#kalmaccountant

[stingslikeabee]

Pick a URL you haven't talked about yet and talk about them!

send me a url and I’ll write some positivity for it . accepting

Ohhh you’re a clever one, Light! :) For this one then I’ll pick Jae Jae because we cannot have someone sending in someone’s URL and not having good things said about them because... That’s the ultimate selfless act on tumblr, right?

And Jae Jae is so cool? I think my favorite thing about them is that they write Cissnei to perfection (and the reason I can’t wait to see her in the remake after these gorgeous shots, yes please give me more Turks!) and Zwei is such a great character? Like, being an OC writer myself, I love anyone who will pick up an original muse and infuse them with personality, like our favorite accountant! Who doesn’t love him? Who isn’t charmed by this guy?

Plus, Jae Jae is literally the sweetest thing to talk to and has given me these pre-existing bonds that I crave? With Cissnei in the medieval AU or now with Zwei, I just love when we can connect muses and establish something that deviates from the first meeting interactions and stuff - and I don’t think this flies if there’s not a good deal of plotting and comfort ooc, so kudos to Jae Jae for being the sweetest welcoming bean they are!

So yeah, Jae Jae is amazing and I will always be excited for anything they do, be it Turk reports on fellow colleagues (I still fucking live for that one) or Zwei breaking into places through windows because apparently that’s a thing for my muse now. :) 

positivity for: @kalmaccountant

[turkoftheslums]

@reno2ndgun replied to your post “I'm trying to think of why the people of the Department of General...”

Technical Urban Reconnaissance Kill Squad

@kalmaccountant replied to your post “I'm trying to think of why the people of the Department of General...”

Switch out technical for Tactical and you've got the perfect acronym

Yeah, Tactical Urban Reconnaissance Kill Squad does fit quite well, though I’m thinking since it’s an unofficial nickname? @elena-bo-bena did some digging while I worked and found that a ‘Young Turk’ is someone who is “keen on making some radical changes in a well-established organisation” (okay, Rufus), and a Turk can be a “bloodthirsty and savage person” (Noun 4)

A big part of me wants to imagine my scenario and then you’ve got bunch of them sat around trying to come up with a cool acronym for it. Actually a very, very big part of me wants to imagine them toasting to it when they come up with it lol.

[thememcry]

🧦  :    your  muse  walks  in  on  my  muse  changing  clothes .

      🧦: your  muse  walks  in  on  my  muse  changing  clothes // tension, a symbol meme.

      “ zwei, we’re going to be late. ”

      a glace at her cellphone told her that if they dallied any longer they’d miss the reservation time. how many dates had he gotten out of her, now? more than a handful, but aerith wasn’t complaining. work ran long this time, she understood that ---turks were busy people, after all, and he wasn’t beholden to spending his spare time with her ... off the clock. it wasn’t necessarily allowed, either but when did aerith gainsborough follow the rules?

      not frequently.

      he’d snagged her from the sector 5 church and spirited her topside in the flash on an eye, apologizing about the mess (his suit was covered in some sort of powder and something dark that aerith didn’t quite accept as blood ---he seemed fine) as he strolled through the door of his apartment. give me five minutes to clean up and he’d whisked himself away to do just that.

      and five minutes slid by, slow and purposeful with the occasional rush of water coming from the cracked door of his bedroom and perking aerith’s curiosity to peer into the slat. nothing. and when the silence filled the space instead she found her impatience winning, found her gaze shifting back to the clock and a promise of give him five more minutes.       one minute later and there was still silence. she knit her fingers together and uncrossed them several times.             two minutes later and there was still silence. he did look a bit frenzied. maybe he was still washing up.                   three minutes later and there was still silence. no running water at all, was he still conscious?                         four minutes later and there was still silence. maybe he was worse off than he looked? what if he was seriously hurt under there? what if he was out cold on the floor, bleeding?                               five minutes later and there was still silence. aerith pushed away from the couch and made for the door to his room, more nervous than not at the imagined scene in her mind.

