#(even though my boy is Not stg or eclipse)

[redsafalloutfan]

Had time today, so I got to colour one of my doodles from yesterday

[calicoartie]

(´･(00)･｀)

[the-last-cuddlebender]

Happy FFWF cuddles! 😊 What are the fluffiest things you've ever written, and why do you think they're the fluffiest?

HAPPY FFWF,  MY FRIEND!!!

oh this is incredibly difficult and took me quite a while to think about omg why must you do this to me, peaches?????

Hmmm...the fluffiest and why...

I am a sucker for Kataang taking care of each other, and I think that drives the majority of my fluff. Just the TLC, y’know? And happy crying. Oh gosh, happy crying. I think I’ve only managed to do it once in the readers with I’m Here, the whistle-speak fic that holds my heart on a string, but gosh do I love it when I write something sweet and a lil tear comes to my eye. What I’m writing usually isn’t that good when it happens, but I get so invested that it just comes out. It makes writing worth it to me💕

I really, really, REALLY love the fluff in Eyes of Ash from Aang bonding with the other young master airbenders right after he gets his tattoos. Aang having big brothers is my kryptonite I stg:

One of the bison landed on the cluster of young masters, and he pawed through the lump of bodies until he found the smallest, laughing one. He picked Aang up by his scruff between his teeth and grumpily shuffled away. Curling up, he held the boy in his front paws and looked almost like he was trying to hide his skyrider under his chin. He bared his teeth and growled at the pouting young masters climbing over him like an infestation.

Moonlit Stitches is my favorite fluff-piece that I’ve written, I think. I haven’t been able to duplicate the magic of that fic yet. It’s just the little things about describing how things feel and how things feel that I think make it so fluffy, if that makes sense. It takes the fluffy feel from the outside and puts it inside

Katara curled her hands into his robes and ran her fingers over the thick weave. The material was gentle and delicate as it slid under the pads of her fingers. It was thin but densely woven, and its many stitches made it welcoming to the touch. It was beautiful and vibrant from a distance, and it was reliable and sturdy even after years of abuse.

From afar, it looked untouched, but Katara felt around the dozens of bulging scars in the fabric. She had stitched up every one, and as she tilted her head, inviting him deeper, one of her hands sought out the patchwork of scars on his exposed torso up towards his shoulder. She had stitched up those, too. They were nearly invisible except for the welting bumps that they made under her fingers. They were proof of a thousand near-misses—flirts with what she didn’t like to think about. She had already seen it before. They broke and built him like wooden beams snapped and replaced by steel, like a broken bone fusing thicker than before.

One of his hands slid up her back and down the length of her arm, pulling her hand away from the evidence of bad memories. He kissed each of her knuckles while his other arm shifted around her waist.

And then he held their hands out like they were dancing.

Katara smiled. Aang didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His eyes spoke so much for him that he could live mute and never need to write his thoughts, but his smile was a wonder of nature, like sunshine curled across his face, and his laugh was a gift that he wanted to share with the world.

All the Spirits and the Ancients themselves could not keep her from the soul who would ever damage his smile.

Aang often got lost in his need to make her his, but Katara quickly learned that intimacy was the last thing that concerned. He wanted to kiss her and touch her. He wanted to make her smile at silly jokes and laugh at his antics. He wanted to need her—to train himself to make her his focus. Two people only ever belonged to one another if they did. It was never a matter of leaving a mark on the other person. It was him putting her mark on himself—him pulling her closer so that she might fill the void he wanted so desperately to fill with her.

He wanted to chase her, not to catch her but to give her reason to want to run with him.

And as he swayed her softly, she leaned into his lead until they were two pendulums dancing in the moonlight.

Aang being a little shit like in Dip in the Bed is always fluffy to me because smartass-ery is just adorable for some reason:

Aang’s smile was as bright as his eyes were gentle. They were half-lidded, too. His whole posture was a broken coil pretending to still be a spring, but that didn’t stop him from trying. He laid on his side and rested his face on one fist, eclipsing her in his shadow. He studied her like she was a painting he was seeing for the first time—like he was just now finding every hidden meaning buried behind each brushstroke.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Aang said, like he always did. His voice was warmer than his robe had been when it came off the fire. 

