#anyways I didn't have enough energy to draw that much but my mind has been cooking up so many ideas >:o] I'll get to it eventually

[commandertartarsmoocher]

Overlorder/Smollusk & Commander Tartar doodles because I think they'd make a great team.

[rewritingcanon]

( hi is the person who sent you those next gen hcs. Sorry if this bothers you but I decided to make a part 2, hopefully better formated of more hcs or just expanding on the past ones. My interpretation of them!)

About the teddy lupin hc with his teeth- yes! He would most likely mess up his teeth worse then they already were so Andromeda had to get him braces despite his protests and begging. After being straped to the chair and wearing them for like 2 years his tooth gap was still there SO HE DID ALL THAT FOR NOTHING. (biggest L he's ever taken)

Lilly wears lots of colorful and wacky earrings just like aunt luna. They probably trade pairs or something.

James sirius is really into cinema especially horror. He loves being scared and most of the time he just laughs at the jumpscares. I also feel like he has written entire analysis in his head on the things he's fixated on but doesn't have the energy to write them down so he just rants about his favorite stuff to his family.

Victoire was the one making moves on teddy not the other way around. This made bills distaste for teddy even worse cause he wasn't even the one doing anything 🙄

Albus's room is filled with action figures, stuffed animals, posters ect of all the stuff he enjoys. Like people always talk about how much of a loser scorpius is but not so much albus. Trust me though he goes to bed reading fanfiction and was most definitely "the weird kid" at school. Probably grew up watching markiplier and jacksepticeye.

Teddy gives me those vibes where every time something happens teddy just goes "don't worry, I know a guy" and proceeds to fix the problem.

Victoire is really close to her maternal grandpa because everyone on the weasley family had lost stuff to the war including her parents so her grandfather was 1 of the only people in her family that didn't have any tragedy on her birthday so he was one of the few people who celebrated it without any sadness about the day. Then later teddy did as well.

Albus likes to draw and several pages of his sketch book is dedicated to just scorpius.

So when it comes to scorpius's appearance I kinda wrestled with it because on one hand there's no way he's not attractive because his mother is Astoria. Not even draco too just Astoria is enough to make that kid divine looking but if he was super pretty then there's no way he wouldn't be asked out even if it was just for shallow reasons. So in my head he is pretty but looks like a corpse. He has eye bags, beauty marks all over his body he's pale and skinny too so he doesn't look human. Albus of course thinks he looks like a sculpture but others think he looks uncanny.

Teddy loved being in the woods/forest cause he loved running around and getting all that energy out. Probably met a old man named Charles who taught him how to fish and scavenge or something. Nobody knew teddy was being fr when he talked about Charles because Charles was probably some urban legend. He was being real though.

(Anyway hope you don't mind me sending you these! if I wrote a fanfic I would include all this stuff but unfortunately I don't have the dedication or skill to do that)

aw ted babe noooo (little does he know a beautiful person without a tooth gap is like an angel without their wings so in truth he was saved).

i agree with all of these lmfao. i feel like luna makes lily earrings for her birthday every year like a tradition. i also heavily fw assertive victoire— i like to think teddy had always been the flirty, confident one in his other relationships and victoire had been shyer in her other relationships but the roles are just reversed when they actually get together. and james being a horror movie freak is soooo real to me, he laughs at all the western films and only genuinely gets kicks out of asian horror movies. victoire with her maternal grandpa is so cute man, its canon to me now. and i have ALWAYS said this about teddy but he is the definition of “i know a guy.” he could get you any job, get you out of any situation ever, “everybody’s got a cousin who can hook you up with something” type. and charles bro 💀💀 yeah you’re so right nobody believed teddy when he said he mastered muay thai until he whipped out martial moves, or when he learnt tagalog when rooming with this old lady in the phillipines until he started rapping a song in it 😭 the only person who would believe him immediately with no questions asked is andromeda. hes so freaky, now he could tell people he was the first one to set foot on mars and everyone will be obligated to believe him.

“not even draco too just astoria is enough to make that kid divine looking” this is the truest yeah 😭😭 ok ok you’re actually so right about this, scorpius would be attractive but unconventional-looking. i feel like his uncanny years is only in school though, no one saw the vision but albus and it paid off sooooo well in the end.

[moe-broey]

What do you guys think. Even though I have like a million other things swimming around in my head. I mean, maybe there's an order of operations I can take here too........

But should I finish my Book 3 replay?? Left off where Gustav dies for real, badly. And also very funny occurrence where it was ALL coming back to me, actually. Like remember how I said I forgot about the stick??? Yeah. Turns out, everything with Gustav there just was too little too late for me. And I remembered it all coming back to me. Like wait. I DO remember this. And I remember EXACTLY how I felt. Exactly how I feel Right Now. Which is. Man Fuck you. Fuck ooooooff. I'm over it. LMFAOOOOOO

OR. Honestly I have ALSO been in the mood to revisit Book 5 actually. Like I keep thinking back to Reginn, and I feel like I need to refresh my memory. Alfonse character study reasons. That moment where he's harsh w her has ALWAYS stuck in my mind, I'm Always thinking back to it, but. I remember jack shit, actually. Could be time for a refresher.

Should I be bravies and finish -- actually I don't think I'm emotionally prepared to. But I do miss Ratatoskr. I miss her so much. I'm also still scared about Henriette. I'm half debating if I should just ask you guys if she dies. Just to rip the bandaid off. I know of one character death, and honestly. I really didn't expect that one to make it out of the book alive, anyway. I feel like that chara unfortunately had really loud blaring death flags from the start.

At this point now that I think about it I do think I should just get Seidr's book over and done with. Like. I didn't want it to be over, I vaguely know that people weren't super satisfied with the ending. Which, actually feels like enough information for me to feel okay about just finishing it up now. Like... at this point I think I'm okay letting it go. And I know where to keep my expectations. I think I could finish it without too much incident. For a reference point: I left off around where Seidr is going on her quest to kill all the other versions of herself. I think it was Kvasir specifically, I left off at.

But man going back to the "maybe there's an order of operations here" bit. I am SO ANAL. About making the Most of my medication. This means I have a somewhat strict routine where once I'm ready to start my day, I'm drawing. No matter what, I'm drawing. And as you all know, I am CONSTANTLY. HOPPING BETWEEN PROJECTS. And rn I'm in a spot of Too Many At Once. I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO START... what to invest my time in to make the absolute Most of it......,. literally out here min maxxing.

And then in ALL of this. I wanna get to some stuff in my drafts.... but now I have an order I wanna do that for blog flow reasons too.......... but dif things take dif energy........ wuagh.

I'd make a jokey poll but my thoughts are too messy. Does anybody wanna be nicies to me and give me some thoughts. Please. 🧍

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I know your prompts are closed, but I have to ask your thoughts on just out of the ice Steve struggling to fall asleep, because he just can't shake the fear that if he does, the next time he opens his eyes another ten, twenty, seventy, a hundred, years have passed, and he's even more out of time. So he looks desperately for solutions, medication won't work, a new place makes him feel too unsafe, white noise does as well, he doesn't like not being able to hear. ASMR doesn't work, at least, not at first. He hates the soft talking, the squishing and crunching of slimes. The taps and pops are to sudden, reminding him of the sharp cracks of gunshots in an otherwise quiet night. But then he finds a video of someone sketching, and the quiet rasp of the pencil and charcoal over the paper puts him to sleep almost before he realizes what's happened. -🐍

First, I have to tell you that you said ASMR, and immediately I was like, hold on, hold on, hold on--didn't I write something about Steve and ASMR? Did I just imagine that?

Because, exactly! I've always had the thought in my head of Steve not enjoying ASMR because of his super hearing. It feels like rather than giving him tingles, I would be grating and sharp to his ears, at least, especially out of the ice when he's so vulnerable and raw.

So... I had to take a minute to look through my masterlists. What I was thinking of was this drabble about Steve being touch-starved. So, that's something that might be something you're interested in, but also two other drabbles:

Steve and Natasha and their bad dreams while on the run

Steve and Bucky and sleepless nights

Based on those three drabbles, though, you can probably already tell what my thoughts are on Steve and sleep. And it's pain. Just painful. I am so here for angst, but really, I just can't see much otherwise for him, fresh out of the ice.

The thought of Steve finding unedited, real-time videos of people drawing traditionally--graphite on paper--and using those lengthy videos to find relaxation and eventually sleep is so tender, though. So thoughtful. It would be the perfect lull for him.

Which makes me think of this ask, also. Specifically, the idea that, "[Steve] said once that he's pretty sure he's had his fill of sleep after 70 years of it, but that was a lie. He's tired. Has he always been this tired? He's tired, exhausted, all the way down to his bones."

**This got a little darker than I thought it would. Please tread carefully if you're sensitive to thoughts surrounding suicidal ideation and descriptions of the symptoms of depression!**

Steve's been gone for seventy years. Unconscious. Not exactly asleep, not exactly dead. Just. Gone. He's missed seventy fucking years of the world turning and turning and turning. Yet... it's the same, too. When he plunged into the biting cold water--his body stinging with the temperature, painful and chilling to the depths of his soul and also a sensation of nothing at all as his mind simply stopped working, too much sensory imput to the point that he was wiped out, wiped clean with nothing left--he was fighting. Then, when he was here again, no longer gone, surrounded by purely new individuals and new expectations and a new reputation, larger than life, he's still fighting. He isn't even told to fight. No. He's expected to fight. No one ever slows down enough to ask him if he wants to fight still.

Does Steve still want to fight?

Is... is it okay if he doesn't want to fight?

What is he fighting for anyway? He doesn't know anything about what life is anymore. Life in the country he represented once alongside life anywhere. He's so disconnected, so out of place. And... how can he connect? He doesn't know. He doesn't know if he can connect. He doesn't know if he wants to connect again. Connecting, restarting his life in an alien world where everyone already knows about his old life, sounds exhausting. Steve's so exhausted already. He doesn't know if he has the energy to connect. He doesn't know if he has the energy to keep living. He doesn't know.

He feels so slow all the time. He feels, once more, like he's half-starved and wrecked by the last dregs of a fever, a battle with another round with another illness, shaky, his brain fogged and nonfunctional. He wanders through the fog. He's cold. He's unsteady. He can't sleep.

