#ah. i think this will be forever a wip

[zhuzhee]

vast boys!!

[cruisingheightswithdragons]

Got around to drawing my Spore creature that I’ve had since I was a kid, recreating it in my latest run!

Their patagium lets the glide short distances (usually between trees), and their large tail fin helps steer them in the air. The fin on their prehensile tail also has stronger membrane with grasping capabilities, acting as a hand.

Upon becoming a space-faring species, they rely heavily on alliances with other nations, usually in the form of spice collection jobs. They also specialize in purple spice in the trade.

[datura-tea]

i guess, i guess, i guess this is the end...

[tekkenenjoyerblue]

I’m cooked 💀

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

☕︎ ꩜.ᐟ addie's works in progress!

hai everyone, this is where i store my upcoming works! shoot me a message or comment if you would like to be tagged in any of them! (or if you want to be on my perm tag list!)

i'll keep this updated as much as i can (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ - addie (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ

ᝰ.ᐟ park jongseong ── 박종성

[wip!] love looks pretty on you ── friends to lovers!au, fakedating!au (kinda), golden retriever x black cat!duo✎ᝰ fluff, angst, crack, rom-com

↳ jay has mastered the art of romance—flowers, candlelit dinners, sweet nothings whispered over the phone at 2 AM—you name it. but commitment? yeah, not really his thing. but so isn’t being alone. love is fun, love is exciting, but love is not forever. at least, not for jay. you, on the other hand, think love is a glorified pyramid scheme formed by societal expectations. so, no thanks! so when jay proposes a deal—he’ll show you the fun side of dating if you help him figure out why his relationships never last—it’s purely educational. totally hypothetical. no real feelings involved. just two people trying to prove a point. except now, you’re starting to enjoy rom-coms, and he’s looking at you like you’re something worth staying for—and suddenly, you two discover that love isn’t just a scam or a fleeting thrill. maybe...just maybe—it looks a lot like the two of you. and that? that was never part of the deal.

ᝰ.ᐟ sim jaeyun ── 심재윤

[wip!] love, actually ── secretadmirer!jake (kinda, you'll see heh), childhood bestfriends!au, friends to lovers!au, highschool!au ✎ᝰ. fluff, crack, rom-com

↳ ah, love. l'amour. the very word stirs our imaginations and pulls at all our heartstrings. well—all except yours. after your bad luck with relationships, you're simply convinced that love is not for you. and a certain jake sim—your annoyingly persistent best friend—has made it his personal mission to prove you wrong. his brilliant plan? writing you love letters under the identity of a secret admirer. foolproof, right? well...if his goal was to make you fall for a completely fictional person, then sure—he aced it. there's just one teensy, tiny, problem: the more you swoon over your so-called secret admirer, the more jake starts to realize he might be the one in trouble.

ᝰ.ᐟ park sunghoon ── 박성훈

[wip!] love me if you dare ── idol!sunghoon, childhood friends to lovers!au ✎ᝰ. angst

⤷ based off this sneak peak i posted years ago! (literally posted it four years ago and finally now committing to finishing it...)

↳ in which you know exactly what (or rather, who) you want (p.s. it’s sunghoon), and you’re not afraid to show it. sunghoon, on the other hand? he’s afraid of many things—starting with the very real #1 fear of losing you, his lifelong best friend. so when you go and confess your feelings for him, sunghoon faces his worst nightmare. but between falling for you and losing you, he realizes there’s only one thing scarier than his number #1 fear—never even getting the chance to love you at all. and it takes him confronting that to understand that the perfect love casts out all fears.

[wip!] accidentally yours ── highschool!au (or college!au, i haven't 100% decided lolz) , classmates to lovers!au ✎ᝰ. fluff, crack, rom-com

↳ the universe has a funny way of working. some people find their fate in poetry, in the stars, or in the grand, sweeping moments of life. you? you find yours in the form of park sunghoon—a boy you keep running into in the most unfortunate ways possible. like how he threw a football straight into your face and broke your nose. or when he got way too drunk at a party and threw up all over your shoes. or that time he somehow managed to blow up your entire science lab during class. in other words—the five times the universe tries to tell you that park sunghoon is your fate…and the one time you finally listened. (and maybe fate had less to do with a broken nose and more to do with the way he looks at you like you’re his favorite accident.)

ps: no exact dates as of rn for when they get released,,,ty for your support & love !!!

<3, addie

© jakesimfromstatefarm ── all rights reserved. all works & ideas & graphics are my own! pls no copying, stealing, or translating!

[elvensorceress]

wip not-wednesday?

since I finished snickerdoodles of longing, and I have a whole 16K chapter of the sequel, have a snippet? @tizniz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @kejfeblintz @smilingbuckley @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @bekkachaos @blutterlie @sazanahashi @livinginsunnyhell @epicbuddieficrecs @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie @beyourownanchor6 love to all of you! yell at me if you share anything! I want to see it! 💕 this follow's Monday's snippet where Eddie is now in Texas and missing both his boys and for the record this is the song Eddie sent Buck because reasons

Eddie indulges with a hot shower after his morning workout and tries not to think about Chris getting ready for school and Buck working on a car collision and Eddie being absent for both of those things. 

He towels off, wraps it around his waist, and flops on the bed to thoroughly air dry before getting dressed. He also didn’t sleep that much and the bed is very enticing. He could nap for a bit before facing the rest of the day. 

As soon as he closes his eyes for a few minutes, his phone buzzes.

On screen Buck is still partially in his gear. He’s sweaty and looks soggy and grimy, but his hair is going crazy in all directions. And admittedly, it's pretty cute.

“I listened to your song,” Buck hangs up his helmet on the racks behind him. “Had to not cry all the way back here.” 

Not cry? Eddie never considered it a sad song. Hopeful and longing sure, but not sad. The lyrics talk about lying under the stars in a field of bluebonnets and a dream of touching earth and growing something wild and unruly. And also running away with a cowboy who sets his love free. “It made you cry? Or you wanted to cry?”

Buck shrugs out of his coat and gives him a weird face. “Yes, Eddie. Your song about being set free and rescued and having a happy life with the man you love away from everything else made me cry.”

Ah. Yeah, he can see how it would do that under that context. “It was one of my favorites when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, I get it. And here I thought you calling me ‘cowboy’ was just silly. And possibly homoerotic.”

Eddie smirks. And misses him like crazy. “It can be all of the above. Multitudes are contained in words and music.”

Buck finishes taking off his gear and shakes his head. Not like he disagrees. More like he’s amused. And then he takes a harder look through the phone, likely at Eddie, and glances around the station like he’s checking who might be around him. “Are you,” he says in a rushed whisper. “Are you naked right now?”

“I just showered. I have a towel on.” Eddie angles the phone down and back up because he’s sure Buck will want proof. 

Buck’s eyes are wide and dark when Eddie moves the phone back up to show his face. Buck is chewing his lower lip. And breathing heavily. “Eddie, fuck. I’m in the middle of the station floor. Someone will know! Someone will see!”

Eddie blinks a few times. “They’ll see what? I’m just shirtless. As far as they know. Anyone at the station has probably already seen me shirtless. Our locker room has glass walls.” Plus, no one cares about seeing a man without his shirt. 

Although Buck without his shirt is nice. Very nice. Beautiful. He’s so ridiculously beautiful. But it’s Buck. He’s the most handsome, beautiful, gorgeous. All those things. Eddie doesn’t even know how to describe him any other way. 

The background around Buck changes rapidly like he’s hurrying somewhere. But he's still clearly on the screen. And Eddie could look at him forever.

He’s soft and warm and strong and Eddie loves tracing the swirls of black ink all over Buck’s skin. He loves pressing kisses to his scars and imagining he can take away any associated pain. He loves the curves and bulges of muscles, the feel of soft, dense body hair. Or what would be dense and curly and everywhere if Buck didn’t wax off so much of it. Sure, it’s his body and his personal preference. If that’s what Buck likes, that’s what counts. But Eddie loves how it feels under his hands, against his own skin. It makes him tingle and ache and his heart rushes, and it’s like coming back to life, finally finding sensation. 

He loves that Buck let him touch and kiss anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Eddie wanted to leave love on every inch of Buck’s body, but especially the blemishes and places where he knows Buck is self-conscious about the way he looks. 

Eddie can’t look at him and see anything but beautiful. Perfect. He’s so perfectly Buck and so perfectly beautiful in every way. 

Okay, maybe he gets why Buck closes his eyes and makes some kind of tense hand gesture at him. 

Maybe Buck looks at Eddie and sees him as beautiful, too. Not that Eddie is bad looking? He knows people find him attractive. He knows quite a few people think that’s all he is. Nice face, pretty good body. Being a firefighter, a soldier, requires a certain amount of athleticism. But his face and appearance is just genetics. None of it really matters. Focusing on looks is shallow and reductive. And usually objectifying and invasive. 

But Buck knows him. 

It’s different if Buck thinks Eddie is good looking. 

It looks like Buck shuts himself in the showers at the station and pants heavily as he says, “Eddie. Honey. Baby.”

"Yes, love?" Why are they so far apart when all Eddie wants to do is kiss him all over and hold him forever? They shouldn’t be apart. It’s been a little over two days and he already hates this.

"You're naked. You-- you are -- you're. Naked."

Eddie smirks. “You know if you’re going to shower, you’ll have to get naked, too.”

Buck points at him through the phone. “Not helping! So not helping.”

Eddie must’ve missed the memo where he was supposed to be helpful. He misses his Buck, his partner, his-- he doesn't know what they're calling each other now besides that, but it doesn't matter because Eddie only aches for him.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenevers

Got tagged by @sulphuricgrin <3 Editing to add @sanza-17 Thank you for tagging me!!!!

Going to tag @skyrim-forever @firefly-factory @dayundying @nyarevar @snowy-weather @archangelsunited and anyone else who's interested.

Posting writing and art today. We have one third of Joshi's hair and Sydari's pov from Serious Mistakes 18 which is almost finished.

Ya boi is pretty and almost done. I just need to finish his hair, do some layer magic and some finishing lighting.

Anyway, Josh left a party and Sydari runs into him afterwards. Under the cut for length. Featuring Joshi's Skaal fur coat and his special interest in Dwemer.

Sydari had seen what looked like a well-worn path that weaved into the forest not too far away from her tent and decided to explore it, hoping that the walk would clear her head and wouldn’t be too strenuous. Getting to Brodir Grove felt like scaling the side of a mountain though to her relief, the path was mostly downhill. The air was crisp, and the wastes were silent as she wandered the twisting path, the lantern in her hand the only thing aside from the waxing moons that lit her path. It was as she descended what looked to have once been a set of stairs carved into the earth that she saw a faint spark of red in the distance. The orange glow almost bobbed in the air, a tiny pinprick of light in a sea of inky black shadows and glowing dunes.

She cautiously approached, her other hand reaching for the hilt of her Razor just in case. Then she smelt it on the wind, the distinct smell of burning tobacco. She lowered her hand just as the silhouette of a tall, lean figure came into view.

“Didn’t think I’d see you around.”

Sydari stopped just as the light from her lantern illuminated the figure, leaning against a boulder, his thin frame swamped in a silvery fur coat.

“Didn’t think I’d see you either, Sero.” She sighed, raising her lantern a little higher to better illuminate the space around them. He’d wiped some of the ash paint from his face, a crusted, white border framing his blue-grey skin. His dark hair fell around his shoulders, messy and coarse as it usually was. He seemed tired, then again, he always seemed tired. He sighed as he flicked the end of his cigarette onto the ashy ground and crushed it with the toe of his boot.

