbing.

[trishmishtree]

do you have a pattern for that black edwardian-esque shirtdress you made?

Hey all. So one of my sewing posts has gotten a lot of unexpected traffic in the past day. Whenever this happens, it's usually because the tumblr algorithm is pushing the post onto the dash of anyone who follows the sewing tag. So for everyone who is sick of the dress in question assaulting your dash for absolutely no reason, I am so sorry.

@curiouscalembour

Short answer: yes, scroll down to the photos below

Longer answer: kind of, not really, I mean I have a pattern but it comes with no instructions and you're going to enjoy it about as much as most people enjoy scaling up Patterns of Fashion patterns, maybe even less. Also, this is not a tutorial, just an approximate recounting of what I did. So, uh, good luck.

So here's the thing. I don't use commercial patterns because they often have me finishing seams with a serger which I don't own, or constructing garments with the modern bag-lining method which just breaks my brain. I'm also not a professional pattern maker and have no idea how to digitize patterns, so I do all my drafting with good old-fashioned pen and Christmas wrapping paper. I'm also entirely self-taught and learned everything I know about pattern alterations through osmosis from TheClosetHistorian's videos, so I don't know if anything I'm doing here is industry-standard.

I got the original base pattern by tracing a modern button-down shirt that already fits me, and then converting it to be back-closing, then slashing and spreading the pattern pieces to get the desired style lines and amount of pintuck/floof I wanted, and then adjusting the fit over a series of wearable mockups. (5, to be exact. I now have 5 of these things in my wardrobe, and only 1.5 of them are successful.)

So here's^ the yoke piece. Wait, why are there 3 of them? Why do 2 of the pieces have a weird diagonal line running through them with the grid lines all messed up? Because I suck at this, that's why. I frankensteined this pattern from a previous mockup pattern that had a narrower V-shaped yoke and needed to widen it. If you want to digitize this for yourself and clean it up, you'll have to take one of the faint blue squares (they're 1"x1") and make a grid and then overlay that on top of the photo of the pattern shape. The back yoke piece has 2 different grainlines marked because the fashion fabric has a bias pintucked yoke, so its grainline is going to be different from the lining. The fashion fabric is meant to be pintucked beforehand, and then the pattern pieces traced on top of the pintucked panel and then cut out. Oh, and all of these pieces are drawn net, so you'll need to add seam allowance all around. Except at the center back, apparently, where past-Me already added allowance for a bound edge.

The bodice front and back pieces^ are a little more straightforward. No pintucks needed here. The upper edges ease into the bottom edge of the yoke, and the bottom edges gather/tuck down into the waistband. The center front tucks you'll have to drape on a dress form (or on yourself - I pinned a strip of twill tape which was my skirt waistband around my waist and then pinned the excess front bodice fabric onto the twill tape, then covered the raw edges with a dip-waist belt). The center back is a lot shorter than the rest of the bodice because I have a swayback. I learned from a previous mockup that if I leave the back of the bodice longer, I have to constantly tug my shirttails back down into my skirt because it gradually gets untucked throughout the day. These pieces also need seam allowances added. I assembled my bodice by sandwiching the bodice front and back pieces between the fashion and lining layers of my yoke pieces, but it was a bit bulky dealing with the folded back pintucked parts of the yoke seam allowances, so you can finish your seams however you want.

I'm fairly short-waisted, so if you have a longer torso than mine, then you'll want to lengthen the pieces vertically. You want these pieces to be longer than your torso, so that they poof out a little like a subtle muffin top, to get that Edwardian silhouette where the waist looks tiny under the poof:

Here's^ part of the sleeve pattern. Again, sorry it's a chaotic mess. I had to use bits of scrap paper and cobble the pattern together. The pattern above is just the upper arm part of the sleeve and ends at the elbow. You'll have to extend about 10" all along the bottom edge to make the smocked part that covers the forearms. I only sewed the sleeve seams closed down to the elbow, then left the seam open from the elbow down to the wrist, so that it closed with rows and rows of buttons and loops. The smocking will give the lower sleeves a bit of stretch, so you might still be able to get your hand through even without the button closure.

This is also a net pattern so you should add seam allowances, but the sleeve is ridiculously puffy already, so forgetting the seam allowances here isn't a big deal.

(I call it my Elphaba shirtdress but it's not an actual replica of anything she wears in the movie. If you want your sleeve to look more like Elphaba's, which is puffy at the shoulders and elbows and fitted around her biceps and forearms, you can change where you add your rows of gathering/shirring.)

And finally, the collar piece. I'm not completely satisfied with how mine gapes at the center front (I think I need to contour/curve it a bit so that the top edge is narrower than the bottom edge), and I think the whole thing could be another inch taller all around, but this is the pattern piece I used to get my finished product. Notice that the back half of the collar slowly curves downward so that the center back is about 1/2" longer than the center front. That's on purpose. If you leave this little detail out, your collar will tilt backwards and make you feel like the front is trying to strangle you.

And because I'm nothing if not inconsistent, this piece features hem allowance already added to the top edge, but no seam allowance pre-added to the bottom edge where it attaches to my bodice yoke, and no allowance for overlap for the center back closure. So be very careful when making and marking your own copy and maybe be a little more consistent than I am?

Speaking of inconsistencies, remember how I drafted my yoke pieces to be cut from an already pre-pintucked panel of fashion fabric? Well, I didn't do that here for the collar. Instead, this collar piece is meant to be cut (on the fold) directly from flat fabric, and THEN pintucked (with lines of vertical pintucking perpendicular to the collar) after cutting. The pintucks are 1/4" deep, spaced 1/4" apart. So the pattern piece you cut out will pleat down to half its original length.

So this:

Becomes this:

Also, note on the pattern piece that I drew a horizontal line across the entire length, running parallel to and about 1.25" below the top edge? That's the point at which your pintucks stop. This gives the collar that ruffle you see at the top.

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

[INTRODUCTION]

WELCOME TO TRANSFORMERS: BOLD BRIGHT BRISK!

So, since I was super indecisive about which side-plot I wanted to focus on the most, I just made two extra. Yes, all three sideplot story stuff will be posted on this blog.

They all coincide with each other in some way, some events will happen before one sideplot’s events, and others will happen after one other sideplot’s events, so on and so forth.

[TF Media Referenced]

- Rescue Bots Academy

- Rescue Bots

- Transformers Prime

- Robots In Disguise

- Cyberverse

- Last Bot Standing

- More Than Meets The Eye

- Lost Light

- Literally any other miscellaneous information I find on TF Wiki that I insert to fill a couple plot-holes, but aren’t significant enough for me to completely take inspiration from that specific medium

[Overview]

- The war was over between Autobots and Decepticons, and afterwards it was a big celebration while the rebuilding of Cybertron took place. Years after the reconstruction of Cybertron, and it’s newly revised government, there are now many more individual situations that have arisen from the aftermath.

[Asks]

1) Can Accept ✅

- Asks about the lore and characters are very much appreciated!

- I’m also open to do some small sketch requests that pertain to the characters in my Fan Continuity, and characters that are in it but aren’t explicitly mentioned.

- I might answer a few questions with a doodle if I really feel like it, but rest assured I won’t be able to do all of them.

- Oh, don’t worry if your ask sounds a bit “spoilery” I’ll let you know.

2) Won’t Accept ❌

- Sorry, this blog isn’t for role playing with the characters.

- Also any asks that have links to anything without a description or just look sketchy in general, your ask will get deleted.

- Absolutely under no circumstances will I answer any creepy asks like NSFW or anything 18+, it’s just gross to me.

- No bigotry, racism, sexism, or any kind of LGBTQIA+phobia at all in my ask box.

[Tagging]

#sphny speaks (𖦹<𖦹)•*°⊹

- Any and all rambles, reviews, drabbles, or small updates to keep people informed of any “delays” or just small brain farts that happen throughout my day.

#sphny alternates universe (𖦹ㅁ𖦹)•*°⊹

- Whenever I just start to ramble and just start grabbing random info from other TF franchise continuities and alternate them into my universe without a second thought(or many thoughts, depending…)

#sphny arts (𖦹w𖦹)•*°⊹

- Any and all art I make and post, whether it’d be just a draft, concept art, or art dumps that I draw to support my stories.

#sphny reblogs (𖦹Q𖦹)•*°⊹

- On this blog especially, I would usually reblog something from my main, or just self-reblog from my early works, and maybe occasionally something neat I would to add to my blog later on so I don’t forget.

#sphny answers (𖦹0 𖦹)•*°⊹

- Along with asks, I’ll be tagging anything I’ve answered under this tag, just for consistency’s sake.

#sphny originates character (𖦹▿𖦹)•*°⊹

- This rarely ever happens, but on occasion if I were to make an original character I’d make sure to tag it under this so I can be able to track it down easier.

[heliopauseentertainments]

1,6, and 15 for Reforged?

Reblog if you are a fanfiction author and would like your readers to put one of your fic titles in your ask + questions about it

Fic Context: Reforged

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Originally, for the fic overall, I was inspired by a post by... I think their handle was squid-in-disguise (but I can't find the original post anymore and the ship-centered blog I reblogged it from almost 2 years ago apparently deleted). When I finish and type the final promo post, I'm going to try and tag them if I can verify OP's handle.

It was a fairly general prompt for if Rodimus visited Caminus and was hailed as a deity. I definitely took it in a different direction than was originally asked for. The original idea had "Megatron had secretly been in love with Rodimus the entire time" and I didn't lean into that as much.

I also went way deeper into Camien religion and history than I think anyone asked for, because I think that's interesting.

I also got to draw parallels with the Original Thirteen (from both IDW and Aligned). Added three drops of my experience with Judaism, threw the whole thing in the blender, and BAM.

TL;DR: I saw a post with an idea and no one stopped me. This is how many of my fics happen.

The rest of the answers are under the cut for length

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

We'll take away the sheer length, which far outstrips my other works.

This fic is special/different because:

It gets the most interaction and attention than all of my other fics combined. Something about it resonated with readers and this makes me very proud. I consider myself a very obscure fic author, so I was surprised that anyone even looked at it.

I started writing it on the tail-end of MegaRod being a popular-ish ship. I walked in right when content basically stopped being made (or at least incredibly slowed down to me and two or so other people that I know of). It was just a weird time to get into the ship, which is now almost a rarepair, but especially a weird time to drop a massive novel for it. This ties into the previous point: I'm surprised anyone looked at it.

It's my longest running writing project ever from starting to completion. (I've got up to chapter 98 drafted and only a few chapters after that left to go). Compare that to The Hollow Man, a novella that I slapped out in a month.

It's probably my most obvious example of "canon blending" right now. It's predominantly IDW1, but it's full of both subtle and blatant AU changes, on top of cannibalizing bits and pieces from other continuities, most noticeably Aligned.

It's the first piece I've had that got companion pieces, other little fics set in the same universe or bonus scenes.

It's the only fic of mine that my spouse threatens to write a crack/unhinged version of. For example: trials being based on the Great British Bake-Off

I'm sure there's more but that's what I've got atm.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

Novels are hard. Don't write them. I like to think I'm a one-shot and novella specialist, so 40k+ word beasties are not my normal wheelhouse. Some people are best at novels specifically! I do not think I am one of them! Now watch me put my foot in my mouth for Solar Flare.

If you do write one, give yourself a word count and/or a chapter cap. Do not accidentally write something longer than Lord of the Rings (the novel, not the trilogy, but maybe don't write something the length of a trilogy either).

Your brain will sometimes build in foreshadowing for you. Convenient and terrible all at once!

Characters will sometimes provide a story path that you did not plan for. Sometimes this is good! Sometimes this can get away from you and you're at a runaway word count again.