Katara stared for longer than she liked. Every part of her wanted to move. She couldn’t. Maybe all of this was a dream. Aang said he would be gone for a week at the least. It had been only a few days. He had to fly all the—

Aang touched her cheek and hummed their song. And though only his thumb brushed under her eye, the whole of her felt like it was hugged.

He was home early.

That bastard.

But the fluffiest of all, imo, is that which I haven’t released yet, and it’s a kindof essay-type post of all things😅 It’s a little rambling about "Avatar’s Love” and what I think it means (all a result of the TSR analysis lmao), and the whole of it makes me cry like a BABY and makes me so dang HAPPY every time oh my gosh:

...It was the same notes played to a different melody that was as familiar as it was new. It was the same partner in a different dance and a new song created together. Each beat of the song is different, and so is each step of the dance. There are an endless amount of ways to say ‘I love you’, and there are just as many infinite ways to say ‘I love you, too’. It can be someone standing silent beside you, or it can be someone not beside you filling your silence.

It was passing on a betrothal necklace as a gift to a daughter. The love is still there. It’s just in a different form—the same notes but rearranged with a new player creating a new song.

It’s a story coming to a close, but the longing for more is what makes it complete.

The song ends, but only for a while. Silence meant a moment to breathe...

(ALSO JUST EVERYTHING ABOUT MEET ME BY THE RIVER ON GOD I JUST SVNEOIUBVNERIPFBNDFB)

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Drunk Punch Love: INTERMISSION ARCHANGEL

Pairing: FemShep and Garrus Vakarian (Shakarian)

Rating: PG-13 (with some tossed F-bombs)

Summary: Their awkward, badass journey through saving the galaxy and accidentally falling in love

INTERMISSION ARCHANGEL: 143 Days

Garrus enjoyed the setup for jobs, and boy did he love the payoff, but there was one part that could really grind his plates.

The waiting.

To keep the crew safe and take the mercs off guard, they always got the right intel to set the gangs up. They'd make a killbox, lure them in, and use everything in their arsenal to knock 'em out before they even knew what was happening.

This hit, they were freeing an Asari captive from Eclipse. Well, she used to be one of them. But when Alla wanted out, Eclipse made it... difficult for her. The mercs were taking her out to this dock to be spaced, and Garrus and the team were waiting to stop that.

With them was Alla's half-brother, Oliver. His human mother had an affair with Alla's Eclipse mother when Ollie was a few years old. He didn't know about her until his mom was on her deathbed. Inconvenient timing, since just about the same time Eclipse almost got Alla killed, prioritizing a cash drop over her safety.

The night she was packing was the night Ollie called her on the extranet, and during their call Eclipse took her. Within the hour, Ollie quit his military post in the Alliance, because he'd be damned if he let his baby sister die.

So there they were, waiting, hiding in the overhang of the space dock and a few other key vantage points.

As far as their intel went, there was supposed to be a whole squad overseeing her execution, to make sure things went right. Apparently Alla knew too much for it to be any other way.

But once Eclipse got there, Garrus and co. would make sure to change that plan.

For now, they just twiddled their goddamn thumbs. Butler, his cover fire next to him, went real twitchy when he got bored.

Over the comms, though, he could tell a few others were getting antsy, too. Ollie most of all. "Christ, what if they bring her in her gear and there's other Asari? We can't shoot the wrong one."

Garrus tried to bring some levity. "Via, we just won't shoot the one who doesn't have a gun and isn't shooting at us. It'll be okay."

Butler added, "Anyway, Eclipse wouldn't have kept her in their gear. Trust me. I know." The scowl that Butler got made Garrus curious, but it probably wasn't the best time to ask. Anyway, it was easy to guess that this wasn't Nikolai's first Eclipse execution.

Much better at trying to keep spirits up, Sidonis piped in. "Hey, we got this, Via. We set up traps, hacked the doors, have some flash bangs and anti-biotic ammo. This is going to be a clean rescue. You'll get to meet your sister."

Ryel chuckled on the other end. "Hope you like her. If you didn't that'd be awkward." Garrus almost growled. Ryel could be a little shit sometimes.