“Yeah, well I—”

“You left the banquet,” She cut in before she could stop herself. He seemed a little taken aback, stepping away from the bolder, cane in hand as he approached what looked to be a sheer drop. He stopped a few paces from the edge and sighed. His grip tightening on the handle of his cane.

“Yeah, I did.” He stated bluntly. Sydari moved towards him, only stopping as he held out his free hand, “I needed some space.”

She swallowed, her heart beating faster at Teldryn’s statement. She watched as he turned a little, facing her as he spoke. His voice was small, melancholy. She wanted to reach out to him.

“I ah, I needed some space and like I told you before…” He sighed and scratched his nose, his gaze moving away from her and back towards the edge of what now appeared to be a sunken Dwemeri ruin. He started rubbing along the outside of his upper thigh, his teeth clenching as he looked back at her, “Needed to deal with shit that’s obviously my fault.”

 “I’m sorry about that,” She apologised with a sigh. She lowered the lantern a little, no longer illuminating Teldryn’s face.

“You’re apologising?” He tilted his head, his hand reaching for his pocket, “I um… ah—”

“I know you can’t control how that thing reacts,” she tried to explain, her voice a little panicked, “I um, I’m not sure why I lashed out at you like that.”

“Coz you’re mad at me for the other day, yeah?” Teldryn replied, his voice breaking a little, “Kinda figured you’re barely tolerating my shit as it is,” He nodded at his hip, “This thing being a fuck-up probably was the last thing you wanted to deal with.”

She sighed, choosing to take another step towards him, noting that he didn’t ask her to stop, “I still shouldn’t have rubbed it in your face.”

The corners of Teldryn’s lips turned up slightly, his gaze still trained on the ruin below, “Apology accepted, sera.”

She closed the distance between them, moving to stand by his side. She looked down into the pit below, its edges expertly cut and smoothed into a sheer drop. It made her feel a little sick, and she took a step backwards. Teldryn reached for her shoulder, his gloved fingers brushing against the fabric of her coat.

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a drop,” He smiled, taking a step with her, “Would you believe me if I said I’m not a fan of it myself?”

She bit down on her lip, glancing over at him as he let go of her, “Then why were you standing on the edge?”

Teldryn shrugged, the fur on his coat rippling as he moved his shoulders, “Curiosity, there’s a lever down the bottom of the tower that I’ve been trying to figure out. There’s a key slot but it’s not one of the puzzle locks that you usually find on these things. Looks more like some of the shit you find in Chimeri structures that used to facilitate teleportation. So, I’m wondering if there’s a connection since the ruins look like they’re First Council era an—”

“Teldryn, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sydari cut in. Honestly, she hadn't the first clue about these kinds of ruins outside of what one might be able to loot from it, and considering her experience chasing Mercer Frey through Irkngthad, she wasn’t quite keen to delve into one again.

She’d leave those jobs up to the more eager recruits.

[blood-grove]

unnatural bleeding

merfolk au!

previous <- part 5 -> WIP

parings: gaz x reader

chars: gaz, price , soap , ghost

tws: blood, injuries, violence, past abuse, language, slow burn.

a/n: hehehhehehe finally new update :3 got rid of the rude reader tw cuz reader is gonna be annoyed at the world at best angry at worst plus i dont think ive been writing them rudely so also forgive me if the writing pov changes weirdly idk i have a hard time staying focused and consistent ill try better

tags; @chickennn-soupp @cassiecasluciluce @sans-chara @lethargicluv  @kaoyamamegami

What the hell was this place.

It seems all they did was stare at you and when you would clearly get sick of the mumbles and looks you'd splash them and they'd fucking laugh.

They were weird and the Gaz guy was weirder.

You found later his name was actually Kyle and he meant to clarify earlier.

But you found the silly nickname funny.

But this wasn't fun.

Being propped up on a large mat next to the side of the pool the leather felt uncomfortable under you, You also felt way too exposed as a few humans looked over your stitches and wrappings.

It felt weird there hands weren't rough but no one besides a few have touched you like this they were talking about something you'd care less to pay attention too.

As they examined you, Gaz kept trying to pull your attention away from the other humans.

Oh?

Was he jealous?.

Humans are so fickle it's funny.

-

Christ.

Even working with merfolk in the past Gaz still never got used to the bigger ones like you.

Scarface as you've been suitably nicknamed for the moment been alright and cooperative so far no biting or thrashing.

He'd likely guess the wounds were causing you to be so irritable they didn't look good when they first arrived problem had a couple of parasites on them along with other infections that are still being treated.

Price was observing the whole check up process.

You didn't speak much at least not to any of the other staff.

There were a few problems though.

Firstly they found you solo but there was still likely you belonged to a pod but which is the question.

Secondly, they couldn't keep you in the medical pool forever you were wild to some extent it would be cruel to keep you from you family.

Thirdly during your surgery, they'd found a piece of metal that didn't look important it was kept to be looked over in case it helped discover why you were in such a state, Price already guessed territorial fighting but you clearly (no offense) couldn't pick your battles.

Some of these scars and bites could have been lethal.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as you shifted clicking in annoyance he was quick to reach over for another fish from the bucket nearby by offering it up in an attempt to distract you.

"Are all humans this pokey?"

"No Scarface we just..need to make sure your healing okay..Then we can release you."

Kyle huffed as he gave you an honest smile ignoring the glare and grumble he received in return, You still took the fish though idly crunching on it.

They eventually finished the examination without much fuss except for you not so subtly tripping the newest volunteer who honestly should have been starting off with a much smaller mer than you.

But you start off somewhere.

Speaking of which it's about lunch time for them now and his break time, Kyle oversaw you getting back into the pool without much struggle before he left your area visiting by Price to mention he was going on his break before grabbing his lunch and heading to the docks.

He'd usually not have to wait long before they'd show but it'd seemed they were late.

It wasn't long till a familiar face popped up flashing teeth and all.

"Hey, Soap!" Kyle grinned as he looked to see the shark mer propping up his elbows onto the dock.

"Ghost comin'..?"

"Ah in a bit he's still getting his bearings.."

Now he was confused the last time he'd seen the pair and given them there updated shots and tags they'd been great.

The pair were unusual a Shark and Orca together seemed unheard of but yet just a few years ago now when Kyle had fallen overboard during an solo observation trip Ghost saved him from drowning.

Both of them were odd in a good way, Simon having been outcasted by his pod but he doesn't like to talk about it.

He had lots of scars all telling of countless battles of either for his territory or from just fights.

As for Soap, Sharks were solitary regardless but Soap had his own set of scars from fights some he shouldn't have tried starting.

"Bearings? What happended?.."

"Another fuckin' Orca smaller not as experienced grabbed me a few days back, Si really fucked em' up till the bastard clocked him on the head with there tail-"

Wait.

"Jesus , Where is he? I can get a team out and-"

"Ah ye know how he feels about humans..Plus he seemed to be swimming straight.."

"But Soap , He could have a concussion or maybe a facture-"

Soap sighed as he glanced back to the water before back at Kyle.

"Look..You can try convincing em'"

Soap frowned as Simon finally surfaced propping himself up onto the dock as well the wood creaking slightly under the weight of just Simons upper half.

"Ghost"

"Kyle."

Kyle huffed as he didnt even need to say anything as he went up to him giving him a look before he huffed grumbling quietly adjusting himself better so that Kyle could assess him.

Taking his time looking over the newer injuries they had healed well enough fishing out his little hand held flash light from his keychain in his pocket he checked Ghost's eyes.

After a bit of checking Kyle felt satisfied ignoring Ghost annoyed clicks.

"Mm..Now Soap you said it was another Orca right..? Did it come back?"

"Nah..Fucker swam off after bashing Ghost head..Pretty sure I could smell em' bleeding though for a bit till they got too far."

Right this was looking to be way too convenient and fitting to not match up with good ol' Scarface's condition.

"Mm..Alright..Anyway I brought some-"

"Treats?!" Before Kyle could even move his lunchbox away Soap had snatched it and Kyle let out a exasperated sigh not even fighting for it risk of being pulled into the water.

"Jesus Soap my lunch is still in there be careful- And dont eat the plastic!"

[skeletalgalore]

ABLAZE - Chapter Four: In Color

WIP: F!Reader is new to Hawkins High and is immediately drawn to the school's misfit. NO Y/N/OC USAGE!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

What's that? A playlist to go along with the fic? My, I do have a lot of time on my hands... Listen along here: link!

Originally posted on my Wattpad: link!

Chapter Four: In Color

Monday morning had rolled around again and you stood in your usual spot at the end of the driveway waiting for Robin and Steve. You got some of your mixtape listening in whilst waiting to be picked up - you had taped Running Free by Iron Maiden from one of the tapes your mom's collection that was hidden away; you had always followed suit from your mom's slightly heavier taste in music. You'd never think to find one of Eddie's favourites hiding away in your house, but you highly appreciated it. Finally, the pair pulled up and you hopped into the back.

"SO! What are you and Eddie gonna do for your date on Friday?" Robin asked with glee.

"Morning to you too, Robin," you were taken aback by her on-the-spot question. You had been thinking about it all weekend after getting home from the mall Saturday afternoon, but you really didn't have any idea.

"C'mon, give the girl a break. She's only just got in the car!" Steve had your back. "I'm sure she'll let us know as soon she knows herself,"

"Thanks, Steve. And not a clue, honestly. I've been wondering all weekend but I'd be happy doing anything. It feels like forever since I've been on a date,"

"Did your last boyfriend not really do that with you?" he asked looking at you through the rear view mirror.

"Hmm, not really. We used to sneak out every weekend but I don't think that really counts. He took me to Taco Bell a couple of times... And I had to pay for both of us. Every time. So maybe it was me who took him on the dates. Anyway, I don't have to deal with that asshat anymore. Maybe Eddie will treat me to a Taco Bell for a change?" you laughed.

The three of you eventually arrived at the top of the parking lot and Steve waved the pair of you off. You noticed Eddie had just pulled into the parking lot as you were walking down from the top and your stomach filled with butterflies. Robin took one look at you and smiled.

"Go on, go speak to him. I'll meet you by our lockers,"

You blushed a little bit, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. She waved you off and started walking inside as you headed towards him. Eddie had just got out of his van and lit up a cigarette when he noticed you.

"Hey," he smiled with the lit cigarette between his lips. "How are we, this fair morning?"

"Hi, I'm good," you couldn't help but smile back. His smile was contagious. "It was nice seeing you briefly on Saturday," You felt like a giggly school girl, all shy in his presence.

"Yeah, same. You looking forward to Friday? I've got an idea where to take you out," he teased. Your eyes lit up and you could tell he loved it. "I'm not telling you what it is though,"

"Aw, c'mon, not even a lil' teensy hint?" you pouted at him.

"Damn, you're giving me the puppy dog eyes already!" Eddie laughed. He took a long drag from his cigarette before putting it out under his Reeboks. "Hmm, well it is only an idea so far. How about I let you know a 'lil' teensy hint' by the end of Thursday, okay? Gotta keep a girl on her toes, y'know?"

"Ha, okay. That's fine with me," you smiled. He gave you a big cheesy grin in return. "Ah, shit, I need to get inside. Robin's waiting for me,"

"No worries. I'll catch up with you next time. See ya, sweetheart," Eddie pulled you in for a quick hug and gave the top of your head a quick kiss. Your heart fluttered and cheeks warmed at such a gentle gesture.

You quickly walked into Hawkins High to try and find Robin as soon as possible. As soon as you approached her, the bell rang. You both ran into class and gave a small nod as to speak about it on break.

Lunchtime eventually rolled around and everyone was hustling and bustling into the cafeteria as per usual. You and Robin grabbed your food and joined the usual table in the usual spot. She couldn't wait to hear all about what you and Eddie spoke about.