Outlines can be helpful to keep your plot from wandering too far off. I had a very rough outline for this fic of what I needed to hit and whenever something veered too far off, I had something tether it to rather than completely losing the thread. This doesn't work for everyone.

[wutheringmights]

I just read the newest chapter and I loved it! ♥ ♥ ♥ I was wondering if you had some hcs about the engineer that you could share?

Awww I'm glad you like it! I just spent 5 minutes trying to figure out what "HCS" meant before realizing I'm a tired idiot who can't read lol

But yeah! I got some headcanons for the engineer/Spirits I can share!

These headcanons are a mix of things I generally believe for any iteration of the Hero of Spirits and a few things exclusive to CTB. It's pretty obvious which are which.

Technically this is slight spoilers since most of this is not mentioned in-story, but Warriors is a such a self-centered asshole that I'm not sure when I can get him to explicitly ask about Spirit's backstory lol

This got super long and kind of just became me talking about Spirits's entire backstory, so enjoy:

Spirits is sixteen during the course of Spirit Tracks, mostly because that was the vibe I got from him when I first played the game (I made him younger for CTB)

He's not descendant from Wind (who I maintain disappeared instead of settling in New Hyrule); instead, he's Aryll's great grandson

His family name used to be Outset, but when everyone who originally immigrated from Outset island took on that last name, they changed it to Aryll to reflect the family matriarch

So Spirit's full name is Link Aryll, though there is a branch of his family that uses Macaryll instead

The Aryll/Macaryll family is huge; everyone has at least six aunts and uncles on all sides of the family and they can trace back how they are related to Aryll

"I'm Grandma Aryl's third son's second daughter's fifth child." -someone Spirits is related to, probably

He actually never met his great grandmother; she died before he was born.

Spirit's dad was full-blooded Lokomo while his mother was Hylian; his mother passed a few months after he was born after never truly recovering from childbirth while his father died in a fishing accident when he was eight

He went to live with an aunt and uncle who owned a general store; their relationship was polite at best. The aunt and uncle told Spirits upfront that they intended to give the store over to his cousin when he was older so Spirits needed to come up with his own life plan

Spirits didn't necessarily mind since he never wanted to work in a store for the rest of his life, but the ultimatum made it clear that they didn't care for him like a son

To this day, their relationship isn't strained and he doesn't hate them. But whenever they meet, he's overly polite; they're more acquaintances than family

He's cool with his cousin though. They have different interests so they aren't best friends, but they're okay.

Spirits also always had his spirit-sensing abilities. It's really like a sixth sense to him, as normal and automatic as seeing and hearing; he actually didn't realize this wasn't normal until he was a little older

His abilities at this point are limited to sensing vague ideas of a person's spirit (if they're light or dark, etc.), and seeing ghosts (which are really rare. You have to have a lot of power yourself to become one)

(Note: I'm not the only one who headcanons Spirits as having spirit sensing abilities; if you know who can up with the idea, please let me know so that I can tag/credit them!)

The elder of his village told him that select Lokomo had minor spirit sensing abilities, and those who did were traditionally made elders of their villages; being more of a follower than a leader, Spirits adamantly dismissed that idea and refused to be trained on how to hone his spirit senses. He also never learned any of the religion behind it

Which was a little worrisome since his abilities are way stronger than most

Besides, he's always liked trains and it's been his dream to travel around the kingdom as an engineer; being some town's elder would get in the way of that

Anyway, Spirits had to pass a written exam before being accepted as an apprentice engineer, so he's very studious and has a lot of drive (pun unintended?)

He went to live with his Uncle Niko during his apprenticeship in another town; Niko isn't related to him, but he's been a friend of the family for so long that everyone secretly thinks he's actually related to someone and they just forgot who

Niko is his real family, hands down. Those two are as thick as thieves and bring out the wild side in each other

A preteen Spirits used to think Niko was a little lame and kind of embarrassing, but now that he's older, he's all for Niko's weird old man-ness and has even picked up on some of his weird old man-ness himself

That being said, they're both disasters. Neither can clean or cook or do any kind of housekeeping and their shared house is cluttered with Niko's art projects and Spirit's half-finished tinkering

Growing up, Spirits had no idea he was related to the legendary Hero of Wind; Aryll died before he was born, but even in life she was filled with too much grief over her missing brother to discuss it often. Within the family, being related to the Hero of Wind is a rumor at best.

Of course, Niko knows but keeps it a secret from Spirits; once he got back from his LU-adventure, Wind told Niko about the curse of the Hero's Spirit. Then he went missing post-New Hyrule's founding, which really drove the terror of the curse home. Niko thought he could keep Wind's family from falling victim to it by not inadvertently encouraging them to follow in Wind's footsteps

So Niko kept it a secret

And obviously, that didn't work

Spirits' quest to save New Hyrule resulted in him realizing that he needed to embrace his Lokomo heritage and get a handle on his spirit powers; Anjean gave him a little training during his quest but afterwards he traveled around the kingdom to find as many people as he could with abilities like his

They were all really excited to teach him what they knew, especially the religious aspects of the abilities; Spirits is still not the most religious person, but he at least understands and embraces the cultural significance of what he is able to do

This is where he learned how to read a person's Spirit to get an idea of their life experiences and the kind of person they're like; he can also detect where a person is without having to put much effort into it

At Zelda's encouragement, he also got more sword training from the Castle Guard. She offered him a place among them, but he turned it down in favor of remaining an engineer. He still helps around as a swordsman when he can and will act as Zelda's body guard

Speaking of which, he and Zelda are 100% in love. Their relationship started out as puppy love but over the years as matured into a deep connection built on mutual respect

When he's working on designing new engines or parts for his trains, he occasionally brings his drafting materials to the castle gardens so that he can work alongside Zelda; sometimes she falls asleep leaning against his arm and he has to be careful not to shake her awake as he works

Whenever she need to go anywhere in the kingdom, she rides in his train and teasingly criticizes his conducting; he takes a lot of pride in his conducting, but he lets her get away with it since her critiques are objectively hilarious

He keeps a tiny pictograph of her taped to his dashboard

But there's a bit of a problem with their relationship, and it's that he doesn't know if he wants to be the prince consort or not. He does love her, but that would mean giving up being an engineer in favor of being stuck at the castle all of the time

Plus, he's doing great as an engineer; he's saving up to open his own garage that produces his own train designs

Eventually, he leaves for the War of Eras

His experiences with Warriors leaves him more sure than ever that he doesn't want to be the prince consort, resulting in him ending his relationship with Zelda shortly after he returns home

It hurts for a long time to be around her since all of his old feelings keep coming back, so he keeps his distance for a long time; it takes a few years for him to go back to hanging out with Zelda as friends

But now she's approaching marriage age, and he spends a lot of time when he's on body guard duty super jealous of these princes and ambassadors from foreign kingdoms who try to court her

But again, he knows he can't be in a relationship with her so he respectfully and silently pines over her (I'm just a sucker for pining, okay?)

Okay, more random headcanons that are a little less sad

Spirits likes super spicy food, but since he can't cook to save his own life, he just eats whatever he can get his hands on

He's super dirty all of the time, just the epitome of scrappy; there's always a smear of oil somewhere on his person

He actually really hates bathing and only keeps his curly hair in check to comply with train safety regulations

He's really polite and a little shy, but once he loosens up, he gets talkative and personable

He's also very contemplative; he likes conducting so much because he gets to spend long stretches of time alone with nothing but his thoughts

His trauma/stress response is to shut down; he goes quiet, loses energy, and sleeps for longer periods of time

He tends to gravitate towards socializing with people who are older than him, which gets him labeled as being no fun by his peers (despite having someone as cooky as Niko for a uncle)

Post-adventure, his best friend is Linebeck III. They're drinking buddies. Neither can really explain why they even like hanging out as much as they do

(I just like the idea of Linebeck accidentally getting attached to one kid and his whole bloodline getting forever tangled with Wind's; they're bros for multiple lifetimes)

Not only is Spirits good at designing and building new machinery, but he's great at tinkering; he can fix almost anything and will buy broken things on purpose just to have something to fix

No one really knows he's a hero; he doesn't like the attention and, at his request, Zelda did her best to keep his involvement with Malladus a secret

Because not many common people know about his adventure and records of New Hyrule are very rare, he's considered in Warrior's time to be a forgotten hero; some scholars believe that a Hero of Spirits may have once existed, but if he did, no one really knows who he was or what he did to serve the bloodline of Hylia

[atotsnetwork]

Hi everyone! atots week 2021 is a seven-day-long celebration for the two months anniversary of the finale and which coincides with ‘Ep 20’ of atots. We are planning themed days with different activities and we hope this will be fun and bring back memories of Pha pun dao for everyone.

The week will last from Friday 4 June to Friday 11 June (ep 20).

We’ll be tracking the hashtag #atotsweek2021 so be sure to include it in your first 5 tags before posting.

Day 1 (Friday 4 June): a tale of thousand creations

This is an invitation to share any of your original content! It can be a drabble, a fic, a gifset, a graphic, a single gif, fanart, fmv, a meta etc. You can create whenever you want, use something you’ve been working on for a while or which has been resting in your draft or just a snippet of a WIP! Your content is to be posted on Friday 11 June (ep20).

Here are some resources to help:

Prompt list

A chronological list of all phutian moments

Day 2 (Saturday 5 June): It’s very precious to me

What will stay with you forever from this already unforgettable show? Answer a few questions with a gif or screenshot and a few words with your opinion (optional).

What is your favorite shot from the series?

What is your favorite establishing shot/ credit shot/nature shot etc from the series?

What is the shot which encapsulates your favorite character the most?

What is the most underrated scene in your opinion?

Day 3 (Sunday 6 June): I just want to talk to you

Show love to our hornbills by answering a few questions with a gif or screenshot and a few words with your opinion(optional).

What is the phutian moment which made you lose your mind/created love for you?

What is the Phutian moment which made you the most emotional/cry?

What is the most underrated Phutian moment?

Day 4 (Monday 7 June) : They are more important than the home we shelter

Atots was full of scene stealers and on this day, we want to appreciate the supporting cast! Answer a few questions with a gif or screenshot and a few words with your opinion (optional).

Who is your favorite supporting character?

What is your favorite scene with your supporting character?

What is your overall favorite non phutian moment?

Day 5 (Tuesday 8 June): Take this place as your home

We get by with a little help from our friends! Day 5 is all about friendships. So answer a few questions with a gif or screenshot and a few words with your opinion (optional).

What is your favorite friendship from the show?

What is your favorite scene with your friendship?

What is the most underrated scene with your friendship

Day 6 (Wednesday 9 June): This? It’s my own 1000 stars journal to keep my memories here from now on

What has the show taught you? Answer a few questions with a gif or screenshot and a few words with your opinion(optional). You can choose to do any of the followings:

Favorite character / character you relate to the most?

What is your favorite quote from the series?

What is ne moment from the show that’ll stay with you forever?

Day 7 (Thursday 10 June): We will never be apart, indefinitely

The show has ended, but fandom is forever! Spread some love and appreciation in the fandom:

Name some of your favorite blogs/ fandom creators.

Link your favorite atots gifset, fanart or fmv

Link your favorite atots fics/meta/textpost/ etc

+ Daily Quiz:

In addition to the above themed days, there will be a daily quiz throughout the whole week. We’ll post the links daily and you’ll have to answer a few questions each day. The person with the highest total score will be declared the winner at the end of the week. The prize will be a gifset/icon or header according to the winner's request made by @ataleofthousandstars

On Friday, 11 June everyone will post the contents they made as announced in Day 1. You can also post it later if you want more time!

P.s. Everyone can complete any activity whenever they want, we’ll just post the rules daily. And you’re free to skip some days as well!

