#wip: stars and ships

[oh-no-another-idea]

Find the word tag

The kind @talesofsorrowandofruin tagged me many moons ago to find remember, recall, forget and overlook -- thank you! Let's see what we've got in Stars and Ships today, on account of me pulling that document up and actually writing in it again two days ago!

Remember: {Quin POV}

Aaliyah, Quin’s mother and sister and friend rolled into one. He couldn’t remember a life without her; he didn’t want to.

Recall: {Jax POV}

Aaliyah laughed and them seemed to recall she was feeling melancholy and glared again. Jax stepped into her space, slow enough that she could move or push him away. She didn’t. Holding her gaze, he reached down, leaning a little, to her thigh holsters. She didn’t breathe as he gently released her knives one at a time and straightened, setting them aside. She was waiting when he turned back to her, arms winding around his waist, eyes large and vast. Jax slid one arm around her shoulders and cupped her head with the other, the fabric of her scarf cool beneath his shaky hand.

Forget: {Quin POV}

Quin sighed. “Nearly blow people up one time, and they never let you forget it.” “Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke to me?” “Whatever,” Quin said, trying not to smile.

Overlook: {Quin POV}

Darting a look over his shoulder—Jax was shepherding everyone toward the hatch—Quin climbed up inside, doing his best to overlook the twitch of pain from his leg. When they were away and safe, he’d go bother the mechanic about it again. Right now, he had bigger problems.

I'll tag @avrablake @imbrisvastatio @vsnotresponding @aalinaaaaaa @author-a-holmes @charlesjosephwrites @kitsandkats-writing and anyone else who wants to look for the words welcome, wander, wish, and will! Go crazy! 🌈

[zeearts]

wip; yaoqing trio do not separate

[lucabyte]

sometimes everything just sucks real real real bad

[julia-jck]

WIP for a short thing I'm doing

Showing this now as I know I won't have anything finished for a long while cause job

A 4th character will join in this, but I'm not sure who yet. Probably Cross tbh

[chyarui]

I can’t stop- I love these two so much they make me so mad

another quinobi work in progress. starting to see a trend yet?

Im not 100% happy w their faces yet, and obv quinlan is missing his whole lower half, but hey that’s a problem for future me

[v-thinks-on]

“What’s a logical gentleman like you doing in a place like this?”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at Jim, who merely smiled and slid into the empty seat beside him.

“Your best Vulcan tea for my charming companion,” Jim said to the woman behind the bar of the little deep space outpost where their ships had briefly docked.

“Admiral, there is no need for you to order tea on my behalf,” Spock protested, bemused by the illogical human gesture.

“I wouldn’t invite you back to my quarters without at least buying you a drink first.”

“Very well, Admiral, then I accept.”

[luna-the-bard]

Uhhhh so I’ve been. Drawing a lot lately.

I think last time I posted was like over two weeks ago? So yeah there’s a bit of a backlog.

I’m honestly not sure what else to say as an intro so I’m just gonna. Dump a bunch of art here real quick and if it doesn’t all fit then maybe I’ll make two posts or something. There WILL be rambling. Anyways-

I spent like 6 hrs last night studying one of my Boothill screenshots because I’ve been meaning to learn how to draw him.

Little did I know I was gonna go back to it today again to fix his legs. I can’t believe that asshole took 6+ hours of my life how dare he (I want to draw him again)

I took a break from drawing him somewhere in the middle there only to draw him in my sketchbook instead lol. don’t look at that gun it’s not there shh.

There’s also a new oc I’ve been working on. (Don’t mind the ref screenshot in the bg this is a wip lol)

Playing around with the idea of a princess who slays her own dragon, so when the rescuers come, their job is already done (it’s okay, they can be her getaway drivers instead). Named her Lady Eithel, although her full name and title is “Princess Eithelmira of the House of Thorns”, since she is part of her planet’s/kingdom’s royal family.

Im also putting her on the path of Beauty, because it makes more sense for her than any currently playable paths in hsr, and we know that even after the fall of an Aeon, their paths can linger (as seen with Trailblaze, Order, etc). Also, it not being a playable path means I can do whatever I want with it, and boy am I gonna have my fun >:) She’s gonna be finding Beauty in all kinds of things, folks. I’m gonna throw her around the universe into all kinds of situations (probably).