"When we talked, she was ready to try to be a family. I don't give a shit if it was just because she wanted asylum. That's enough." Via sighed and added, "Anyway, I could see elcor theatre posters in her room. My mom loved them, too."

"Who would pay to see an elcor act?" Danit didn't seem as moved or amused as everyone else.

Gibbon cut in. "It's a matter of sentimentality for Oliver. When one misses a person, they attach to familiar memories. Though elcor acting is banal, his mother and Alla share the interest and therefore ties his sentimentality to both women."

"I think he was asking about the elcor part, not what it meant." Butler chuckled next to him. "But people like weird shit. My Nalah likes-"

"Hanar music, we know." Jawth was grumbling, but his voice got quieter as he added, "My brother used to have a pet Varren. Makes me bitter sometimes to shoot 'em."

"And Sidonis has all those old comic books. And Danit has his puzzlebox from his father. And Gibbon has his old STG tags, but just because he got to burn them. We all have our sentimental bullshit. Now stop crying or you idiots will set off my traps." Ro wasn't exactly one for these conversations, and Garrus wasn't surprised by his outburst.

But luckily, no one gave a shit about his crankiness. Ryel instead just continued talking. "I used to have a friend when I was a kid, an army brat. When my family was helping the Alliance, she didn't treat me like an alien freak. I still have the bracelet she gave me when I left. She called it Kolodochka, whatever the hell that means."

Garrus was getting flashbacks to all of Shepard's random dialect inserts. "Wait, isn't that Russian?"

"No clue." Looking at Butler, the man also shrugged. Great, so now he had a weird part of his brain collecting and flipping through Shepard memories, and no one had any answers for him. He could feel the back of his neck heating up, wondering if she had ties to Ryel. Didn't she tell him, on Noveria, that she kissed a Drell in a closet or something? Ryel interrupted his thoughts, though. "Why do you ask?"

Caught way off guard at this point, words just starting spilling out of his mouth. "I don't know a lot about human culture, but I had a... friend whose mother was from Russia. It came up a lot. She even danced ballet to classic Russian music when she was stressed- wait, Spirits, she wouldn't want me talking about that."

Across the line, Ro snorted. "Sounds like Garrus had a Russian girlfriend. That's a surprise."

Okay, he was officially over all this conversation. "Don't have a thing for humans, Ro. Now get it together before you pop the suit laughing and ruin your own traps." Everyone was quickly distracted by his joke, and started talking low about their strategies and who made what better thing.

But next to him, Butler cut his comms and asked, "But you did like her, didn't you?"

Garrus was not about to deal with this shit again. "No. Now focus on the mission."

"C'mon, I'm the married one. If anyone gets it, I do. What was her name?"

Throughout his skull, Shepard's name started beating like an unstoppable drum. And he didn't need that right now, not when he was moving forward with his life. He was supposed to be moving forward. That's what you did when you lost people, and he couldn't keep falling into traps and looking back.

He couldn't keep looking back for her. She wasn't coming back.

"Butler, I'm not asking you again."

"Garrus, you don't-"

Before he could say another word, there was a crash down below. Over comms, Danit's monotone voice was a pitch or two higher. "Where the hell did they come from? The door wasn't triggered."

Using the sights on his sniper, Garrus pin-pointed an equally shocked looking woman. She was steadying herself, tan skin sweaty, a smirk on her lips despite the clear tension in her muscles. In her hand was a detonator. Shit.

Standing up, he had to act fast. Yelling down from his vantage point he said, "I don't know how the hell you got in here, but you're surrounded. Put the detonator down and nobody has to get hurt."

"Without this detonator, you're going to get hurt." He thought his spot was well hidden, but she tossed it up his way. It sailed with a lot more force than he thought a human arm was capable of. "You brought the wrong one."

Garrus grabbed the one she gave him and sent Gibbon a concerned look. After a quick look in his pack, Gibbon looked more alarmed than he did. "Shit. She's right."

"We can talk about you forgetting our detonator later." Looking down at the strange woman on the space dock floor, he asked, "Thanks? But how'd you know-"

"It's better you don't ask questions. Especially since your target will be here any second now. Just stay alive, Mr. Vakarian." She started to run towards the exit, but then added, "If you ever run into me again, name's Sam." And then before she hit the door, she disappeared completely.