He wants to sleep so badly, he's so tired. Exhausted. But. He can't sleep. Every time he lays down, his mind is suddenly clear and functioning--over-functioning. Overthinking. Taking a nosedive into a downward spiral. Consumed and torn apart by fear. If he closes his eyes now, when will he open them next? How long will it be? How long will it be until he can move and live and breathe again? (Is Steve breathing now? How does he know he's alive? How does he know he can move at all? Now that he's on his back, his limbs feel leaden. He's rooted to the bed, rotting into the cold sheets and firm mattress, his arms by his sides, his legs straight, formation for survival in the tight, coffin-like spaces of the barracks.) How long will it be until he wakes up with his throat already raw from the screams, drowning in nightmares? Nightmares about war. Nightmares about death. Nightmares about the nebulous, unreal passage of time. Nightmares that combine all of that and show him in a whirlwind all the faces of everyone he's ever loved--

All of them gone.

Steve wants to sleep. Steve wants to sleep so desperately, too tired to even cry, that he just wants to be gone. He doesn't think sleep can fix this. He just wants to be gone.

Please.

Why can't the earth open up and swallow him whole. Return him to the ice. Steve almost wishes they never found him. He wishes they had left him in the ice. If he hadn't come back, he would never have known he was gone.

He wants to be gone.

[painfulrant]

Ethan x M/C - Comfort/Nightmares

It was a usual day at the school with the group. Everyone throwing suspicion my way for absolutely no reason. The sun rising casted beautiful orange rays that filled my chest with hope for the better.

Maybe hope is something you have to make for yourself?

His words were strong and clear in my mind, calming my racing heart. I haven't been sleeping much lately... The things lurking in the dark terrorize my dreams and drag me down so far, I sometimes fear I'll never make it back to the land of the living. If Judy wasn't acting so weird, I would ask her for her Judy special services.

She's hiding something from me. She avoids me during the days now, only returning to my room once I've fallen asleep, sometimes not at all. She'll talk to me but not like before... She has dark purple bags under her eyes making me wonder if she's also having nightmares or if it's from her sneaking around so much. If it was a boy, surely, she would tell me. Maybe she just suspects me like everyone else does. Scarlett hasn't exactly let up with all her bs.

The classroom doors slid open and one set of pitter-pattering footsteps fell still. I don't have the energy to look back, so I just rested my head against the window and watched the deserted city below get drowned in beautiful rays of color from the sky and water. There were very few, if any animals left but I know of at least four animals that have made it this far.

"Why're you awake so early?" Judy's cheerful voice didn't sound so cheerful but rather nervous. Is she truly scared of me? I haven't done anything to anyone here. Honestly, I could ask the same of her, but my head was pounding, and my vision was matching the beat of my heart. I just shrugged, knowing she'll drop it. The new version of her will anyways... The old her would be persistent and stubborn. She'd pull it out through my teeth. But Judy hasn't been the same in a couple of weeks.

The sound of the door sliding open once again made me clench my jaw in frustration. I was hoping for a few more hours of silence before others woke up and I was to be out casted from the peaceful classroom. Let Judy keep her secrets... I've tried enough already, and she's said some pretty hurtful things. Mostly everyone has.

That though brought tears to my eyes, but I refused to let them drop, listening for who the new person was. Between the nightmares and the bullying, I had no energy for anyone anymore. Zion and Ethan both seemed have to realized just that too which was strange. Ethan, the man who speaks little but speaks wisely and Zion the sarcastic cocky man who gets mad when I cry.

"Y/n, what're you doing up so early? You have night shift tonight." That was Lawrence who sounded kind and gentle as always but also like a mother scolded her child. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, biting my tongue to stop my attitude dripping out.

"Can't sleep." It was quiet for a second before Lawrence voice sounded.

"Oh. Well -" He was cut off by Judy, drawing my attention. She never does that... When I opened my eyes and turned to look at her, she had blood pouring from her eyes, nose, and mouth as well as her right arm missing. I gasped, standing up and stepping closer to the window and farther away from her. She just smiled, her teeth glistening red with blood that continued to drool from her mouth.

This is a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare. Tears were once again prickling my eyes, but it was clear enough to see Lawrence standing in the far corner, hidden by the shadows with glowing red eyes. He looked to be holding something in his hand and at a closer look, it was Judy's arm.

"No. No! This isn't real. You guys aren't real, I-" I gasped, pushing myself up against the window.

The door slid open once again and this time Ethan and Zion stepped through. Zion had blue, red, and purple bites littering his body while Ethan had foggy eyes and pale blue skin with his veins showing.

"Y/n... Step down from the window." Judy's sinister voice echoed around the room while the sky outside turned a deep scarlet shade of red.

I just stared at all of them, tears now freely streaming down my face.

"It's time to wake up." A voice behind me whispered, arms wrapping around my body. These arms were cold, and I couldn't help screaming when they drug me out the window.

I jerked forward, screaming with tears flowing like a stream off a mountain. Warm hands were gently grabbing my own and when I looked up, I saw a normal Eugene staring worriedly from the back of the classroom, Ethan in front of me with worried eyes but a blank face, and Zion behind Ethan with curious expression. Judy and Lawerence were nowhere to be found.

When I turned back to check if the sky was still red, I found the normal orange rays of the sunrise. The window where I stood, was open, my body literally an inch from dropping to my death. I gasped and stepped forward toward Ethan who quickly wrapped his arms around me. I almost died... My dream almost killed me. When did I even fall asleep.

I laid my head against Ethan's shoulder while he set his head on top of mine, his touch reassuring me that I wasn't dreaming, and he wasn't dead. None of them were. The shock stopped the tears from flowing, my heart rapidly beating.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, the pulsing vision and headache returning 10x worse than it had been before I fell asleep. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. I could fell his heart beating just as hard and fast as mine.

"We heard you scream while we were patrolling." Eugene spoke up, walking forward to close and lock the window behind us.

"You sounded like a zombie was tearing into you." There was no sarcasm or a hint of amusement in Zions voice. I must have really scared them.

"Come on." Ethan muttered, gently leading me from the classroom, the shock warrying off. My body trembled but there were still no tears. I'm too tired to cry.

When Ethan led me to his room, I looked to him with confusion.

"Sleep. You need it." He moved his blanket back, getting a spot ready for me. I felt bad and I think he knew because he looked up and shook his head.

"It's not your fault." With those final words, I walked forward to lay down. As soon as I did, he started to stand. I don't want him to leave... I need him here.

Quickly grabbing his hoodie sleeve, I looked up with scared eyes.

"Please don't leave me." I whispered, voice trembling with exhaustion but also fear. His eyes searched mine before he nodded and sat beside me. He let me lay my head against his shoulder and soon, everything grew dark. His heartbeat soothed my own heart and for once in a couple of weeks, I slept peacefully knowing he was beside me and with me to protect me.

"I promise to always protect you. I'm not leaving you."

[16ruedelaverrerie]

Your instincts are animalistic and your deductive reasoning skills are razor-sharp! And you were completely correct! Although, I do have to confess, there are more than enough typos and grammar mistakes to go around in things I've written... fics, sure, but also just... comments and tumblr posts and whatnot. My wake is LITTERED with errors. With fics I can go in surreptitiously and tend to them hoping that no one has noticed, but with alarming regularity I will edit a comment reply being like "Sorry to drop this notification in your inbox... I just spotted a typo and I had to fix it..." so you know, you were more lenient than you needed to be in your assessment of my punctiliousness, but you were STILL COMPLETELY CORRECT.

That having been said, you're probably somewhat off the mark with regard to my vibes as person! I mean, I'm not an intentionally bad person, you know, I don't go around being a provocateur, but mostly it's just that people tend to reserve a lot of the energy it takes to be amiable for the real-life relationships they have. Me, I treat all the people in my life like dirt and then I come on the Internet and kiss all the babies in town. (That's a joke! I don't treat the people in my life like dirt! But certainly I enjoy explaining myself or pontificating at length much much less in real life, and maybe something of that willingness to keep talking can read as amiability online. )

As a person who is DEFINITELY IN MY WALLS, could you earn your rent and hang out with my cat while I am away?? Saba keeps throwing up from boredom / loneliness / a desire to protest my absences, and I am as concerned about his GI tract as I am tired of blotting the rug.....................

(💓You are very sweet and this message was a big serotonin boost, thank you)

No! I didn't! That dating sim mockup remains, as it began, a one-off joke about grabbing Gavin by the throat more than anything else kjfld;hgkld If anyone passing by right now wants to hit up @kenoa-ajisai-no-niwa about putting something together, that would be awesome!

I am the way that I am, so I would only really feel comfortable writing for the game, rather than drawing-- but division of labor aside, I'm just generally anxious about collaborative ventures like this occurring at this stage of the fandom life cycle. I've been part of a few late-fandom projects of this nature, and they've all sort of... dissolved into tears. There's no established graceful way for someone to lose interest in a fandom and step away from their collaborative commitments, you know? The project falls apart without them, but it's also difficult to ask someone to keep putting their time and labor into something that no longer interests them, and won't earn them college credits or a paycheck.

When a fandom is young, there's enough energy in the air to push a project to the finish line, right? Several years into a fandom, I can't help but feel that these projects tend to sink into a kind of "Well... it's a lot of work... and who are we even making it for, anyway... is it worth doing all of this just so that we can get like three comments" is-there-anyone-out-there morass. That's not a rule, of course, just a regrettable pattern that I've personally experienced-- but it's what comes to mind for me, as I ruminate on the possibility of this hypothetical dating sim.

...And yet, I'd still probably write for such a hypothetical dating sim, if it were to hypothetically exist

[the12thnightproject]

Happy WIP Wednesday!

Are there any idea blurbs or WIPs you'd like to share? >:3

Happy WIP Wednesday indeed! Thank you for asking... I'm always happy to share some longfic WIP. How about a little bit from a hurt/comfort chapter....

How much time had passed since that morning? It was impossible to tell. Sho had brought me some soup and insisted I take it, saying that I needed to eat. I likely would have refused anyway, but her statement was backed up by Mitsuhide’s implacable stare.

Bad decision. After I sat up to eat a few spoons of it, the liquid boiled in my stomach. "Oh hell. I'm going to-"

With a shriek she rushed for a bucket, and thrust it in front of me while Mitsuhide kept my hair out of the way and gently rubbed my back. The soup left me faster than it entered. Ugh, this was worse than any flu I’d ever had. At least with the flu, there was the knowledge that eventually, it would run its course.

When the wave finally subsided, I felt spent and exhausted. Mitsuhide held me against him while he helped me take a couple sips of cold tea, and then I lay back down, completely out of energy, and yet not able this time to go back to sleep. If I kept myself very very still, maybe everything would stop hurting.

"Thank you." I heard Sho's soft footsteps padding away, leaving me alone with Mitsuhide. "How long has it been?" Time had been blurred, I felt like I'd been both thrown into the past and at the same time futures that didn't exist.