Eithel’s home planet, Struna-5, are worshippers of Idrila, and it’s said their the planet’s moon was a blessing from THEM. Struna-5 is divided into several major kingdoms, like Pelionore (that Eithel hails from) and their neighbor, Aurora. My vision for the planet overall is a combination of scifi and fantasy/medieval aesthetics. (Not unlike what Nimona did with their worldbuilding, you should go check out the art book for that film, it’s online for free)

Eithel’s been incredibly challenging for me to draw, despite having the same old traits I usually tend to give my ocs. But there’s a certain vibe I’m going for with her and it’s been hard to capture, I suppose.

Some more art of her:

She is 5’2 so if you’re over 6ft tall this is probably what you see any time she talks to you x)

I also really like the sketch I had for that wip from above.

There’s also a few earlier studies of her, including the first time I managed to capture her face/feel right:

I’ve been studying MsLeeSketchbook ‘s (on twitter) art a lot for her, I really enjoy how they paint.

I think I’m getting to the image per post limit, so have this alt lighting mockup from the wip:

I’ll put the smut and other stuff in a separate post, ig.

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Star AU (inspired by fanart)

Roksu blankly stares into the sky.

He has nothing left. His parents were dead, his uncle sold him, and even the slavers and slaves have passed away beneath the cliff, leaving Roksu at the top, alone. There was nothing to do but stare at the rising sun. It looked beautiful, he knew.

The leftover stars still linger in the sky brightly. He could begin to walk back to civilization at any moment. The stolen cloak sits heavy on his small shoulders, the weight of living pressing down on every inch of him, making every breath struggle to reach the air beyond his lungs. The cold air dried out his throat and made him want to hold his breath but he kept inhaling, in order to exhale again. All to keep living.

He did not ask, 'why me?'

It was a stupid question.

Things happened. Even the slaves in the carriage that went over the cliff knew that. It was simply bad luck. He didn't get dealt a good hand, but that didn't mean he would give up. Frustration burns his heart yet it fuels it all the same, like how the constant combustion of a stars core keeps it from collapsing in on itself. He lived through that frustration, and for that he was grateful.

He's seen many on his same position fall and succumb, sooner or later than himself. Like watching alternate versions of his life, some more and less prosperous. Hes one of many that have tried and failed, but since he is still alive, he must keep trying. Until he fails and dies, or until the day he succeeds.

The stars retreat from the warm glow on the horizon, subdued in that light. He wonders, how do they do it? They get hidden every day, but every night they come to rise again, bright as ever. They'll never reach the brightness of the sun, but in their combined effort, they shine in such a beautiful and unique way.

He reaches up towards those retreating stars and looks at them from in between his fingers. If he could hold on, would they keep shining? Let it shine in his palm, safe in a cage of small pale fingers, allowed to shine whenever and wherever.

Closing his fingers into a fist, he lets himself imagine that he caught one of those stars. Pulled it from the sky and held it gently. Would it be warm? Or hot, too hot for him to hold and burning his flesh in his arrogance? He lingers on that thought and looks at his closed fist, skeletal bones poking through his skin to reveal knuckles and his skinny wrist.

His hand is about to retreat when a light flashes behind his fist. He quickly pulls it back to see a bright and colorful light streaking across the sky. It screams in its decent and he can hear violent pops with flashes of purple and red overtop a luminous white.

A shooting star.

A star?... no way, he didn't make it fall— could he?

He pulls his cloak to himself and runs in the direction as it's falling. His bare feet pad quietly and quickly against the unforgiving dirt road until it gives way to grass and rocks. He holds the cloak to himself with one hand and his breathing grows heavier with each step, a pain twinging in his side and making him wince, but he pushes his feet forward still.

The star shines brightly above him, like a guiding light, and the star is loud in the way that everything around him grows quiet in comparison.

He nearly trips when he steps into a hole in the ground and his ankle twists, but he just touches the grass with his palms and pushes himself forward, running faster when adrenaline pumps into his veins at the striking pain.

He has questions but his eyes trail the star and its long tail. He has no mind outside of the shooting star which he follows. It screeches and he wonders if it will be a monster, ready to close its jaws around his neck. The bright star and its tail dips closer yet to the ground and he holds his breath as it soars downward suddenly.

He hides behind the lone oak tree on the hill as the star crashes into the valley.

He holds his breath. Inching closer to the tree, he presses himself against the bark and grips the cloak with an impassioned hand. In the crater is a white lump.