"Come onnn, I wanna know! What did you talk about?"

"Damn, if I keep it to myself, will you burst?" you joked. Robin sulked a little, crossing her arms across her chest. "Ha, okay. Well I hate to break it too you but there wasn't that much said,"

"Better than nothing. Spill,"

"Okay, okay. We both said it was nice to see each other this weekend, he teased about knowing where he was taking me on a date, said he'd tell me on Thursday a hint about what we're going to do, and then I had to come back in to meet you, sooo wehuggedgoodbyeandhekissedthetopofmyhead, and that's it," you rushed the last part of the sentence as you buried your face into your cafeteria burrito.

"I'm sorry, I'm not fluent in lovesick gibberish. What was that?" she smirked at you, just wanting you to repeat it and make your face more red.

"Ahem... We, erm, we hugged goodbye,"

"Yes, and?"

"And, erm, and he kissed the top of my head," you sided eyed her, trying to insinuate it isn't that big of a deal but her reaction was already decided and overflowing.

Oh my god, that's so freakin' cute! You're making the school bad boy look like the Sugarplum Fairy," Robin teased at you, trying to poke your ribs.

"C'mon now, it was only one, small interaction. Surely that alone doesn't make him look soft. And I'm pretty sure a lil' kiss on top of my head won't ruin his 'bad boy' reputation,"

"Yeah, you're right. But hey, it's still something! I'm not wrong about one thing though, that did sound pretty freakin' cute,"

You both carried on with lunch and chatted to your friends on the table. Your eyes drifted over to the Hellfire table once again, only to locked with Eddie's as he rested his chin on his hand. It shocked you to see him looking over at you. He'd mentioned he'd noticed you looking at him before but this was like being caught in the act. You felt like a deer in headlights. He gave you a small wink before flashing a big smile, then continued to berate the Hellfire boys about something and throwing a grape at Mike's head.

"You know what, Robin?" you turned to face her. "You're right. Pretty freakin' cute,"

The end of the day rolled by and quite honestly, you were drained. Today seemed to take too long to get through and classes just felt extra dull. You were extremely thankful for the final school bell to ring. You walked to your locker with Robin to grab a couple of textbooks you needed to take home along with your Walkman - you didn't like keeping it in your bag whilst at school, just in case anything happened to it. You slipped the Walkman into your pocket and hung the headphones around your neck. Just as you were about to walk out the front doors of the school, Robin nodded her head towards someone behind you. When you turned around, Eddie was stood right there.

"Fu-- Jesus!" you jumped out of your skin.

"Hi," he grinned, cheekiness glowing on his cheeks after the small scare.

"Eddie, I wasn't expecting to see you,"

"Yeah, I gathered. Anyway, I was thinking about Friday night,"

Your mouth went dry. You hoped he hadn't second guessed taking you out and thought you were just a weird girl who liked to stare at him at lunch.

"Y-Yeah?"

"I just realised I don't even have your phone number and I don't have an absolute clue where you live to pick you up,"

'Phew, I thought I'd blown it without even doing anything for a second...' you thought.

"Oh, oh yeah," you rubbed the back of your head. "Do you have a pen? I'll write it down for you,"

He slipped a Sharpie out of his inside pocket of his denim cut-off jacket and handed it you.

"Erm... A bit of paper?"

"Just scribble it on here," he held his hand out towards you, pointing to the back of his hand.

You shrugged and began to write it out your phone number. Eddie tried to hide a giggle from you as the pen nib tickled his skin. You held his hand still as he tried not to squirm, squeezing it lightly as a 'stop moving' silent gesture.

"There... You... Go!" you cheerfully said, pen lid in mouth now going back onto the Sharpie with a loud click, handing it back over to Eddie.

"Cool, I'll call you tonight," he flashed a big grin. You seemed quite shocked that he wanted to call you and he could tell instantly. "I-I mean, if that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, yeah sure," you gave him a reassuring smile.

"Move it, Munson! Get out the way!" a jock shouted as they walked past you.

Eddie was ready to shout something back in retaliation but was distracted by the bigger squeeze around his hand instead. You hadn't actually let go of his hand after writing your number on the back of it, and your anxious squeeze from the jock confrontation was unintentional but an instinctual reaction. He flashed you a concerned look.

"It's alright, sweetheart, I don't usually pay mind to pricks(!) like that," he smiled. "Anyway, I'll call you tonight. I won't keep you guys any longer," He gave your hand a small squeeze in return and waved you and Robin goodbye.

"Sorry, Robin, I didn't even realise you were still standing around waiting for me," you apologised. "I thought you'd already gone to the car,"

"Nah, it's okay. It was super cute just being in both of your presence, acting all adorable and stuff," Robin teased, tickling your sides.

You both walked up to the top of the parking lot to Steve's usual space and hopped into his car. The pair weren't working this evening so you were heading straight home instead of hanging at the video rental store. Your mind kept drifting back to the small moments with Eddie earlier in the day; the small hug, a peck of a kiss on the head, holding hands, that damn smile...

"You okay back there?" Steve looked at you through the rear-view mirror. "You've not said anything this whole time,"

"She's probably thinking about Eddie..." Robin teased.

The hesitation and the pink-flushed cheeks gave you away instantly, much to the delight of the pair sat in front. You saw Steve flash a smile at you in the mirror as he continued to drive you home. Robin decided to tell him all about what happened, especially her front row seat to the end of school interaction between you and Eddie. You tried to hide your rosy coloured cheeks through her retelling, but it was useless. You just had to own it.

"Well, sounds like he's interested in you," Steve said as he pulled up outside your house. "I mean, no harm in seeing where it goes. Might be good for you. New town, new school new friends... New boyfriend?"

You froze a little. Putting the label 'boyfriend' out there was a bit of a big step, considering what the last one did to you. But, Steve wasn't wrong. No harm in seeing where it goes. You're starting afresh might do you some good.

You got out the car, waved the pair off until tomorrow morning, and headed inside to see hi to your mom. You kicked off your shoes by the door and hung up your coat, shouting out to say your were home.

"Hey, sweetie! I'm just upstairs!" you heard your mom call. You ran upstairs to find her in her bedroom sorting out some of her belongings and putting them in their new place. You went over and gave her a small hug, with her returning the affection with a small kiss on the cheek. "Did you have a good day? I wasn't expecting you home until later,"

"All good," you said as you perched on the edge of her bed, cushioned by the soft blanket. "Robin and Steve aren't working tonight so they dropped me straight home. Whatcha you doing?"

"Just sorting through our things. Thought it was about damn time I start putting things away where they should be. I am sick of seeing all these brown boxes!" Your mom gestured towards the moving boxes strewn across her bedroom. She joined you briefly on the edge of her bed, and she placed her arm around your shoulders. "I am so glad to see how well you have settled here. You seem to be embracing the change and you look and sound so much better... Just like how you used to be,"

You began to well up, trying to keep the tears in. It was true in what she was saying. A stray tear fell down your cheeks and your mom caught it on her thumb, brushing it away across your cheek. She gave you a solemn smile, and squeezed you closer and tighter towards her to comfort you.

"I am always��here for you," she turned to face you, now holding both your hands in hers. "always and forever, my darling girl. Don't ever fight your demons alone again. You don't need to. Shit, I've made some bad decisions in my time, and there's no doubt I still will, but I want you to know that I am here for you through thick and thin. I ain't afraid to go kick someone's ass,"

You laughed, smiling at your mom through teary eyes. She was right. You used to tell her everything all the time, and then your shitty ex-boyfriend came on the scene and you changed. You snuck around, hid things from her, rebelled, everything... All for a guy who didn't give two shits about respecting you. But your mom knew. She wasn't always such an angel herself, so she could see what was happening even if you didn't say. That's how she knew to get up and go, and find a new safe place for the pair of you.

"Can... Can I tell you something, mom?" you shifted about in your place on the edge of the bed nervously. This worried her, and you could tell instantly by the way her face dropped. "Don't look like that, it's not that bad!"

Her face relaxed, but you could tell she was still apprehensive about the next words that were going to leave your mouth.

"So... I've been getting to know people and made some good friends, right? I've been having a really great time and it's been so nice to just fit into a friendship group so quick," you were dancing around the subject and you could tell your mom just wanted you to get to the point as her arms crossed in front of her chest, biting her nails nervously. "Well... I, erm..."

"Come on out with it, for goodness sake. You're gonna give me a damn heart attack," you mom blurted out and interrupting your hesitation.

"I'VE GOT A DATE. WITH A GUY. ON FRIDAY."

The tension in the room was palpable. You dreaded what your mom was going to say. You were now the one biting the nails with nerves whilst your mom just stared at you.

"Okay," she broke the silence which had seemed to go on for a lifetime.

"...Okay?" you reiterated, unsure if was actually 'okay'.

"Okay," she repeated. No anger, no frustration, no tears.

"Oh... Well, that went better than I thought," you sighed deeply, tension dropping from your shoulders.

"What did you think I was going to say? That you're forbidden to date ever again in the history of mankind? Nah, I can't do that. I mean, even if I did I know it wouldn't last and you'd do it anyway. My dad used to do that to me and it never worked. I only realised that when I knew we had to go," she paused, judging to see your reaction. You seemed okay, more inquisitive to what she was going to say. "When I seemed like the Bitch of the House in our old town, grounding you for everything that was going on, I thought I was doing the right thing and trying to punish and prevent you doing those things again. But when I realised that there was more to it on D Day, I took a look at myself and noticed not once had I tried to see what was really going on. And that made me a shitty mom,"

"Mom, no--" you tried to interject.

"No, I was. I was a shitty mom who didn't even know how bad things had got. I looked at myself and saw my dad in me, and I didn't like it. I had promised myself that I would never treat my child the same way my father did to me... But I never noticed I already had with you. That's why I'm trying to make things better. I'm holding myself accountable for the past and I am actively making our lives better for the both of us. That's why I knew I had to take us out that shithole of a place when I saw how destroyed you were. I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm sorry I didn't do something sooner. I want you to be happy," she grabbed you and pulled you into a massive bear hug, stroking your hair as you silently cried. This wasn't how you expected today to go, but you were glad to hear it. "And if being happy means trying to go dating again... So be it. Of course I'm shit scared for you, but you can't move on if you don't try,"

You both sat there for a short while and spoke about everything. You felt so much lighter and in a way slightly healed about issues from the past. You helped your mom put some of her things away in her bedroom, and changed the tape in her hi-fi when it would finish. She said you could keep some of the tapes in her collection, so you grabbed a few to stash away in your room to see what you could add to your mixtape next.

Afterwards you helped with dinner and ate together in front of the TV, watching whatever was on at the time. You glanced at the clock on the wall - 8:30pm - Eddie hadn't called yet. You began doubting yourself, wondering if you had made up saying he'd call tonight. You tried not to think about it, and excused yourself to your room for the night. Your mom wished you a good night and continued to watch TV.

When you got to your bedroom, you decided to flick through the tapes you picked from your mom's collection to play this evening while doing your homework. You decided upon Cheap Trick's album In Colour, as it reminded you of long drives in the summer that your mom used to take you on, her long hair blowing in the breeze that flowed through the open windows in the car.

Time went on, you had finished your homework for the night, and decided to get your sketchbook out for some late night drawing to wind down. You had gone through some of your old notes from class the other day and looked for your doodles in the margins for inspiration for this evening's sketch. You set everything up on your bed for some extra comfort. It'd had been a while since you had drawn anything, so you were in a deep focus.

RING RIIING!

The sound of the phone ringing in your room made you jump off your bed.