If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to send us and ask/dm on this blog. You can also contact @ataleofthousandstars and @systoles-lfc

[mysmorgasbordoffantabulosa]

thank you for insulting me, I'm not jk anti or wants a fight andy idiotic questions wasnt complete cause i'm using a translator to check that if my text understandable or not and i didn't notice that I just copy my drafts not the final text, in my language transltor write names wrong so I wrote "one and the other one" then strated to edit it but I didn't notice I copied the first draft. this is the whole text

" There is no single evidence of their closeness behind the cam. Every one of them is in a different world, Taehyung likes luxurious lifestyle ( wealthy friends, fancy restaurants, high-end clothing brands and accessories, golf, pricey liquor) , and Jungkook likes mediocre life, and all tkkrs try to convince themselves that they are hidden from the public while saying they are so loud. imo to be open about their sexuality and relationship in the Kpop industry it will be true if they do it so behind the camera, rather than in front of the cameras, where is the queerbaiting is the standard in the industry. Fan cams, are media as well."..

I was just trying to share my thoughts with someone and I'm sorry if my words were so tough to makes you considered I'm jk anti or want to fight that's because my English is bad and I don't know how to make my words nicer, I apologise to you...

Thank you for clarifying the situation, but you have to understand that as a Taekooker I sometimes get unpleasant and downright silly questions that no-one would ever answer. So when I read your ask, it did come across like that.

Now, I will also apologise if you felt insulted. As a courtesy I have deleted the original ask and my response. And before I respond to your thoughts on Taekook I have a suggestion... Now, I don't want to tell you how to post or ask in future, but if you're using a translator to help put your thoughts across, you may want to start off explaining that in someway, I've had other anon asks do the same and it helps stop things from getting misconstrued or mixed up.

Regarding your main points:

There is no single evidence of their closeness behind the cam.

So let's forget that they went:

On two private holidays/trips together (that we know of) without any other members or family?

Or that time when they had a meal together without security or managers in a restaurant at a high-end exclusive hotel, that you have to pre-book weeks in advance.

Or that they go to fortune tellers and dermatologist together.

Or that they know more about each other than the rest of the members, such as JK know Tae had a manicure

Or that whenever Tae or JK is asked a question about the other, members will change their answers if Tae or JK gives a different answer.

Or that JK stated in a VLive he was spend time alone in Tae room

Taehyung likes luxurious lifestyle / Jungkook likes mediocre life

In what way does Tae spend most of his life in a luxurious way? Or that JK lives a modest lifestyle...

Both of them are multi-millionaires who spend their money on luxury items and lifestyle, such as this:

JK allegedly owns this car, with a price tag USD: $161,200:

And if you think he modest then explain why he wore this:

Tae may like luxury brands but so what he has the money and it's his life. The only person he is supposedly close to is someone with a dad that is clearly enamoured of BTS (and high profil kpop idols in general), and clearly has a deal with BigHit to accomodate BTS where possible, so maybe just maybe it was business arrangement.

tkkrs try to convince themselves that they are hidden from the public while saying they are so loud.

No we don't, what some say is that BigHit will occasionally cut Taekook from content and focus on other ships. The argument some make is why, if K-Pop is partially driven by shipping, why is it one of the most popular ships in K-Pop (taekook), and the certainly most popular in BTS, isn't being given it's far due. Now some would say "but Taekook are not close" or just friends, but I'm sorry, Kpop companies generally don't care about that, and we've seen countless accounts of idols being forces to do shipping so that their companies can profit off them. Also, between 2013 and 2016 Taekook were everywhere whenever BTS was around doing stuff. Then 2017 to 2019 they disappeared from content, and the only time Taekook interacted was in concerts, awards shows, US promo tours, VLives etc.

Since 2020, things have changes and taekook are more able to interact than they've ever been. When we say loud we don't mean "oh my god they so shouting from the roof tops they are in love" it's about just being more obvious in their interactions, or Instagram posts.

to be open about their sexuality and relationship in the Kpop industry it will be true if they do it so behind the camera, rather than in front of the cameras, where is the queerbaiting is the standard in the industry. Fan cams, are media as well."..

And I have said that's the case, just go look at my posts, and it's one of the reasons why between 2017 and 2019 Taekook we less visible as a ship, because it was more behind the cameras (hell JK even said as much with his comment that Tae and his relationship is not for the cameras).

I'm not sure what you are saying in the second park, but yes queerbaiting does exist in the industry, but it's not just a K-Pop thing though, it's in all forms, KDramas do it too. But as a gay man I think I can differentiate when I'm being Queer baited and when I'm not, for example the "hickey" incident is clear queerbaiting, whenever EXO touch and grope each other on stage it's queerbaiting, whenever a shipped couple sing a vaguely romantic song together on stage it's queerbaiting. JK and Tae sharing pictures and parts of their lives without is not queerbaiting.

Final thoughts

I get you want to share your thoughts, but why do you want to do it with a Taekooker? You're not gonna change my mind anytime soon (I've seen enough to know who JK and Tae are). So what is it you want to get out by sharing your thoughts on Taekook with me?

[tyongf-nct]

johnny x reader - smut (1.2 k)

the original ask: can i request johnny beings so fed up getting teased by the reader then he fucked her in front of all the members pls 🥺 ?

~

ok so this is OLD and has been sitting in my drafts forever bc i actually wrote the whole thing and then lost all of my work. to the anon that sent that request forever ago i hope you see this 😪

dynamic: johnny x female reader with all 127 members watching

warnings/tags: smut, johnny fucking reader in front of all members, other members get themselves off while they watch, exhibitionism, voyeurism, orgy vibes but not really?, dirty filthy smut i’m sorry i wrote this

The way Johnny was squeezing the glass of wine he was holding, you were pretty sure it would burst into a million tiny shards at any given moment. To be fair, you had been atrocious, acting like a bratty little flirt the entire night to all of the members. No one seemed uncomfortable--in fact, they had been loving it. Flirting right back with you and watching Johnny for his reactions. Usually so composed, it was funny to see Johnny start to lose it; rolling his eyes and scoffing whenever you’d make an innuendo or let your hand linger on one of the members a little too long. The movie playing on the screen was simply background noise at this point, the chatter and drinks keeping everyone occupied at what was supposed to be a group movie night. It was slowly turning into something else, though, and everyone could feel the shift in the atmosphere.

Johnny wasn’t really jealous. The two of you had discussed this before--how he liked watching you flirt with others so he could take you back to his bed later that night and show you who you really belonged to. It wasn’t anything serious, just a fun way for the two of you to spice things up. Only now, with all the members watching, you were curious to see if Johnny would drag you away this time or show everyone--you included--who was really boss.

As if reading your mind, you felt Johnny’s tall figure come up behind you as he wrapped his long arms around your waist, wine glass nowhere to be seen.

“You think you’re real funny, don’t you?” He murmured into your ear, a shiver passing through you at his deep tone. You tried to keep the smirk off your face but to no avail, the pleasure of getting him riled up too great.

“Yes. It’s pretty fun to see you like this,” you said blatantly. Johnny let out a surprised laugh, squeezing you tightly to show that he wasn’t really mad but burying his face further into your neck. His tongue swept out to lick your skin, sending sparks flying up your spine as your mind conjured up the million things he could do to you in front of everyone. It was definitely one of your biggest fantasies; getting fucked so hard you couldn’t move while all the boys watched. They were your friends too, yes, but mostly an extension of Johnny, and the idea that they might enjoy watching their hyung take his girlfriend right out there in the open had you struggling to keep a moan in.

“You’d better be careful or I really will fuck you in front of everyone,” Johnny’s voice was low and raspy, full of lust but not serious enough to freak you out.

“Would that be such a bad idea?” You rest your head back against his chest. You could feel the sharp breath he sucked in, smiling ever so slightly as his chest expanded quicker.

“Is that what you want? For me to show off that cute little pussy to all the boys?” You moaned, nodding as a rush of heat went straight to your core. His hand snaked down to your shorts, unbuttoning them with only the slightest of movements before his long fingers brushed over your center. He surpassed your panties, diving down straight to your heat and circling at your clit. His middle digit ran down the length of your folds, collecting the wetness that had been pooling there for a while and bringing it back up to your bundle of nerves. You moaned louder, catching the attention of Doyoung, who was standing with Taeyong nearby, the both of them holding drinks. Doyoung flushed a deep red, even darker than he already was from the alcohol as he realized what you and Johnny were doing. Johnny made no move to take his hand out, instead pinching your clit once to get a reaction out of you and chuckling darkly.

You watched Doyoung nudge Taeyong, getting his friend’s attention and the both of them placing it directly on you. The exhibitionsm kink in you flared aggressively, you were unable to withhold any noises at this point and just decided to let go totally. Within the next minute or two all of the boys had somehow managed to gather around in a little circle, like they were waiting for you and Johnny to make an announcement or something, not to watch him finger his girlfriend as she clutched onto his arm for dear life. The only thing holding you up at this point was Johnny’s tight grip around your waist, your knees weak and legs giving out with the exhaustion of pleasure.

“Couch?” He spoke directly this time, almost like he was asking everyone and not just you. You nodded weakly, whimpering when Johnny slipped his finger out of your pants to pick you up and carry you over to the small couch. The boys all followed like little ducklings, no one daring to speak a word but completely entranced at the sight before them. You caught Jungwoo’s eyes for just a moment, his innocent smile a sharp contrast from such a very not innocent situation.

“What do you want, y/n? You want me to fuck you here in front of everyone?” Johnny’s tone was so cocky it would have annoyed you normally if you weren’t so turned on. You could only nod and moan, a deep groan coming from someone else as you opened your mouth to let the sound out. You shut it abruptly, head whipping over to investigate where it came from. Mark looked rather guilty, high cheekbones flushed a bright pink to match his ears. You let your eyes travel down to his crotch, taking note of the hard on he was sporting with a pleased grin. In fact, as you looked around at the rest of the boys, some of them sitting while others stood, many of them were already hard, their pants tenting with building erections.

“Please,” you choked out, “Please fuck me.”

Johnny made quick work of undressing his lower half, letting his pants and boxers sit bunched at the floor while he left his shirt still on. While you were slightly disappointed you weren’t seeing his abs, the prospect of what was coming made up for it. You laid back against the cushions, jumping slightly when you finally noticed Jaehyun right next to you. He flushed a little but didn’t move away, and neither you or Johnny told him to. A rush of nerves passed through you when it hit you that, yes, you were actually doing this, and yes, you desperately wanted to.

It seemed like everyone else did too, considering half of them were already palming themselves through their jeans. You took off your top to reveal a not-so-exciting bra, but everyone sucked in a breath when they observed how your breasts were nearly spilling out of the cups.

Johnny lined himself up at your entrance, the tip of his cock pushing all the way in until he bottomed out with a deep groan. Some of the boys made noises of their own, shifting around on their feet or in their seats as Johnny started to fuck you hard.

“Look at you. Soaking fucking wet from everyone watching, huh? I warned you not to tease me,” he grunted. You couldn’t even open your mouth enough for a response, only choked moans and gasps of desperation falling from your lips. The drag of his dick against your walls was glorious, filthy squelching sounds from your wetness echoing throughout the room. You let your head fall to the side to see Haechan leaning heavily on Mark, his hand grabbing his clothed crotch tightly.

“T-take it out,” you panted. The youngest faltered for a moment before realizing you were looking at him.

“W-what?” His voice cracked cutely. You groaned, eyes rolling back as Johnny’s tip brushed your most sensitive spot deep inside you. Opening your mouth, you tried again.

“Take it out...to get yourself off. If you want, I...I want to watch,” you confessed. Haechan cried out, loud and sweet before moving to follow your commands. Mark cursed and tore his eyes away from you and Johnny to watch his younger member do exactly as you suggested. A rush of hot pleasure struck you as you watched Haechan start to stroke himself, his hair falling into his eyes as he hunched over in pleasure. Johnny grabbed your face and turned your attention back to him, an almost animalistic expression about him as he pounded even deeper into you.