There's no room for regret. Not now.

The white lump is as bright as the star, making it difficult to see properly, but he doesn't need to worry long as it stars to dim rapidly.

The white turns to grey turns to black, and the colorful lights disappear in the wind. The morning glow reflects off the dull black lump and makes it colorful in a different way, with oranges and a rising pink.

Roksu's eyes widen at the sight. His heart beats heavily in his chest, burning from running so quickly. It pounds at the questions running through his mind.

Did he make it fall?

Will it ever glow again?

Is this his fault?

How did this happen?

What should he do?

That last one makes itself particularly known at the front of his mind, but he comes up with no answer.

The lump shifts in its spot in the crater. Roksu clamps his hands around his mouth to smother his sharp inhale.

Is it... alive?

Every fiber in his body understands that he should be running away, hiding, anything to get him away and out of sight from this strange thing that emerged in their world. Except that isn't what he does.

He watches the rising back of the lump.

It's breathing.

The back falls.

He leans further into the oak of the tree and looks closer at the weird thing.

It inhales. The back falls.

... is it hurt?

He bites his lip and digs the fingers he has pressed against the tree into that stiff bark, waking up to the sting of his flesh being bitten and scratched.

When the black lump- about the size of a crouching man- doesn't move outside of the small movement of inhaling and exhaling, Roksu gathers his courage and leaves the safety behind the tree.

He makes sure not to trip as he steps carefully down the steep hill. His ankle throbs painfully.

The sun is over the horizon now, baring its light down against the star in the crater.

Managing not to trip on a dislodged rock, he skips the rest of the way using gravity and winces when his foot gives out at the last second.

He exhales, breathing heavy. Pulling the cloak against his collar, he stands up and continues moving toward the star in the crater.

The star's back rises and falls steadily. It seems to be sleeping. That may be for the best, Roksu thinks to himself.

He reaches the edge of the crater, more wide than it is deep, and steps lightly into the exposed dirt. It digs into his feet painfully, still holding a residual warmth. Even if it's a little hot, it isn't enough to be burn him, so he keeps going.

The star, the creature, rouses slightly as he approaches. His mind wants to stop but his heart encourages his continued approach.

He steps up to the star, creature, about a few feet away. It's bigger than he thought it was and smaller than he assumed it'd be.

... Should he kick it?

Thankfully he doesn't need to do that, as the star inhales deeply and shifts upward, small bits of dirt falling off its back as it rises.

Black eyes bear down on Roksu.

The star looks like a man. No, a teenager approaching manhood, with short black hair and eyes that reflect the night star, devoid of stars.

The lump was actually the teenager's own cloak, curled around his black attire and black boots.

Roksu looks up at that young face and blinks. This... is a star?

It didn't fit his expectations, but the appearance also oddly fit the name, 'star.' He knew that he wouldn't be able to think of a star without thinking of this teenager again after this.

Roksu's reddish brown eyes meet the onyx eyes. They burrow into each other, trying to dig up answers, yet both finding none.

The onyx eyes blink first and look away from the intense gaze of the kid. It, he, begins to observe his surroundings instead.

Roksu quietly stares at this strange being who emerged from a blistering star.

The star looks back at him.

"안녕하세요?"

Roksu listens to the strange words of the star and finds it extremely funny.

"I don't speak Star, sorry." Still, he puts effort into his response. Even if it was extremely likely that the star wouldn't understand him.

"... 무엇? 나는 당신을 이해할 수 없습니다."

Roksu nods. Yes, there is a language barrier. That means the star won't know he is the one who pulled him, it, from the sky.

He points at himself to get introductions started.

"Roksu." The star blinks at him, then slowly points at himself, unsure.

"... 최한."

"Choi Han," Roksu repeats. The star nods. Roksu points at the star and says it again. "Choi Han," then points at himself. "Roksu."

The star licks his lips and repeats it. "Roksu."

He nods, accepting the attempt. Now they have been introduced. That's a good start. Who knows, maybe 'Choi Han' means 'star.'

Roksu's head falls and he notices his bare feet, one swollen and still throbbing immensely. Hopefully it wasn't a serious injury and he could still walk on it.

Wiggling his toes and finding them painfully functional, he decides not to worry about it.

