#at least it's going to rhe drafts for now.

[inkpots-and-melodies]

[itsalwaysdark]

the difficulty of trying 2 explain to ppl that im Not being self deprecating or belittling my mental illnesses when i say something that could be perceived as overly critical towards myself but that thise things actually r true abt me. ppl did die.

[sirompp]

Muy Drafts Lately

[parakeetpark]

2001: A Space odyssey

[song-tam]

So I Wrote You A Song - Tam x Keefe

A/N: So this is finally done? I’m freaking out because this idea has been circling in my head for a while and I am so glad it is finally done! This is basically a high school!band!AU and I did headcanons about the four keeper boys being in a band here, which was kind of the inspiration to do a oneshot. Plus, I’m absolute Kam trash as well... and yes I did write an actual fucking song purely for the sake of the oneshot I’m just that extra don’t judge me and enjoy! (also let’s pretend Elwin adopted Keefe shall we, cassius sencen who?)

Warnings: I think there’s like a minor curse word in there but other than that pure kam fluff

Word Count: 1.4K

Taglist: @stardustanddaffodils @dreaminq-out-loud @sunset-telepath @summer-waves9764 @falling-drops-of-rain @jenniecrushed @jaxtheshade @beautifuldaysahead​ @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @the-genius-behind-the-mask​ @real-smooth @scribblesnsketches05 @the-sky-isnt-blueee @spreadyourwingsandfly @cadence-talle @linhamon2 ​ @xonar-verse​ @an-absolute-travesty​ @hershis-kotlc​ @turquoise-skyyyy​ @blxckh0les42​ @completekeefitztrash​ @gay-paladin-of-etheria​ @the-robins-chronicles @the-angel-of-all-storms

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“Okay, I don’t care what any of you say, but you sounded awesome!” Biana shrieked as the boys finished playing their latest song. “Best you’ve ever played, in fact.” The brunette had quickly become their biggest fan after they’d started playing for an audience, constantly stopping by rehearsals, screaming about them to everyone she met, and nominating herself Crystal Gambit’s manager--and she actually did a pretty good job; half the gigs they’d landed wouldn’t have happened without her.

“You say that every rehearsal,” Fitz grinned. “The sentiment is appreciated, though.”

“Oh, you were kind of awful,” Biana replied, “but the rest of you rocked it.”

Fitz scowled, and the others laughed, but in truth, Fitz was probably the best musician out of all four of them. Or the best singer, at least--his voice was amazing.

“But, Tam,” Biana continued, spinning around to face him, “you killed on the drums. I have no words.”

Tam gave her a small smile. If he was being honest, he never really knew what to do when Biana--or anyone really--complimented him. “Thanks, Bi.”

“And the new song you wrote,” Biana pressed, “what are you calling it again? You kept talking about it and now I’m excited so--”

“Wait,” Keefe interrupted, holding a hand out to stop Biana from rambling. “New song? What new song?”

Fitz looked just as confused as Keefe, but Dex knew exactly what Biana was talking about, and at least the periwinkle-eyed boy had the sense to save Tam from confessing. “Biana’s talking about that song Tam showed us earlier,” Dex lied. “Y’know, the work in progress. It’s a rough draft, Bi, and Tam’s only written the chorus.”

Biana caught on quickly and her eyes widened as she realized her mistake. “Oh. Oh. Yeah, for some reason I thought it was finished… um, but the chorus was great! I’m looking forward to the rest of it. Anyway, uh,” she grabbed her backpack and her brother’s arm, “Fitz and I should probably get going. Mom wants us home a little earlier today.”

“Thanks for the save,” Tam whispered to Dex as Fitz and Biana left.

Dex winked. “No problem. I know you aren’t ready to sing him the song yet.”

“Well, actually… I’m planning on confessing soon. Just not in front of an audience.”

“Well, good luck. Not that you’ll need it.”

“I’m going to need all the luck I can get, Dex.”

Dex snorted. “Come on. Everyone can see the way you two look at each other. Honestly, it’s surprising you two aren’t dating already.”

Before Tam could stammer out a response, Keefe slung his arms around both him and Dex. “Guys, don’t leave me out of this secret,” the blond pouted. “I’m lonely.”