You heard another zipper and a few more quiet groans from beside you, but you couldn’t even move your head to see what was going on. Your orgasm was fast approaching despite the short amount of time Johnny had been fucking you. The hormones building in your core were so strong you were positive you’d come from his cock in you alone. You felt the cushion dip by your head as Jaehyun moved to do something, apparently catching Johnny’s attention as he let out an "Oh God.” You hoped it was Jaehyun touching himself too, so close to you but still unable to even be seen by your eyes. You clenched around Johnny, not even able to choke out a warning before you were coming.

Stars danced across your eyes as blinding pleasure raked your body, your back arching off the couch and thighs shaking. 

“Fuck,” Johnny was starting to lose his composure, eyes flicking from your body to Jaehyun still seated by your head. He moved your legs to rest on his shoulders, fucking deeper into you at the new angle and groaning repeatedly. You heard someone curse as it sounded like they were coming too, but you couldn’t move to watch as you gasped for air after the intense high.

“I’m gonna come,” Johnny’s eyes rolled back. He pulled out in a rush, stroking his length a few times before spilling the white ropes all over your stomach. As soon as he finished you turned your head to the side to look at the rest of the members, almost wanting to cry in pleasure at the scene before. Taeyong was barely hanging onto Doyoung, the two of them still dressed but rock hard and looking tense. Haechan had already come and apparently at some point so had Mark, his spent still cock in his dirtied fist. Jungwoo, Taeil, and Yuta were grabbing at themselves over their pants, huffing with heavy lids and hunched bodies. Finally you craned your neck to look at Jaehyun, a noise of exasperation at what had distracted Johnny so much.

“Fuck,” you blurted. Jaehyun was sitting with his pants at his ankles, one hand covered in come and gripping his still hard dick and the other shoving two fingers in his ass. He wasn’t moving but he certainly wasn’t pulling his hands away, dilated eyes flickering back and forth from your face to Johnny’s.

“Okay,” you sighed, “Give me two minutes and then we’re going again.”

[katierosefun]

creator tag

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works! 

thank you @kckenobi​ and @pandora15 for the tag!! <3 so here are the works, in no particular order and also oh gee i am so sorry this got so painfully long you can tell i’m procrastinating on my final + also i just tend to run my mouth when im talking about writing asdffd

to these memories (After Darth Sidious is defeated, everything changes. Some for the better, others not so much. Mostly better though. (Or: Anakin becomes a dad. Rex rehabilitates clone troopers who no longer want to be a part of the army. Ahsoka gets a call from an old friend. And maybe Obi-Wan finds out it’s not just his enemies who don’t stay dead. Basically, everyone gets the happy ending they deserve.)

so this was my first major longform tcw fic, and i just. i have a lot of feelings about this fic, mostly nostalgia and lots of gratefulness. first of all, i think i met a lot of super cool people through this fic, and i also? just? idk, this was a major project that i kind of worked on to cope with post-tcw sadness + also just. general sadness about the world’s situation. writing this story was actually super healing for me, mostly because i just. really wanted to have something where happy endings existed. 

so this really...was an experience, and i’m so super grateful for everyone who read along. to this day, whenever i get a comment about this fic, i feel super happy because it makes me feel glad to know that there were some people who took comfort in this work, because i really wanted this fic to have that kind of effect on people. :’) 

there they are (Right before Ahsoka leaves for Mandalore, Rex distracts Bo-Katan so she could give her family a proper goodbye. (There's hugging. We just needed our trio to hug.)

i think this was one of my first tcw fics of 2020, and. i just remember impulse writing this after watching old friends not forgotten because i was just. so sad that we didn’t get an anakin and ahsoka hug or a trio hug or anything. i understand why they didn’t--like, i really, really do, but. but i think if there’s a theme i’m going through this year, it’s ‘this was sad, so i’m gonna make it happy!!!’, so...as my masterlist puts it, ‘dave filoni said no trio hug, so i said fine, i’ll do it’. 

uhhhhh, how very unusual of me, but!!! probably my working on a new original story. i’ve got the fourth draft of another story siting in the background, but. this other story idea came at me, and five outlines later, i started this story. i’m about three chapters down now, but. a snippet of the prologue: 

“Well…it’s also a rather important story,” Rosalind said. “Do you enjoy stories?”

“I want to be a writer,” I blurted, and I stopped at that. I fiddled with my mug, heat that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate or the fire rushing to my face. Silly, oversharing me—oh, what a young, lonely child I was back then. So desperate for conversation that I had grown out of practice and resorted to sharing details that the average stranger would not care for.

But then again, these were not the average strangers—although I’m sure you’ve figured that for yourself.

“Yes,” I said meekly. “I enjoy stories.”

“Well,” Dae said after some time, “it’s good that you’re a writer.”

I lifted my head, and this time, I saw Dae and Rosalind smile at each other. A softer smile, one that made me feel suddenly dreadfully, dreadfully lonely.

“You might want to write this down,” Rosalind said at last. 

And so I did. 

*and cue the actual story* i won’t say too much because adsfsdfsfd talking about my original work makes me feel awkward + also i am constantly in fear of people stealing ideas even though,,,even though i know the only person who can write this story is me, anyways, but uh. i will say that i have a plan for a five-part series that’s basically about a witch and a princess. there’s a prophecy in the background. there’s magic. there’s rivals to friends to enemies to lovers. there’s father figures + big sister figures + found family + ancient kingdoms + the real world blending with the fantasy world + uh i’ve said enough okeee bye that’s it

the moment was enough (The war ends. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan try to work things out since the last time they actually saw each other.) 

it had been a long while since i had written anything that was really just about ahsoka and obi-wan, but. i think everyone knows that i really love my grandpadawan and grandmaster duo? idk, this fic really made me feel things because i was thinking a lot about how obi-wan and ahsoka had left things. i wanted to make it pretty clear that they both clearly care about each other a lot, but like. also. there’s still some hurt there. i just had so much fun writing this, because obi-wan and ahsoka are such an underrated duo and i love them :’) 

loose stitches (The discovery and aftermath of Maul. Anakin and Ahsoka find themselves pacing in front of the Council chambers multiple times. They might have taken Obi-Wan to Dex’s. Something might have unraveled, only to be stitched back together.) 

kasey before you say anything pls know that i would talk about this fic until literally the day i die i am sorry if i am making you feel self-conscious--but anyways this was a collab with the ever-talented, ever-wonderful @kckenobi. so uh, quick story which mayhaps i might not have told anyone before, but whatever, i’m listening to evermore and therefore have no choice but to be emotional huh--this fic was like...one of the first collabs i’ve ever done? in general, collaborations were always something that made me nervous because it required lots of vulnerability and honesty, and there’s a side of me that’s very obsessed with having this image of Neat Writer Who Has Coherent Thoughts (which,,,doesn’t even exist so why was i obsessed? no idea). so that said, this collab was just. so wild + wonderful because it really was, first of all, such a cool, magical experience. there’s something so amazing and insane about passing words back and forth and like, even a screen apart, there’s something magical about like. sitting down at a laptop at the end of the day and feeling like you’re about to step into a portal where it’s just two people trying to spin a story. writing with kasey was just such a wonderful, absolutely magical experience, and i’m really glad that we got to write this story + the many more that we did. just. there’s something really personal and beautiful about writing until 1, 2, 3 am when the world’s asleep. anyways. magical. 

asdfsdfd i’m very sorry that this got so incredibly long, but!! that said, 2020 was a hard year for lots of different reasons both personally + because of *gestures at the world* but. like. i’m really, really glad that i got back to writing clone wars fic this year, because i’ve met so many wonderful, wonderful, wonderful people here, and. yeah. y’all are my serotonin suppliers, and i do refer to a lot of people here as ‘oh yeah, my friend and i were talking the other day about...’ and ‘why are you smiling?’ ‘oh, just something a friend said--’ and. yeah. i hope y’all have a wonderful, wonderful rest of the year + also a wonderful life because y’all are simply the best :’)) 

no-pressure tags: @lightasthesun @meandmyechoes @soplantyourownflowers @ilonga @sonderwalker @mytardisisparked @60sec400 and really, honestly, anyone else who wants to!!! <333 (like. i mean it. literally. just tag me and lemme scream encouragements at you.)

[ofwolvesandbutterflies]

questions

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags: almostftl!au, bestfriend!au, idolverse!au

Warnings: none

day 11 of 30 days with NCT

Synopsis: in which you can’t seem to his questions with anything but questions

// ‘cause whenever I’m with you, it feels so right // (x)

--

[14:59]

“It’s almost 3, Y/N.” 

Glancing over from your computer screen to where Chenle stood, leaning lazily against the door frame, you shrugged and turned back towards the second draft of an essay that was due tomorrow. You heard your best friend groan when you didn’t respond. An unspoken apology sat on the tip of your tongue because if there was one thing he really couldn’t stand, it was you skipping out on the few and far between afternoons that he had off. 

“What, no ‘Thank you, Chenle’?” The sarcasm clung meaningfully onto his words. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as he pushed off his spot near the door and stalked slowly towards your bed. 

“It’s not like I can’t see the clock on my computer but…Thanks, Lele.” you hummed, before furiously typing another sentence into the sadly unfinished document. Your gaze refused to move from the computer screen, even when you felt the bed shift to welcome another body. Still though, a displeased grunt left sounded in your throat when Chenle draped himself dramatically over your legs and stared up at you, looking oh so perfectly like a puppy in need of attention. When he didn’t move after a solid thirty seconds, you paused in your typing to ask “So, like, do you need something?” 

“Are you planning on changing out of your pajamas anytime soon?”

Finally fed up with your best friend’s antics, you exhaled slowly and closed your computer, setting it off to the other side of the bed. With Chenle in the room, there was no way you were going to get anything else done. Leaning forward to rest your chin in your hands, you shot a challenging glare at the dark hair male crushing your legs. “Do you want me to?” 

Chenle rolled his eyes and sat up on the edge of your bed to glare right back at you. Rather than answering your question, he pushed himself closer until there were only a few measly inches between the tip of your nose and his. When he spoke, his voice came out teasing, playful. Lower than you had ever heard it before. You fought the blush back down. “Are we just answering each question with another question?” 

“I don’t know, Chenle.” Tilting your head to lessen the gap between you by even more, a smirk, a look of pure mirth that disregarded the pink dusting both of your cheeks and the rapid heart beat sounding in your ears painted itself on the both of your lips. You spared a saccharine glance down towards his lips. “Are we?” 

A different type of tension hung in the air between you and you reveled in the way he seemed to gravitate even… closer… 

And then he was gone, pulled away, looked away in an effort to avoid the knowing gazes you threw in his direction. 

“You tell me, Y/N,” He laughed, a bright, cheerful, Chenle sound that warmed you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. Draping yourself back against the headboard, you observed the flustered pink still faintly covering his cheeks. Pushing himself up to his hands and knees, he made his way up the bed to lay beside you. “Do you want to?” 

Without a second of hesitation and as if the strange - yet not unwelcome - tension from before had only existed in a different dimension, he draped an arm around you like usual, pulling you closer to his body. Something saddened you upon realizing… perhaps he didn’t reciprocate the sheltered feelings you hid for him, but you brushed the irrelevant thoughts away. Relaxing into his familiar warmth, you rested your cheek on his shoulder. “Not if you don’t want to. Do you want to?” 

“Honestly,” he laughed, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Not really. It’s just getting a little repetitive.” Out of his pocket came his phone and within a few seconds he had opened Netflix. “On a completely unrelated note, though, what do you want to watch?” 