Choi Han is too busy looking at Roksu's long red hair to notice. He looks awestruck at its color, which made a little sense. It wasn't a terribly common color, and his shade of red was actual red, not closer to orange or pink. The dirty and scrappy nature of it wasn't flattering but neither were his equally scrappy clothes. The only thing saving his appearance was the slaver's cloak that he stole.

Though, maybe the star would be awestruck by any shade of hair. Who knows what a star is used to seeing, anyway.

Roksu takes advantage of Choi Han's dazed state to grab his hand and pull. He doesn't budge from his spot- weighing more than the thin Roksu- but it gets the message through.

"Follow."

The star is pulled.

Roksu climbs out of the crater and struggles to not think about how much his foot hurts. He had already ran on the injury and now he was going to walk all the way back to civilization on it, too. He might as well be asking to get his entire foot amputated.

Still, he hides the pain, hiding the way he favors one side as he walks, thinking instead about how to teach someone how to talk and read their language. Could Roksu learn how to speak star? It seemed that there would be a lot of work to do in order to communicate.

As he's pondering that, he tugs on Choi Han's hand, intending to face the hill he had come from.

An arm slips under his legs and the hand in his grasp falls away without any effort to hold onto his shoulders.

Roksu stiffens like a log.

Choi Han smiles at him.

"내가 널 안아도 괜찮았으면 좋겠어."

He frowns but swings his feet in the hold. Now he doesn't have to risk making his injury worse, but he has to be carried by a star. It felt shameful to make such a being do manual labor.

Even if it's shameful, Roksu slowly relaxes into the sturdy chest, wrapping an arm around the star's neck. His other arm points up the hill.

Choi Han gleams, resembling a twinkling star, and Roksu turns away from that happy expression. What a weird guy-star.

-----------

"The prophecy! Your majesty, the prophecy for the next decade has been delivered!" A priest runs into the throne room and all but collapses to his knees, bowing his head to the red carpet.

King Zed grips his armrest. It was good and bad news to receive a prophecy. A prophecy meant that a significant event would be occurring. Since the priest said it was estimated to predict the next decade, that meant that the event would spell out the fate of the next ten years.

It did not predict anything past that.

However, most 'significant events' regarded wars and famines. The length of time would be how long the war would last, or how long the famine would stretch before it broke. So, whatever the prophecy said, it would definitely be a big deal.

"Speak."

The priest shivers at the cold tone of the king. He lifts his head and bangs it against the floor to gather his wits and remember the words of the prophecy. It wasn't hard- it was incredibly profound, both alike to other prophecies and nothing like any prophecy they've received before.

"I will now repeat the prophecy, your majesty. It reads,

"The boy which falls a star

holds many burdens,

Speaks many lies,

And possesses a great truth.

A war, six stars that wish to take the sky,

The red crown which fights to subdue.

Ten years of darkness, nigh.

Bleed, oh boy of red, to lay the earth with

Crimson Tides, save the pitiful ones and give rise to the star of Night."

The priests low voice slowly rolls over the prophecy's words. The king listens and taps his finger on his armrest.

"... Call the Crown Prince."

The attendant waiting by the door hears this and promptly leaves the room. A brief silence is broken by the low timber of the old man sitting on his regal throne.

"Priest," The king says. "What are your thoughts?"

"My thoughts... Your majesty, I believe we must find the boy who felled a star. He will play a key role in the future, I'm sure of it."

"Then how should we go about it?"

The priest hesitates.

"Do we summon all boys to the palace and ask them if they've felled a star? What age range should we expect a boy to fit in?" The king mildly pokes holes in the priests answer. "A seven year old is as much of a boy as a fifteen year old."

The priest bites his tongue, and the king continues.

"When does a boy become a man? Should we exclude mature children and include lousy adults?"

The king tsks. This is why he called for his son to come here. Speaking with the priest is no good.

"Royal Father," a teenager roughly the age of seventeen enters the throne room and bows politely according to his status. "You called for me?"

"Yes. Alberu, listen to the prophecy for the next ten years and tell me what you believe our next action should be."

A prophecy is a huge deal, but the king comments on it as if it is no more than a small squabble that occurred in the town square. The crown prince also doesn't blink at the news.

He approaches his father and stands off to his side, looking down at the priest, who still has his head in the red carpet.

"You may speak," Alberu prompts the priest.

The priest repeats the prophecy again word for word, willing himself not to stutter in the presence of the two most influential figures in the kingdom.