Tam rolled his eyes, but really he was trying not to blush at how incredibly close the two of them were standing together. He was not going to think about how Keefe’s arm was around his shoulder, how Keefe smelled like vanilla, and--

Shut up, brain, Tam commanded himself.

“Shit,” Dex muttered, looking down at his watch. “You guys are gonna have to leave… Mom’s insisting that we go out for dinner, sorry...” But one look in his direction and Tam knew that Dex wasn’t the least bit sorry, that he didn’t have to go anywhere, and that this was all an act to get Keefe and Tam to be alone.

“Don’t worry about it,” Keefe said cluelessly. “Bangs Boy and I have some things to discuss.”

“Do we?” Tam cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Keefe said stubbornly, dropping his arm from Tam’s shoulder and grabbing his hand instead, dragging him out of the garage and outside. “Come on, come to my house--Elwin’s making dinner, he won’t mind if there’s another person.” Keefe smiled and Tam’s heart started doing cartwheels.

Honestly, Keefe, Tam thought as he stared at their intertwined hands. I’m already in love with you, so stop making me fall even harder, goddammit.

Before he knew what he was doing, Tam pulled out of Keefe’s grip and studied his reaction. Keefe seemed fairly indifferent to it, though his brows seemed to furrow a bit… but maybe Tam was just imagining things. Maybe it was all just wishful thinking.

But… every passing touch, every soft smile. It always felt like there was something more between every glance they shared, every word they said. There was more to the two of them, more to their relationship than they were admitting.

“Since when do you have an acoustic guitar?” Tam asked as they entered Keefe’s messy bedroom.

“Well, you started learning,” Keefe said with a one-shouldered shrug. “I couldn’t let you one-up me, now could I?”

Tam rolled his eyes. “Always a rivalry with you.”

“Only with you, Bangs Boy, you’re special that way.” Keefe winked. “Anyway, what’s that song Biana was talking about? The one you haven’t shown to me and Fitzy?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tam fibbed.

Keefe looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You’re really gonna try and hide it? Come on, dude, I know you--and I know whatever you’ve written will be even better.”

“It isn’t a song for the band, it’s… it was just something I wrote.”

“So there is a song! But even if it isn’t for an audience, or even for rhe four of us to play, I want to hear you. So,” Keefe gestured to his guitar, “can I hear it?”

Tam hesitated for a second. Was he really ready to do this? Ready to confess. Yes, he thought. I’m tired of him not knowing how I feel. I’m tired of not knowing if he feels the same.

He summoned courage, strummed the opening chords on the guitar, and started to sing.

There’s something that I’ve been meaning to say A truth I’ve been hiding for who knows how long My heart holds a secret, it’s been kept locked away And you might think it isn’t real, that I’ve got it wrong

But I think I kind of love you When I’m lost in the dark, you’re my light I know how cliche it sounds but it’s true I promise, it’s true that I love you

I know after this you might hate me And I won’t blame you if you don’t feel the same But I had to tell you, had to set these words free Because I think you like me too, so can we stop playing this game?

I think I kind of love you When I’m lost in the dark, you’re my light I know how cliche it sounds but it’s true I promise, it’s true that I love you

Why do we keep dancing around our feelings? Why do we keep pretending that this isn’t real? Because it is I know it is, and I know you know too So can we maybe just try this Try this and see where it goes?

I think I kind of love you When I’m lost in the dark, you’re my light I know how cliche it sounds but it’s true I promise, it’s true that I love you

Tam opened his eyes, watching Keefe’s expression, worried of what he might say. This is it, it’s over, a voice inside told himself, but another part said, You did it.

“Was,” Keefe said softly as he connected the dots, “was that about me?”

Tam nodded slowly, still studying Keefe’s face. “Um. Yeah, yeah it was. And… it was all true.”

Keefe shook his head dazedly, not saying anything, just staring at the floor.

“Keefe? Say something, please.”

The blond looked up to meet Tam’s eyes, and Tam gulped, wondering if this was it, when he was rejected, when his heart was broken, when--

Suddenly Keefe’s lips were on his and they were kissing and oh.

The kiss was everything. It was soft, and sweet, and filled with yearning and love and dreams and felt like fireworks. He tastes like vanilla, Tam noted.