      blood everywhere. pale skin, some horrible wound he’d managed to conceal from her this entire time on display. she’d do her best not to panic, not to lose her cool (and really, she was quite good at keeping a level head in those dire situations, should they come to her) and tend to whatever horror show awaited on the other side of that door.

      it creaked softly when she brushed the tips of her fingers against the wood, found the knob to guide it open, filled the space between the door itself and the frame. 

she should have knocked.

      all of the air left her in a rush, a gentle push that had her head a bit lighter than it’d been moments before. a mixture of relief and sudden heat filling the space where the anxiety had been moments before. thank gaia he was fine. aerith, you moron.

      bare shoulders caught her eye first, a fine shape sculpted by what she assumed was many years of self-care and hard work put into keeping them that way. the skin pulled taught over the lean muscle below, the shape of his back and the line of his spine like a dimple separating him into halves. he was tan and hard, marked by scars she could only imagine how he’d collected over the years.

      and her eyes followed that sweet line down the column of him, to the actual dimples above his rear where the tight flesh there disappeared into the pants he’d only just tugged up and began to fasten. gods, she must have been a brilliant shade of red, the expression on his face shifting from the momentary confusion of her sudden appearance to that sleek grin he usually allowed to occupy handsome features while he peered over his shoulder at her.

      “ i uh, ” she cleared her throat. she swallowed a hard lump of air and forced herself to inhale again. “ i’ll be in the living room. ”

      the door creaked once again while she sealed it back to the slat. aerith only heart zwei chuckle as she turned for the living room and trudged back to her place. she’d wait.

[architectofhope]

Less Cringy NSFW/Intimacy Memes | status: open

@kalmaccountant asked “✸ for a drabble about my muse having a sex dream about yours”

  It had been too long... he knew because the dreams were starting to plague him — strange and twisted faces, people he knew, people he didn’t know or had seen in passing over the week; visages on scan atop desiring and desirable bodies. 

  Reeve was oft to neglect bodily needs such as these. In the grand scheme of things they took such a backseat to everything else in his life in regards to importance that he almost forgot himself a man capable of sexual endeavor at all. Arousal was an inconvenient feeling for a man who spent so much of his time with his head in his work, care-taking other people. Even his dreams felt selfish.

  Selfish in the way he let his gaze linger lasciviously on the body of a man — a suit crisp, blue? No, black. Tailored. A stark, recognizable silhouette that could only belong to a Turk. But who? No long hair, no shock of blood-red, no glisten of shaved skin. Words came out of the male’s mouth in an easy familiarity that spoke of casual chats and deeper understanding.

  There could only be one.

  His face became clear upon this recognition, stubbled jaw and carefully crafted coif, a flash of that boyish smile that disarmed faster than any sort of martial power he knew of. It would be a lie to say Reeve hadn’t found the male exceedingly attractive — one would have to be blind not to, regardless of their leanings — but he hadn’t realized to what extent until he found himself dreaming of winding his hand in that tie and kissing that smug grin right off his face.

  Aggressive. Too aggresive — Reeve was never this aggressive. He felt as a hostage in his own body, watching himself ripping buttons and yanking belts, pushing and being pushed until they were on desks amid papers and notes that drifted to the floor like the petals of dried flowers, sundered by the fervor of two aggressive men. It felt wrong, but he needed this. His body demanded it, and he didn’t care if it was given or if he had to take it. 

  He felt a pull, the others hand in the front of his open trousers, drawing him up and — 

  Awake. He startled from his slumber suddenly by the mere idea of the man’s touch gripping him, and him shameless and wanting, hips pressing high into the invasive palm. He lay there in his bed with the phantom of stubble on his lips, so vivid moments before yet the tactile sensation was fading fast from skin that remained untouched.

  His heart still raced, however, the blood coursing hard and fast through his veins — the physiological response very real to an imagined stimuli. He glanced down at the tousled blankets, plucking up the sheets to find his body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat in the ambient light of the reactors through his slatted blinds, and the strain of a very unsatisfied erection against the quaver of his stomach. 