Ignoring the fact he had just asked another question, you shrugged, feeling your eyelids slowly getting heavier after an extensive day of cramming. “Doesn’t matter to me. You have something in mind?” 

“Shit,” he giggled. A sleepy smile of your own appeared as you listened to the happy vibrations rolling through his chest as he scrolled through his recommendations. “We’re doing it again.” A tiny laugh escaped your lips and he smiled, a small smile, a secretive smile. With you in his arms, what reason did he have not to? 

Overwhelmed with the terrible choices you had made regarding sleep recently, it wasn’t long before your eyelids began to slide closed. Until you remembered the question he originally asked you. 

“Oh wait,” you mumbled against the polyester cotton blend of your best friend’s shirt. A sound of acknowledgement reverberated through his body and you continued. “Did you want me to change out of my pj’s?” 

“No,” he chuckled, pausing in his movie searching to press a light kiss to the skin right above your eyebrows. “You’re going to fall asleep anyways.”

[keikaru]

Valediction

Listless after the war, Felix wanders across the continent with a bleak outlook. He returns to Garreg Mach—presumably to tie up any loose ends—but Bernie and Seteth persuade him to stay and work for the Fódlan Postal Company.

While the war was harsh, assimilating to civilian life was harder. He would try if it meant seeing Sylvain again.

----

Originally posted on A03 but deleted it because I believe I could improve the quality later on. Personally, I think the story lacks some panache, so when it returns, I hope it meets my own expectations! Here’s the first draft if you’re still interested. Rest assured, I WILL revamp this story. 

A Violet Evergarden AU. First draft under the cut.

Tags: Assimilating to Civilian Life, Post-Time Skip, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Felix basically becomes an Auto Memory Doll, Pining, Suicidal Thoughts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Characters Tags to Be Added 

-----

Felix continued wearing gloves because he knew the red stains would never leave his hands.

A metallic scent always permeated through the air; the phantoms of war did not let go of his sword. Even vestiges of the past hid in mirrors and shadows, following him whenever he traveled to snowcapped lands or to fields of grass that resembled the ocean.  

No matter how far he traveled, the whispers of war, blood, and regret would remain with him.  

Where to then? He wondered exhaustedly. If he could not outpace his demons, what was there to do but return to the start?

He traveled for too long that even Garreg Mach seemed so far away.

Garreg Mach. The Officers Academy. Places he hasn’t stepped foot in after the war ended.

If he saw a glimpse of the Professor—the archbishop , he amended—perhaps the ghosts of war would be laid to rest. If he went back to the beginning, maybe he could make amends and disappear for a final time.

So he made up his mind.

Quite possibly, he thought, finally realizing how tense his body was, the boar, no… Dimitri would stop haunting him. Maybe Ingrid’s melancholic eyes would stop gazing at him. Maybe Glenn would stop appearing in the mirror. And maybe, just maybe Sylvain was…

No . He stopped his line of thought. There was no use indulging in the past. Nothing but painful memories awaited him.

Minutes passed before Felix unclenched his hands and slackened up.

How much longer would he live life, simply to endure it? It was enough for him to feel sick to his stomach. But perhaps it would all stop if he went back to the beginning.

…

So Felix traveled.

Despite the arduous journey, he somehow felt lighter. Calmer. As if invigorated by the prospect of returning. Not to a home, but to a memory he was fond of.

During the last week of the Great Tree Moon, Felix Hugo Fraldarius arrived at Garreg Mach Monastery.

Felix stood on the bridge that connected itself to the inner town. He shielded his eyes from the harsh sunlight and observed the skylarks that flew over him. Their song carried in the wind as he walked, taking slow but measured steps through the iron wrought gates and into the bustling marketplace.

It was disorienting when he passed a group of giggling children, past colorful merchant stalls. The fresh scent of bread wafted throughout the square and it reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in hours.  

Pausing in front of a modest vendor, Felix called for the shopkeeper.

“Excuse me—” he stopped, realizing how hoarse he sounded. A quick swig of water. It was enough to replenish his voice.

Being a polite person was different from talking with one’s sword. He always had a habit of pointing to menus and never bothered with small talk.

Today, he remembered that he had to be a Person and not a Mercenary For Hire.

And yet he found himself forgetting how to speak. As if he cut off a part of himself the moment he left his noble title behind.  

“How can I help—ah, pardon my manners, um, sir! Sir Felix, err, Lord Felix.”

The man quickly bowed, and Felix only stared, puzzled by the sudden formality. It had been forever since someone addressed him by the title of sir or lord.

The seller then straightened himself and continued, with a relieved expression on his face.

“I’m glad that you’re alive. I wondered where you disappeared to after the war ended.”

Felix gave the man a doubtful look and paused.

“…have we met?” The swordsman handed a few marks of bronze to the seller and pointed to a loaf of bread, cheese, and a slab of jerky. The man bagged his meal and Felix took it from him with a curt nod. “Thanks.”

As Felix turned to leave, the seller spoke up again.

“You saved my life,” the seller spoke solemnly, taking off his cap. Felix stilled. He imagined the sincerity on the man’s face as he listened. “For that, I’m grateful. Even if you don’t remember, I still wanted to thank you. May the Gods bless you, sir.”

Without another word, Felix raised a parting hand and left.

In truth, Felix did not remember the man. It was more accurate to say he did not remember much during and after those five years of war.

Now that it was over, little else seemed to matter to him. Often, he felt like a ghost that wandered for far too long. It was enough for him to take a lengthy swig from a different canteen. Alcohol was not his favorite, but the bitterness that burned in his throat helped him forget.

Somewhere near the town square and under the shade of an elderly tree, he found an empty spot. Felix then ate his meal in silence. Minutes passed and he was satisfied. He wrapped up the remainders and placed it inside his bag. With a stretch, he rested against the trunk of the pine and crossed his arms over his chest.

As the wind threaded through his hair, he listened to the quiet ambience of the town. Tranquility was a quality he used to think he wanted. But now, tranquility seemed to translate to idleness.

Like now , he thought, debating where to go next.

He closed his eyes. If anything, a quick rest would do him good. The moment he counted to ten, he promised to stand up and find an inn.

…

And just like that, he then opened his eyes and realized the sky was now a soft orange.  

Ah shit . He thought blearily, straightening himself. The third time.

During all those years of traveling, it was rare for him to lower his guard. Yet somehow, he felt no signs of danger.

My senses have dulled then.

He glanced to his left. Just as he suspected, his worn bag was still beside him, seemingly untouched. It wasn’t as if he carried anything valuable except his sword.

Speaking of which, he glanced to his right. His sword was beside him. He sighed, relieved that nothing went missing.

“Felix? Are you finally awake?”

Instantly, he snapped his head toward the source and unsheathed his sword.

“What do you want?” he positioned himself into a fighting stance. Felix narrowed his eyes and berated himself. He was foolish enough to forget himself.

Ambushes could happen at any time.

“H-Hey, wait! It’s me—” the voice squeaked out, with a familiar nervous quality to it— “it’s Bernie! So please, put your sword away!”

Just like that, the sword returned to its scabbard.

The young woman before him was indeed the same girl he knew from back then. The shy, reserved daughter of Count Varley.

“Oh,” he deadpanned. “Why?”

“Wha—you ask why ?!” baffled, she huffed at him. “At the very least, you could ask how I’m doing. You haven’t changed much, have you?”

Felix lowered himself to the ground, sitting against the tree trunk again and gathered his belongings. “OK. How are you?” But then he switched topics, choosing to ignore how she flailed her arms because of his curtness. “By the way, where’s the nearest inn?”

“The nearest inn huh,” she murmured; her eyes lingered on the sword at his side. A bit of the blade poked from its scabbard and gleamed dully in the light. The expression in her eyes changed. It appeared melancholic. “Hey Felix,” she started quietly, “did you know that—"

She realized that Felix was busy fastening his bag around himself and counting the bronze and silver marks in his hand. Bernadetta paused and allowed a soft sigh.

“Something wrong?” Felix spoke, somewhat absentmindedly. He stood up, pocketed his money, and brushed off the dust on his pants. He double checked his gear. “You’re too quiet.”

Bernadetta held her hands behind her back and smiled at him. Felix inquired back with a stare.

Now she was acting odd.

Finally, he noticed how she wore an outfit that resembled a uniform. It was not the one from the Officer’s Academy but a different type.

While he was curious, he wasn’t that intrigued.

“Actually, follow me,” she piped up, turning around and vaguely gesturing at the tall brick buildings in the back. She adjusted the cap on her head. “It’s a bit of a walk but I can guarantee the place is cheaply priced.”

“Ah. Thanks then.”

He followed her and realized how much the monastery changed. The merchants in the square bustled with enterprise and quality wares. Tea imported from regions unknown to him could be found here, along with other artisan goods and regal weapons. Before leaving Garreg Mach again, he wished to see if any of Zoltan’s weapons made their way into a blacksmith’s hand.

He looked in front of him. The architecture remained largely the same, but some of the brickwork stuck out like efforts of reconstruction. Bernadetta suddenly turned, and he followed suit, wondering how much further was left.

Felix was relieved that the silence between them was companionable. Occasionally, she pointed out a few new landmarks and he was enthralled by the changes throughout the town. Fountains, lampposts, well-tended topiaries—Garreg Mach transformed much while he was away.

It somehow left him with a sense of awe and nostalgia. Except one thing gnawed at his chest.

Most of the faces he knew before—they no longer stood beside him.

…

They continued passing corners and streets and crossed a bridge. Soon, Bernadetta stopped.

Felix looked elsewhere and abruptly halted, nearly colliding into her back.

“Cheap huh?” He said, marveling at the sight before him. He could see why she stopped.

A dark bricked manor house towered above him, with long windows winking back the afternoon light. In front of the gray stone steps was a small crowd of people that varied from nobles and commoners alike.

Felix squinted at them.

Most seemed to be holding something in their hands. It appeared to be scraps of paper.

“Let’s go.” Bernadetta ambled forth, passing the iron gates and flowerbed. She paused and waited for him. “Seteth’s been waiting for you ever since we spotted you dozing at the square.”

“Excuse me?” Felix gaped at the marvelous building. He was certain that was not here years ago. His mind was unable to process her words. “You said cheap lodgings. This. This isn’t—” he gestured at the opulence and swiveled around, his back turned against the building. He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “OK. Well, I saw an inn before we rounded the corner and—”

“Felix,” Berndetta spoke firmly, “I want you to stay here.”

A beat of silence.

He couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, perplexed by her sudden change in demeanor.

Before he could speak, Bernadetta spoke up without her usual reserve.

“How long have you been wandering the continent? Because your eyes…I know that look.”

“You’re asking me that now?” there was no heat behind his words. Only a familiar exhaustion found its way into his voice.

Felix slowly turned around and approached her, with arms folded across his chest. Her gray eyes locked onto his and they gazed at each other.

Bernadetta did not flinch. She only inquired him with her silence.

Unusually enough, he relented.

“For too long,” he admitted, glancing over her head and toward the manor house. “Well, what is it then? Why did you bring me here?”

She let out a lengthy sigh and seemed to loosen up. He didn’t realize how tense she had been throughout their walk.

“This is the Fódlan Postal Company.”

Another familiar voice segued into their conversation. Felix glanced to his right and saw a figure emerge from behind a topiary. Seteth stepped out, greeting the former students with a stern but noticeably softer look on his face. Seteth hadn’t changed after all of these years, but he wore a uniform similar to Bernadetta’s.

“Felix, I want you to work here as an Auto Memory Doll.”

“You’re kidding,” Felix managed out weakly. The sudden proposal made no sense. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll learn then.” Seteth offered, waving a hand at his words.