Keefe pulled away for breath, and Tam felt a teensy bit disappointed, but that feeling was lost in the thought that Oh my God, I just kissed Keefe Sencen.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Keefe whispered softly, “I love you too.”

Tam felt euphoric at his words, it was all he’d been wanting to hear for he couldn’t remember how long. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?”

“Enjoyed that kiss, huh?”

“Just shut up and kiss me again, will you?”

[dredgenshrike-defunct]

Coreopsis knew that Orion was going stir crazy from being kept out of the field. While they also wished for him to get more rest, to allow himself to heal from what the Black Garden had done to him without proving to everyone that he was still a Guardian. He was, and he always would be until he wished to stop, but Core didn't know how to reassure him of that.

Instead, they smiled up at him one morning after breakfast. "I need to go out and do a m-materials hunt. Would you like to come with me? I need a few t-things from Nessus, the Cosmodrone, and the Dreaming City e-especially." Perhaps just getting Orion out of the house and the City and into the more wild air would help him feel better. While Core usually relied on stealth when they went on these hunts, with Orion there, they thought that might help him feel...well, like a protector still.

Orion's situation was...difficult, to say the least. Maybe he was just so used to the field it seemed normal, or maybe he was like a draft horse, that drive to work to the bone so ingrained that not doing it felt terrible. Or a shark...being stagnant meant death. There wwre so many ways to deacribe his situation, all leading to one meaning; not being rhe way he was before was killing him.

Core's offer made him look up with wide eyes, eyes shimmering. "You really want me to...?" He questioned, as if he hadn't heard them right the first time. He nodded though, giving a warm smile and being seemingly content with the mere thought of fresh air. "I'd love that Core. Maybe I can...try and figure out how everything works now, with some time outside." His tone damapened with his own reminder of how his light had mutated- already fretting over whether he could even make a bubble anymore or not.

[thecncitygirls]

Since it wasn't showing up in the tags no matter what I do here's another repost of the rough draft of my Ben x Jo fanfiction. Okay so basically this takes place at the birthday party in Ken 10. Kenny is Jo's kid and he has a twin sister named Kendrix.

Kendrix jolted from her position in rhe back and peered over at the small crowd gathering around her twin. What exactly did he get to receive that much unnecessary attention? So unnecessary she forgot to feel jealous. Nope...she wasn't jealous at all....

A shiny black and white wristwatch looking conspicuously like the one their dad wears...Wait a minute? Was that a-???

"An Omnitrix!" Kenny yelled joyfully as he slipped on the watch. All the kids cooed in awe as Ben began to instruct Kenny on its uses. She could see her twin frown when their dad mentioned something about Toepick....gross.

Okay so maybe she was a bit jealous that her brother got one of the most powerful gadgets in the universe but she didn't really care not at all.

Wait...if he got one...then SURELY there was another one made just for her!

📑📑📑

"How come I don't get an Omnitrix?" she whined. Ben's mind wandered to Azimuth's lab: he could see himself practically begging on his knees to make another copy of thr Omnitrix for his children.

"Just one," the amphibian alchemist had said, finally relenting to the grown man's demands. "But only one!"

It was a miracle he was even able to convince Azimuth to add more than ten copies, let alone an entire new Omnitrix with the same functions as the original. But he couldn't say it out loud. Jo and Sour Patti would NEVER let it go if she found out the full extent of his request (knees and all). So his only option was to gently remind his daughter that it would take a long while for a second copy to be made.

The only obstacle? How in the hell he'd be able to convince Azimuth to make a second copy.

"Now Kendrix your father worked very hard to make it," Jo replied softly, knowing full well he went to beg Azimuth. Hubby thought he was slick! "At least try to be a little happy for your brother."

"I'm not trying to be happy for him," Kendrix snapped suddenly. "I'm asking why I didn't get an Omnitrix!"

"Hey watch that tone with your mother young lady," 10k warned. "The reason why I only brought one is because they take a very long time to build." And even longer to persuade Azimuth, he added silently.

Kendrix closed her mouth and glared directly at her father. It was the look Gwen shot him whenever he did something stupid.

It was the look Jo had when they broke up the first time and she rejected his flimsy reasoning.It was the look of an emotionally disgruntled woman.