  “ — Shit,” he dropped his head back onto his pillow, sheets slipping out of his grip as he slung his arm over his eyes. He hadn’t been asleep hardly two hours, and if the situation in his sheets was any indicator, he would not be getting back to sleep any time soon. 

[chainedbydarkness]

kalmaccountant asked: “It doesn’t work - wait, fuck - does it? Oh, it does.” *chinpalms*

Markimoo Starters - Accepting

          ———————–

                                ◄⌐💉¬►

     Conláed watched Zwei with a slow-rising brow, his arms crossed infront of his chest and a bemused smile teasing rose-touched lips. He was watching the accountant attempt to figure out a puzzle the medic had plopped down onto his desk, and he could only snicker to himself. “ You can open it, Zwei. You’re the one who’s good with numbers. Assuredly this would go hand-in-hand with puzzles, yes? Quick-thinking, strategy, the like.”

     He could sense the dirty look shot his way when he turned to peer at his clipboard and took notes on how long it took the accountant, as well as how much he struggled with the seemingly complex item. He couldn’t help but snicker, flinching away as an eraser was sent sailing past his head in revenge.

[firstinline]

      this is why you shouldn’t add priest on wire, feat @kalmaccountant, and with @stingslikeabee dragged into it.

[phantomarchive]

kalmaccountant​:

{ Starter for @phantomdream }

Life had to go on, he knew that better than anyone. But how could he? Ever since the Plate fell, Zwei had blamed himself for not being there. That he put his profession and job before the one person he ever truly cared about. Now he had to live the rest of his life knowing that the one who stole his heart was gone.

Zwei had thought to rid himself of the many mementos left behind by the rebel that he fell for, but it hurt him too much. Even Stanley could sense that something was wrong with his partner, and like any trusty companion, comforted Zwei when he needed it most. The Turk had found himself spending time working on unfinished projects that the rebel wanted to do, perhaps one day leading him to a state of enlightenment or paying back to her in spirit what he should've done while she was still alive.

The bike she was working on took a week to finish, in between work and late at night, he found himself working on it. And by the end of it, the bike was indeed repaired... More or less, but the pain of loss could only be halted for so long. Tonight was the worst in the many days after. Locking himself in the master bedroom, the Turk finally broke down.

He gripped upon his phone, tears streaming down his face and a bottle of wine in the other hand. Zwei was already halfway done as he read through all the texts that the pair had sent each other... Happy memories. That gradually lead to the final part. He could've stopped this, stopped her from falling victim... Stopped her from dying. The eerie silence of the room, sombre and sorrowful as the usually steadfast accountant crumbled. Being alone was the last thing he wanted but even Stanley couldn't help in this situation... He missed her. His own Ray of sunshine, his cute mechanic.... He wanted Jessie, but now she was gone.

"Why do the good ones always leave me?"

〚 ❣ 〛 Jessie barely remembers platefall, even weeks after it happened. She remembers gunfire and the chopping of helicopter blades through the air; explosions and...she thinks she can recall Cloud and Tifa? But it’s all such a blur surrounded by the darkness of the several days she was comatose before waking up confused in Sector 6, being tended to in the gym turned into a makeshift recovery ward where people tried to help survivors heal.

Try as she might, she can’t remember anything about it, but hears the sound of crumbling metal in her sleep, wakes up often in a cold sweat, tears on her cheeks and a cry on her lips. It exacerbates some of her injuries, thrashing around like she does, but at least those seem to be getting better. Some of her bones are being set before the healers can use magic to heal it the rest of the way, and she has permanent aches setting into her shoulder and knee (oh gods, her knee hurts like a bitch, and she’s taken to wearing a brace on it at all times just to remain steady when standing), but she feels off after it all.