"Mm." Alberu hums. "That is a unique prophecy."

"Why do you say that?" The king inquires. Alberu speaks minimally, as if answering on paper rather than to his father.

"The prophecy mentions a specific individual. It even goes as far as to list traits and achievements of the boy, as if asking us to find and accompany him in his path. Within seven centuries and hundreds of prophecies, none have spoken about a single person."

"What do you suppose we should do?"

"Find him. We should look from twelve to seventeen year old boys, particularly twelve year olds whose birthdays are near to pass. We don't know if the boy has felled a star yet, so we should leave a few months to give him that opportunity."

"We should look through the entire kingdom? That would take years."

Alberu smiles at the king, as if calmly correcting his father's words. "We have a few years at best to find the boy before the worst of the war is upon us, so we should do our best, Royal Father."

"That's right." The king nods. He stares down at the priest, who sweats cold. "Then, son. What if we don't ever find the boy?"

Alberu's smile remains on his lips, undisturbed. "Then we should do our best to support him, even if we don't know who he is."

"Correct."

Alberu lets his eyes fall on the sweating priest. Even if the priest is trembling, Alberu doesn't feel pity. It wouldn't make a difference.

The king waves a hand and the priest, as if sensing it, stands up and exits quickly with a rushed bow to pay his respects to both the current and future rulers.

With him gone, Alberu elaborates. "You'll be focusing on boys with red hair, won't you Royal Father?"

"That is obvious."

At that, the crown prince closes his eyes. He can't help but think, 'would it be so easy to find such a boy?' The description was both sorely lacking and extremely specific. He didn't know what to think about the prophecy's intention.

"Do you think we'll find him?"

Alberu smiles at that, opening his eyes and staring at the large door which shut behind the priest.

"We will. Definitely."

Somewhere, a fifteen year old boy with a red crown of hair and a newly fallen star begin to make their acquaintance.

----

I posted this to ao3! It's got 7 chapters now <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64101292

Fanart this fic idea was inspired by vvvvv also while I couldn't find the artist I did find that this isn't Cale! It's Diluc fanart from Genshin Impact-- which makes the shooting star in the sky make more sense..............

COUGH I'm still sending this out even though I did a fanart inspired fic from a different fandom than mine-

@fictionalcreator ~

[oh-no-another-idea]

Siblings Questions Tag!

Thank you for the tag from 84 years ago, @mysticstarlightduck! <3 I'm going to fill this one out for Jax and Quin from Stars and Ships 🚀

1. Who looks the most like Dad?

Both boys look like their dad, but Jax wins in this department. Slender but strong and wiry, with a long nose and the same twinkling eyes. He gets his dark wavy hair and olive toned skin from his dad as well, even though all they have left of the man is a single photograph. I think Jax doesn't mind looking so much like his deceased dad, but I also think he doesn't spend much if any time thinking about it.

2. Who looks the most like mom?

Quin! Although they don't have a record of what she looked like, Quin's face is more angular, his eyes darker and moodier, his smile wider, not that he spends much time smiling.

3. Who eats the most?

Hmm, I think it's about the same -- Jax loves a good snack and is always making sure Quin gets enough. (Especially since Quin has been known to lose himself in a project and forget to eat) They're both rather adventurous eaters.

4. Who has been on the weirdest situations?

I think the cake here would have to go to Jax, who gets himself in and out of trouble like a champion. If not for his younger brother, he'd probably be dead, honestly, in that he'd get involved in some huge fight, sex scandal, or celebration, and wind up getting killed for his charm and energy...thank goodness for Quin!

5. Who sleeps the most?

Quin, since he's still growing and a teenager. He'll stay buried in his bunk forever if no one's there to flip on the lights and yell at him about laundry.

7. Most stable romantic life?

Jax! He and his girlfriend Aaliyah aren't married in any legal sense of the word, but they act like it all the time and casually plan to stick together until they're both dead, so...married as far as anyone cares. Jax is always trying to coax Quin toward romance, but he just says he's young and hasn't met the right person yet, and who can argue with that?

8. Worst habit of each one?

Jax is always looking for better opportunities and has been known to leap before he looks -- he's rash/impulsive, which can be evened out occasionally by his good instincts and sense of loyalty, but not always.

Quin tends to isolate and withdraw and protect himself by keeping other out. If he doesn't get his hopes up, there will be nothing to crush.