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“It’ll be worth your while.” Seteth was already walking in the direction of the entrance. “Come along, Felix.”

Felix countered one last time. “You can’t be serious.”

Felix looked to Bernadetta for help. Of course, it was a mistake. She only grabbed onto his arm, her eyes sparkling as she persuaded him.  

“The lodging is free if you work here.”

“That isn’t the issue !”

Felix lost track of how many sighs he heaved that day. Unable to shake off Bernadetta, he reluctantly acquiesced and allowed himself to be dragged toward the building. A series of foul words clouded his thoughts as he passed the crowd and made his way toward the interior of the building.

Under different circumstances, he would have been impressed. Under different circumstances, he would gone more willingly. But this welcoming committee—if one could dare call it that—was so adamant about receiving him.

If anything, it felt like the past when Sylvain forced him into town for some skirt chasing. Like how Ashe insisted him to read tales of chivalry, like how Lysithea tried to bribe him with sweets, or how with Annette—

The past huh , he mused dryly. He found himself standing inside the foyer, wearily eyeing the double spiral staircases and the long window panes. As beautiful and ornate as it was, their definition of a “postal service” was greatly different from his own.

And yet…the figures that descended resembled people he knew from his academy days.

“Felix? Felix, is that really you?”

A young man with gray-brown bounded down the steps, eager to meet him. When the stranger brushed his hair out of his eyes, Felix recognized who he was.

Ashe?  

Lord Lonato’s son was before him. He smiled at Felix, with a relieved look on his face.

“You promised to write. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“There’s no such thing as a permanent address as a mercenary,” Felix replied stiffly, somewhat taken aback. “Your letters—they would have returned to you.”

“But you’re here now,” Ashe said again, with a gentler look on his face. “And hey, I’m glad you’re OK.”

Felix was at a loss for words. Instead, he looked elsewhere, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden warmth and reception from his appearance.

Seteth and Bernadetta looked at each other and smiled. They didn’t speak but only watched as Felix rubbed the back of his neck while Ashe continued to speak to him.

Just then, more figures descended the staircase. Felix struggled to recall who they were, but the moment they stood in front of him, their names entered his memory.

Marianne, Ignatz, Linhardt.

Yuri and Dorothea.

They were all members of the academy in some way, even if he wasn’t close to them, he still recognized them.  

Felix felt his chest tightened. A well of emotion opened. He felt something, but it was a strange something that left him feeling more melancholic than joyful.

He blinked, not once, not twice, but three times. Aside from the smiling faces and animated conversations, he could have sworn he saw phantoms behind them.

And they watched him with somber eyes.

“Felix? You look like you just saw a ghost,” Dorothea piped up, glancing at him with concerned eyes. “You must be tired. Seteth, isn’t there a spare room upstairs?”

“There is. Bernadetta, could you show Felix his room?”

She replied quickly. “Follow me!”

With a gentle nudge from her, Felix followed. He managed to recompose again.

Soon, they reached a rosewood door with a gold handle. Bernadetta unlocked the door and gestured for him to enter. Felix did.  

It was minimally furnished. The windows were across from the door, with a desk underneath. A bed was pushed into the left corner while the right side had a dresser and a mirror.

Bernadetta stood inside the room, pausing a little before the dresser on the right side. Her eyes roamed the room for a bit before catching Felix’s reflection in the mirror.

The faraway look in Felix’s eyes, the way he mechanically moved toward the window—it was plain to see that he was deeply contemplating something.

She hesitated to ask, but at the same time, she recalled how he vanished without a trace. Rumors of Felix’s whereabouts only amplified when a sword that resembled his own appeared on Margrave Gautier’s doorstep.

By chance, she delivered some correspondence to Sylvain that day. He started to entertain her until another parcel arrived.

She remembered how his eyes exuded a grief beyond words, that the one Sylvain cherished was not immune to a mortal fate.

While the rumors of Felix’s death proved false, the way the mercenary was now…he might as well resemble death.

It pained her to see him become a husk of a person.

If anything, it would anguish Sylvain even more after seeing Felix in this state. When the time was right, she would pen a letter to him again.

On some level, she understood how Felix felt, even if just a fraction of it.

Assimilating into civilian life was difficult. For part of their youth, they learned tactics and strategies, artillery and battle formations. From operating catapults to forging stronger weapons, it was such a stark contrast when she started ghostwriting and delivering letters.  

And yet…it made her rediscover her love for writing again.

Clearing her throat, she found the courage to approach Felix.

He stood near the window, steeped in hues of twilight. Felix tilted his head up and observed something she couldn’t quite see. She couldn’t help but feel mesmerized.  

“Seteth will see to the details tomorrow. So for today, focus on resting.”

“Alright.”

Before Bernadetta left, she spoke softly to him.

“And welcome back, Felix. You don’t have to feel alone anymore.”

[soranihimawari]

sketchbook & coffees

this is a part of a time stamp draft i had in my drafts for a while. after several revisions, i opted to continue using asahi as an inspiration behind this piece. 

summary: yn is an artist. her club project for the annual ‘local artist fall soiree’ is sketches of the young and old in miyagi. when the model the club had lined up for the month cancels, she asks her classmate, azumane to “borrow” his hands for the project.

warnings: anxiety/anxiety attacks, how to cope when having one in public/public setting (let me know if my tw tag is operating please)

genre: fluff with healing/romantic comedy at the end (classmates to lovers?)

rating: pg-15+ (for the anxiety scenes)// A.A.F [azumane asahi fluff]

[20:45]

the pencil scratches against the rough page delicately tracing the outline of the shadows of your lover’s hand. somewhere in the distance, you hear the faint sounds of the city coming to life for the first time since the sun has set. the neon lights of the corner shops in front of the local bogedas in roppengi reflect the golden flecks on your eyes. you enjoy the company of the man sitting across from you, his silent stare causes you to empathize with him and as a show of gratitude you pause your drawing of his hands for a moment and smile. he asks if he can move his hands now, to which you nod. his cherrywood dyed hair is brushed to one side, only tied by a thin pink elastic you leant him earlier that day in class. you had slipped him a note in his locker right as classes were ending, knowing he had practice for the volleyball club later. you, whose handwriting he could never forget for peer review essays, asked if he would mind getting coffee with you one day when he was free. you mentioned you had an art project for your club due that month and the model they were going to try to invite for said project had backed out (due to personal reasons); although you weren’t sure why he seemed more flustered, you dismissed it as being nervous since most thought the art club drew semi-nudes, but that wasn’t the case. you explained your senior project was sketching different body parts (clothed or not was at the level of the model’s comfort) of both the old and the young. you had a sketch for every part you needed except for the hands. hence why you suggested the coffeeshop down the street from your mother’s job. with the date and time set, you are now sitting across the table with the ace of your school’s volleyball club.

he offered to pay for the coffees when you had arrived to the cafe, but you insisted on paying him back with tickets for the exhibition as well as a pack of hair ties for his time. what you chose to ignore was the way his friends (and teammates) would tease the tall lad about the way you made his heart soar whenever you were within a three foot radius. he always wanted to play his best for himself, yet he couldn’t help to recall all the times you tried to encourage him after he was completely shut out from date tech the season prior. you knelt down in front of his desk and rested your chin on his desk before spewing some words of advice: “a scientist never repeats the same experiment twice if the results are the same, azumane.” you knew of his anxieties about rejoining the club after the spunky first years showed up outside to corner him and ask if he still wanted to rejoin. you gave him an encouraging thumbs up when he saw you walking down the hall with a broad grin, how could he say no to them? 

as you were putting the finishing notes on the gesture drawing of his hands, you heard him inhale sharply. you glance up quickly, not sure if he was exhibiting any other signs of a panic attack, but you wrapped your hand around his palm for stability. even seated down as you were, you realize how erratic his hand had begun to shake from staying in one position for so long. he began to slowly hyperventilate as the espresso machine went off and the night crowd began trickling into the small shop. attacks, especially for him, were far and inbetween, and you recall the first time you helped him through one: 

you were in the science lab stock room and the door closed on you both. he began to get this panicked look in his eyes; it was not an easy expression to forget. unaware of how to handle the situation properly back then, you tell your classmate to close his eyes as you lifted one of his hands by his wrist and placed it near your neck pulse point. you were a lot more calmer then, thus instructing him to breath in and out with every thump his fingers felt. 

“how do you know this will work yn?” azumane said. his voice was rattled with fear and his eyes looked every which way but down at you. the closeness of it all was what got to him.

“i know it’s a lot to handle right now, but do your best and trust me,” you said. you were stern in your disposition and once he took you up on your advice, you both rode through his attack together. your lips grazed his wrist before asking him if he knew anyone who could help him through an attack. to be quite frank, after you two exited the room, you asked to speak with the teacher after class. when you explain your thoughts about how worried you were for him, the teacher suggested in the next staff meeting to have at least one member (including yourself) in all of azumane’s classes the following year considering what had transpired in her lab supply room. you were lucky the school staff cared about their students’ well being and had implemented a ‘buddy’ system for those who experienced similar issues. you don’t let asahi know about this set up and you both were elated to know you were in the same class again for senior year.

more often than he would like to admit, he thought about that day, because it was the day he changed your contact info in his phone to ‘my wisest yn-chan’. although, one practice early on in the season, noya noticed his friend’s phone going off right as practice was wrapping up and that was the day when the rest of the crows got their ace to admit how he truly felt about the “wise yn-chan”.

you gave his hand a firm squeeze as if to say, ‘i’m here for you. calm yourself, just for me, please.’ 

“asahi, it’s all right,” your voice is like finely spun sugar to him. “focus on my voice and breathe with me this time, ok?”

you don’t know the power you hold over his heart just yet, but you had an idea once he began to breathe in rhythm with you. his knuckles which had turned white when you held his free hand, began to relax more once you helped him through the worse of it.

“i-i’m sorry,” his voice was small. he was as gentle as they come, but he was still the frightened boy from your second year science class. truthfully, he didn’t want to have an attack when he was having such a lovely afternoon with you; all he really wanted to do was enjoy some time with you ever since you explained why you wanted to meet at the cafe. now that he was a bit embarrassed by his handling of his own attack because it had been so long between his last anxiety attack, yet he thanked whatever gods were nearby for having you there with him.

“don’t worry about it,” you said. then a coy smile carved its way across your features. you realized he was becoming more flustered, so you release his hand from yours. you ask several follow up questions to him after the last remaining bits of the attack subsided and as you talk through him, you noticed how much more calmer your voice makes him. if you thought he didn’t have a crush you prior to today, you were proven wrong the moment he used both of his hands to reach for yours before you packed away your things. he muttered a “p-please don’t go just yet,” but when you studied the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his eyes telegraphed his plea of ‘i might have another one when you’re gone and i’m still not used to handling one by myself yet.’ 

the action alone startled you at first, granted you have known asahi since second year (through walking the same route with him home from school prior to the science lab incident), but this was the fifth time you helped him through an assortment of anxiety ridden attacks (and you didn’t mind it at all since he was the only one of the third years who didn’t share a class with either the captain or vice-captain that year). you tell him to close his eyes as his breathing returned to normal again and when a familiar tune came on the playlist for the cafe, you started to hum the opening bars. you weren’t a hero perse, but you were pretty damn close especially for the classmate sitting across from you. when you feel his grip relax, you don’t dare to let either of his hands return to his side of the table. 

roughly twenty minutes later, you and asahi roam the streets of roppengi heading back to the train platform headed for the miyagi stops. you still hold his hand, wondering how long would it take for him to realize you had felt the same about him since the start of the semester. asahi walks you to your father’s house a few blocks away from his when you return back to the safety of your hometown.