RING RIIING!

"Hello?" you answered the phone, hand pressed to your chest as you could feel your heart beat hard and fast.

"Good evening, I'm calling from Hawkins Morgue and Crematorium. Chilled then fried, we're your guys!" you recognised Eddie's voice from his salesman-style tone on the other side of the phone and laughed at his opening line.

"Hi, Eddie," you said with a small chuckle. You sat back onto the bed and picked your pencil back up to continue sketching whilst staying on the phone. "Shit, it's like nearly 11pm! Bit late to be calling me, don't you think?"

"I know. Sorry, sweetheart," his voice purred down the phone, making your cheeks flush that shade of pink again. "I said I'd call, so I'm keepin' my promise,"

"Fair enough, a promise is a promise, I guess. Luckily you've not woken my mom, or you would have felt her wrath at the end of the phone," you warned him.

"Well I'm glad that it's your sweet voice down the line instead," Eddie's voice convincing you that your heart had been replaced by a flutter of butterflies with every word he spoke. "But I am sorry it is so late, definitely not my intention. Just got a bit carried away tonight,"

"Oh yeah? What have you been doing tonight?" you continued to scribble in your sketchbook on your propped up lap as you leant up against the headboard, phone between your ear and shoulder.

"Tonight, I did a service not many men can do," he claimed with a boast. "I, alongside some of my brothers in arms, rocked a show so hard we melted everyone's faces off,"

"Hardcore," you replied. "I didn't know you were in a band,"

"Of course! We're Corroded Coffin, the best metal band to come outta Hawkins!"

"And I assume the only metal band to come outta Hawkins too, huh?" you teased.

"Y-Yeah, that too-- ANYWAY! Here is your evening phone call from your date this coming Friday, which I know you're super excited about. I can hear you kicking your feet at the other end of the phone, you're that giddy," You couldn't help but laugh at Eddie, he was definitely ticking all the right boxes for charming you. "So where am I to collect my fair maiden to start the weekend off right?"

You told him your address and directions to get to it, and he read it back to make sure he got it down right.

"Great, how about I come get you about 7pm? Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah, that sounds perfect," you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. "Where are we headed?"

"Nuh-huh, you ain't getting it outta me yet!" you couldn't help but laugh again. "I said I'd give you a hint on Thursday and that's what I'm gonna do,"

"Okay, okay, you're right. Anyway, Eddie, I think I need to get off the phone now. It's getting late and I need to put my sketchbook stuff away,"

"You're an artist?" he queried you. "that's cool! What kinda stuff you do?"

"Oh, well, I wouldn't say I'm an artist. It's more like a hobby, really..."

"I'm calling BS right now. I bet you're sitting in front of a fuckin' masterpiece right now and you're just being too modest to admit,"

"It's nothing, really, just sketching some ideas out from doodles in class. Like, it's not a big deal,"

"See, there it is again. Miss Modesty over here! What is it that you've drawn? Or is it too naughty to share with the class--"

"Oh, god, no! Nothing like that!" you hear him laugh down the phone at you scrambling to prove your innocence. "It's some character ideas that I came up with,"

"Well, I'm not buying it, in all honesty. I think you should bring it in to prove me wrong, and then I can be in awe of your artistic prowess,"

"Errrr, okay..." you sound hesitant about the idea at first. "I don't really show other people my sketchbook, it's a work in progress kinda thing... Promise you won't laugh at my stuff?"

"I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die,"

"Okay, fine. I'll pack it with me tomorrow. I'll show you before we head into school,"

"Great! Right, I better let you go and get some sleep. I've kept you up for long enough,"

"Alright, well g'night, Eddie. See you tomorrow," you yawn down the line.

"G'night, sweetheart. Dream of me!" Eddie hung up the phone.

You hung up your phone and looked down at your sketches.

"Well, shit," you said aloud to yourself. You had developed your character on the page that much on the phone that they had little Eddie characteristics - curly hair, Reeboks, the bandana in the back pocket. "I'm not hearing the end of this..."

[ollypopwrites]

i got tagged by @the-bear-and-his-sunbird to post a snippet of a WIP and tbh I didn’t know what to post but I found something!

Tagging anyone who wants to play (please tag me I love to see what you are working on) and I am too distracted to think of all the lovely writers and their fics that I greedily want a sneak peak at.

This snippet was written at the beginning of a follow up to Aureate, a bit of a flashback moment. at this point I like what I wrote but am still unsure it has a place in that fic!! It is unedited and very much just like a spark of a thought i wrote out sooooo take it for what it is lol

Emmrich had known devastating loss, he met it very early and it had been somewhat of a companion for most of his life.

Suddenly and with striking finality he had become an orphan, with no other family willing or able to take him in. Home and parents, gone all in one fell swoop.

And he was a sensitive child, something that had never truly passed, not a phase or a fleeting reaction to tragedy. No, even forty odd years after the loss of his parents he was still quite easily moved to extreme emotion. The only thing that had changed was his ability to mask it, and even that was mediocre when the more pressing feelings washed over him in a tidal wave.

Loss was familiar but he never found it less harrowing. That initial detachment, the shock, had rendered him mute the first few days after his parents died. The first stage of grief was where one had to grapple with was the idea that someone was now forever absent. He had learned to trudge on through that, smaller losses had made it possible.

A first love, dashed and broken. Second, third and fourth loves in succession, deeply scarring in their start and end. The stark acceptance of dreams left behind. Indeed, lichdom had many appeals, one of which being that there would be no final grave next to his parents’. He had agonized over forewards of his books in editions published after his demise, mentioning a sparse trio of graves with no new names to add to the altar. The sharp edge of a lack of family in both directions; no parents, no lover, no children. It was only him and his work. The horrible ache of friendships thrown to the rocks. Johanna had been a slow but aching loss, one of the most memorable.

“So you didn’t get blown to bits! Aren’t you going to gloat? Volkarin the God Vanquisher! Pah!”

Even if she was still present in his life, and he had the slightest hope time would soften her to something less wretched (unlikely), the days where they could call each other friend were long gone. A new soreness bloomed, as he thought that the comfort of a friend who had been with him as long as she had would have been welcome.

Emmrich didn’t entertain a response to her jab. Nothing she said was going to soothe or even be remotely helpful. He’d be better off knocking on Taash’s door, who was actively melting everything in their room. Even now he could faintly hear a thud and a crash.

Poor, poor Taash. Their mother and now Lace.

Taash was not receptive to his approaches of comfort, but he was sure Rook would —

Ah. That’s right.

They had returned home from Tearstone Island three short. Lace Harding was undoubtedly dead, while Bellara was in all likelihood absorbed and dying a slow painful death by blight. Lovely ladies, very dear friends of his, the pair of them. Someone would need to water Harding’s plants, and he should organize Bellara’s scribbled notes to get them published for her. There were no remains to do anything with, and even if there were the others would have burnt them. Barbaric.

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday! Have some more of FDB's POV! They're finally out of the tree, FDB is still carrying an injured and exhausted DFS on his back, and he is currently trying to convince DFS (who is fighting to stay conscious) to let himself rest. (You can find all previous excerpts here.)

**

Fang Duobing smiled. At last, something he could do. “Alright, a-Fei. Home it is.”

For a moment, a-Fei relaxed even more against him. 

Then a-Fei stilled, all his muscles spasmed and clenched, and he jerked his head off Fang Duobing with a pained grunt, looking all around them.

“What’s wrong?” Fang Duobing asked, suddenly terrified. “Another qi deviation? An attacker? Do you need me to put you down? Or Yangzhouman?”

The ensuing silence seemed to last forever, although it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.  

“Home,” a-Fei said, his voice so wrecked it sounded like his throat had been sliced to ribbons. “To the left.” He swallowed audibly and tried again. “Around the hill.” 

Fang Duobing wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream, cry, shake a-Fei, or hold him tightly and never let go more. “It’s alright. We’ll find the way. I promise. Just rest. Try to sleep.”

Even as a-Fei shook his head, he was slumping forward. “Not yet,” he muttered. “Not here.” 

What was wrong with here? It was just a forest—

Oh. Fang Duobing winced. A-Fei had been unconscious in a forest after being cured of Wuxin Huai when Jiao Liqiao had kidnapped him the first time. 

“A-Fei,” Fang Duobing paused, trying to figure out what might convince him. “There are no enemies here. No danger. You can stop fighting now.”

A-Fei’s hair brushed against Fang Duobing’s shoulder as he shook his head again.“—’s always danger,” he mumbled. His head fell forward and landed on Fang Duobing’s neck again. He tried and failed to lift it again, then made a sound that was far too close to a whimper. 

Fang Duobing tried to breathe through the sudden, visceral need to travel to the past and make everyone who had ever hurt a-Fei and made safety a foreign concept wish they had never been born. “If we run into any danger, I’ll protect you, alright?”

A-Fei huffed a wet attempt at a laugh into his hair and his head twitched like he was trying and failing to shake it. “–’s my job, brat.”

Fang Duobing’s heart clenched as hundreds of proclamations tried to burst out from behind his closed lips: that a-Fei was in no shape to protect anyone at the moment, that protecting each other was all of their jobs and did a-Fei really think that his protection was all he had to offer? He was a person, not a dao! That a-Fei deserved to be protected, that a-Fei was protected now, and would continue to be as long as he, Fang Duobing, drew breath, and that no one would ever be able to harm him again. 

He swallowed them all back and tried to find an approach less liable to end in disaster. “It’s my job, too, a-Fei,” he said at last. “We can take turns, just like we’ve taken turns looking after Xiaohua’er. You already protected me, by helping with my qinggong. So now it’s my turn for a bit, alright?” He held his breath, hoping his words would convince a-Fei to stop fighting the pull of exhaustion, would let a-Fei’s clenched, shaking muscles lay down their tension. 

Nothing changed, although judging by the way a-Fei’s face rustled in his hair, a-Fei had rolled his eyes and raised a skeptical eyebrow, despite the pain and energy expenditure.

Well, there was one thing he hadn’t yet tried. And since a-Fei had thought that praising his qinggong was akin to rewarding Huli Jing’s new tricks with treats, then turn-about was fair play. Now, what precisely had a-Fei said? Ah, yes. “A-Fei?” He waited for a tired hum in response. “You did well, too. Good job. So rest, now, alright? As a reward.” 

A short pause. Then a-Fei’s faint, barely-there huff of amusement tickled the skin on the back of his neck. “–t’s not a new trick,” he said, so quietly Fang Duobing had to strain to hear it.

Fang Duobing smiled sadly and shook his head. Trust a-Fei to find a way to praise his own skills while barely conscious. And simultaneously to refuse to celebrate or rest. “I know. You always do well. You’ve had to. But you’re not alone anymore: you have us. And I know I’m not Xiaohua’er, and you don’t trust me like you trust him. But I promise, I will bring you to him and I won’t let anything get in the way. You’re safe, a-Fei. You can let go now, ok?”

There was a long pause. So long Fang Duobing wondered if he’d actually already lost consciousness.

A-Fei’s finger twitched, then gave Fang Duobing’s collarbone one last, faint tap.

Then a-Fei slumped against his back like a sack of rice. 

Fang Duobing closed his eyes, took a slow, deep breath, letting the crisp scent of the forest sink into his lungs and ground him until he felt less like he was about to cry or shake apart.

Huli Jing whined loudly, then nosed at Fang Duobing’s leg.

“I know,” Fang Duobing said. He swallowed, hiked a-Fei up higher on his back, and took a deep breath. “Lead us home, girl.”

Huli Jing took off, to the left, and around the hill.