Are her friends alright? Did they make it out safely? Biggs was on a lower level than she was, did he make it to safety? Barret, Tifa, and Cloud? Were they crushed beneath the mountain of metal? And-

Zwei. He’d been so concerned after their last fight, after she sent him that one picture of herself all dolled up only to stop talking to him for the rest of the night. Couldn’t take her phone into Corneo’s, didn’t have time to check it when she got back and the tower was being attacked. He must be so worried.

It takes a few days, but Nellie, who’d thankfully been out of Sector 7 at the time, had managed to find her phone amidst the destruction. The screen’s cracked in the corner, but considering what it’d been through, it’s a miracle that’s all it is. It still charges, and when she powers it on, she’s greeted by an onslaught of texts and missed calls from Zwei, starting with concerned, moving to upset when she never responded, but growing more and more worried, scared, sad, as the weeks passed and she never replied. Dozens and dozens of messages, texts and voicemails, and she tears up at hearing his strained voice on the other line begging her to call him, please, please.

And she does. With slightly trembling fingers, she calls him back, waits for several rings before he picks up, and even sounding cautiously hopeful, he sounds beautiful. “Hey,” she says, finds that her voice shakes a bit. Anticipation? Happiness? Relief? All of it. “Sorry to disappear on you like that. I had a date with a mob boss and some Turks. Turned pretty bloody. You hear about it?” She laughs, tear-filled but happy.

[cssnei]

Status Update

//I am alive and I'm feeling better about where I stand with this muse and where I want to take her going forward. Same goes for @kalmaccountant, for the people that are still around here and are waiting for my return I wanna thank them so much from the bottom of my heart.

I love you all so much, I really don't deserve what I get from you guys but I get it anyway and it's super humbling. Please bare with me another couple of days before I start picking things up on here again.

PS: I really want to keep tabs on all of you so if you want to add me on Discord, feel free too on ChaoticBizkit#7685.

I guess this is a positivity post? So I'm just gonna tag all of the people that have been keeping me sane whether through IMs or just being a really nice person to me. Sorry for the notif I just feel like I should thank you guys

@gyahahahaha, @controlthroughfear, @thememcry, @turkoftheslums, @renoltage, @hercbled, @sweettifalockhart

(I've probably missed a load of people but this is what came out of the top of my head I'm sorry if you weren't tagged)

[firstinline]

@kalmaccountant

[stingslikeabee]

Throw some positivity @chasiingrain for me ❤️

send me a url and I’ll write some positivity for it . accepting

It’s easy to talk about the Light of our lives because who doesn’t feel a bit blessed to have her in our dash? :D I remember I first followed for Jessie, who remains my favorite muse to this moment, because I skimmed a couple of her replies and went ‘this is her voice - this is Jessie speaking omg’.

And then I just stalked some interactions, mostly with Leo - and I just came to appreciate Light so fucking much? Like, how can this girl be so absolutely sweet? I mean, is there anyone who doesn’t want to desperately snuggle Light across the computer? Because I want to. Every day!

I love it when I can bond easily with a mun ooc and I remember Light and I literally went into IMs screaming at each other and honestly, it was such a delight. :D I absolutely admire her effort in all these muses with their voices, icons and verses, all her love for these incredibly cute fur babies, and how supportive she is? I swear Light has this sixth sense for people feeling upset and she just pops up in your inbox with words of love.

So yeah - Light is amazing. All the muses are amazing. Her nail art is to die for (I just hoped we didn’t have a pandemic so she could teach me how to do mine). Light deserves her nickname, honestly.

positivity for: @chasiingrain 

[turkoftheslums]

'✍' CISSNEI OR ZWEI TAKE YOUR PICK

Send me ‘✍’ and I will draw your muse horribly on MSPaint

You think you can get away with making me choose?