9. Who's the most dramatic?

Oh god, can they tie? Jax is such a drama queen, he lives for it. He loves causing a scene or lamenting fuel prices or coming up with commentary during a fight. That being said...Quin is perpetually gloomy and disdainful and sarcastic, and it shows.

10. Who had a weird phase?

I don't think either of them had a weird phase, unless you count the platform boot Quin was wearing for a time when his new prosthetic leg was a little longer than his biological one...

11. Best cook of the family?

The best cook of the family is Aaliyah, who actually knows how to cook a couple of things, but next to her, I guess it'd be Quin, who can read instructions. Jax doesn't believe in instructions.

12. Best memory together?

I'm not sure what that might be. Their earlier memories are usually tainted with sadness or accidents, but I think both of them would pick some vague mashup of more recent days -- both of them and their ship, free to fly from one corner of the galaxy to the other, narrowly making their escape in a suspenseful shootout, laughing gleefully together when they made it to safety.

13. Worst memory together?

For Jax, that would be the accident and subsequent days afterwards when Quin lost his leg. Quin, who doesn't remember that, would pick when Aaliyah was hunting Jax and the two brothers were hiding in the ship they had at the time, trying not to be found and killed.

14. Dream trip together

They're pretty worldly (galaxyly?) already, so I think the dream trip would be to a place where they could put down a couple of roots and not go anywhere for a time. Jax loves a good vacation spot, and Quin would go anywhere as long as he can fly out of there when he's ready. But preferably without sand, since it gets into his foot joint without fail.

15. Would they rather not being able to shower for a month or have the same clothes for a month?

Jax, who cares more about fashion, would pick clothes over showering. Quin, who only wears the same pair of trousers normally, would take the showers.

16. Who's the older one?

Jax is older by eight years, but even so the two of them act like equals most of the time.

17. How would they describe each other in three words

Jax would say Quin is smart, stubborn, and wonderful

Quin would say Jax is charming, loyal, and aggravating

18. Role model?

This is so 🥰🥺🤢😊🤩🥰 but they're each other's role models. Crazy but true.

19. Who usually has the worst ideas?

Oh man. They use their few braincells together and make up ideas so bad they work. They're both very calculating and clever, so they have a great understanding of how things work before they decide to throw all that out the window. I guess Quin wins this one, based on how many of his ideas involve murder.

20. A GIANT insect is on the wall, who's taking care of it?

Jax screams, Quin jumps a foot into the air and lands on his bad leg and cursing the whole time, kills the bug and disposes of it. Only once the danger is over does Jax start lamenting that they could have captured it and released it if they weren't heartless souls, and then he gets out a snack because he expended a lot of energy and promptly forgets the whole thing.

I'll tag @reneesbooks @indecentpause @talesofsorrowandofruin @magic-is-something-we-create @charlesjosephwrites @thescatteredscribbles and anyone else with a set of siblings to yak about!

[raphaerolo]

Last Line Challenge

I've got tagged by a whole bunch of lovely folks over a course of many days @loverboy-havocboy @bluemaskedkarma @merlyn-bane @julijuli77

First kiss bingo meant I haven't been writing or drawing much, but today I actually was doing stuff! So I got both drawing and writing to share

First drawing, and i've been really compelled by Satine and Cody lately

Imagine if I were a tad better at drawing medieval clothing, but like... they're cute. Devotion to the crown clashing with the crown's devotion to peace . Idk. I think it's nice.

And then writingg, from my outsider pov codywan fic, featuring Cody and my OCs gossiping

“She doesn’t need to run!” Uumna said. “The boy she likes is Darla’s son, and they’re just down the road.”

“Darla’s son?” Warren asked. “Isn’t he already with Garik’s daughter?”

“Oh, they’ll never last.” Cody cut in. “Garik’s daughter wants to explore and he wants to stay.”

Uumna laughed. “Ahh but enough about the children. What about you, Commander, do you have a girlfriend?”

Cody laughed but with more unease than before. “Ah, no. No girlfriend to speak of.” He scratched the back of his neck.

Uumna could see he was hiding gossip from her and dug in coyly. “Anyone you like?”

“If this is you trying to set me up with your daughter…” Cody warned, smiling. “But, uh, I suppose there is someone I like,” he rolled his eyes at the word, “but they’re also GAR and in a different deployment.”