Fang Duobing raced after her.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 11

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: Yo, things are getting intense at work.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

You leave a message for your landlord after several failed calls. You come out defeated and hesitant. Your apartment is your comfort, it's your safe space, but it's been breached and you're displaced here. As kind as Jonathan is, that can't last forever. He is your boss after all and you need your job.

The scent of cinnamon draws you to the kitchen, along with the subtle movement clinks and tinking inside. You lean on the doorframe as you watch Jonathan's back, the thin string of an apron tied around his waist and a thicker band along his neck. He hums as he pushes down the plunger of a glass coffee press.

"Uh, hi," you eke out and his long fingers nearly take off the lid of the press. He chuckles and steadies it, shifting to look at you, "er, morning."

"Morning, barely," he muses as he glances at the digital number glowing on the stove, "I've got some scones in and I think we could pair it well with some porridge, if you're fond of it. Or perhaps, yogurt and some fresh fruit. A touch of granola…"

"Yeah, uh, you didn't have to do all this," you rub the back of your neck, "I left my landlord a message. I should head out and figure out a locksmith–"

"Ah, yes, I forgot," he extends a finger, "I've taken care of all that. My own lessor had some recommendations and I was able to arrange the repair. The keys should be delivered shortly–"

"Oh," you blink and chew your lip. He's so helpful. Too helpful. Or maybe you're ungrateful. "Again, thanks, I… I owe you. For a lot it seems."

"I hope it wasn't too much," he says as he checks his watch and grabs the oven mitt, "I only thought to ease the burden–"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You have everything figured out and I'm just helpless," you throw your hands up and cover your face, immediately scalded by your own temper. Why did you say that? "I'm sorry. I'm just so stressed, I can't think. I just want everything to be normal and…" you suck in air, pressing the heels of your hands to your forehead as you rant, "and I'm not this kind of person. I'm the sort to…" you inhale again, dizzy as it stings in your chest, "I just… I just…"

You bend over, clutching your head as you feel like folding. You're startled as Jonathan's hand clasp around your arm and he pulls you up, gently guiding you to sit on the short foot stool beside the counter. He gets to his knees and grips your shoulders, holding you straight as your head lolls. You don't know what's going on, it's like you've lost control of your body.

"Fawn, breathe. Yes? Let's count, one - in," he exhales, "two - out," his thumbs caress you through your shirt, "in… out. Three, four…"

You focus and close your eyes. Are you really having a meltdown in your boss's home? You count in your head, then outloud, measuring you breaths until your heart peters out.

"There we go," he slowly releases you, putting his hands on his knees as he stands with a low grunt, "if the caffeine is too much, I can squeeze some orange juice–"

"I'm fine," you reach up and pull yourself to the feet with the edge of the counter, "really, you've done enough."

"I've done what any decent person would," he shrugs as he opens a cupboard, "you are obviously dealing with a full plate, but I can't help but feel I don't know the half of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Car break's down and you get a visit from a home intruder. A string of bad luck, certainly, and it would have anyone addled, but… there seems a bit more than that. Something that's been bothering you a while," he pours two mugs of coffee, "it isn't my place to delve into your personal life, but I will say, I would help if I could. If you asked."

You shudder. You don't know what to say. The plucking in your chest wants you to tell him everything but that tick in your head says it's none of his concern. You've crossed enough lines. 

He doesn't need to pick up after your stupid feelings. You made the dumb decision to crush on your neighbour, to welcome him in, to fawn over him like an unloved wife. Now you just have to deal with.

Hopefully, the new lock is just the beginning of shutting Colin out of your life.

"Really, it's just the car and the door. I'm sure you've got enough going on with the audit, huh," your voice shakes, betraying you.

"Ah, yes, standard," he places a cup before you, just on the corner of the counter, "I've done it before. Nothing out of the usual," he hooks his finger through the handle of his own mug, "well, one special thing; I don't mind the people." 

He smiles as he lifts his coffee and you feel the world brighten just a lt.

No. No. Not that feeling. Not that flutter. Didn't Colin teach you better? Oh boy. You're not thinking straight, you're tired, you haven't had your coffee, you're crazy!

You pick up your cup and blow out a chestful of air. Get your head on straight. One man at a time. No, one thing at a time.

💗

“You know, I don’t mind if you’d rather stay another night,” Jonathan keeps one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm slack against the armrest, “I can understand if you don’t feel safe–”

“No, I’m good. I just want to get back on track. Everything feels so… disorderly.”

“I know what you mean. Even if I tend to live a nomadic life. Some people thrive on being settled, others not so much,” he muses, “have you heard about your car? Do I need to keep Pine’s luxury taxi in service?”

“Taxi? Oh, I’m so sorry. No. I uh, I can take the bus. And I can spot you some gas money–”

“I’m joking, darling,” he assures with a ripple of his fingers, “I don’t mind. It’s nice to have someone else for the morning ride. I find waking up alone a bit sombre… in a strange city. I’m a far way from home.”

“Uh, yeah, I can’t imagine…”

“I recall you mentioned you’ve never visited England. Pity. You should think about it one day. If you need a personal tour guide…”

“Mmm, yeah, maybe someday. Probably not anytime soon,” you mull and turn your gaze out the window.

“Of course,” he agrees, “I shouldn’t complain so much, traveling for work can really be a privilege. I know at least, it has afforded me the luxury of meeting many good people.”

“Yeah,” you say absently as your vision blurs and your mind drifts.

“...sisters? You said you have some a few towns over?”

You shake yourself from your trance. Your head clears as you straighten in your seat.

“Yeah, my one sister is pregnant, another’s getting married, the other two… well, they’re younger, they’re still growing up,” you say, “don’t really see them much.”

“Lots going on. So there’s going to be a wedding?” He prompts, stopping at a light.

“Hm?”

“Your sister?”

“Er, yes, yeah, actually, I still haven’t got the invitation,” you chuckle nervously, “I’m sure it’s in the mail.”

“And are you a bridesmaid?”

“I… she didn’t say anything,” you utter. You hadn’t even thought of that.

“Well, I’m sure she has a lot to plan, in due time,” he cranks the wheel and pulls a U-turn to come parallel to the curb in front of your building, “you are delivered. Nice and safe.”

“Thanks again,” you grab your bag from your feet and hit the button on your seatbelt. “I really… I owe you.”

“You don’t,” he assures, “all I ask is that you text me. Let me know you’re safe and behind locked doors.”

“Huh, yeah, I can do that,” you almost sigh in relief.

It’s weird. You dread being alone but you long for it. Your solace has always been by yourself. You just have to keep Colin out and you’re hoping that Ally will already have him distracted. You think back to the day before and how eager she was to get him to herself. Yeah, he doesn’t care that much about you. That’s what started this all.

“Well, I’ll see you at work.”

“See you at work,” he returns, his tone as lacklustre as you ever heard it.

You get out, a tug of guilt at the nape of your neck. You feel like you should say something else but you don’t know what. You let the door close softly as you step onto the pavement. You head up the walk, not looking back, too embarrassed to.

You let yourself into the building and pull out the new key from the locksmith. It’s shiny and silver with a yellow thread strung through the eyehole. You ease the front door closed behind you and listen to the building. It’s quiet, mostly.

You climb the stairs one by one and peek down the hall before you come up completely onto the second floor. There’s no one there and your door is as it should be. Locked tight and on the hinges.

You make your way down towards it, carefully to keep your keys from jingling. Your bag falls down your elbow as you wiggle the lock, the new key not catching right away. A click and slow grind jars you and as you look over, you nearly scream.

Colin appears from behind Ally’s door. Shirtless, in his usual grey sweats, looking casually sinister as he places a hand on the door frame. He snickers as he steps out. You turn back and fumble to twist the handle.

As the door opens, he’s on you. He closes you in as he catches the handle and pulls the door shut. You whimper and turn to face him, cowering as he sneers at you. You press yourself to the wood as he crowds you.

“Think you can run away with that pretty boy?” He taunts, “think I wouldn’t be waiting?”

“Colin, I– I’m sorry–” you gulp and look over, “Ally…”

“She’s off on another work trip. Kinda like you, huh? Hanging out with her boss off the clock. You must’ve had a lot of fun.”

“Look, whatever I did, it’s… there’s been a misunderstanding, alright? We’re friends. We were… I’m sorry I misinterpreted–”

“Honey, you are so stupid. I’m not done with you.”

“Please–” you beg.

“Get this. You were the perfect girl. You cooked, you did my laundry, you let me use your Netflix, that’s what every guy wants but you’re just not fuckable,” he scoffs, “well, my perspective changed on that. You know,” he leans in further and lowers his voice. “I didn’t picture myself balls deep until I saw you shaking in fear.”

“Get away,” you croak and push against his chest, “I’ll scream.”

A subtle click mutes his response as he opens his mouth but clenches his teeth. He tilts his head and listens. You hear the deep grumble of your downstairs neighbour, Curtis? You can’t remember, you never see him. He waits and pokes his tongue into his cheek.

“You fucking scream and I’ll remember. I’ll make sure when I fuck you that it splits you in half. So be a nice girl, like you always are, and let me in.”

“Please,” you reach to grip the key, trying to free it from the lock. You could jab him with it, get him off of you for long enough to get inside.

“If you wanna pretend I’m that preppy fuck, I don’t m–”

He jerks and nearly headbutts you as he bounces off the doorframe beside you. He cradles his face as he grunts and you gape at Jonathan as he squares his shoulders and steps up. How?

“You will back away,” Jonathan warns, “go back to your pathetic apartment and stay there.”

“Ah, not this douche–” Colin slips his hand down his cheek, revealing the split in the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, this douche,” Jonathan confirms, “I smelled it on you. I knew you were nothing but a weasel.”

“Whatever. She’s been begging me for it,” Colin spits, “you know, she sits there and pouts, watches me from across the hall, listens to me through the wall as I fuck girls hotter than she’ll ever be, wishing it was her–”

Jonathan moves so quickly, it leaves you stunned. The crack of his fist against Colin’s face makes you yipe and you quiver as you catch your voice in your hands. You keep flush to the door as your eyes wet.

“I do not like violence,” Jonathan says as he rubs his knuckles, “but I am not unfamiliar with it.”

“Fucker!” Colin bends over, drops of his blood landing on the floor.

“If you persist, I’m afraid I must as well.”

“Urgh,” Colin stands straight and spits onto the hardwood, “just wait…” he looks past Jonathan, “he can’t be here all the time.”

He turns and stomps away, keeping his hand on his jaw as he snorts and coughs. You stare after him, shaking in humiliation. It all happened so fast.

Jonathan waits until Colin’s door slams before he turns to you. He puts his hand on your shoulder and you flinch, “why didn’t you tell me it was him?”

You shake your head and stick your lip out.

“I should’ve guessed,” he tuts, “twisted man. Absolutely repuls–”

“How did you get in here?”

“A man let me in. Downstairs. Um, beard, very blue eyes,” he explains.

“Why?”

He gives half a smile, “ah, you left this in the front seat,” he holds up your lip balm, “I was trying to return it.”

“Oh,” you glance past him, frowning at Colin’s door.

“Darling, I know you are growing tired of me but I simply cannot leave you alone.”

“Yeah,” you nod numbly and turn to the door, jerking the key to the side, “I don’t wanna be alone.”

[nandorisms]

Preview WIP: You're My Best Friend

Preview Summary: Basketball star Nandor realizes he's in love with his childhood best friend, Guillermo, who is about to marry his boyfriend, Freddie. With years of friendship at stake, Nandor must decide whether to confess his feelings or risk losing Guillermo forever.

"Well? What do you think?"

Guillermo’s voice was light, casual. Too casual. The kind of tone he used whenever he was trying to sound like he wasn’t searching for approval.