"Since you picked a fight with a runaway cart? Three days. Some of your bruises all already fading." His fingers lightly skimmed across my cheek. "I imagine your head will feel better soon as well."

I hoped so. Concussion… that’s probably what I had, but of course there was no word for that here.

"Do you think a strong scent will make you feel sick?" Mitsuhide's voice came from further away and I heard a bit of a clanking. It sounded like a ceramic jar, maybe, but I wasn’t willing to test opening my eyes again.

"Maybe." There had been a bit of a fishy smell to the soup. But the scent of the herbal tea hadn’t been triggering.

I heard a rustle, then the side of the bed dipped. Very briefly, the scent of something minty wafted past. "What about this scent?"

"So far it seems tolerable," The scent came closer, stronger.

"And now?" I felt his breath across my ear.

"Still fine. As long as I don't move or open my eyes. Why?" The question was automatic, although I had a suspicion of what he had in mind.

"This oil may help with the pain, but if I put it on you, I don't want it to make you ill again." The scent was closer still, right under my nose, fresh and sharp, and at that moment I also realized he no longer had that scent of incense clinging to him. He must have bathed and laundered his clothing. "May I?"

"Yes." If it would stop the men with pickaxes from chipping away from my skull, it would be lovely.

Very gently, almost invisibly, one finger traced small circles at my temple, drawing a line from there to a spot behind my ear. The mint oil left a trail of coolness, soothing the angry nerve endings. The pain didn’t go away, but it subsided enough to help me relax. "That's nice."

He lightly applied more oil to the side of my neck, the top of my shoulders, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Interesting. That response makes me curious to see what would happen if we employed this oil in other situations." That teasing note was finally back in his voice. He wouldn’t tease me if he thought I was still in any serious danger, which was a relief. I mean it wasn't like I thought I was going to die either. If this head injury was going to kill me it would have done so already, right?

It was only belatedly that I realized what exactly he was teasing me about, "Great. Let me know how it turns out." Not my usual, but hey give me credit for any snark at all when I have a concussion.

"You would know long before that," At least that’s possibly what he said. I was already halfway into sleep again.

[spacejammie-eimmajecaps]

Anon's situation is very relatable. I have a fic around that length that I have been working on for more than 2 years, I didn't think it would take so long, I still have a lot left to write, I have chronic illness that drain my energy and make me write slow, and I have been burned out to the point of wanting to quit.

When at that point, a break needs to happen and it needs to last long enough to actually be restful and restorative.

Trust me, a few days isn't going to cut it, probably not even just a few weeks either if this is the first real break you've had since you started writing your fic.

I had to take 4 or 5 months off once when I was in a "this isn't fun anymore and I want to quit" headspace and I felt SO MUCH BETTER after that break, was so ready to write again without it feeling like a burden. I have always, always, ALWAYS been happy about taking a break once I finally do it, and I always feel like I write better if I let myself have time to rest.

Another thing worth mentioning is that it would be best to build some habits that prevent burnout from reoccurring.

For me that means regularly taking breaks even if it doesn't feel necessary and making sure I spend plenty of time doing other things I enjoy.

Writing shouldn't be the only thing we do with our free time.

And if something in your mind tells you you'll finish faster if you spend all your free time writing, ignore that, it's not true. You won't finish faster because you'll hit burnout again and again, you'll have less fun, and you might even be disappointed with how your story turns out.

I always take a week or two off after finishing a chapter, and I try to limit how much time I spend writing in a day and how many days in a row I write. This has drastically reduced how often I experience creative burnout.

Oh, also, try not to think about how much more time it will take to finish. If you're too focused on reaching the end, you won't be able to enjoy the process. I know that for me, when I stopped giving myself deadlines to post by and just allowed myself to leisurely explore each chapter, I started having way more fun.

It does take me a while to post chapters (usually a month or two in between), but it's much better for my physical and mental health to go at that pace. And whenever I apologize to my readers for taking so long, they always assure me they are fine with waiting and want me to put my health first.

Anyway, give yourself the gift of taking a break!

Go read books and other people's fics, go watch some shows, go listen to music, go do some puzzles, go draw, go paint, go spend time outside, go for walks, go make little arts and crafts projects like you're a kid again, go find other things that are fun and relaxing.

Don't think about writing for now. Tuck your story away in the back of your mind and trust that you can get it out again when you're ready.

The story isn't going anywhere, and your readers will wait. They would probably urge you to take a break if they knew how you're feeling.

I'm over 350k words into writing a very long fic that's about halfway done, and lately, I feel like quitting. I've considered posting the outline as a final chapter to give people closure and then just walking away from it.

But I also really want to be able to actually finish it because the story means a lot to me. Whenever I think about calling it quits, I can't do it.

I feel trapped between not wanting to work on it anymore and wanting to finish this story that I've already poured so much time and love into. I want to finish it as much as I want to quit. But the idea of going on is almost agonizing.

Part of why I've been wanting to quit is because my health went downhill about 8 months into working on it, and it has only got worse since then, and that makes chapters take a long time to finish. I'm very slow to update and it makes me feel bad for the readers who are waiting for more. It's not like that many people are waiting, there isn't too much pressure in that sense. It's a rarepair and the fandom isn't as active as it used to be. But there are some people who are excited to know what happens next, and I feel like I'm letting them down by taking so long. I'd probably let them down even more if I didn't write the rest of it, though.

Another reason I've been wanting to quit is that I've been working on this fic for a few years already and it's going to take a few more years to finish, and that is overwhelming. I'm exhausted from such a long commitment to something creative. I've never spent longer than 6 months on a fic before and didn't think this one was going to take so long.

The final reason is that my writing style has changed in small ways over the course of working on the fic and I feel like older chapters are not as good as the newer chapters and I'm sort of losing confidence in myself. I don't enjoy reading my old fics because all I see are the things I'd change, and I feel like that's starting to happen with this fic.

This is supposed to be fun and I'm not having fun right now.

I don't know what to do.

Do you have any advice?

*hugs* the first thing I want you to do, anon, is take a deep breath. hold it. let it out.

It's going to be okay. ❤️

You've got a lot of different emotions going on right now and a lot of different reasons for feeling them. You need to stop trying to push them away and "get on with things" because that's just like shoving your mess into the closet. Eventually that door isn't going to shut anymore.

You also need to take care of yourself before you worry about your readers. They'll still be there later. New ones might come by in the meantime. If you're putting your readers' presumed wants and needs ahead of your own, you'll eventually start to feel resentful towards them for "forcing" you to do something you don't want to (or just can't) do right now.

First and foremost, I think you need a break. You're exhausted and you're pressuring yourself to do more than you're capable of. The way you describe things, it sounds like you're pretty burnt out and in need of some recovery time. Berating yourself and forcing yourself and pushing yourself so hard is only going to make it all worse.

You know that old Snickers commercial where the person turns into an ogre or something and their friend gives them a chocolate bar? The tag line is something like "You're not you when you're hungry." Well, you're also not you when you're exhausted. Your brain is currently a toddler in need of a nap, and if it doesn't get that nap then it's just going to have a tantrum and ruin your whole day.

Take a moment and think of this story that you're writing. Why do you want to finish it? Is it because the readers are excited for it? Is it because you've put a lot of work into it already? Is it because you've already spent a lot of time on it?

All of those things might be true, but you said the most important part yourself, right up front, "the story means a lot to me. Whenever I think about calling it quits, I can't do it."

It's not about the readers, and it's not about the effort, and it's not about the time. It's about the story. That's the important thing. And if that's the important thing, then you can write it at your own pace. You can enjoy the writing process of it. You can spend your time imagining scenes that might or might not make it into the final version.

Writing fic is a hobby, and like you said it's meant to be fun. Take it off of your list of responsibilities and put it onto your list of daydreams instead. The only person you're accountable to with this story is yourself. The next time you catch yourself thinking, "I have to-" or "I should-" when you're thinking about this story, stop and recognize that thought. Where is it coming from? Why are you having it? Is it actually true or do you just feel like it is?

Then take a deep breath. Hold it. Let it out. This story is for you first. Take your time with it.

[eggmixercortex]

15 for jackass

YESSS JACKASS you 🫵 must have read my mind because shes been bouncin around in there for weeks

15. What places hold significant meaning or memories for your OC? Do they have a positive or negative association with those places?

ok actually this is like the funniest possible question for her actually. she doesn't remember shit or fuck <3 not a single thing upstairs god bless

on a serious note though, one of the few place-memories jackass didn't lose (and one she gets more of as time goes on) is the campus of the university she attended - that was where she spent several years preceding the fuse, and where the formed the one bond that survived the memory wipe (although, well. well..) so she has a little bit of an aversion/obsession deal with it initially. she can, theoretically, return there - but would it actually do anything good? her most vivid memory is of someone she seemed to have cared a great deal about being horrified and disgusted by her status as a colony - a person whose name she can't even recall. who's to say that that person isnt still there - or that some other party might catch her out in some other way? after she meets Texie, of course, the obsession wins out and she spends a pretty significant amount of energy to try and trigger as many memories as possible* while still keeping up with the new day-to-day she and shiloh have. on top of that, its also yk. a uni that she graduated from. memory or no thats gonna make you feel Some way. she doesnt even get to keep her diploma**!! mothefucker!!

youre a lucky motherfucker because YOU get a bonus doodle whether you want it or not!! must admit i have been drawing her in class when its not killing me

*texie herself actually brings jackass some of her old belongings at least once, and ive spent a fair amount of time on specifically jackass' memory dreams. i like working with her uni time bc it shows who she was before she had to worry about the type of shit shiloh gets into, or handling weapons at all etc. (while she IS the one who went hogwild over guns training during grunt days, had she not been fused its pretty likely she would have just spent the rest of her life scrounging through the remains of the GW academic industry)

**given the state of GW schools in jackass' day, she probably got something closer to a certificate, and its pretty unlikely her diploma would actually do much for her anyway. the only people inside the mountains worried about higher ed are either too rich or too strung out to be of any use to anybody, lets be real. most people attending the universities are either attending the various vocational courses, rich enough to take classes recreationally, or trying to enter the teaching force. jackass herself took her course on her host's (presumed) life savings and was planning on ditching and finding a new one once graduated, so she's got an excuse for a useless major (sorry queen)

thank you :]

[h-pelessly]

August 19th, 2024

Today, I've come to the realization that I cannot let Tim go. Like yeah, he pisses me the fuck off and I absolutely hate that man at times, but there is no way I could let him go. I don't like the way he justifies everything, but it's true. He's contributed positively to my life and has seen the worst of me (which is insane btw. I might need to work on myself but that's just that.) But on the other hand, he wouldn't be where he is today if not for me AND I have seen his dick flaccid.