I have no idea who your Zwei face claim is so I took a massive stab at it (featuring a cameo from an old muse because I think I’m funny)

[thememcry]

      ↳ @kalmaccountant​, “ [05] *crawls back to bed* ” //  sfw displays of affection.

      gaia, she needed this.

      aerith pushed herself up onto her toes, wrapped her arms around the turk’s shoulders and offered as much of a squeeze as someone her size and stature could give. the returned gesture was more than welcome ------for even just a moment aerith felt safe in the shield of the man. her nose buried itself into the shoulder of his jacket, eyes peering over the curve of it to stare into the distance beyond them. through the distance.

      when she spoke her voice was muffled, small even for that, “ i just want to go to sleep for a week or two. that solves problems, right? ” imagine, seeking the comfort in the hug of an enemy? supposed enemy, at least. most who viewed the turks would assume they were an antagonistic relationship to the cetra but she still claimed they had good in them. even the newest addition to her watch crew. even if he had insulted her church the first time.

      he was here now, offering wordless comfort. perhaps aerith could ask him to crush her into himself and protect her that way? but no ------she’d allow herself only this momentary weakness. and it’d stay between them.

[hautevaux]

@kalmaccountant​  ||  STARTER.

The afternoon often bought with it a false sense of security when it came to being busy - appointments were less likely in the afternoon, and it often provided the time himself and his seamstresses needed to catch up on orders. That afternoon, however, the tailor found himself with three afternoon appointments, and the last of which was due within moments. 

With champagne on ice and glasses nearby, Vaux took but only a moment to scan the store to be certain all was in its place, tidy and welcoming; and then took note of a few documents upon the receptionists desk. Only when the dainty bell above the door chimed did the male turn his gaze over his shoulder, offering a bright smile; 

“I do wonder who you may be---” He teased, turning his form around in order to approach, the gentle clink of heeled boots upon the floor narrating his movement; long fingers adjusting hair over a single shoulder. 

[firstinline]

tag drop.

[architectofhope]

Stonework Headcanons Meme | status: open

@kalmaccountant asked:

“Amazonite Comfort: What sorts of things bring your muse comfort in trying times? Are there any habits they have when things get difficult to help cope?”

“Topaz Tears: Do they have any sort of outlet they use as a means to cope (e.g. writing, drawing, playing music, etc.)? How’d they get into it if they do?”

“Opal Wander: How big is their imagination? Do they tend to share these ideas or keep them to themselves?”

Headcanon - Comfort and Habits

On difficult days Reeve tends to enjoy calming practices — a long hot shower, a cup of tea, perhaps a book. If he is particularly frustrated he will exercise to blow off steam. Usually running or pull-ups, things that are easy to do around the house without a lot of equipment or need for a gym.

Headcanon - Coping Outlets

This is similar to the previous headcanon, but I will also add tinkering here. Working with his hands can be a form of meditation, a puzzle of sorts that works out the brain and keeps his thought processes limber in times when he might be subject to spiraling into anxious or destructive thinking.

He first started tinkering as a boy where he would invent contraptions and robots to make his and his parents farm work easier. Once his family realized his talent and potential was not a fleeting childhood interest they attempted to pool together funding to send him to university for robotics engineering. Unfortunately their funding was not quite enough, but with a slight shift in focus Reeve was able to secure a scholarship to architectural engineering instead; his love for robotics persisted as a hobby, supported by extracurricular studies and projects.

Headcanon - Imagination

​ Reeve’s imagination is vast and varied as is required by both his profession and hobby. He is often called upon to think both inside and outside the box, and doesn’t hesitate to share his thoughts if they benefit those around him. However there are certainly some creative endeavors he keeps to himself, such as the innovations behind his brainchild Cait Sith; the sophistication and technical advances behind the AI are significant enough to have unknown impact on the world around him and he has no interest in contributing to yet another advancement that could potentially break society as the world knew it.

[chainedbydarkness]

What Shape Does Your Pain Take ?

Tagged By: Stolen From: @kalmaccountant​

Tagging: Errybody. Steals it. Tag me. Dew it.

Sea

     You're drowning. A sea of emotions, responsibilities, people, things, everything. You just can't handle it all, you need to escape, but you can't. Even talking to someone and being told it's okay, compliments, nice things people say, it all adds up to drown you further. Guilt, for feeling this way when everyone's being nice and you're not enough.

     Will you sink or swim?