And boy, it WASN'T a good feeling to be on the receiving end.

Her fury reaching a breaking point, tears formed in her eyes and lips trembled as if she was about to cry...

...Except she didn't. What she DID end up doing was let out an enraged hiss. Like an honest to god SNARL that would make a Vulpimancer proud; a perfect imitation of Whampire. A hiss so remarkably hateful and filled with contempt that it completely shocked everyone into silence.

Even the Hero of Heroes was stunned at the sheer audacity of the act.

Ginger's eyes and mouth were wide as windows, Patti in the background smirking with delight as if boasting "That's what you get, chauvinist pig."

Now Kenny felt bad for his sister. Oh well that was her problem. Unlike her he was actually GRATEFUL for their dad taking the time out of his day to spend time with them. He knew how busy his job was, which made him all the more excited to tag along with him! And given her outburst it kinda dawned on him why she didn't get one: her temper could spoil both the mission AND the fun.

Jora was completely blindsided by her daughter's outburst. Okay she knew she had some sort of an attitude problem but that was sooo totally out of line! She looked at her husband who had a very disturbed expression, mix of the sheer audacity, the need to instill immediate discipline and...guilt?

Kendrix's eyes widened as she realized just what she had done and ran out the lobby, ignoring the calls of her mother, down the corridor to her room.

Once the door slid shut behind her she sunk down on the floor and allowed the tears to fall.

The silence went on for a few more minutes until it was broken up by Grandpa Jeremy. "Who wants more cake?"

[cubeswhump]

Will Not be a Victim for my character, Blondie.

The neglected Blondie. I need to get back to my Powers Verse too. And the immortal bitches. I have a Sweetie and Michelle story drafted though.

Warnings for mentions of violence, referenced torture, bit of ableism. Pretty tame compared to what I usually write.

The phone rang from her nightstand, and again, and again. Then it started pinging with texts: Terry-Ellen has spoken to me but my own daughter won’t answer her phone.

I’ll be arriving at your house at 6PM.

Blondiw growled and dialled the number. The phone rang only twice before the deep voice came on the other line: “Oh, so you’ve decided to stop ignoring me?”

“Fucking hell, Dad. I’m twenty-three,” Blondie reminded him. “Chill.’

"Language, Melinda,” he scolded lightly. “I don’t care of you’re eighty-three. You’re still my daughter and we just got you back. I need to be sure that you’re okay.”

"I'm fine, Dad."

"Are you really?"

Blondie pinched the bridge of her nose. Don't call him a nosy twat, don't call your dad a nosy twat. She breathed out. "You hired a fucking bodyguard for me. "That's humiliating enough, and now you're prying into my life like I'm a child."

"Language. Good lord, you take after your mother," he sighed. "Who are you embarrassed in front of? You haven't left your house in more than two weeks." His voice was so even and annoyingly calm. Blondie swallowed back the snarl crawling up her throat. "Is it really prying to be concerned about my daughter? I just want to know that you're okay. I haven't seen you since-"

"Okay, okay, I'll stop by tomorrow. No need to stop by." She knew her father would have some words if she saw the state her house was in. Tej wasn't hired to clean after the slob, and no one had patched up the hole Blondie punched in the living room.

"Are you sure? If I come over you can stay home and rest," he offered.

"You just got on my ass for staying in my house!"

"You know that is not what happened, Melinda."

"I'll be there at eleven in the morning, okay?"

"I'll expect you by twelve."

Blondie huffed and hung up as he chuckled.

***

Tej was prodding her. "Get up. We've gotta go soon."

Blondie lifted her head abd ahot rhe other wonan a glare. "There's no we. You're staying home."

"You know that's not how it works," she said, unfazed. "I'll make you coffee."

"Don't." Blondie pyr one foot on the floor and grabbed one crutch. The other must have fallen over at some point in the night, and Blondie whacked Tej with the crutch in her hand when the thin woman tried to help her retrieve the fallen one. "Scram, bitch."

"Very nice, " Tej said sarcastically, handing her the crutch anyway. She caught the crutch Blondie swung at her. "Have you ever considered treating the help like people?"

"Go on, call me a bitch. There's nothing in your contract that says you can't insult me, yeah?"