I got mad at Tim for being on his phone because he has been obsessed with playing NBA 2K or whatever. Like I get t's a stimulation whatever but this man is so obsessed to the point where he times when he regains energy just to play. Like I'm obsessed with the Sims, but there's no way I am on his level where I sit and wait to be able to do things. I have life and shit to do. ANYWAY, he does that and whatever we're doing at the moment gets tossed to the side because of the stupid game which I am sick and tired of. I hate this man SM.

So adding onto that, I got really mad at him and so when my big, Dustin, took me out on Monday, I didn't tell Tim. It was petty, yes, but like if I was already ignoring him, why would I go out of my way to contact him to tell him that? PLUS, he also was going out with his coworkers so like??? Our times wouldn't even intersect. Well, when he found out, he threw a bitch fit because I was "lying." I wasn't bc I cut off contact with him??? Like it would make no sense for me to tell him when it doesn't concern him. And I wasn't lying because I wasn't talking to him. Whatever-- I was super mad at him and then we made up.

TWO DAYS later, he did the same shit. I told him to get off his phone which he said he couldn't because it was important (newsflash: it wasn't!!) I instantly became mad because I fucking told him already. I was having a bad day and he's just adding on to it. He said he apologized, but we're just dancing around in circles. He'll do that again as he previously did two days ago. He let me go home mad!!!! I was okay with it, but then the next day, he left me alone AGAIN to go hang out with his boys.

FUCK THIS MAN FR like what the fuck is actually wrong with him. This man does not love nor care about me.

I finally felt better on Sunday enough to talk and this man had the audacity to leave AGAIN for a family party (that he was invited to last minute. Talk about being unwanted fr but who's counting). Like????????/ Honestly I don't care, but like this man REALLY does not love me. Writing this is pissing me off again. Like why can't I let this man go. He deserves the worst FR.

Books I Read;

Just a Little Love by Kerry Kilpatrick (5.5/10) When I got this book (for free through a SYK day, yay) I did NOT know what I was walking into. I thought it would be a LGBTQ+ and assumed from the BDSM warning, it would be something like a kinky dark romance. BOY WAS I WRONG. This explored the daddy/little kink, which I didn't know was a thing. So I did learn something in a book-- against my will, but I did learn about this. I don't want to be a kink shamer, but I wanted to DNF so badly. Like I don't mind having a caretaker and not worrying about anything because daddy is responsible, but the idea that the little is to channel their inner child is insane. What do you mean they are to wear diapers and color/draw and stuff? Yeah, um no thanks.

Never Lie by Freida McFadden (7.8/10) I love Freida McFadden so much. This book was a little boring and slow paced for me in the beginning, but she never disappoints. What do you mean I never saw it coming? I thought I could smell bullshit, but apparently not. Freida, the woman that you are, thank you. I swear, I thought I knew that the husband had to be a little sus, but he wasn't even the main part of the story. I just know they, as a couple, will not last in the grand scheme of things BUT THATS A DIFF STORY.

Love Unwritten by Lauren Asher (8/10) This was such a cute story of a grumpy single dad x nanny, but it was sooo slow paced and long omg. I definitely was put into a terrible reading slump after, but I had fun reading it. Rafael deserves sm love and he tries giving it to his son but ya know how it goes when he can't. Nico is having a hard time connecting to his dad yet connects so easily with his nanny that his dad is jealous. But as time goes on, his dad forms a connection with the nanny and it is them who hides their relationship from the son. Idk it was so cute yet so long winded.

Redeemed by Lauren Asher (8/10) This is by far my favorite out of the dirty air series. It doesn't have much to do with F1 at all as the MMC is a retired F1 driver, but it was so cute. The love story had to do so much with acceptance and self-esteem. Santiago is retired because of a crash which led him to get a prosthetic leg. He goes about unhappy with his life choices and "what ifs" until Chloe comes along. She helps him realize his potential and pushes him back into the scene and to not hide from the world in embarrassment. Idk, it just meant a lot to me.

A Hockey Boyfriend by Lauren Blakely (8/10) This was an ARC read, and it's only the second book I've read of the authors. The other one I read was a spicy novella so I didn't know what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised. I usually don't like one night stand books, but this one... chef's kiss. So much tension. And then it goes to brother's teammate. I thought it was good-- nothing special, but the beginning was super cute in my opinion.

The Right Move by Liz Tomforde (8.5/10) Wow, I absolutely loved this one. I HATED the first one so I was hesitant to start this one, but thankfully I did bc it was amazing. Ryan Shay, the man that you are... This is a forced proximity fake dating kind of book and I giggled. It wasn't that spicy at all-- like it was actually very wholesome. Ryan Shay is a grump with his life in order. Indigo is a flying (mess) full of life that blew into his life by accident. They have to fake a relationship, but Ryan finds out that he can do all the tough things by Indie's side and idk it was so cute and sweet.

Tempting the Player by Rebecca Jenshak (7/10) I was highkey disappointed by this one. I loved all of the books in The Campus Wallflowers so I expected to fall in love with this one too, but no. I couldn't connect to the FMC at all like she merely existed. She had a stalker okay and has a mystery bodyguard who she is attracted to. But this man, whew. I was able to connect with him and feel for him. He had a long life planned for him but an injury caused him to look elsewhere which is how he becomes her bodyguard. He has to reconnect with his brothers and town he left behind. I thought this book was meh.

Offtrack by Esha Patel (6/10) Yeah.... no idea how I got through this. I was so disappointed by it. The blurb seemed very interesting and I even followed up on it bc I was excited. Just to find out it was so boring. It was advertised as a romance book which there was some aspect of romance, but it truly wasn't the focus which disappointed me. The focus was her as a female in F1 which I did find interesting, but there were just words like we didn't get to see how poorly Diana, the FMC, was treated in the motorsports world. I couldn't care less about her or the MMC.

Happily Never After (8/10) There were good parts about this book, but maybe I didn't fully enjoy it because I read it as an audiobook. I am such a big fan of Lynn Painter's meet cutes. They met at a wedding!! And then they become partners in crime. I really didn't enjoy the biggest issue because Max, the MMC, was childish and the way he talked to the FMC was very annoying. Like can you speak your feelings??? And he sounded like "whatever I say goes" like calm the fuck down.

Force Play by Lo Everett (7.8/10) I did like this ARC, but I felt like I expected more spice and tension. Dom and Indie was a highly anticipated story when knowing their past from the last book. But we were just given snippets of the night and it kind of goes from hate to love. I didn't get enough banter from them hating each other-- well from Indie at least.

[dolldoll5987]

Graduating high school is not worth celebration, it's worth the exact opposite.

As a senior in high school I get bombarded with questions like what I'm going to do after I graduate, like go to college or get a job. I've been suicidal since I was 11, all I want to do is die, which is what I've been trying to do for the last 7 years. I suppose my last fleeting hope was that after school was done I could finally just relax. Now I'm kinda hit with the pressure to do something else... when I don't want to. I mean, sure, being a productive and contributing member of society is all fine and brilliant when you actually have the will to. For the last 7 years all I've had the motivation to do is try to figure out how and get the courage to kill myself. I don't have the energy to go to school, but do because I have this crippling fear that if I miss just one day I'll fail and have to repeat this year of torture.

I suppose what I'm getting at is if all there is in life is to either get a job or go to school to be able to get a job you want (...depending what it is, I suppose), still labour in a way, all for money just to pay to live — what's the point if you don't want to live? Like, it's all work and payments for something I didn't ask for, and didn't want. Why would I put so much energy into that?

Also, I'd like to make a point to say that when I say there's nothing else in life besides that is hyperbolic in its own right. There are friends, family, hobbies/aspirations, whatever. None of these make me happy. I have few friends and no energy to socialise anyway, my family sucks, and I have no aspirations or hobbies. I mean okay I like reading, writing, drawing, and gaming and have a niche interests in things like criminology, forensics, medicine, science, and other stuff, but not enough to make it into a living. Well, maybe, but I definitely don't have the energy to. I'd need more school, and school is the definition of Hell for me. In a lot of ways it made my depression and eating disorder worst, although I do not blame them entirely for these events. I take blame where I need to. My fault for isolating myself (due to lack of energy to socialise, which isn't my fault, but I still made the choice to do what I did), my fault for resorting to an eating disorder as a desperate distraction and to feel good about myself for once. It's my fault, I get it.

Teachers and other staff ask me if I'm excited to graduate and I'm like. Well. I say yes but it's mixed feelings. It's odd, I hate school and want to get out, but when I do that I have nothing else. I don't have the smarts or motivation for college, and I don't see the point in getting a job to labour away and pay to live when I don't even want to be here anyway. I don't hate learning, I just don't like how schools teach. Maybe I'm pedantic about it, but there have been some teachers that give us easy work loads and easy classwork in itself and still managed to leave me feeling like my time was being used well there because 1) I had fun for once, and 2) I actually remembered what I learnt. I wish more people teach like they do. Now I just feel like a big ball of lost potential because I've had so many people tell me I'm smart and even at genius levels yet I never use it in a good way I always do it to detriment myself.

I don't know. Not everything has a good ending, especially not this. I plan on offing myself after I graduate, which is soon. I won't do it immediately after I graduate, probably.

I just. Ugh. I want to cry. I should be happy about graduating, but I can't be. All I can think about is how everyone else has their lives figured out - going to college, getting a job, whatever, while I'll be by myself with no friends, no life, no potential, and bored out of my mind but with no energy to start something. Even then, nothing interests me socially. I hate social interaction to the point of isolating myself entirely just to avoid it, which is a bad thing to do probably, but socialising causes me pain. I feel so different from everyone else and that I'm too weird and people are only ever nice out of pity or deception.

It seems that when I'm very bored, I get the most suicidal. With nothing to distract me I realise how dull and shallow my life is compared to everyone else's. Everyone else has friends, everyone else has at least some happiness, yet here I am with a chronic 😐 expression to the point people constantly ask what's wrong/if I'm okay when it's only my resting face. It's annoying having to always answer. Like... no, I'm not okay, but for the sake of this conversation, yes. I wish I could just disappear forever.

I don't want advice, I don't want help, I don't even want to make it better. I've been on meds and in therapy from ages 7-15, and it didn't help me at all, even made it worse sometimes. My life was doomed from the beginning, and since late 2019 it's gotten so, so much worse. Please, I just want it to end. When will the malnutrition that I've been experiencing for half a year finally just kill me? When will this all end? I want it to end. I want to die. Please.

[caspalooza]

2022 Art Summary & Reflection!

A proper blog post, this one! ;D I'll be talking your ear off about my art under the "keep reading" break, if you feel so inclined. Otherwise, please appreciate my 2022 art overview (ooooh. aaaah.)