“azumane,” your voice is resilient in it’s unwavering support. the gentle giant had begun to turn around mentioning he’d see you the day of the art festival (you had planned on going together originally, but that changed as soon as you teased him for labeling himself as your date. you mentioned you liked the color of strawberry ice cream since his blush reminded you of it in the fluorescent light inside the train).

“hmm?” he asks, taking his hands out of his jacket pocket. you dropped your school bag on the porch before you pulled him into a hug.

“ack!” he exclaims right as he felt your arms wrap around him with your face turning to one side against his torso. he chuckled nervously before hugging you back; he bent down slightly and rested one of his cheeks atop your head. your shoulder length hair danced in the nightly breeze against the nape of your neck.

“i’ll always be here for you; i believe in you doing your best,” you say suddenly thus causing your soon-to-be-boyfriend(?)/crush to nod. “now come on, get yourself home and i’ll see you next friday at six.�� 

you release him from your embrace, backing away slowly to create some space between you two, and with what found courage he had stored in him, azumane extends his hand to grip your shoulder lightly. it was a slight warning before you shut your eyes quickly blinking as you felt his breath tickle the side of your face. whatever he whispered to you made you more flustered than you already were. he left soon thereafter with the widest grin.

***

“woah woah woah,” noya said. the libero casually glanced up and down at his best friend who was dressed in business casual clothes after the team caught wind of their ace having a date on a friday night. azumane decided to wear navy slacks and a dress shirt with a belt and his hair was left down (noya’s idea). the ace knew his friends from the club would help him give some encouraging words of wisdom about fashion sense and style, but since he wanted to impress you a little, he wanted to stop by the gym where you had agreed to meet up prior to you arriving on campus.

“noya,” azumane began. he breathed a sigh of exasperation. “do you think this is too much?”

“you’re going to an exhibit by the art club, right?” sugawara inquires, walking around his friend before said friend gave him an approving nod. “you look fine.”

low whistles were heard from tanaka as well all the while the first years along with the single-second year bachelors just laughed and made a few kissing noises up until both sawamura and ennoshita told them to quit it.

on the other hand, none of the boys, with the exception of their managers noticed you in the doorway of their gym. you chose to wear a form-fitting azure cocktail dress with peep toe heels. your dress had pockets, so you had a pair of flats tucked away there. you opted to wear your hair in a messy side braid and all talking ceased as soon as your shoes made contact with the gym floor. 

“holy crap,” kazuhita whispered before he elbowed ennoshita who then turned red in the face. you walked a little taller that day and the quieter the team got, the more the nerves came back to asahi’s mind. the first years as a whole were frozen for a second suddenly blushing like mad.

“literal goddess!” tanaka said nearly crying as you winked at him and noya. to be fair, they almost passed out. sugawara and daichi suddenly froze up finding various details around the gym suddenly very interesting so they weren’t caught staring at you. honestly, what else would you expect from the crows of karasuno?

“stop making fun of me, guys. i just want tonight to go smoothly,” asahi’s voice said. there was a hush over the gym and judging by hiw quiet his usually talkative teammates were being, he got more nervous about the date he had with you.

 “wait, why is no one talking?” he asked, after re-fixing the feather shaped cuff link on his shirt. you were standing a few paces behind him, pondering if the ace knew just how effortlessly handsome he was.

“probably because they saw me walk by,” your voice had a lilt of laughter in it. what asahi imagined you would wear versus what you were wearing in real time, clearly outweighed his imagination tenfold. the dress hugged you in all the right places causing you to spin around, slowly, just for him. who knew you had that figure tucked away underneath the girls uniform was beyond the members of the team. as you complete your semi-spin, you walk up toward asahi with an amused expression meeting his flirtatious stare (the rest of his face telegraphed a slight case of nervousness, but he had his brain keep his eyes trained solely on your movements. probably didn’t help he was restraining himself from asking you to skip the soiree because he’s be far too invested in leaving you breathless).

“you clean up well,” you tease, poking his chest. you laugh at how his feigns surprise before leaning down and whispering his reply.

“so do you,” asahi’s voice is dangerously low. far lower than what you’re used to hearing in class.then again, it was mostly due to you showing up in that dress. she’s really pretty. is this really y/n-san? hold on, is that a new lipstick color? 

“ready to get out of here with me?” you ask, extending your hand out for him, which he gladly takes. 

he leads you out of the gym, but before you cross over the threshold of the gym, you say over your shoulder: “don’t worry guys! i promise i’ll have him home in time for morning practice!” 

“you better!” sugawara yelled before he noticed you laughing at how quickly asahi’s hand held yours a little tighter. 

before the evening’s event draws to a close, you ask one of the wait staff to take a photo of you and your ‘friend.’ you stand side by side and before the shutter closes, you give him a peck on the side of his face leaving an imprint of your strawberry pink painted lips. it was the best image you have of you two together from the local artist fall soiree mostly because of how wide the ace actually smiled.

--end--

[aelaer]

The Blood in My Veins (a serial)

Okay, so I will sometimes let prompts that interest me just sit for a bit and see if they remain in my head or not and yeah, Prompt #608 from @ironstrangeprompts (which I can't tag for some reason) wouldn't go away and I blame absolutely everyone who told me to do it for distracting me from the long multi-chapters I'm desperately trying to write this year. But in return you get Part One of a tumblr serial with absolutely no idea as to where it's going and no update schedule in mind. :P But it's supposed to get to the reveal in the prompt eventually. Promise. Speculation highly encouraged as that helps plot bunnies very much.

Prompt: Kidnapped to play doctor for a still unseen other prisoner; Stephen realizes there is only one person on the planet who would have palladium in their blood.

This is unbetaed; apologies for any errors.

Part 1 - How We Began

Stephen's thoughts were sluggish and his memory spotty as he began to wake up. Worse, he had a headache that was boring into his temples and made the idea of opening his eyes, never mind moving, sound like an absolutely terrible one.

Sound began to filter through the fog. Eventually he was able to distinguish some words within it.

"...waking up…"

"...pulse is still slow…"

"...considering what he was given…"

He recognized none of the voices. Through sheer stubbornness alone, Stephen ignored his pounding head and forced his heavy eyelids open, only to immediately close them again against the sharp brightness of the fluorescent lighting above him. He could not help but groan.

"Right, the lights," someone—female—said, and he felt a cloth placed over his eyes. "I'm afraid I can't do anything about the lights, but you'll adjust to them soon enough. I have some water for you when you're ready, too."

Some part of Stephen's brain registered that she had an English accent. The rest of the functioning part of his mind focused on speaking. "Who…" And that was all he could manage at the moment.

"My name's Doctor Summer Weston," she answered.

A doctor? Was he injured? He wet his lips and tried for more than one word. "My... injuries?" What had he been doing to get injured? How bad was it? How much morphine was running through his system?

He felt Doctor Weston's fingers on his radial pulse. (Why was she doing that? Where was the EKG?) "No injuries; your current headache and sensitivity to light are an after effect of the drug in your system. I think you're at the tail end of your symptoms, though."

That… made no sense in a number of ways. Stephen forced his eyes open once more, and the cloth over his eyes made the endeavor manageable this time. "What happened?"

He heard her exhale softly. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Stephen had to pause to think about it, which was both incredibly unusual and rather annoying. He frowned to himself as he concentrated. Was he at the hospital? No, he was off. He was… "Grocery shopping. I was at the store. I think I paid." Yes, he remembered paying. He had decided to walk the three blocks to and from the store and was heading back to his apartment. Beyond that point, his memory became fuzzy.

Doctor Weston didn't say anything about his answer and instead just said, "You need water. Do you think you can handle the light? If not, we can keep the towel on and I can help you up."

He didn't respond, but moved his arm up and pulled the cloth away from his eyes, squinting at the ugly rectangle panels above him. The other doctor helped him up into a sitting position and gave him a bottle of water, but Stephen was too busy staring at his surroundings. While he was on a medical bed, in front of him was a large room that could only be described as a biochemical lab. It had state-of-the-art equipment, much of it looking brand new, and working there was another man and two women all in lab coats. Against nearby walls away from the machinery were several other medical beds.

"Drink," Doctor Weston encouraged, and his parched throat more than anything had Stephen doing so.

"Where am I?" he asked, squinting at Doctor Summer Weston. She appeared somewhere between thirty and forty and currently wore her long brown hair in a messy bun. She was pale and looked tired, with dark bags under her grey eyes and thin lips bent downturned. She wasn't wearing any makeup, either, which was a look he knew on his female patients before surgery but usually not on female doctors (and a couple of non-women doctors, too).

"I don't know," she answered. "None of us do." 

Stephen's confusion (and alarm, though he wouldn't admit that yet) grew. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She gave him a rueful smile. "There's really no easy way to break this: you've been kidnapped, just like the rest of us."

He stared at her in disbelief, half-wondering if he heard her right. His head was still pounding with his heartbeat and that made his hearing less clear, after all. "What?" was what he managed.

"Yeah." The lackluster smile returned. "So, are you an orthopedic surgeon or a neurosurgeon?"

"Neurosurgeon," he automatically answered, then stared at her. "How did you know?"

"The X-rays," was Doctor Weston's inexplicable answer. "I'll show you in a bit," she said as Stephen went to retort. "We should get introductions out of the way. Drink more water."

Stephen frowned at her, but his head was still complaining and for that reason alone he drank instead of demanding further answers that moment. At least the light was becoming more bearable.

In the meantime, Doctor Weston called to the others, "He's fully awake now. Take a break for introductions and water."

One of the women, who was in her mid-forties, he guessed, with thick straight black hair pulled back, and a rich coppery brown skin that appeared in tight and worried lines across her face, shifted in discomfort. She adjusted her narrow-rimmed glasses then looked over to the wall, and Stephen followed her gaze to see a camera in the corner. "How long have we been working?" she asked; she also had an English accent.

"About five hours," Doctor Weston said after looking at her watch. "You should be okay for a few minutes."

"I think so. I have to wait for the centrifuge to finish, anyway," said the third woman, and the tallest of the three women (though maybe it was her natural curly hair giving her extra height). Her white lab coat contrasted sharply against her rich umber skin under the bright fluorescent lights, and just like the others, she looked stressed and tired. She appeared somewhere about his age and was definitely American, with the slightest hint of a southern twang in her voice.

The final one in the room, a balding man with salt-and-pepper hair and perhaps in his mid-forties or early fifties, stepped forward from his work station first. His complexion was a flushed pink and he wore thick lenses, but they did nothing to hide his bright green irises. "How are you feeling?" He spoke with a heavy German accent.

Stephen grimaced. "I've been better," he answered as he was surrounded by the four of them.

"We know what it feels like," the African-American woman replied. "I'm Doctor Jada Ferguson. Hematologist, University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center, Houston."

"Doctor Meera Mahajan," said the other unnamed woman. "Pathologist with a specialty in cytopathology, from St Bartholomew's Hospital in London."

"I'm from London, too," Doctor Weston added. "Though from St Thomas' Hospital. Cardiothoracic surgeon."

"And I'm Doctor Steffen Baar," said the man. "I work as a pharmaceutical chemist for Bayer in Wuppertal, in western Germany."

Stephen wrapped his mind around this new information as they introduced themselves and started trying to connect the pieces of this (terrifying) puzzle together. After they finished speaking, he cleared his throat and said, "Doctor Stephen Strange. Neurosurgeon, Metro-General, New York."

Doctor Ferguson made an affirmative noise. "I read your latest publication not that long ago. It was fascinating."

"I've read yours as well," Stephen said, then looked at the others. "I've read publication papers from all of you within the last three years." And there was a reason he remembered their names; they were all brilliant studies and clearly experts in their specialties. Why the fucking hell were they all here?

His face must have reflected his thoughts, because Doctor Mahajan said, "Whoever brought us here wants us to work." She glanced over her shoulder, then added, "Which is apparent." She then opened her mouth, paused, then shut it.