Nandor brushed a thumb over the thick ivory cardstock, pretending to study it.

The invitation was… wrong.

Everything about it— from the elegant, impersonal script and filigree,  to the weight of the paper, and how it felt stiff in his hands—this wasn’t Guillermo.

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mr. Frederick Ainsworth and Guillermo de la Cruz.

Cordially. Like their wedding was a polite business exchange. Like something distant and cold.

Instead of what it should’ve been.

Warm. Inviting. The way Guillermo was.

Not Guillermo and Freddie, together with their families invite you to celebrate their love and  commitment to one another, not something that spoke of home, of belonging, of love.

Not something Guillermo would’ve picked.

Nandor wondered if Guillermo had shown Freddie the homemade invitation he had shared with him. The one with pressed flowers from the box garden on his windowsill, handwritten flowing script, chantilly lace, silk ribbons, and a wax seal, all on homemade paper.

The one that was personal. That was Guillermo. 

Not whatever this was.

The silence stretched between them, just long enough for Guillermo to notice.

His smile fell, fingers curling slightly against the table.

Then, quieter, "you hate it."

Not a question. A statement.

Nandor looked up, watching as Guillermo’s expression shifted. He was still smiling, but it was thinner now, weaker. Braced.

Nandor opened his mouth—to deny it, to say something easier, something softer—but the truth sat too heavy on his tongue. 

Besides, even if he tried to lie, he and Guillermo both knew one another too well by now.

Thirteen years of friendship did that.

Well, at least for them.

Nandor didn’t think either of them knew anyone more than they knew each other.

So instead, he said, careful, “this is very Freddie.”

Guillermo snorted, picking up a french fry and flinging it at Nandor’s face. “You couldn’t have even tried to lie.”

The fry bounced off Nandor’s cheek, landing unceremoniously on the table. He blinked down at it before lifting his gaze back to Guillermo.

Then, deliberately, he picked up the fry, lifted it slowly to his mouth, and took a bite.

"I could have," he said, chewing thoughtfully. "But you would have known."

Guillermo huffed out a laugh,  popping a french fry into his mouth. “You’re right. Even if we weren’t best friends, you’d still be a notoriously bad liar.”

Nandor scoffed, offended, reaching over to grab the pickle off of Guillermo’s burger. "I have no idea what you are talking about. I will have you know that I’m an excellent liar."

Guillermo reached over, plucking the raw onions off of Nandor’s burger and putting it on his own. “Maybe we should call your lawyer and see if he agrees.”

Nandor narrowed his eyes, chewing the pickle he’d just stolen.

"We should call him and ask," he said, already reaching for his phone in his pocket.

Guillermo’s eyes widened. "Don’t you dare."

Nandor smirked, thumbing through his contacts. "Too late. You have insulted both my integrity and Laszlo’s legal prowess, and I—"

"Nandor."

"—will not stand for this slander."

"Put the phone down."

"I think he should have a chance to defend himself—"

"Nandor, I swear to God—"

Too late. The call was already dialing.

Guillermo groaned, slumping back in his seat.

The phone barely rang twice before a far too chipper voice answered.

"Ah, my dearest client and perpetual source of income! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Guillermo threw his hands up. "Jesus Christ."

Nandor leaned back, crossing his legs with obnoxious confidence.

"Laszlo, my dear friend and esteemed legal counsel, I need you to clear something up for us."

"Ah, of course! Is this about the tax loophole I discovered in your alimony settlements? Because I stand by my genius—"

"No," Guillermo sighed. “It’s not.”

"Then is this about the exciting new marriage contract I drafted in case you should decide to tie the knot for a fifth time?"

Nandor shifted in his seat, twisting the ring on his small finger.

Four marriages.

Four failures.

The number weighed on him more than it should have.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried.

He had been a good husband. He had been loyal. He had done what was expected.

And yet, somehow, he had never been able to hold onto it. Any of it.

Even when he was there, it felt like he was always somewhere else.

Because home never seemed to feel like home.

And maybe that was because home wasn’t a place. It never had been.

He had spent years searching for it, chasing it from person to person.

First with Gail. Then Jan. Then Meg—his personal trainer turned wife—who, after Nandor caught her in their marriage bed with one of the Knick’s City Dancers, admitted to being a lesbian.

And then, finally, Marwa.

Each time, he thought he had found it.

Each time, he thought—this is the one. This is where I belong.

And yet, somehow, it was never enough.

Or maybe he was never enough.

Or worse—maybe he was too much.

He cleared his throat, forcing down the lump rising in it.

"That’s not—"

His voice came out rougher than he meant it to, and he immediately dropped his hand from the ring, setting both palms flat against the table.

Guillermo, still holding the phone, tilted his head slightly, watching him.

Then, without a word, he reached out and gave Nandor’s hand a quick squeeze.

"What Nandor meant to say was, that's not what we're calling you about."

Not much. Barely a second. Just enough to say, I’m here. Just enough to pull Nandor out of whatever place his thoughts had dragged him to.

And just like that, Nandor felt steadier. Grounded. Held.

Guillermo had always been good at that. Had always known when to push and when to let things go, when to joke, when to reach for him like this, and hold him—quietly, naturally, like no one else ever has, without asking or expecting anything in return.

And Nandor had let him.

For thirteen years, he had let Guillermo reach for him, pull him back, steady him.

For thirteen years, Guillermo had been the one person who had never let go.

And soon, Nandor would have to.

Even if he didn’t want to.

Even if he thought this whole marriage idea was a mistake.

Even if he thought Freddie was…

Bland.

A perfectly fine, perfectly decent, perfectly dull man.

Freddie wasn’t bad. That was the worst part.

He wasn’t cruel, or selfish, or unkind. He was just… there.

Like IKEA furniture.

Functional. Sturdy. A good, sensible choice for when you’re just moving into a new home.

Something you picked because it was easy and available, not because it was meant to last forever.

And Guillermo deserved so much more than sensible.

But it wasn’t Nandor’s choice to make.

So, soon, he would have to let him go.

Nandor swallowed, his fingers twitching slightly under Guillermo’s touch before he pulled back.

The space between them was quiet.

Just for a second.

Long enough for something to settle.

Long enough for something to slip through the cracks.

And then—

Laszlo’s voice crackled through the speaker, completely ruining it.

"Oh, then what are you calling about?" Squeak of a chair. "If you two are about to finally confess your undying love to one another, I would rather you wait until I can find my good lady wife—so she can hear it too and I can win our bet."

Guillermo didn’t even blink. “You two have a bet?”

Nandor, however, bluescreened.

Crashed.

Like his baba’s old Windows 98 computer—the one he’d tried, and failed, to replace.

That was Nandor’s brain now.

Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it?

This feeling he felt whenever he was with Guillermo.

Like no matter how long they were apart, or how far he traveled, with Guillermo—even if it was just a phone or Discord call, while Nandor sat in another hotel room—he still felt at home.

Love.

Nandor loved him.

"We do," Laszlo answered, his desk chair squeaking in the background. "One that will earn me a free pass to pursue a sexual encounter with our next-door neighbor, Sean, if you two knob-lords can finally admit to the obvious."

"Fuck off, Laszlo,” Guillermo laughed, taking a sip of Nandor’s milkshake and setting it down in front of him, “we’re not calling you about that. We just need you to help us settle an argument.”

“An argument, you say?” Laszlo’s tone shifted, sounding far too delighted for a man who was not only on his payroll, but who had systematically turned his life upside down.

Or... right side up?

Nandor didn’t know anymore.

He was still buffering—stuck on a loading screen—so much so that not even Clippy could help him at this point.

Because his entire life had just collapsed in on itself and Guillermo was drinking his milkshake.

With his lips.

His very pretty lips.

The same lips Nandor had never really thought about before.

Except for all the times he had.

Which, now that he was thinking about it, was actually quite a lot.

Oh no.

“Yes, an argument,” Guillermo mumbled around the straw. “Is Nandor a bad liar, yes or no?”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, Laszlo answered, far too seriously, “…define terrible.”

Guillermo burst into laughter—the warm, belly-full kind that made his eyes sparkle, his head tip back, and his cheeks flush a pretty pink, all the way to the tip of his cute nose.

How had Nandor never noticed how beautiful Guillermo was before?

How many years had he wasted, looking but never really seeing?

All the little moments. All of the missed opportunities. All of the what could have been's.

Lost.

Because he was afraid.

Afraid that he would lose the one constant in his life—the one person who had always held him together, even when he couldn’t hold himself.

The one person who never judged, never left, never gave up on him.

Afraid that seeing it, really seeing Guillermo, would change everything.

And Nandor was right.

Because he had seen Guillermo now. Really seen him. And it had certainly changed everything.

“Nuh, uh,” Guillermo said, trying to catch his breath, “you can’t lawyer your way out of this question. It’s a simple yes or no.”

A beat of silence, then, “he’s not, not a bad liar—”

“You’re a fucking terrible lawyer,” Guillermo laughed, reaching to dip one of his fries in Nandor’s tiny bowl of gravy, “I don’t know why Nandor keeps you on retainer.” 

Laszlo scoffed, “I will have you know that I received the finest education at Eton and Harvard, two institutions of immense renown, so I think I’m more than capable and thoroughly deserving of being on my client’s retainer.”

Guillermo snorted.

Fuck. Even that Nandor found cute. 

“Didn’t you call the judge a bitch in your last trial?” Guillermo asked, picking up his burger and taking a bite. 

“I meant bench,” Laszlo replied, shuffling some papers over the phone,  “It was a simple miscommunication, a little Freudian slip of the tongue, nothing too egregious. Besides, the judge was a bitch. And I still won that case.”

Guillermo set his burger down, wiping his fingers on his already battered up napkin.

Nandor pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and handed them to Guillermo, ignoring the spark of electricity that ran through him like a live wire when their hands brushed, or the way his heart pounded painfully in his chest when Guillermo gave him a wide, grateful smile and mumbled a soft, "Thanks."

Nandor was so fucked.

“Well, you didn’t win this one,” Guillermo teased, “we both know that Nandor can’t lie, and when he tries or does, he always gives himself away.”

Nandor cleared his throat, his fingers playing with the straw, tracing the outline of it, where Guillermo's lips had been just moments ago. “I’m not a bad liar,” he mumbled, his voice quiet, almost to himself.

Guillermo raised an eyebrow, still eating his fries. “Uh-huh.”

“He’s right, you know,” Laszlo drawled lazily from the other end of the line, his voice muffled slightly by the phone. “You can’t lie. You’re like an open book, Nandor. Every emotion, every feeling, it’s all written right on your face. Hell, I don’t even need to be in the same room to tell when you’re in a state.” More shuffling of papers. "Which is why Marwa got so much in the divorce. You can't hide a damned thing."

Nandor froze. Laszlo wasn’t wrong. He had never been good at hiding what he was feeling—not even with the smallest gestures. His feelings were always these big, wild, untameable things that could not be contained, and seemed to burst out of him regardless of the situation. Which is why he was no longer allowed to do press interviews for the NY Knicks without a script.

But for this... for Guillermo, there was no script.

No rehearsed lines. No safe answers. Just the raw truth that could spill out of him at any moment and ruin everything if he wasn't careful.

[kittonafoxgirl]

Hi!! 👋 For the podficcer asks, please: #2, 11, 12 ❤️

Thank you for the ask :3 questions are from this AO3 wrapped podficcer edition list

#2 How may podfics did I publish this year?

29 solo and 26 multivoice. I'm not the one who posted most of the multivoice ones but I assume they still count since I'm in them.