So! 2022. Oh, 2022. Yeah, this year SUCKED! BIG TIME! Or at least, it sucked in terms of my, ahem, artistic journey (sparkle emoji). Graduating high school and stuff was cool. Anyways, I feel I should be unhappy about my art progress (or lack thereof), and I suppose to a certain extent I am, but at the same time I have a hard time blaming myself for this one. I had so, SO little energy this year, and almost any time I did have energy, I was weighed down by mental blocks, art blocks, creative blocks, you name it. Getting anything finished was very mentally draining, even more so because I wasn't getting any practice, meaning my art abilities weren't quite up to snuff, which discouraged me even more! In the past, whenever I've become discontented with my art, I've liked to do what I call BRUTE FORCING improvement!!! but I just didn't have the energy to do that at ALL this year. My main and possibly only consistent motivator for drawing was my oc, Jesper (this really was the year of Jesper for me, holy jeez!).

But right now, I'm thinking AHEAD! To the FUTURE, BABY! Because I REALLY want to make some progress by the end of 2023. Even though my rendering got a lot better in 2022, I improved pretty much NOT-AT-ALL when it came to the fundamentals. That bothers the HELL out of me and I want that to change next year. I can't describe how it is to SUFFER when I want to render something because it's fun, only to spend hours rendering GARBAGE and looking back at it 5 minutes later and realizing, "Hey wait a minute! That's GARBAGE!"

Lucky me, I'm in a pretty good state of mind about my art right now, and I feel myself fixating on it again (which is pretty good timing since I'm on winter break now). So here are my main improvement goals for 2023:

DRAW MORE and FINISH MORE ART, even if it's SHIT! Which is finally a realistic goal for me since I hate so much of my art that I'm highkey just desensitized to it at this point.

Pay WAY more attention to composition and use of negative space! And not just in color, which for some reason was what I thought negative space exclusively referred to until an embarrassingly short amount of time ago!

Similarly, pay much more attention to pose readability! These poses should be CRYSTAL!

Keep pushing expressions, not just in sketches but FINISHED ART!

And finally, I want to stop worrying so much about making finished art. I want to draw whatever the fuck I want even if that amounts to drawing a guy standing in the void 20 times in a row. If that's what I have energy for, that's what I have energy for! At least it's SOMETHING!

And of course I'd like to improve somewhat with proportions and anatomy and shading and such, but I'm not feeling the urge to focus too strongly on that stuff right now.

My relationship with my art is and has always been that I just want to get it to a point where I don't hate looking at it, because really the only reason I draw is because I either want to vent my love for something and/or because I like looking at my ocs. That's sorta why after improving so much in my first few years of learning to draw humans, I slowed down a ton. It wasn't out of laziness, I was just content, and why would I want to spend all my time and energy practicing when It was already good enough and I could just draw my ocs NOW! I have no professional aspirations for my art. My art's for me first, and I hope it stays that way.

That said, I'm hoping for a lot of changes in general in 2023, some of which aren't strictly related to the visual arts, necessarily! All my ocs and their lore are to be revamped (and some are in the process of it already) to recapture their original vibe which I have missed oh-so-much. I don't want to rush myself with that process, but once the ocs are all set and the basic lore is all set I would love to try making some short comics about them. I don't know if that'll happen this coming year, but it's something i'd like to work towards. I had actually already started working on a comic and had the first few pages thumbnailed before I realized I really, really didn't like the way some of my ocs were characterized. Like, I'm not suggesting they were PROBLEMATIC or something, they just didn't feel right. Like they weren't quite themselves anymore, and I had lost their essence. Also, it was probably a bit too ambitious for a first comic project, anyways. All's that to say, I've an interesting path in front of me! I hope to make some cool stuff this coming year, a healthy mix of epithet erased fan art and original content! And who KNOWS what other fandoms will destroy my life along the way!

[pamplemousseparadox]

9 for the kyalin microfic!

(prompt: discussing the possibility of MAYBE getting married one day) (omg the FLUFF ty)

Lin leaned her head against the door of their apartment, trying to find the energy to slide the key into the platinum lock. Before she could, and much to her surprise, the door swung open, and in an instant she was sliding back into a defensive stance before she realized who was standing on the other side. "Kya." She sighed, pressing fingertips to temples. "You scared me. I thought you were working late at the clinic."

"Would you believe me if I said that I managed to get through my paperwork earlier than I anticipated?" Kya asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Not really."

"Good instincts Chief, because I didn't. I just had a feeling you'd need me here tonight."

"And why is that?"

Kya guided her into the apartment, closing the door behind them. "I heard on the radio that there was some kind of bust up on the east side."

"There was."

"Are you alright?"

"Stop staring, I'm fine," Lin replied, waving her away. "A few scrapes and bruises, nothing serious. I'm just tired."

"Good thing I got takeout, then." Kya nodded towards the counter, where a selection of white boxes were stacked in a neat pile. "I didn't know what you'd want, so I got a little of everything."

Lin bent her armor off, sending it to the closet with a soft clatter. A soft breeze fluttered at the sheer green curtains, and she gave a satisfied shiver as it crested across her skin, drawing goosebumps. "You're wonderful," she said, and meant it. "You should stay tonight, I know you have an early shift."

"I was meaning to talk to you about that, actually."

"Oh?" Something about Kya's stiff, nervous movements sent a barbed spike to twist in Lin's stomach. She'd heard similar words, once. It hadn't ended well.

"Rumor has it, the clinic is going to ask me to head a new program."

"That's good, right?"

Kya nodded, dishing food onto jade earthenware plates, rounded at the edges. "Yes. At least, it's what I'd like."

"So what's the problem?"

"It would mean more frequent erratic shifts, at least for a while."

Lin took a plate from her, sitting at the table. "It feels like you're either going to break up with me or tell me that you're leaving again." She sat, trying to ignore the fact that her breath was still catching in her throat.

"What? No." Kya sat across from her, chopsticks poised above the plate. "I was going to ask if you'd be okay with me staying over more."

"Oh."

"I know you like your space to yourself, and it would only be for a little while until I find a place of my own in the city, it's just that the ferry schedule doesn't--"

"Move in," Lin said casually, popping a fat dumpling in her mouth.

"What?"

Lin shrugged. "Move in. You're here enough anyway, it doesn't make sense for you to be paying rent on another place."

"The rent isn't exactly my main concern here, Lin."

"Then what is?"

"I don't want to..." Kya trailed off, interrupting her thought with a bite of food. "I don't want to ruin this. Whatever it is."

"I thought it was pretty clear what this is."

"And what is that, exactly?"

Lin set down her utensils, considering just how much to tell her, how much was too much, too soon. It had barely been six months. "Girlfriend feels a little juvenile, I thought," she said carefully.

"Okay. Then what?"

"Partner?" Lin asked, scrunching up her face.

Kya laughed, and the sound of it was like music against the distant sounds of the city streets outside. "We can call it whatever you want, I just don't want to, you know, encroach on your space."

"Encroach away. I like having you here."

"You might change your mind, once--"

Lin picked up her chopsticks again, pulling at some noodles. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"I'm messy."

"I'm aware."

"You don't like it when I smoke lilyweed," Kya countered.

"I'll get over it."

"So you really want me to move in?"

Lin nodded. "Yes."

"That's such a relief, I was already dreading having to look for a place when work is already so busy. Chief Beifong, I might marry you, just for that." Kya reddened, looking down at her plate. "Sorry, I mean--I was just joking around. Don't take that so seriously."

Lin raised an eyebrow before turning back to her food. "It wouldn't be so bad, I don't think."

It was quiet for a moment, the only sounds the streets, slick with rain, the crest of air at the window, and the soft scrape of chopsticks against plates.

"I didn't know you wanted that," Kya said finally.

"Hmm." Lin looked up at her, searching her face, expecting fear or panic but finding neither. She nodded. "In time, maybe. If it's right." She cast a glance at her desk, knowing that the nearly finished betrothal necklace lay inside the locked drawer.

She'd bought the materials after their second date.

Request Kyalin fics from this post if you like!

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

Summary: Claire and Jamie begin to settle in with each other, and Claire continues to experience human oddities.

Read on AO3

Read chp 19 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 19: Merry of Soul

***

If Jamie thought Claire had been touchy before, nothing compared to the amount of contact they had now that they were together. Her hands— or lips— were all over him at the most unexpected moments (and the expected moments as well, to be fair). Not that Jamie was complaining. Though every bit of contact still brought a blush to his cheeks and made his heart race so fast it could have torn out of his chest, he never wanted her to stop. 

It had been two days since the fateful trip to Craigh na Dun and the following declarations of love. Two days since she’d decided to stay with him— bloody fool that he was. Two days of bliss with the love of his life. 

He’d left her that morning still asleep in their (their!) room. Her limbs had been strewn all over the place, making her look like a starfish sprawled on the bed. After disentangling himself from underneath her wee but aggressive arm, he’d placed a kiss to her temple, smiling with contentment that she was his to wake up to and kiss every morning. 

Standing then in front of the stove, flipping his pancakes absently, he thanked God for the blessing of her. He breathed in a long sigh and tried to fully appreciate the perfection of his life. 

The quiet was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around his waist, making him jump. 

“Did you forget about me?” A silky voice asked, lips brushing the back of his ear and sending a shiver down his spine. Claire must have been standing on her tiptoes to reach him. 

He placed his own hands over top of hers, hugging her arms, and swayed slightly back and forth to take her with him where she was pressed against his back. Affection welled up inside him, so strong that he was nearly overcome. 

“I couldna forget ye, mo chridhe. I only didna want tae wake ye up. Ye looked sae bonny and peaceful.” 

“You should have. I don’t like being in the… what is it called again?—” 

“Bed,” Jamie answered automatically.

“Bed. I don’t like being in bed without you. Besides, I quite like how you wake me.” 

A blush rose in Jamie’s cheeks as he thought about how he’d kissed her awake the past two mornings. He loved seeing her sleepy eyes open and her smile as she met the day with the sight of him. How her lips would grow more eager as she regained consciousness… 

“I’m verra sorry for leavin’ ye,” he apologized, turning around in her arms so he could loop his own around her waist, “whatever can I do tae make it up tae ye?” 

Claire hummed, looking exaggeratedly thoughtful, and then tapped a finger on her cheek expectantly. 

Happy to oblige, Jamie leaned down and placed a kiss at the indicated spot. Claire smiled in response, looking like a cat that got the cream. She then tapped the other cheek, and Jamie was quick to give it the same treatment, this time letting his lips linger for a long moment. Her smile widening, she pointed to her forehead. 