Stephen frowned. "Work on what, exactly?"

Doctor Weston also looked over towards the camera, then said, "Our job is to keep an unknown patient alive. And you've been drafted."

Tagging @walkin-in-the-cosmos (though it’s not tagging right) and @queenofalotofdifferentworlds as requested in the original prompt post.

Full disclosure: In terms of writing I concentrate more on plot and worldbuilding and not really the development of romance. Whenever this serial ends, it'll likely end on an ambiguous, open ending to interpret the relationship's route to the reader's pleasure (what we once labeled "gen or pre-slash" stories, not sure if that's used anymore). It'll definitely not explore anything remotely sexual beyond your usual PG-13 innuendo (if that). So if that's not what you're looking for in this prompt fill you can ignore the rest of the series :)

But if the serial does interest you and you want to be tagged in the next post, I'm starting the clean slate with this first one. Just leave a comment expressing interest in being notified/tagged for the serial, though I'm afraid I have no planned update schedule.

[theoriginalladya]

WIP Whenever

Just part of an idea that I’ve been toying with all night.  We’ll see if it shakes out in the final wash or not.  Needs A LOT of work if I keep it in the final draft.

~~~~

War is hell.  

With the bomb defused and Tuchanka safe once more, the shuttle flight back to the Normandy happens in silence.  For that, he’s eternally grateful.  His thoughts are focused inward, memories of another departure, another loss, another face.  The ache it left behind has faded over time, but kicks back to life easily enough.  By the time Cortez lands in the shuttle bay, it’s all he can do just to exit.  He stows his armor in his locker and leaves the weapons for Cortez and Vega to go over before jumping onto the lift and heading up.  He doesn’t wait for Kaidan or Tali, and neither call for him to do so.  

Fifteen minutes later, report written and sent off to Hackett and Victus, he strips down and hops into the shower.  Long minutes pass, the water sluicing over his body, the steam filling the small room until he can barely see over at the mirror.  Fiery hot, the thought it might burn away the memories is ridiculous, but something he can’t stop.  By the time it runs cold, he accepts that loss and exits.

He dresses quickly, opting for something more casual this time but still sporting his N7 stripes and logo for a semi-professional look.  The uniform – the fatigues, even – make the memories worse at the moment.  Before leaving, he checks his messages; a reply back from Victus, pretty much as expected, given what he knows of the turians, but nothing from Hackett yet.  There’s another message from an unexpected source.  Not in the mood to deal with it on the heels of the Tuchanka mission, he downloads it to his omni-tool for later.  Exiting the cabin, he disregards the lift, and climbs down through the maintenance shafts to the CIC.  No one is surprised by the maneuver – he’s done it before – and by the time he arrives, Traynor informs him that Admiral Hackett is on comms for him.

His debrief with the admiral takes five minutes or less which is good, as far as Caleb is concerned, because with so many quarian admirals aboard at the moment and all of them seemingly needing to use the War Room for their purposes, he has no doubt ears are listening. Afterward, he heads back out to the CIC and catches the lift down to the engineering level.  He knocks at Kaidan’s door, but there’s no response, so he retraces his steps to the crew deck, ducking into the port side observation lounge.

The room is quiet when he enters, save for some soft music coming from the system near the bar.  Walking over, Caleb switches it to something slower, more somber with a bluesy sort of feel, then he turns to the bar.  Tucked away on the lower shelf, behind Vega’s favorite brand of tequila and Donnelly’s scotch, is an unassuming bottle with no label, no brand. He snags this between his fingers, carefully removing it without knocking it against the others then hunts for a pair of glasses.  He pours two-fingers full in each before closing it and setting it on the top of the bar.  Just as the glass hits the counter, the door whooshes open and he glances over as Kaidan walks in.  Taking one glass in hand, he lifts it in his direction.  “You’re just in time.”

Kaidan doesn’t even blink.  His steps slow as he nears, as if he’s afraid he’s interrupting something, but Caleb nudges the other glass in his direction.  “It’s for you,” he reassures him.

He frowns, but accepts the glass.  “Not exactly a mission I’d call worth celebrating,” he says.

“Not celebrating,” Caleb replies.  He lifts his glass, tilting it slightly at the empty seat next to Kaidan.  “May you be in heaven a half hour before the Devil knows you’re dead,” he murmurs. He downs the drink all at once. Kaidan, he notices, follows suit. When both glasses are back on the bar, he fills them again.

“That was a hell of a mission,” Kaidan says when the glass is nudged back at him a moment later.  One eyebrow arches slightly as he asks, “You … aren’t trying to get me drunk, are you?”

Caleb snorts, caps the bottle and puts it back on the shelf behind him before he replies.  “Not today,” he promises with a soft chuckle.  This time when he lifts the glass, he says, “Sláinte mhaith.”  This time, he takes a sip before setting the glass down.

“Cheers.”  He, too, only takes a small sip.  “So?”

“So.”  Caleb pulls up his omni-tool and opens the message he downloaded earlier.  “Got one more toast left in you?” he asks absently as he skims over it.  The minute he saw the sender’s tag, he suspected its origin.  He hates it when he’s right sometimes.  Timing.  Why today, of all days?  Turning his attention back to Kaidan, he asks, “Do you remember that day back in Vancouver?”

A soft, inelegant snort of amusement escapes Kaidan’s lips.  “Shepard, I spent half my life in Vancouver,” he reminds him.  “I remember a lot of days back there.  You’ll need to be more specific.”

A wry smile twists at Caleb’s lips.  “After the Battle of the Citadel,” he clarifies.  “At the memorial.”

The memorial.  Kaidan’s eyes drop to stare at the liquid in his glass.  “Yeah,” he replies softly.  “I remember.”  When he glances back up, he adds, “I was thinking about Ash, too.”

“I figured as much.”  Caleb takes another sip.  “Do you remember the woman I was speaking with as you and your parents arrived that day?”

Kaidan frowns, head tilting slightly.  A moment later, he replies, “I remember … someone, but I not the face.”

“About five foot eight, short dark hair, brown eyes.”

“You’re going to have to narrow it down a bit more than that.”

Caleb swirls the liquid in his glass, stares at the motion.  “A freshly minted second lieutenant by name of Williams.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb sees Kaidan freeze.  “Lieutenant? Williams?”

“Younger sister,” he explains.  “She headed off to basic shortly after Ashley joined the Normandy.  Right before Virmire, I’d sent a message off to Anderson and Hackett trying to stir up something to get Ash the promotion she deserved.”  The rest of the drink goes down in one fell swoop after that and he sets the glass aside. “When she … didn’t make it, they made sure Abby did.”

[stereolovers]

ok i hope this isnt weird bc it was a couple days ago BUT i saw ur tags on the post abt ocs and if u want to talk abt ocs i would absolutely love to hear about them!!!!

hi sorry this has taken so long! i keep coming back to it because i’m not entirely sure on how to describe each of them without like... saying too much!

so obviously i’m still working on editing everything, because i keep learning new information whenever i go down a wikipedia rabbithole, and because i’ve accidentally connected the dots many many times, so even though i’ve done a few drafts and stuff i’m still not 100% certain about everything (if things don’t make sense here it’s because i’m absolutely trying my best to not just dump everything about the character)

arlo is my main main character! i’m actually writing this entirely from his perspective, which is a biiiig change from what i’m used to.. but it’s weirdly fun because he’s very fun to write as he has certain ways of speaking (pats myself on the back for this one). he.. originally was a dishonored oc, which is Weird once i look back on that because he’s basically just shittier jindosh. because he can be. it’s a bit hard to explain his character without giving too much away, but since he’s my main Dude, he goes through a lot of good development throughout the story while also (un)knowingly helping everyone else out that he previously fucked up. i don’t want to say that he gets redeemed, because not everyone should be, but he definitely realizes a lot of shit. yeah he’s cool.

ace is actually an older oc of mine that i brought over because this originally wasn’t supposed to be a Big Thing, but she’s here now and i love her slightly more evil personality... as they’re all Bad in some way. i just like antagonists way more so.. everyone’s shitty. she’s like my main character, a little less than arlo, but she’s still very important and shows up the most. she really just Appears. that’s her thing. and also in this universe there is a (somewhat) logical and scientific (not really) explanation for her blue eye

crystal is... something else. her name is inspired from a lady my mom went to school with (she gave me both crystal’s name and will’s). i’m still working on her character, but i enjoy her as she’s kinda the breath of fresh air in this group of determined evil backstory ocs (she’s an antagonist too, as they all are. she’s carefree evil... chaotically loving. yknow? i love her despite the fact that she needs more development.

malachite is one of the most important characters in this, as she’s basically the most level-headed of the group, and really is the brain of the entire story.... she does A Lot. like a lot. everyone (excluding celia and, technically, montgomery) has like a niche of science that they excel in, along with other things. everyone kinda invents something important during this, that helps another character in the future with their plot progression, if that makes sense. and malachite is very very important! she literally creates wireless communication, gps tracking, and with the help of crystal she crafts ‘phones.’ they’re not called phones of course, but she does, and she’s great! she also creates boats! she’s a ship captain and absolutely loves it. crystal & her & ace (they’re kinda all a Group) hang out on her ship frequently, and they’ll just enjoy each other’s company. crystal & her are girlfriends and they’re just wonderful.

will is great, and even though it’s really arlo’s story, he actually goes through the most change throughout. and it’s good change! even if he’s not described to be there, or talking in a scene, chances are he’s actually in the background...he’s like a walking dictionary definition for irony- he absolutely Hates being known and seen and being in crowds, etc, you get it. but get this. his name is will durness. wilderness. this is another name my mom gave me out of the blue (his development throughout the story isn’t like, oh, this guy now can do public speaking and is comfortable in crowds, because imo that’s not realistic. instead its more like how can he accept that other people enjoy his company, and want to be around him? he allows himself to have friends and to feel safe around them. and i love him)

those ^ five knew each other at aronose (which, without making this even longer, is basically a Huge and Important and Prestigious science trade school type thing. it’s cool and basically what every dark academia fan wants), and after a mysterious four years in which Things happen they all reconvene in interesting ways, and discover how they’ve all kinda been intertwined in this Thing. and then they help each other. it’s cool! i promise.

montgomery is the worst of everyone, which is saying a lot when they’re all antagonists. he’s the main reason everything that happens.... happens, and [spoilers for a big part of my story just in case you don’t want to read it.. don’t know why i’m talking like i’m actually gonna upload it when it’s done but you never know] even after he’s gone, his presence is still like... there. his thing is just... manipulation, but in different ways. he just Knows how to talk to people. and all the rest of the characters have to deal with his lingering Ideals and Things. which is cool. everyone’s gotta work through that! yay for character development. and he’s the duke, so he can do basically whatever he wants (and he WILL remind you many times of that fact.) he’s kinda got his eyes on everything and everyone. i don’t really like to describe my ocs by comparing them to other existing characters, but he’s like if you somehow combined peter lukas and (sorry for this) h*ndsome jack. yeah he’s definitely a very fun character but man is he hard to write which is kinda funny cause like. he’s my oc lol. he only married celia for the status and she definitely knows that (but i promise there was once a time where they actually loved each other)

celia is possibly my most underdeveloped character out of everyone, but she’s still important to the story! she’s the duchess, and yet we don’t really see much of her in person until probably.... halfway through the story. she hates everyone, but mostly montgomery (lol) and arlo, for numerous reasons. they hate her too so it works out ig. i don’t have much to say about her oops

i just realized how dump-y this is... but i have an unfortunate time trying to describe everyone. somehow. yeah hope this somewhat made sense! i think.. honestly their pinterest boards / tags on my oc blog / spotify playlists do a lot for them