Jawth was the first to say, "Why the hell don't we have that tech?"

They started to bicker about it, whether it be about the science behind it or the fact she didn't trigger a single trap. But Garrus was more concerned about the fact she found them and that there was a chance they could run into her again.

If they didn't have the right detonator, in theory the job would've still worked. In theory, she didn't need to come, whatever she was. But maybe she knew something they didn't.

Before he could even get a word in, join in on the confusion or hype, the doors started to open across the space dock. He shoved Butler's head back down and got behind cover. "Get down and shut up, we're about to have company."

And what company it was.

It was more than their contact told them; three squadrons and even a mech, loaned from the Blue Suns. Without Gibbon's explosives, they might've lost some people trying to fight it out. Whoever the mysterious "Sam" was, she helped save their asses.

But chatter about the disappearing woman was overruled by getting the dangerously weak Alla back to base and realizing they were making bigger splashes than ever before.

In some ways, it was thrilling, knowing they were getting this far underneath the mercs' skin. Others? They had some powerful targets on their backs. While he felt a little cynical and sour about the situation, Sidonis was much more positive. While they watched Butler's doctor wife patch Ollie's sister up, he said, "They've started noticing us, Garrus."

"I'm pretty sure they always noticed us."

"No, you don't get it. They expect shit to go haywire sometimes, or that a rando might play hero. But we're doing more than that now." Sidonis shook his head, looking at the people around the room, like he was in awe. "They hear us now and they're scared. Scared enough to bring 3 squadrons to an execution they heard we might raid."

Sidonis patted his back and walked out of the room. No matter how grumpy he wanted to be, Garrus had to admit Sidonis was right. This meant they were changing things.

But that didn't mean he had to feel secure about it quite yet. What he needed to do was prepare for the pushback. Sidonis could be their silver lining guy; Garrus was there to keep them alive.

And dammit, he was not about to lose anyone just because they wanted to save lives and some asshole decided to snuff them out. Not again.

It was time for some upgrades.

///

Now, this is going to be weird for me so bear with me. Time to hype up the patron aspect of this all. Patronage helps me spend more time on my writing and interactions with you guys, as well as get closer to my goal of making a super creative Twitch channel (gaming, write with me, fun readings). For the lowest tier ($1), you guys get access to my T-Day Blogs talking about my stories and ideas and future plans, access to a fandom-friendly discord, and vote on the monthly "beach episode" for Drunk Punch Love.

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[thecupcakeconsumer]

The Numbers Don’t Count

JILY CHALLENGE | @thecupcakeconsumer vs. @prongsfoots

Social Media AU Theme: “shoot, i was stalking you on Instagram and accidentally liked a photo from 235 weeks ago”

Notes: Why is this up early? Well, that totally has nothing to do with my procrastinating on math and english and history homework... featuring it’s an AU so I’ll change whatever I like.

The time, her clock read, was 1:37AM – exactly four hours and twenty-three minutes before the same phone that she held in her hand would blast the same alarm as the default tone and she'd moan loudly, trying to turn it off without opening her eyes to the bright, unwelcome light.

Of course, Lily Evans was a little too busy stalking James Potter on Instagram for it to really register.

His account went years back and it seemed as though he'd never deleted anything – not even, she was finding, the photos of him before he'd started to transition.

She couldn't help it – his account was public and he was cute.

He'd been tagged in the most recent picture of their mutual friend Remus Lupin, and here she was, her curiosity having led her to a picture of the pre-transition boy and Sirius Black with the caption “More than friends? Never – we're both too gay.”

She lingered a little too long, and froze when the familiar heart was filled in with red.

“Oh, no,” whispered Lily. “No, no, no no no.”

It was bad enough that she'd been stalking him.

Now, she'd liked a picture from – what was that date? - March 24, 2013.

Four and a half years ago.

As if that wasn't bad enough, it was of him pre-transition: she'd look like a jerk.

Mary and Marlene would either be asleep or out drinking if she texted them at this hour: thus, asking her friends for advice was out of the question.

Should she like every picture so she didn't look like a bitch? Or would that seem too stalkerish?

Would he even notice?