“Awfully demanding, are ye no’?” Jamie accused warmly before pressing an obedient kiss there. 

Claire just murmured an assent— apparently completely willing to own it— before her wee finger was placed over her lips. 

It took Jamie only the length of a heartbeat to cover her mouth with his own, uncaring of trivial things like morning breath or whether or not Claire would be able to taste the residual pancake batter on his lips. If she could, she didn’t mind, because she spent the next minute withdrawing half a centimeter only to kiss him again, her tongue less than timid as she indulged herself. He found it unreasonably enjoyable, and his hand wandered up to cup the back of her head to keep her mouth on his. 

Her appreciative murmur vibrated his lips, and that only served to encourage him all the more. 

But he was interrupted from his task by Claire drawing back enough to gasp, “do you smell that?” 

Tearing his eyes away from her puffy lips, he turned around toward the stove to see that his pancakes— really now more black lumps— had smoke rising from them in active billows. 

“Christ!” he swore, at the same time as the smoke detector began to go off. 

At the shrill noise, Claire let out a startled cry and smacked her hands over her ears. Jamie didn't have time to reassure her as he lunged toward the burning pancakes and tore them off the heat. He juggled them with one hand and turned on the fan with the other before shutting off the stove. With everything going wrong, of course it was that very moment when the handle of his old pan decided to snap, and the bowl of the pan (smoking pancakes included), started to fall. On instinct, Jamie grabbed for it with his free hand. Pain shot through him on contact, and he hissed as he jerked his hand away, allowing the damn thing to tumble to the ground. He jumped out of the way, smashing into Claire, who still was holding her hands over her ears and looking terrified. 

Exclaiming some rather colorful words, Jamie reached out his not burnt hand to steady Claire.

“Sorry, lass. It’s okay, dinna fash,” he said with a raised voice over the obnoxious beeping of the fire alarm directly over their head. 

“What’s that sound?” Claire yelled out, looked very distressed with her wide eyes and hunched shoulders. 

“It’ll stop in a second,” he shouted. 

Sure enough, as the smoking mess on the floor subsided, the smoke detector went quiet. Jamie breathed a sigh of relief. 

Claire, the poor thing, looked nearly ready to cry. 

“It was jes’ the smoke alarm, mo nighean donn,” he tried to reassure, “the sound makes sure that I ken there’s a fire so I can put it out.”

“I did not like that,” she said with a shake of her head, shuddering. 

“I’m sorry, a leannan, come here.”

Drawing her close, Jamie gave his faerie a cuddle. She melted into him, and the tension flowed from her muscles as soon as he enveloped her. It made Jamie swell with a certain satisfaction to comfort her over something so trivial, as if he were some knight in shining armor who’d rescued the fair maiden from the beastly alarm— only he’d actually been the one to cause it in the first place and he hadn’t done anything but make a mess while trying to solve it. 

As if suddenly remembering, or perhaps she could sense the slight sting in his fingers, Claire drew back and exclaimed, “give me your hand!”

Smiling but a bit nervous, Jamie held out his hand for her. He watched with anticipation as the soft golden light emanated from her hands as they formed a cup around his. This time, instead of watching the light, he turned his head up to look at Claire’s face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, lines etched in her face as she focused all her energy. She blinked hard once, shook her head, and went back to staring down at their joined hands. Jamie felt the tingling warmth flow through him, making his hand buzz with energy. The pain began to subside, and the determined expression on her bonny features eased. After half a second more, the light faded from her palms. She didn’t let go, but stroked his now perfect fingers between her hands. 

To add the finishing touch, she brought his hand to her lips and began to kiss each finger one by one. Her lips were soft; her kisses more healing than even her energy. 

“Ye make a good nurse,” Jamie said in a gravely tone, enraptured by her gentle touches. 

“Hmmm?” she murmured, still focused on her task. Finishing with his pinky, she curled his fingers down and pressed one last feather-light kiss to his knuckles.  

“Ye’re a fine healer, Sassenach,” Jamie amended. He brought his newly healed finger tips up under her chin and tilted her face up toward him. “And I’m verra grateful ye’re mine.” 

He leaned in to give her a proper kiss. She didn’t respond as enthusiastically as usual, but her lips molded to his and in a passive sort of way. He chalked it up to her nerves over the alarm and concern over his injury, but it still disturbed him because she had never responded in this way. 

Following his resolution to communicate better, he pulled back and asked while cupping her face with a tender hand, “are ye alright, mo chridhe?” 

The smile she mustered seemed forced, which didn’t do much to ease his worries. “I’m fine,” she said, “just felt strange for a second, it’s nothing.”

He kept studying her for another long second, but she remained firm in her statement without adding anything else. With a dip of his shoulders, he decided to let it go. 

“I’m sorry about that, my sweet one,” he said with a self-deprecating shake of his head, “I didna mean for all this chaos this morning.” 

“It’s not your fault, Jamie,” she countered. The newly growing smile seemed much more genuine again as she added, “I probably shouldn’t have distracted you while you were making…”

“Pancakes,” Jamie filled in. 

“Pancakes,” she echoed, looking thoughtful. 

She was trying to learn words as much as she could, and Jamie found that he quite liked his role as tutor. At least he quite liked rewarding her for her learning of new vocabulary. 

“And the word for the first meal of the day, do ye recall?” he quizzed. 

Looking up at him with a triumphant expression, she exclaimed, “breakfast.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed approvingly, “that’s verra good.” 

He leaned down and gave her a soft, gentle peck on the lips, and as he drew back, he found she was smiling. 

“You’re a very good teacher, you know,” she said, “maybe soon I’ll start teaching you another language and see if you’re as good of a student. Which one would you prefer?” 

Jamie laughed, “maybe we take it one step at a time. I can barely keep up wi’ things as it is. Maybe we start wi’ fair folk culture and go on from there.”

“Deal,” she agreed. 

“Anyway,” he said, marveling a little at her ability to get him sidetracked, “it seems my breakfast has been ruined. Perhaps ye’ll give me a wee moment tae grab somethin’ else?”

“Hmmm,” Claire looked gravely ponderous as she considered his request, “I suppose I’ll allow it just this once.” 

Jamie rolled his eyes with a smile that betrayed how happy moments like these made him. He took a step away from her, already mourning the loss, and headed over to the pantry. 

As he stood debating between the merits of cereal or a granola bar (both required no cooking, thank you very much), hands suddenly snaked their way under his shirt. He stiffened in surprise at first, and then relaxed as the hands started to stroke up and down the length of his back. 

He shot a glance over his shoulder to see Claire behind him looking innocently up at him. He raised a brow. 

“What are ye doin’, lass?” he asked. 

She gave a little shrug but did not remove her hands. “Touching you.” 

There’s his faerie. 

“Is that no’ what got us in trouble in the first place?” 

She gave a little hum that said I can’t argue with that, but then countered, “I don’t think I care.” 

Forgetting all about breakfast, Jamie whirled around. He grabbed the backs of her legs and hoisted her up into his arms. She let out a squeal but quickly got with the program, wrapping her legs around Jamie’s middle and her arms around his neck. 

As he held her tightly against him, their fronts smashed together, he turned his face to catch her mouth and kiss her fervently. Those perfect lips against his seemed almost victorious as she pressed them to his just as passionately. A hum of satisfaction rose from her, making Jamie nearly drop her with how watery it made his legs. 

After a long moment of enjoying her mouth against his, he finally drew back. 

“I dinna ken how every time I kiss ye it feels like the first time,” he breathed. 

“And I don’t understand how the first time I kissed you it felt like the hundredth time,” she agreed. 

“Hey,” he said suddenly, smiling so hard his face felt like it would split and tightening his grip on her thighs, “I love you, you know that?” 

“I love you, James Fraser,” she replied, her gaze soft with adoration. 

Jamie went to put her down then, releasing his grip on her legs and expecting her weight to drop off of him. Only instead of her legs unwrapping from his waist and her hopping down, she clung to him stubbornly. 

As he brought his hands far out to the each side to marvel at the barnacle that seemed to be glued to him, Claire tightened her hold. 

“A leannan,” he chuckled, “are ye no’ getting down, then?” 

“Don’t think so,” she said from where her face was pressed into his neck. 

He let out a very Scottish noise from deep in his throat. With one hand, he held her against him just to keep her steady, and with the other, he turned back to the pantry and began rooting through the items. 

He withdrew victorious with a granola bar from the package, and he held it up behind him to the wee faerie. 

“Care tae help me wi’ this seein’ as I only have one hand at the moment?” 

“Of course, darling,” she obliged. 

One of her hands reached out to grab it. Still keeping both arms around his neck, she somehow managed to tear open the package (much like a child would— she still hadn’t gotten that human task down) and then handed it back to him. 

It was beginning to get real to Jamie just how little personal space he would ever have again. 

And he loved it. 

“Thank ye, wee one,” he said before taking a bite. Curious fingers began to thread into his hair as he did, making it extremely hard to concentrate on the simple task of breakfast. Fingertips pressed delightfully into the nape of his neck and tangled into the soft curls there. 

His throat felt tight as she caressed him, making it hard for him to swallow. It wasn’t his fault that her every brazen touch turned him into a besotted sap… 

“Are ye going tae go through my whole mornin’ routine wi’ me?” he asked, shoving the last of the granola bar into his mouth, still rooted in the same spot by the pantry. 

Christ, this lass made it impossible for him to eat a meal slowly and in peace. Impatient thing. 

The fingers paused their exploration. “Most certainly.” 

“Well, we might as well have some fun wi’ it then. I ken ye dinna need it because ye dinna eat, but would ye care tae learn how tae brush yer teeth?” 

She drew back so she could look at him with eyes alight with curiosity. “What’s that?” 

“Ye’ll see.” 

*

Upstairs in the bathroom, Jamie somehow managed to detach his clingy faerie. She let go reluctantly, dangling her feet down and allowing Jamie to deposit her onto the ground. Once he was free, he stooped down to find a new toothbrush from the cabinet. Finding one from the dentist a few months ago, he let out an aha and held it triumphantly up to Claire. 

“And you use that on your teeth?” she asked warily. 

“Aye. It’s called a toothbrush. Watch.” 

Demonstrating with his own toothbrush, Jamie wet it before applying toothpaste and sticking it in his mouth. In what was likely a comical expression, he bared his teeth and exaggeratedly brushed the bristles over it. 

Claire was giving him a look of distaste and near horror that made his wame twitch with hilarity. 

He switched his brushing to go further back into his mouth, making her eyes go even wider. 

“Are you sure this is nothing like eating?” she asked, apparently still a bit traumatized from the incident with the spaghetti that first night.