Warren grimaced. That’s rough. The GAR had rules about relationships, and generally that rule was ‘No.’ Especially interdeployment relationships. How very unfortunate for the commander.

Warren is my little baby boy oc. He has never met kenobi and does not know the deal. It's great.

Tagging no pressure, and idk who's been tagged recently, @tapemonkey21 @bladelei @anakachow @anxiousotters @autumnalfallingleaves @plo-koons-favorite-padawan @why-cant-turtles-fly @sillywizardvoice

[w1yre]

more animatic panels

[invisibl3museum]

Whats ur opinion on Argenti x Boothill?

They mean everything to me

[happy-thou9hts]

sssssilly things and wip ehehe (๑>◡<๑)

[asmodeauxx]

yuri wip actually

[a-most-beloved-fool]

For the writing prompts;

19. For luck - Rom and Leeta

"And then," Bashir was saying - though in truth, Rom was paying only half attention, far too busy thinking about Leeta - "she came right up to me, and kissed me on the lips!"

"Oh, she did, did she?" Chief O'Brien said, scoffing good-naturedly.

"It's true!" Bashir insisted, though he didn't look insulted by the Chief's doubt. He was smiling into his glass, seeming quite delighted by the disbelieving frown on O'Brien's face.

Rom didn't quite understand what was supposed to be so 'unbelievable' about the story. In fact - "It seems pretty believable to me," he said. "Doctor Bashir's always kissing beautiful women." (Including, at one point, Leeta - though not anymore, Rom thought with some pleasure.)

"Yes, but this one was out of his league," the Chief said, batting his hand playfully across the table.

Bashir just smiled bashfully, ignoring the swipe. "Ah, well. You're right about that. She wasn't really interested in me after all. Turns out, she'd just misconstrued the human concept of a 'good luck kiss'".

"Ohh! A 'good luck kiss'!" Rom said eagerly. Then, after a pause, "Uh, what's a 'good luck kiss'?"

The Chief sat back, idly crossing his arms. "Well, it's pretty much exactly what it sounds like. It's a kiss that you give someone to wish them luck."

"Oh," Rom said, considering that. Luck was always a good thing to have. Perhaps... "Oh! Leeta!" He stood, sending his chair clattering backwards. "I'll be back!" he shouted, then raced from Quark's bar, ignoring his brother's parting shout out dismay.

He needed to find Leeta.

--

"Leeta! Waaaait!" Rom hollered, shuffling through the crowded promenade as quickly as he could manage, chasing after her familiar voice. "Leeta! I need to give you something!"

This would be easier, he thought, if Bajorans could hear as well as Ferengi could.

But, at last, Leeta stopped, turning to find him. "Rom? Rom, what's the matt-"

The rest of her sentence trailed off into a hum as Rom reached up, pulling her down to plant a kiss square on her lips. One of her hands cupped Rom's cheek, soft. Rom didn't really know how long a 'good luck kiss' was supposed to last for - he really should have gotten more details before running off (for example, does it need tongue? Bashir never specified.) - but he thought that this should satisfy it.

He pulled away, grinning toothily up at his wife. "Hi, Leeta," he said.

She smiled down at him, cheeks flushed and lovely as always. "Hi, Rom. What was that for?" she asked, looking bemused and delighted.

"It's a kiss," Rom said, perhaps unnecessarily. "For luck," he added. "It's a hoo-man tradition!"

"For luck? Rom," she asked, laughing, "what are you wishing me luck for?"

Rom blinked. "Uhhh... For your day?"

Leeta beamed at him, and then leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Well, I think it worked. I do feel pretty lucky now."

Rom grinned. "Me, too."

--

(also if anyone else wants to make a request, the ask game is here. i can't promise they'll get done as quick or be as long as this one is, though!)

[v-thinks-on]

Jim!

Admiral James Kirk awoke in a cold sweat. He bolted upright in bed on the Enterprise, his heart pounding and a painful sting in his side that wasn’t really his.

Spock! He called out with all the psychic powers he didn’t possess. Spock, do you read me?

Near the edge of consciousness and unconsciousness, he found Spock fighting to stay awake.

Spock! Jim called out again.

He felt Spock’s eyes flutter open. Jim… Spock projected, but he seemed distant and weak.  The pain spiked as he tried to move. Spock, just hang in there, Jim insisted, I’ll find you.