I have four more that are for sure going up before the end of the year (all obikin. Three Christmas ones and my second big bang project) and several podfics I made earlier in the year that I'd really like to get posted before January (these are a variety of things).

#11 what podfic took me the longest to make?

So I can't say I timed these so I don't know for sure which one took the longest, but there's three that definitely stand out as ones I spent a lot of time on.

The Odyssey - I did Odysseus and his lines were only ~30k ish and I wasn't doing anything fancy to them, but recording took forever because I was constantly having to triple check my name pronunciation. Odysseus has a thing for mentioning people's names. So. Many. Names.

This one isn't fully posted, but I did finish recording my part for it

Of Queens, Knights, and Pawns - I ended up personally recording nearly twice as much of this one as I'd originally planned (~80k recorded so far. 55k ish of that is posted). I have one more 14k chunk to record and I'm donnnneeee with my part of it. We only have 3 chapters left to post so hoping they'll be up by the end of the year.

My second obikin big bang podfic which I don't think I'm allowed to mention the title of yet. It was also around 30k and it has an "I lost count before I even finished chapter one" number of sound effects in it that I have spent hours adding and tweaking. I'm very excited to share it :3 It posts next Monday, the 9th

#12 what podfic plans do I have for next year?

I really really want to finish one or two of my three long wips. (Preferably two. Buttt I'm easily distracted by shiny things (read: new shorter projects))

Oh where do we begin? I have 6 of 30 chapters finished and posted. I'm almost 7 hours into what will be somewhere in the neighborhood of 26 hours when it's done.

Asylum I have 12 of 33 chapters finished and posted. Roughly 5 hours into what will be ~19 hours.

Precipice I have 9 of 83 chapters done and posted. Only about 2 hours into this one and it'll be roughly 24 hours finished.

Oh where do we begin? Is the priority because I've been working on it the longest and because it's the fic that got me obsessed with obikin. It is fantastic, highly recommend. But ah, read the tags first.

Then once I don't have 3 massive wips hanging over my head, I'm going to start recording Priciples of Navigation. It's only 145k so a lil smaller than these guys 😂

Super excited to work on that one, but I cannot add it to the pile til at least one of these beasts is finished.

And of course I intend to let myself get distracted by several smaller obikin works throughout the year :3

[yellowocaballero]

NCAU Rex for the WIP titles?

I got this ask just as I was doing NCAU Rex lmfaoooo!!!

Here's Anakin, then. Anakin actually became way more of an important character in the rewrite, somewhat unfortunately. You get a certain perspective of him in Obi-Wan's story, and another perspective in Rex's. He had to be important in Rex's story - Anakin is the center of Rex's life. He's the meaning and purpose of it. Kind of. Rex thinks so.

As I said, the stories are very much about why good people do bad things. You'd think that would be Anakin's narrative. It honestly isn't. But you do feel kind of bad for him after a while.

Just to set the record straight: Rex was a hero. 

They were all heroes. Loyal soldiers first, obviously, in place to support the real protagonists of the galaxy, but every clone was a personal hero of the Empire. They were the ones with the holy mission. They would be the ones on the front lines, fighting to the preserve the Republic against the evil forces of the CIS until it was time to revolt against the Republic, kill the Jedi, and enforce galactic peace. 

And Rex? The Marshal Commanders, the clone commanders, the best of the best? They would be the ones who would make the Empire happen.

Which was a good thing. Everybody said so. Everybody said so - the flash trainings, the Kamino, the trainers, Jango Fett while rolling his eyes and actually mocking everybody else. Boba if he wanted to be included. It barely even needed to be said. Sometimes Rex felt as if he’d been born knowing that. 

He hadn’t been born knowing why the Empire was good, but he didn’t stop and ask himself that question until six months into the war. Ironically - or maybe just statistically - it was pretty much Vader’s fault. 

They were in a shitty dive bar on Planet Who Cared. They had just conquered - uh, sorry, ‘liberated’ - it from the nasty CIS oppressors, and the city itself had been completely evacuated before the bombings started. Combing through the rubble searching for the secret CIS headquarters that Vader had been reliably reassured definitely existed, they had found a miraculously untouched bar. Rex and Vader had called in a very serious investigation into the underground headquarters, high fived, and started drinking through the place. 

Absolutely alone, free of all prying eyes or thoughtful cameras, Vader really opened up. Rex constantly refilling his glass helped. 

“You know what I like about you?” Vader said, jabbing a finger at Rex. It was the fact that Rex always spoke his mind and didn’t act like Vader was better because he was a Jedi. “It’s how you always speak your mind. You don’t treat me like I’m better just ‘cause I’m a Jedi. ‘Cause I’m not. The person giving you orders isn’t better than you. Fuck, the people in charge are always the worst. People telling you what to do - are bad. Very bad!”

“Hate to say it, but being told what to do is how it works in the military,” Rex said, amused despite himself. He took a sip of his beer. Vader thought Rex got drunker way more frequently than he actually did. Once or twice - ah, let’s not mention that to Cody. Or Fox. “Can’t see many ways I’m better than you, sir. But I can think of a dozen ways we’re better than the rest of ‘em.”

Vader laughed, light and drunken. “You can read faster than me! I still suck at reading.”

“Reading?” Vader could out-shoot, out-memorize, out-run and out-fly Rex. And Rex could out-anything almost everybody else. It was very humbling, and only reinforced what a strong and amazing leader Vader was. “You can do anything, sir, you have to be great at reading.”

But Vader just snickered into his drink, looking at the far wall of the bar. Many of the glass bottles were shattered, and the air stank of a unique mix of a dozen varieties of flash-fried alcohol. “When I was a kid I could read bits and pieces of Huttese. Specific stuff. Could read an instruction manual for a starfighter but not a, uh, fuckin’ picture book. Took me forever to learn how to read Basic. Maybe I could’a gotten it faster, but everybody was always making me feel like shit for not knowing how to do it. I got so embarrassed. Refused to practice. Classes didn’t help…but Master let me learn at my own pace, so I got it eventually. Eventually, right?”

Reading? Rex learned how to read when he was a year old. Rex knew how to read ten languages, just to cover his bases. 

There had to have been some sort of expression on his face, because Vader huffed a laugh. He drained his glass, letting it clatter back onto the bar. “You got no idea why, do you.”

He absolutely did. “No, sir.”

“Sir. Sir…” Vader’s expression darkened, and he hunched his shoulders over the bar. “I’m so big. I’m so adult. Educated men callin’ me sir. Go me. Yay. I never dreamed of this.”

“Sir…?” The briefing had not given him a reply for this. He honestly didn’t know what the hell Vader was going on about. And he usually did! Vader and Rex were always on the same wavelength. Rex bragged that they could read each other’s minds. 

“Man, I was stupid. I wanted everybody to know what I could do, how great I was. Respect, everyone would respect me. But - I just wanted to be as good as everyone else. My biggest, greatest dreams. I was only as good as everyone else. But I went from worse to better. I’m still…”

Rex was silent. He just refilled his glass. Did he say something? It had taken him a while to figure it out, but Vader wanted comfort sometimes. Even natborns wanted that.

After a second’s grappling, Rex said, “I went from being a defect to being the best of the best.” AKA, serving directly under you. “But my brothers never treated me any differently. You just gotta find other people like you, eh? Everybody’s got somebody who understands ‘em.” A little more practiced, he said, “Hell, sir, you understand me. Forgive me for being presumptuous, but I think I understand you. We can tackle the galaxy together, can’t we?”

“There’s nobody out there like me,” Vader said, simple and sure. He said it with such certainty - as if it wasn’t just an opinion or an insecurity, but a truth that span the galaxy. He was probably right. “But thanks, Rex. You’re - just a really nice guy. But you don’t -”

“You don’t make me feel like I have to hang out with you, I don’t feel pressured to hang out with you, and I’m here ‘cause I want to be.” Rex had said that so often. Vader still kept making him say it. Rex would worry that it didn’t sound authentic, but it was even true. 

“Oh. Cool.” Vader thought hard, before something clearly occurred to him. He scrambled fully upright, and he grabbed Rex by the shoulder. Strangely, almost frantically, he said, “I’m never going to hit you, Rex! You’ll always have food, any time you want, okay? I’ll keep you alive no matter what, you aren’t - aren’t disposable or expendable or cheap. I won’t even yell at you! You know, right?”

“Uh,” Rex said, “...yeah?”

“I’m not going to beat you!” Vader said fervently, and there was something in his powerful blue eyes that Rex didn’t like to see. “I’m not that kind of person, I’ll never do that, so don’t be scared!”

“Sir, I didn’t think you would?!”

“Oh. Awesome.” Vader settled back, beaming happily and more than a little drunkenly at him. “Just watch, Rex. I’ll end this war for us. We’ll be free of all of this. And we’ll be real, actual friends, right? No more titles, no more generals or captains or sirs. It’ll just be us, without that bullshit in the way. I won’t be able to hurt you at all. Me and Padme are gonna be free and happy. I’m gonna stay home, take care of the kids, and I’ll support her being her super-awesome self. I’ll make her lunches! I’ve always wanted to make somebody’s lunches for them. It’s so domestic.”

Vader had spilled the oil on him and Amidala months ago. Rex sympathized. It had to have been murder keeping your marriage to one of the most attractive, talented, accomplished, and prestigious women in the galaxy secret. Or so described by Vader. Amidala was…fine. A little unsettling. She looked at Rex too hard, harder than almost any natborn did. As if she was actually seeing him or some ridiculous shit like that. “Husband of the year, you’ll be.”

“What are you gonna do once you’re free, Rex? Keep bees? Write a book? Find love, settle down? It can be whatever, you know!” Vader leaned against the bar, warming up to his own fantastical idea. “Every year, we can have a 501st reunion at Padme’s - our! - lake house. Big, blow-out party, with more booze than you’ve seen in your life. It’ll make Padme roll her eyes, but it’ll be her chance to have a lady’s trip with her old handmaidens. Man, Rex, you gotta see those views, you’ll love going diving and swimming with me.”

Rex had a thought that he didn’t know he could have. Or maybe he just knew that he shouldn’t. 

It was scary. He wasn’t in the habit of having thoughts he shouldn’t have. Rex had worked too hard to be perfect to have little slip-ups like that. Was this the defect shining through? It had to be. Only defects would have such defective thoughts. 

Darth Vader didn’t want to be Darth Vader. 

He…wanted to be a househusband. A father. The Sith treasured power, control, and dominance. Vader just wanted to be accepted. To walk in a crowd of others, indistinguishable from the rest, laughing and free. Whatever his dreams were, whatever he chased or fought for, it was the life he wanted. 

Well, he’d figure out that the Empire was good eventually! He was just brainwashed by Jedi propaganda. Not even Lord Vader was immune to his twisted Jedi upbringing. Vader just hadn’t found the power of the Sith and the beauty of the Empire yet. No big deal. People changed! And Vader would change to want Darth Vader! 

“I want to be at your side,” Rex said. He winked. “Captain of your guard, eh?”

Vader beamed. “Sounds perfect!”

And if captain of the guard still had captain in the name - if it would keep Rex subordinate, adoring, obedient - then it was what Vader secretly wanted after all. 

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenever

Tagged by @skyrim-forever and @sulphuricgrin thanks for sticking with me. tagging @vehksfingerguns @firefly-factory @moriche for no pressure things.

I've been up and down a lot lately health wise so writing and painting has been difficult, but I decided I wanted to share both Joshi's half done tattoos and a snippet between him and Erra that I wrote a few months ago and haven't shared.

He's getting there. I'm really liking this portrait so far.

Writing under the cut since i'm shoving in 2000 words because I just really wanted to share this scene. I understand if its too much to tackle.