“No,” Jamie laughed through the toothpaste in his mouth, “it jes’ cleans yer teeth after ye’ve eaten. Ye dinna actually swallow the toothbrush.” 

He rinsed and spit before straightening up to face a still dubious Claire. 

“Ready tae try, lass?” 

She wrinkled her nose a little but gave a nod. 

Jamie prepared her toothbrush for her. As he approached her, she eyed him with a wide eyed look of apprehension mixed with curious excitement. She opened her mouth tentatively like a nervous child at the dentist. 

He cupped his free hand around the back of her head, his thumb making soothing circles. Then, slowly, so as not to startle her, he placed the bristles onto her teeth. 

It was his expectation that she’d jerk away in disgust the moment it touched her, but she stayed still. He gently moved the bristles back and forth, very lightly over her front teeth, and she blinked rapidly and sucked a sharp breath in through her nose. 

“Alright, lass?” he asked with a smile as she froze underneath his hand. 

She gave a nod, and he continued, rubbing the toothbrush just over the front of her teeth. He felt it as she relaxed, the buzzing tension easing as she came to the realization that this was, in fact, not torture— nor anything like eating. 

She made a “huh” sound from deep in her throat, and Jamie withdrew the toothbrush so she could speak. 

“It feels… kind of nice,” she said slowly. 

“Aye. I ken ye dinna really need tae clean yer teeth since ye dinna eat to dirty them in the first place, but…” he eyed her with a gleam in his eye and a smirk, “if ye’re gonna be puttin’ that mouth on me all day long, ye might as well taste minty fresh.” 

To his great enjoyment, Claire flushed, looking at the same time like she felt embarrassed and also wanted to kiss him some more. 

“Here, lass,” he said, “wash yer mouth out.” 

He handed her a cup of water, and she mimicked what he had done earlier and rinsed.  

Once she was done, she straightened up and looked at him expectantly, as if there was some last step to be completed. 

“Now,” Jamie said, the corners of his mouth pulling up, “I’ll find out how ye taste, aye?”

***

Next

[qupshalfempty]

Written as a not yet established relationship but mutual pining. It got so lovey dovey my heart hurt while writing this. It's very rough around the edges due to not writing for so long, but I hope y'all like it!

108. “Shh… You need to be quiet.” W/ Ultra Magnus and a Cybertronian! SO

Walking out of my berth room I was immediately met with the distant voices of both Optimus and Magnus. Following the voices in curiosity, I entered the main room of the base standing behind both of them as they mentioned a mission, an energon mine and.. My name? Before I could greet them their attention's on me. Never being the subject of their gazes so intensely, I gave them a lopsided tilt of my dermas.

“What’s going on?”

...

The glowing light from the portal fades behind Magnus and I as our pedes stepped off of the concrete floor of the base and onto the stick littered forest floor set in front of us. The forest was dense, light from the Earth’s star struggling to shine through the canopy above. Many of the planet’s smaller life forms were skittering away disappearing deeper into the woods, most certainly running from our sudden appearance.

Magnus paid them no mind, instead signaling me to follow him in I assume to be the direction of the abandoned energon mine we were to scout out. I trail silently behind him, already preparing for the long trek ahead of us..

Other than the occasional hand signals and “yes sir” from myself the travel had been near silent, the only other sounds coming from the crunching of tree limbs and brier under our pedes and the occasional animals nearby. I could do nothing but let my processor wander, distracted from the mission at hand.

The gleams of light cast from the sun painted what parts of the forest floor it could touch with golden strokes. At times his plating would catch the light and reflect against the leaves and other flora he’d push past in reds and blues… This would be romantic if we'd actually said more than a couple phrases to each other. I could only hope for that to change and for him to acknowledge me with more than just small smiles and hidden softness from the rest of the team.

I silently thanked scouting missions like these, allowing me more time around 'Magnus than usually allotted for his position. It gave me the chance to enjoy his presence and what soft smiles he'd offer when we were alone, which has been the only sign of any feelings returned on his part. I’d only hoped it wasn’t out of politeness and rather returned feelings anyway, just the thought is what’s stopped me from confessing much earlier.. While it’s been pointed out plenty of times how different he acts around me and how much more gentle he is towards me... It’s hard to believe he’d return any feelings, or would want to pursue a bond when one of us could be offlined any klick while fighting this war. Although I’d take whatever time I had left to be with him… By the All Spark I’m in deep.

Next thing I know, my left pede hits a displaced root and I'm sent tumbling forward into a familiar blur of red and blue. Just barely catching myself with my servos on… Magnus’ back plating… I jolted backward, ripping my servos from his back like they'd touched rust, and shakily righted myself. He jumped in surprise, snapping his helm back in my direction with widened optics before his optic ridges down turned in his signature stern look. I withered under his stare with an awkward chuckle before he finally gave what I assume to be a sigh and an attempt at a softer look that was really just one of neutrality for him. 

"Be more careful."

Turning away without waiting for an answer, he continues. I hesitantly follow albeit much farther behind so I don’t embarrass myself again. After an estimated half an hour of awkward silence, he pushes a tree limb out of his way and stops in his tracks. 

"We're here." 

Magnus was already crouched behind some thickened shrubbery, giant enough to hide his stature, and was looking towards an opening in the lower brier's branches he had held back. Peering over his shoulder was a cave's entrance a little ways away, hidden near perfectly from sight with the dense woods surrounding it. Peaking out of the tall grass thoroughly covering the vicinity of the entrance was mining equipment and empty carts overgrown with vines. They were most definitely left behind. Thankfully we had coordinates or we would have never found this. Not that I would've minded being around Magnus longer anyway… I quickly shook my helm, ridding my thoughts away.

"We should comm the others." I whispered, focused completely on the cave and not on the inexistent distance of our shoulder plates. My fans whirred.

He nodded, already a step ahead of me with his servos to his audials.

"Ratchet, the coordinates were correct. It appears abandoned, we'll be on lookout."

"Affirmative." I hear Ratchet grumble.

Magnus then turned his helm to me and raised an optic ridge, realizing how close we were, I shove myself back as calm as possible for someone’s who’s fan’s volume turned to that of a garbage disposal. He either didn’t notice or mercifully said nothing and instead continued in his usual stern tone.

"We’ll be scouting the area for any decepticon activity."

"So.. we'll be here a while?"

"Yes."

…

After the equivalent of 3.5 earth hours and a detailed dirt drawing followed by a reprimand from Magnus about "leaving behind tracks"… I got bored. Being on a recon mission with my spark lighter, without any plot going on, was uninteresting to say the least... He didn't make an effort to talk, his steady focus solely on the cave and the wind blowing the shrubbery. The only sounds that could be heard was the chirping of birds and someone's fans kicking on.. that wasn't mine for once.

Looking up from my plating was Magnus' helm darting away from my direction and back towards the mine. Was he looking at me? 

Luckily, my fans had no time to react as Magnus held his left servo up, a silent command to stay still and quiet. He glared down at the entrance before giving the signal to follow.

He pushed his way past the shrubbery and slid down the cliff side we'd been securely perched on. I followed close behind, letting him lead a path through the straw like grass.

Now usually I don't question his orders, but this was meant as a simple scout mission, a "stake out" as the humans vids would say, and we comm base to come pick up the energon once it's deemed safe. But this seems to be quite risky for someone who's so.. well the complete opposite. 

I ran every scenario through my processor as we continued deeper. Maybe he heard something? I'd thought he'd comm back to base and let them know. But our job is to see if it's abandoned right? So we’d have to confirm if it is, although just the two of us and no backup? Whatever it was, I'm sure Magnus has a good reason. 

By now we were in deep, the only light we had to shine our way was our optics and from what little energon there was left behind in the walls. I was barely able to stop my chassis from touching his back when he suddenly stopped and motioned me to look into the wide open room ahead. My optics brightened at the sight.

Inside was a huge cavern with the walls and ceiling filled to the brim with energon, full of huge deposits that were barely touched. Carts full of even more glowing energy cubes were ready to be rolled out. For sure able to power our small team for a long while. Oddly enough the machines were trapped in vines and aimed at a wall full of energon, two more were aimed at another, covered in the same vines.. 

It's unbelievable that something drove the Decepticons out, especially with all of this energon ready to leave… But from the looks of it, it seems all of the abandoned machinery hasn’t been touched in a while...

"We should comm base-"

One of the drills far ahead cuts Magnus' whisper off, it turns on and attempts to cut into the rock around an energon deposit before groaning as it struggles against the vines holding it captive. Suddenly a Decepticon enters from one of the nearby halls and expects it, grumbling something along the lines of "fast growing.." and "damned flora.." while tearing the vines off...

We both duck behind the rock wall at the bot's appearance, Magnus’ throwing his arm back to push me behind him. Luckily the decepticon took no notice, ripping what little vines were left off before the drill’s shrill sounds started up again. Magnus looked over towards me and started to signal before he was stopped short by the sudden sounds of pede steps coming from behind us. Our only exit. 

My optics widen, I look to him for orders only to see the same surprise in his. He turns to me fully looking around the dark tunnel before his optics catch something behind me and pushes me backward into it. With no time to react my back plating hits a hard rock wall, reflexively letting out a muffled 'humph!' into someone's servos.

"Shh… you need to be quiet." 

Turning on my optics at the voice I was met with Magnus' chassis, and slowly trailing up his clavicular plate, his neck cabling, and finally his face were his optics gazing down at me inches away from my own helm. One of his servos covering my dermas while the other was pressed firmly against my side with what little space there was. I didn't dare speak, not with the pedes slowly getting closer or the intense stare of Magnus'. Looking at my surroundings before my fans kicked on, we were in near complete darkness if not for our optics. From what else I could make out we were in a small enough crevice for the both of us and surrounded by rock on all sides other than the tight opening I’d been pushed through. Magnus' form towered over me, keeping me from peeking out of the crevice he'd somehow shoved us both in. Daring to peer at his face I can make out his optics slowly dimming.

"Shut off your optics."

A shudder went down my spinal frame at the demand but I obeyed, hoping he wouldn't notice. Knowing how close our frames were and how intertwined our limbs were, he most definitely did.

We both stood stock still as the sounds grew closer, the voices complaining about the flora destroying nearly all of their equipment and setting them back by 7 Earth days. The panic built up pressure in my chassis, knowing they’d soon be passing us. The only thing grounding me was Magnus’ rough digits pressed into my coxal plating and dangerously close to grazing the side of my pelvic plate. I’d forced my fans to shut off despite the heat emerging from both of our frames.