She scrolled up to the top of the screen: @deerestjamie had 254 followers, and was following 409.

Cool, cool, cool cool cool cool. He wouldn't notice one like out of more than three hundred photos, would he?

Obviously, the best solution was just to leave it be and stop stressing, she resolved, putting her phone on the charger and flipping around to turn away from it.

(And yet all twenty minutes it took her to get to sleep, she couldn't stop thinking about it.)

Light streamed in through the narrow opening between the curtains, a bird chirped outside, the fall day just barely cool enough that one could wear a sweater or a t-shirt – of course, none of this mattered to the iPhone whose alarm was about as welcome to its owner as a sheep in heat would have been that morning.

“Oh my God,” murmured Lily, blindly fumbling for her phone and begrudgingly opening her eyes, her relief at managing to turn it off eclipsed by the Instagram notification – a DM from @siriuslyy.

She opened it, and was met with nothing more than “(ง'̀-'́)ง".

“Yeah, real eloquent, Black,” murmured Lily, before realizing there was also a screenshot that seemed to be taken from James's account of her having liked his picture, the only notification for the entire day.

Well, shit.

“Wait, why does Black have access to Potter's account?” murmured Lily, before shaking her head and rolling begrudgingly out of bed, deciding to address it after she got ready for work.

Sirius glared at his phone screen as he sat back on his chair during lunch, feet up on the break table even if he technically wasn't supposed to be lounging as such.

'I know you've seen this message Evans' he tapped out, sending the message, his lip curling when it registered as read almost immediately.

'Is it usual to have access to your best friend's Instagram?' came the sarcastic reply.

'There's nothing usual about us' Sirius answered, then adding, 'Is it usual to like a picture from over four years ago?'

A pause.

'Okay, listen.'

'Listening.'

Grabbing his water bottle off the table, Sirius easily opened it and started to drink, watching with slight amusement as she hesitated.

'I'll explain, but you can't tell James about this.'

'I can't control what the man does and doesn't notice.'

Not that James really would notice, considering almost a third of the pictures were posted by Sirius and he had turned notifications off so as to focus more on his work.

However, it wasn't as if anything would stop Sirius from standing up for James.

'Okay listen I stg I don't have a problem with his being trans – that's not why I was on his profile. Liking that photo was an accident.'

'Was being 3 years back on his profile an accident?'

Another pause, longer than the first.

'No?'

'Look, I have to go.'

And with that, he knew he'd lost her.

Damn.

He’d been having such fun.

“Hey, Lily,” greeted Remus, looking up from the book he was absorbed in when the bell at the door rung.

“Remus, your boyfriend is kind of an asshole.”

“Sirius? We know that by now, but since when do you know him?”

“You know he helps run James's Instagram?”

He blinked. “Since when do you know James? I mean, we all know by now that they're co-conspirators on about everything, but-”

“He was in your most recent picture. James, that is.”

Remus tilted his head to the side, as if trying to gauge what exactly Lily was on about, before realizing.

“You thought he was cute, didn't you?”

She flushed red.

“N-no, that's not what I – not that he isn't, but-” Remus smirked, which did nothing for her comprehensibility.

“I can't blame you, he's always been fairly attractive. Not my type, of course, but you wouldn't be the first who's fallen for him.”

“I did not fall for James Potter!” exclaimed Lily, flailing her arms and flinching when her hand hit one of the bookshelves in the small store. “Ow. Ow. What was I saying? Oh, right, I'm not falling for James Potter! Please. I don't even know the man.”

“Sure, sure, that's what they all say. You know, he's single?”

“He is?” asked Lily, before smacking herself internally when she realized by the way in which he only smiled wider that she'd managed to play herself. “Not that I care. That's great. Lots of people are single these days. Being single is the new being taken.”

“Played yourself, Evans. Now, what were you saying about Sirius? Wait, don't tell me.”

He put down his book on the counter, before walking around to the other side to examine her more closely. “You mentioned Instagram, and the fact that he's cute-”

“I did not-”

“Oh, please. What would Sirius have noticed, then? You know they both run his account, maybe you left a comment on a photo? No, you're that desperate… but stalking him?” Her involuntary twinge was all he needed. “You were stalking him and accidentally liked an old photo. Classic.”