"I'll leave you to get dreased," Tej said dryly. "Your hair looks nice. Did you wash it?"

She shut the door behind her just in time for the television remote to crash into the wood.

Blondie had only worn bath robes and undergarments for the last few weeks and she hadn't gotten to modifying any pants to her new body. Skirts? No, fighting in a skirt wasn't a great idea - if she needed to fight. Fights were always possible.

Shorts. A pair of shorts, one sock, one combat boot. The left bood sat all alone and sad. She kicked it over. Hair in a bun.

"Your coffee, Blondie." Tej shoved the steaming mug right in her face while Blondie was trying to sneak out the front door.

"I told you not to make me coffee," Blondie grumbled.

"Coconut creamer and one Sweet-N-Low," Tej tempted her, voice sing-song.

"I'm getting coffee on the way to my dad's, shithead." And she was out tje door, slamming it behind her - or trying to. Tej caught it just before it closed and slipped out after her.

"Want me to drive? You can relax," Tej offered, reaching for the keyring in Blondie's hand. Blondie jerked it away.

"I'll relax when you're dead. It's my fucking car."

"Cool, cool."

Tej was in the passenger's seat before Blondie had even opened her door so she couldn't even lock her out. Tej smiled at her knowingly. Blondie gripped the steering wheel sp hard her fingers turned white.

Tej tried to make conversation throughout the drive and Blondie turned the volume up a few notches every time she opened her mouth. After a million years, she pulled up in front of the coffee shop.

"I'll get you an iced mocha cappuccino," Blondie said as she got out of the car. Tej was stepping out too.

"Nah, I wanna look at the menu," she replied. Blondie squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, reciting the "calming phrases" from her counseling sessions as a teenager.

When was this place ever this busy? Blondie sighed as she joined the line, Tej at her side. "You know, you're paying for your own shit."

"That's fair," Tej shrugged. "Your daddy pays me weekly."

Blondie sneered at her.

The line inched forward. A woman and her child joined. Seriously, did the entire fucking town want coffee right now?

"Wow..." the woman said, her voice hushed. "What happened?"

Blondie didn't realize the woman was talking to her until she felt a tap on her shoulder.she turned around, finding the woman's wide eyes on her still-bandaged stump. The little girl stared too, reaching for Blondie's crutch. Blondie jerked it away from her sticky hand and scowled, but neither noticed.

"What happened?" the woman asled again. "Why don't you get a prosthetic leg?"

"I pesteres someone with intrusive questions and she pulled out a machete," Blondie snapped. The woman recoiled.

"Ma'am, you're being very insensitive, and you should teach your child not to touch anyone's mobility aids." Tej launched right into a lecture. "Please treat my friend as you would treat-"

Blondie's temper boiled over. She raised one crutch and bashed it into the woman's knee. Tej's hand clamped over her own mouth as the woman fell over with a screech, dragging her daughter down with her.

"Oops. My bad." Blondie turned her back on the pair.

"Did you see that?" the woman cried as she got back to her feet. The cashier looked over from the customer he was dealing with, frowning.

"I'll be out fast," Blondie promised the cashier. "No trouble."

They walked out with their coffees and gluten-filled breakfast, Blondie's coffee spouting steam that smelled of coconut... Something she could have gotten at home. Tej predictably got a mocha cappuccino.

"I mean," Tej finally said during their resumed drive, mouth full of bagel, "not that I blame you much, but public battery isn't a food luck."

Blondie turned the radio up higher.

The guard let them into the gated, cookie cutter community. Towering houses were identical, painted a cream not a shade lighter or darker than the house nextdoor. Perfect gardens, no blade of grass even a centimeter overgrown. One house had flowers a different shade of pink than the rest. Blondie might have struggled to differentiate the houses if Chase weren't waving frantically at the end of one driveway.

"Melinda, love, how are you?" The large man was coming at her with open arms as she stepped out of the car. She was too slow thinking of an excuse to get out of hugging her stepdad, and he squeezed her tight.

"Peachy," she told him.

He hugged Tej too before letting both women into the house. He was talking a mile a minute and Blondie let Tej handle the conversation.

"I see you brought beverages. No tea then?" he asked. Blondie shook her head. "Oliver's in his study."