A rock being kicked from a pede step just outside our makeshift cover made me flinch, something I dare not risk illuminating my optics to see pressed into my forehelm. I stood stock still, reaching out and clenching something to ease my jitters as we listened in the dark.

After the longest klick of my life, the sounds of pedes slowly fade away further into the cave. I only allowed my shoulders to relax when the cave around us was fully silent, I slowly turned on my optics before widening them in surprise from the helm inches away from mine for yet the third time this Earth cycle….

Magnus' forehelm was pressed against mine, his helm cast down and his features being the most peaceful I've ever seen them. Not a hint of his signature crease of irritation between his optic ridges, you'd nearly think he were recharging if not for the heat I felt on my own helm emanating from his.

I could do nothing, not able to move away even if I wanted to due to the rock keeping me trapped from behind. Instead, I stayed still. His optics slowly turned on, meeting mine before looking downwards. I followed his gaze to find the object I'd grabbed in the dark, my servos were tightly clenched around his digits. Before I could instinctively pull back and apologize, his digits wrapped firmly around my servos, three of his digits able to cover my entire servos fully. He’d made no move to push away, instead keeping our frames pressed together. My sensors were off the charts, at times sensing his thumb run over my outer plating along my hip.

I didn't know what to do, so I followed his lead instead. Not able to keep his gaze for long I tucked my forehelm into his chassis and we stayed that way for what felt like megacycles until we heard loud pede steps and the shooting of blasters coming close. Soon enough we recognized Optimus' and Ratchet's voices from close by. By then I knew we definitely took too long to comm back and I'm not planning on explaining what happened.

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 32

THE ROAD SO FAR

Mr. and Mrs. MacTavish

Francine "France" Winters

MacTavish Residence, Glasgow Scotland

3:46 AM

Francine squinted her eyes as she checked her phone, the bright light illuminated her whole visage. No new messages. John promised her he'd text her as soon as the mission was over. According to their briefing, the recon mission should've ended about four hours ago.

She shifted her position and turned to Maxine who looked sound asleep. A soft smile escaped her lips once she realized that Maxine was safe within her reach.

She forced her eyes to close again but couldn't quite get the sleep she needed. She wondered if John ever got tired running in her mind. After failing her last attempt to get some sleep, she slowly got up and made her way to the kitchen for some milk.

Much to her surprise, the kitchen lights were open and Samantha sat on the dining table, her chin rested on her arms as she stared on her phone.

"Can't sleep?" France asked and it shocked Samantha a little.

"Yeah. He's supposed to text me three hours ago. Now I can't help but worry." Samantha groaned in frustration.

"John promised that too…" she slowly placed her phone on the table and it beeped. The womens eyes widened as France excitedly unlocked her phone.

Her smile almost reached the heavens but soon after reading the notification, she suddenly went back to her frown.

"What was it?" Samantha asked, raising her head and looked at Francine.

"A software update notification." Francine sighed and went to grab a glass of milk.

"Say, France… has it ever crossed your mind that John would be the one you'll end up marrying?" Samantha asked. Francine's cheeks burned immediately at the idea as she envisioned herself living in a house with three children with mohawks running around. She wasn't ready for all of it but she's blushing at the sheer idea of it as if she liked it.

"Umm… uh.. I'm not sure. Sam." her tone was really suspicious, as if hiding something and making up blatant lies. She just wished Samantha couldn't see through her.

"Sorry for that kind of question. It's just that… I think that Alex is the one for me… that's why I'm this worried about him. I couldn't sleep knowing he's not beside me…" Samantha explained while pondering her situation. If that was the case for her, then France's insomnia could also mean that she's…

"I guess it's normal to feel that way…" France defended, downing a half full glass of milk.

"You've been with him for quite some time and you both admittedly loved each other, that's why you showed concern toward him." She continued.

"So, that goes to you too? Right?" Samantha asked. France once again got cornered by her own train of thought.

"Look. Yes. I'm concerned about John too… he's…" she smiled.

"He's something else… I'm far too ready to reopen myself to a relationship and he actually told me he was willing to wait and be a friend in need." she continued, now her heart was beating slowly but fluttering at the idea of her thoughts. John was willing to wait. That meant that she could have all the time at her disposal until she was ready to love again. But such time needed was already up, as she was already denying the inevitable feeling of love she was projecting toward the Scotsman.

"Sounds like you're already ready." Samantha teased.

"No I'm not!" France immediately dismissed her, grabbed her phone and went back to bed.

"As a matter of fact, I'll sleep right now!" She said as Samantha just laughed and waved goodnight.

France slowly paced in front of John's room. She felt as if there was a huge magnet pulling her towards it and the longer her phone doesn't ring, the more convinced she was to get in. Succumbing to temptation, she pushed the doors open and sneaked her way in.

His room was always her favorite place in the house. It showcased a lot of his personality that no one could ever see in him. Landscape drawings and sketches filled the room. Football jerseys with autographs were framed on the walls along with photos with his favorite athletes.

At first glance, everyone would say that John MacTavish had it all, but when you're staring at his eyes while having a heart to heart talk, you would know that that isn't all true. He didn't have it all.

France saw his black journal by the bed. It was strange that he didn't bring it for his mission. Last time you asked him what's inside, he just chuckled and said "mission details", showing a sketch of Price labeled 'caterpillar moustache'.

France was then again tempted to open the page where he left off, showing a beautifully sketched face of her, occupying the whole page.

"Tough on the outside, soft in the inside. Just like me." was written on the corner of the page.

"I knew that you saw through me the moment we met…" She whispered as she closed the journal and yawned, crashing on his huge bed they both shared days ago when she needed someone to talk to. Covering herself with the thick covers, she inhaled the signature MacTavish scent which still lingered on his bed and it was actually effective enough to lull her to sleep. It's as if he was there beside her.

France woke up as soon as it came to her senses that Maxine would be looking for her. Throwing the covers away, she immediately rushed back to her room. Pulling the door open and sneaking her way back.

The silent clattering of the plates and casual conversations filled the kitchen. Jack was talking about some of his experiences while Samantha and Maxine were giggling. Much to her curiosity regarding the two unknown voices, both male and female, she slowly descended the staircase and peeked.

Aside from Jack, Samantha and Maxine, there was a man and a woman, possibly married, who sat together by the table. She actually felt nervous once her sight landed on the man. If he was younger, his resemblance with John would be almost accurate. And judging by that look, Francine leaned to the idea that this was John's father.

John's father had the physical qualities of a Scotsman but the appeal of a western businessman. His accent was almost not Scottish.

"Ahh. I miss my home so much. Do you mind if I let loose a little?" Mr. MacTavish asked and his wife, judging by the body language of holding on his hands, chuckled at his idea.

"Don't worry. It's your home. You should feel comfortable." Jack replied with a smile.

With a deep sigh, Mr. MacTavish actually let loose and exhaled a very deep ramble in s heavy Scottish accent. His wife replied with the same energy and everyone cackled. France was amazed at how easygoing his parents were and it told a lot about John's upbringing.

"Ooh! Looks like our other guest woke up!" Mrs. MacTavish mused upon making eye contact with France.

"So Maxine, this is your sister?" Mr. MacTavish.

"Yes, Mr. Jonathan. It's Francine." Maxine answered and France waved and smiled at the MacTavishes. Her whole body felt awkwardly nervous. She felt like this was the 'Meet the Parents' part, except they weren't really a thing… yet.

"Nice to finally meet you, Sir Jonathan and Ma'am…" France shook his hand and paused at Mrs. MacTavish.

"It's Julianne." She smiled and shook her hand. For a moment, Francine actually felt her heartwarming touch as she slowly eased the nervousness away.

"Don't be scared of us dear. We don't bite." She smiled and Francine smiled back. When John told her about how serene he felt around his mother, he wasn't joking. Her aura was powerful.

"Honey, looks like there are a lot more women in the force nowadays. Have you ever wondered if our boy John has liked any of them?" he asked playfully while France was trying her hardest not to choke on her orange juice. It looks like Max and Samantha were just giggling on their own.

"Well dear, why don't we leave it up to John to introduce us to her." She chuckled and held her husband's hand.

"Where is he anyway?" Jonathan looked back by the door.

"He's still on a mission." France answered and everyone else looked at her.

"What I mean is, they are still on their way home." She corrected, stuttering as she replied.

"Well, it's such a shame we had to leave now. Duty calls!" Jonathan stood up and everyone followed them to the front door, waving their goodbyes. France shyly followed behind them and joined the group as they sent their goodbyes to John's parents.

As soon as the car left their sights, everyone else eased and released the pressure they felt.

"Woooah. Soap has some nice parents. I thought they'll get mad at us for crashing in!" Maxine said, sitting beside France.

"Well, Soap just proved to us that not all businessmen are evil, despite what television suggests." Jack added and yawned. It was still early and he already planned on sleeping.

Samantha sat there and stared at her phone. France checked hers too and called her attention.

"I didn't get any texts from him. But I assure you, they'll be here soon."

"So, tell me how worried you were when I didn't text." John smugly asked France while he emerged from the showers, a clean white towel was the only thing wrapping his body.

France just sat by the bed, her whole body facing opposite John. Her brows still furrowed at the idea that he wasn't able to text her that they finished the mission without harm.

Their arrival earlier was not quite the arrival she expected. Her heart was supposed to flutter at the sight of John, but instead sadness filled the whole house. Alexandra Ryder was gone, and it would be too rude to reach for his embrace at the time of mourning.

"I wasn't worried one bit." She spat and crossed her arms. He could hear John laughing a little and she wanted to look at him, but his stubbornness needed to be fixed, that is if she could.

"Really? Then how come I heard from Samantha that you were up at three-" France quickly turned to her back in an attempt to stop his trail of thought, but she was surprised that John's face was already close to hers as he was crawling towards her while he talked.

France's world paused for a little as her eyes met his, gaze locked on his icy blue stare as her heart started to beat differently and her ears started to heat up, and lips slowly formed a smile.

Her eyes trailed down to his lips, where it also happened to curve differently. He was smiling and it never occurred to her that John had smiled like that before. Her lips involuntarily pouted as she felt John's face inch closer to hers, as she slowly closed her eyes and let the Scotsman take over her lips.

The first kiss was quick, their lips just met each other for a short while and they both backed up, eyes locked on to each other, both sparkling and wanting for more.

"Fine." France whispered and reached for his cheek.

"I can't stop worrying about you, dumbass." she added and John let out a soft chuckle, leaning in for another kiss, but this time it was more than they both wanted. This time it felt like they were released from all the things constraining them. France actually gave in to him for the second time, and she was glad that she did this, because John sure was a very good kisser.

Next Chapter : The Broken Ship

Notification Squad my Beloved

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