“I see Nanaya’s taken a shine to you, Agent.”

Teldryn jumped, almost falling off his seat at the sudden appearance of his guide. He had thought the mer was still fast asleep. Or he had been, last he checked…how long ago was that now? He had no idea.

Gods his chest hurt.

Erra folded his arms and leaned against the table Teldryn had been sitting at. He looked better, though incredibly tired. The colour had returned to his cheeks at least. He’d pulled his hair into a low, messy tail at the base of his neck, the hair, though knotted, rested over his shoulder. He’d clearly just woken up then. For a moment, Teldryn worried that he’d been too loud. He hadn’t recalled making any noise, but he tended to hum if he was busy.

Then he noticed Erra eyeing the plate full of sweets between them. He hadn’t recalled the mer eating much in the last few days…

“I mean if your sister-in-law wants to keep making me this ‘chak’ stuffthen I won’t complain,” Teldryn smiled a little as he pushed the plate a little closer towards his guide, “You want one?”

Erra nodded, reaching for a handful of the sticky treats and shovelling them into his mouth, “Thank you, I am starving!”

Teldryn looked up at him, his hands resting on the table, “When was the last time you kept something down, anyway?”

Erra shrugged, swallowing his food before answering him, “I do not quite remember, maybe before we left Maar Gan. I do not recall if we stopped on the way?”

Teldryn leaned back a little, raising his eyebrows, “Yeah, that’s three days, Erra. I—”

He shook his head and held his hand up, Teldryn took it as a sign to shut his damn mouth. Erra sighed and rubbed at his temple, “I apologise, I did not intend for this to happen. I know that you are on a tight schedule and I—”

“Aye, I don’t think you control whatever that was, yeah?” Teldryn interrupted, the last thing he wanted was to have his guide apologising to him over something that Teldryn most likely caused, “If anything, I should be apologising to you.”

“You have already apologised to me,” Erra stated flatly. He tilted his head and folded his arms, “It is not because of you that I had an attack… well, not just you.”

Teldryn swallowed, reached for the bottle of matze he’d taken from his pack earlier and took a sip. He was confused, nervous, unsure…being out of his element like this was doing a number on his anxieties.

“But I contributed to it, yeah?” Teldryn asked, his voice cracking again, “I’m apologising for that. I ah…”

“I told you that this was all…complicated?” Erra sighed, looking away from him, “I do not return here often, and such reunions are… Wobbly?” He raised his eyebrow at Teldryn and rocked his hand from side to side.

“Awkward?” Teldryn added.

“Yes, that is it,” Erra smiled, their eyes finally meeting again, “It is awkward to come back here.”

“Things seem okay between you an your brother, though?” Teldryn mused as he took another sip of matze, “I mean I don’t know what you’re saying but it didn’t seem too hostile?”

“It is not my brother or his wife that I have conflict with, agent,” Erra sighed, “There are others who would not be— pleased to see me.”

“Is that why we skirted the camp when we arrived?” Teldryn asked, placing the now emptied bottle on the far corner of the table.

Erra nodded, “I was not quite prepared to introduce you officially to the tribe. It is—”

“You could barely speak, Erra,” Teldryn interrupted, leaning back in his seat, “I get it.”

Erra exhaled and reached over for the plate of sweets again, “I do not make it a habit to leave my clients alone for so long.”

Teldryn shook his head, “How about we call it even, aye? Besides, I’ve been fine keeping myself occupied.”

Erra’s gaze switched to the mess of papers, scrawlings and charts that covered the table he was resting on, his eyes widening a little, “I can see that. What is it, if you do not mind my ah…”

Teldryn smiled and reached for the charcoal rubbing he’d made of the tablet, “I’m copying down stuff from this.”

Erra reached for the rubbing, his eyes darting from one side of the image to the other, “There are scribbles on it.”

Teldryn nodded, standing so that he could better explain what he was doing to his guide, “See how it’s all in lines, yeah?”

Erra nodded, his eyes following Teldryn’s finger as he pointed at the more visible lines of Aldmeris, “The scribbles are organised?”

Teldryn blew a shock of air through his nose in an attempt to stifle laughter. He nodded at Erra, a wide smile still spread across his face as he noticed the other mer blush. He hadn’t expected to be detailing his research to his guide but the prospect of sharing what he’d found out excited him. He figured indulging his own excitement might be okay.

“See the top line here?” Teldryn pointed to the first line of text at the very top of the rubbing, “And then that one underneath it?” He pointed to the next line, watching as Erra’s attention moved as he directed, “These are two different writing systems that say the same thing… I think.”

Erra furrowed his brow, “Why would you need two writings to say the same thing?”

“Two separate languages, sera,” He explained, tapping the top of the page again, “See this more flowy one up here?”

Erra nodded, his gaze focused on Teldryn’s finger.

“I know what these letters say, yeah?” Teldryn grinned, moving his finger down to the more geometric symbols that sat underneath the Aldmeris, “But no one can read these more square ones. I’m hoping that I can prove that the bottom line is a Dwemeri translation of the top line. We already know that they started writing in Aldmeris as their empire declined. Wouldn’t surprise me if there were like documents and stuff written in both.”

“So, you’re copying down the one you can read?” Erra asked, his voice a little soft.

He nodded, “Yeah, then I copy the Dwemeris underneath an try to find letter matches. It’s not a one-for-one, if it was I’m sure someone would’ve figured it out ages ago.”

“So that is what all these notes and drawings are?” Erra asked, pointing at the pile of papers to Teldryn’s immediate right. He nodded and reached for the page he’d just been scribbling on.

“I think I’ve managed to find a letter S,” Teldryn grinned, tapping the paper in his hand, “It doesn’t come up much but I’m seeing it repeated consistently enough to draw a conclusion, I think. Though I also think maybe it’s making a Z sound. I don’t know…”

“You also drew a scrib…” Erra smiled.

Teldryn felt his cheeks grow a little hot as he glanced back down at the page, a small doodle of a scrib eating a flowed sat in the corner, “I ah… Helps me think.”

He quickly put the paper to the side, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He was embarrassed by it, some childish thing that he’d never quite grown out of. Drawing helped get his thoughts out, he just found that he could better break a cypher if he drew a small mushroom at the bottom of the page or whatever.

“It is cute,” Erra smiled, “Writing is not something that is common here. I did not learn it until I had moved west.”

“I think Hassour mentioned something about you guys not really being into it,” Teldryn mumbled, reaching for one of the last chaks in the bowl, “So what made you learn?”

Erra sighed as he readjusted his position so that he was sitting on the table’s corner, “You cannot sell your services as a guide to outsiders if you cannot formally ask for payment it seems. One’s word is not binding.”

Teldryn sighed before taking a bit of his dessert, “I suppose that makes sense.”

“It is not as if we do not write,” Erra explained, placing his hands on the table as he leaned back a little, “it is just that why we write and who is taught how to is a little different.”

“You mean Ashlanders don’t keep meticulous records of public latrine usage hour to hour?” Teldryn joked.

Erra chuckled and shook his head, “No, but sometimes I think that might be a useful reason to write. No, writing amongst Ashlanders is usually restricted to seers. They write upon chitin and throw it in the hearth to ask questions of the ancestors.”

“You use it for magic?” Teldryn asked, folding his arms. He noticed that his splint was feeling a little loose, and he moved to tighten the knot in his bandage.

Erra nodded, “Magic is done differently than how you have been taught. It is more—” Erra exhaled sharply and bit down on his lip, “I do not know the word, but it is how we worship our ancestors.”

“I wouldn’t say I was taught all that much,” Teldryn scoffed, “So writing an magic are religious things?”

“They are one and the same, yes.” Erra sighed, his shoulders relaxing a little.

“So, you guys don’t use it in battle or—”

“That, Agent is where it gets a little complicated,” Erra smiled, his gaze falling to the floor, “Those who have magic belong to our seer casts. A small group of these seers are what your settled people call ‘battle mages’ but they still revere the ancestors before battle in a way that is proper.”

Teldryn nodded, “So it's stratified?”

“Stratified?” Erra furrowed his brow in confusion, “I do not—”

“I mean like it’s grouped,” Teldryn clarified, “So your mages do only mage things an—”

“Yes,” Erra nodded, “In a way, certain clans do certain jobs within a camp. My clan are seers and warriors.”

“So, you’d have experience with writing then?” He asked, raising his brow.

Erra waved his hand from side to side again, “Somewhat. I was trained as a warrior, my brother was trained as both since his magic flows freely. Mine requires that I use enchantments.”

“Flow freely?” Teldryn asked, “Haven’t heard that term used to describe magic users.”

“I think it is not a problem outside Ashclans,” Erra sighed, “We have…made it so that free-flowing magic is more common amongst the women in our clans. Warriors who are born with free magic we only teach ash magic that— ah it is not important.”

Teldryn took in a deep breath, obviously, Erra was trying to fill him in on custom as Cosades had instructed. A part of him had forgotten that Erra was here on business, “So how would I conduct myself about camp? Since I’m a mage with a prick.”

Erra looked a little taken aback by his language and he realised he was being a little forward. He sighed and shook his head, “I mean with all this hospitality stuff, I don’t know shit about it.”

“Clan restrictions should not apply to you,” Erra replied with a heavy sigh, “You are not a part of the tribe, so these restrictions are not of your concern. Well, not until you are named clanfriend at the very least.”

“Clanfriend?” Teldryn tilted his head, “What’s that?”

Erra sighed, “It means what you think it means. You would be allowed to move freely within the clan, but you would also be subject to our laws and customs just as any full member would.”

Teldryn nodded, his shoulders tensing a little, “So…?”

“It will not matter unless you can speak with the Ashkhan,” Erra continued, “And you cannot have an audience with my uncle without first getting permission from his Gulakhan.”

“Uncle?” Teldryn smirked at the mer, “The Ashkhan’s your uncle?”

Erra groaned and rolled his eyes, “Great Uncle, to be more precise.”

Teldryn relaxed his shoulders again and leaned backwards in his chair, his hands clasping behind his head, “So what does that make you then?”

“Nothing!” Erra clipped back as he got to his feet, his hands balled into fists by his side, “Forgive me, I must go speak with my brother. Can we speak again once I am… a little more rested, Agent?”

Teldryn swallowed, his heart sinking at his guide’s sudden change of tone. He hung his head and nodded, letting Erra slip away and leaving him alone in their silent tent. The winds of the ashlands lightly lapped at the surrounding canvas that he had learned was brimming with sound-dampening enchantments and wards.

He had been enjoying his conversation with his guide, though it was obvious that, just like before when they were travelling the ashwastes, Erra was keeping details from him. He wondered just what it was that put his guide so on edge. He had let slip that his relationship with his clan was complicated and Teldryn drew the conclusion that whatever bad blood had passed between Erra and the clan was none of his business. He was no stranger to the complexities of navigating one’s own blood. It was not his favourite topic to discuss either.

Teldryn had resolved to keep his mouth shut on the matter. He would do his best to follow Erra’s instructions, gather the information he needed, write his dumb reports for Cosades and then go from there.

Ideally, he’d like to be rid of this Nerevarine business as soon as possible. He was still finding Cosades’ revelations to be laughable. The notion that he, of all people, would fit the constraints of the Nerevarine prophecies was fucking ridiculous! The fact that this was even being entertained was fucking stupid!

And yet had the Emperor not hallucinated Teldryn’s face in a dream, he might still be wasting away in his cell in the Bastion. It was stupid, there was no doubting that but that same stupidity was why he had some modicum of freedom.

Teldryn groaned and reached for his cigarette tin, he’d go outside and try to clear his head. Forget that he was essentially spying for the fucking Empire for five fucking minutes.