"Tell him hi for me," Tej chirped, and Blondie decided she would not do that. She hurried away when the other two started discussing how much they lift at the gym.

115 pounds? Unimpressive, Tej.

She didn't bother knocking on the mahogany door, throwing it right open. "Yo."

Oliver swiveled around in his chair like a James Bond villain. He even looked the part with his coiffed grey hair and serious expression. "Good morning, Melinda. You were almost on time. Have a seat."

"Nice to see you too," Blondie said sarcastically, falling back ontp the plump sofa.

"Oh, no, you're covered in crumbs! Why didn't you brush yourself off outside?"

"Just vacuum later. I had a muffin."

Oliver sighed, turning back to his laptop. "Depending on your recovery time, we'll get you fitted for prosthesis." He flicked through images. Some were very realistic and even matching her skin color, others clunky and robotic, some abstract and hardly resembling a limb. "We should find a design that fits your activity level, preferably a more realistic one. No one has to know. At that point we'll get you to that physical therapist I've been talking to, and-"

"Whoa, hold on a minure. Don't I get a say?" Blondie snapped. "And who said I want a realiatic one? Maybe I don't want to pretend I'm fucking normal."

"Whatever you want, darling. But I'm not going to let you hold yourself back."

"You tell me to take it easy abd slow down and then you get on my ass for being behind the curve. The fuck is that?"

Oliver sighed. He turned back tp his daughter, choosing his next words carefully. "I know how much you enjoy your hobbies. I think it'll be better for your mental health if you get back into dance and martial arts soon."

Back into dance. She was already the largest girl in the studio, dwarfing the tiny instructor even when she was twelve. Skilled as she was, she never had a ballerina's body and her instructor's main complaints were her thundering footsteps and "unladylike gait". Well, at least pointe shoes wouldn't hurt a prosthetic leg.

"It's my body and my life," Blondie reminded him.

"And it's my money that pqid your medical bills," he shot back. She rolled her eyes. "Melinda, you know I just want what's best for you. I want to help you. I need to help you."

"Help yourself first," Blondie snarled. "How's your boytoy?"

"I've been married to Chase since you were eight. Stop calling him my boytoy," Oliver sighed. Any other time, Blondie might have laughed at how annoyed her dad got when she mocked his husband. "And fifteen years isn't such a significant age difference when you're out of your twenties."

"He's a gold-digger."

"He's well worth what he costs, and he loves you like his own daughter. Come on, stop changing the subject. You mean so much to me. You were the victim of such a-"

"I'm not a victim," she hissed, leaning forward in her seat. Her eyes narrowed. "If anyone's a victim, it's that bitch Camilla. You know, queen of the cabbage patch."

Oliver's eyebrows knit together. "Cabbage patch?"

"Because she's a vegetable," Blondie said, and her father sighed heavily.

"I'm not denying that she's a bad person, but you don't need to be discriminatory. Other, much nicer people live with brain damage."

"Dad, shut the fuck up and listen to me," Blondie demanded. "I fought my way out. I'm not a victim!"

"Yes, yes, you're a survivor," he said in a voice like he was placating a toddler.

"No, I'm Melinda fucking Van Doren."

He lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Before anything, you're my daughter and I want what's best for you."

"I actually know what's best for me because I am me."

"I'm your father. I know you pretty damn well."

"Yeah, okay. I'll keep in tough." Blondie started to stand, but Oliver held a hand up.

"Stay for lunch. Samantha made two extra plates."

It still weirded her out that her father had a cook. Her mother missed having servants after the divorce, but Blondie tried her best to keep her home free of employees. And she got stuck with Tej, the most intrusive Van Doren employee.

Chase brought two plates of chicken parmesan to the damn study.

"Workaholic," he said and rolled his eyes, kissing Oliver on the cheek. Blondie rolled her eyes. "Well, I've been having a lovely chat with Miss Tej while you two have been bonding."

Bonding. Sure.

Blondie stabbed into her chicken. She imagined it was the Queen - no, Camilla - that she was stabbing over and over, making sure she never recovered. Because she wasn't the Queen's victim.

She was Melinda "Blondie" Van Doren. She was a fucking hero and people would know that soon.