“That's not fair,” murmured Lily, crossing her arms. “You're not allowed to come in here and smart-ass me-”

“Actually, you're the one who came in here, might I remind you. Not that you're unwelcome – it's been a while, hasn't it? And besides, you wear shame so well.”

“Remus!”

“Fine, fine. What do you want me to do about it?”

Her bottom lip jutted out. “I don't know. What am I supposed to do? Is he going to be upset?”

“Who?”

She raised her eyebrows as if it was obvious. “James?”

“Over… your liking one of his old pictures?” Lily nodded furiously. “James?”

“I don't know him!”

“Okay. Think of it this way. James is like the old man who sits in his chair reading the newspaper, and Sirius is like the overactive dog who barks at every disturbance.”

“So…?”

Remus shook his head with a laugh. “He's unlikely to even notice, and if he does he won't care, Lily. It's not a big deal. But – whatever you do – don't let him find out.”

“Because…?”

“Pretty girl like you stalking his Instagram? The man's ego is already big enough that it's a wonder he can fit through a door.”

She sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God. Thanks, Remus.”

“For?”

“For being the smart-ass you are.”

“Me? A smart-ass?” he asked in a bad impression of offense, subtly pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of her in the doorway, looking askance with a smile. “Why, I never.”

“Hey, Moon!” called out James as he entered the shared apartment, throwing his keys on the table and wincing when they fell short.

“James. Good day?”

He nodded, bending down to pick them up. “Great. Actually, work was pretty boring. Paperwork. Buuuut, I saw a cute girl today.”

“She work with you?” asked Remus conversationally.

“Nope!” answered James. “Actually, I didn't see her. Wait, no, that's not even true. I saw her, but like, not in person? I saw a picture of her, that is, taken in… what's your bookstore called again?”

“Lily?”

“No, no, that's not what it's – wait, is that her name?”

His friend smirked. “You know, I have her number.”

“You do?” asked James eagerly, wincing as his voice cracked on the last word. “Wait, seriously? You're not joking?”

“Do you want me to call her?”

“No!” He froze. “Wait, no. I mean, yes. I mean, maybe – you don't just call someone up. Aren't calls outdated? She probably has a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Then again, being single's on the up-and-up again. It's like being single is the new being taken. What was I saying? Oh, right, Lily. Pretty name. Pretty girl. Okay, I'll call her.”

James pulled out his phone confidently, before stopping. “I don't have her number.”

“I know, James.”

“I'm sorry, I'm just nervous.”

“I know, James.” Remus held out the phone with a grin. “Here. It's ringing.”

“What?!” squeaked James, hurriedly taking it from him. “Remus, you don't just-”

“Hey Remus, called to torment me?”

Even her voice had him in love.

“This isn't Remus.”

“Is this Sirius? I swear to God going through your boyfriend to get to me is just low.”

“What? No! You know Sirius?”

“Wait, if it's not Sirius, then who is this?”

He grinned. “It's James.”

A dramatic pause, then, “I hate you, Remus.”

“Oi! I'm not Remus! That's offensive, he has no taste in men.”

“I'm right here,” piped up the man in question, but was quickly shushed.

“Aren't you friends with Sirius?”

“Doesn't mean I want to date the man. Anyway, Lily, Lily Lily Lily, what're you doing this Friday night?”

If Remus had been drinking tea, he might have spit it out.

“This Friday night? No plans.”

“Great. Want to go out with me?”

A high pitched squeak resounded on the other end of the line, making it hard for James to discern whether or not it was from the technology itself or from his contact.

“Er, Lily?”

“That depends. Does Sirius have access to your phone too?”

“Not too often.”

“Give me your number and I'll be ready at eight.”

Waggling his eyebrows at Remus, he quickly gave her the number, unable to stop the corners of his mouth from spreading.

“I have no clue when I became your wingman.”

“Oh, shut up, Remus, you know you love me.”

“And?”

“And I love you too, Remy-poo.”

James sloppily kissed Remus on the cheek with a wet smack, nothing able to dull his mood.

Not even when he walked into his own door and found it closed, hitting it head-on.

“Adoorable.”

“Quiet, Moony.”