#like. genuinely for half an hour this ain’t bad eh?

[redhotarsenic]

Yay my new friend hobie <33

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers as Roommates

Intro:

So, the MC has left the Devildom and, of course, everybody is quite sad… But this time around, they have a little trick up their sleeve. With just a bit of magic (and training thanks to Solomon) the MC can now summon one of their favorite demon boys up to the human world with them! There's just, uh, one problem though… After being summoned to their side, their beloved demon now refuses to leave it.

Alright MC, enjoy your new demonic roommate!!

Lucifer

Apparently Lucifer is on sabbatical… And yes, he does appreciate that irony in that.

Lucifer actually has a surprising amount of human world money stashed away in alias accounts (because this man renting a cheap motel on business trips? Let's be real) so he uses that wealth to get them a place befitting his standards… which are high.

Spacious apartments in nice areas that would make even the upper middle-class shit their pants? Congrats, MC, that's where you're staying now!

Even with all that money, though, Lucifer CANNOT sit idle for a second. The guy is used to working all his life and just sitting around would drive him insane!

Expect him to still be running some Devildom affairs long-distance style while doing something else on the side, probably stock market stuff tbh.

Is going to want to pay for and provide everything himself but will respect the MC if they still want to work and split the bills (not to a ridiculous degree, though, like half-and-half because that would mean getting three jobs at least).

A lot of trips and vacations too, especially if the MC likes to travel. It’s a good excuse to relax while also technically doing something so he doesn’t lose his mind doing nothing in particular.

He is going to be that strict roommate who expects you not to be a slob and isn't afraid to say so. Regularly scheduled cleaning/organization days are mandatory because hygiene is important. Take some pride in yourself and wash up, MC. That kind of thing.

Also going to have short-fuse for… antics. If you want to prank him, do so at your own risk because he may prank back (and that’s not nearly as fun as it sounds, trust me.)

Mammon

Yeah so, living with Mammon is like the inverse of Lucifer. Prepare to be poooor.

Man has no human money, are you kidding me? Even if he did, he wouldn’t keep it for very long. Couples budgeting is a MUST if you’re looking to survive.

The apartment is going to be whatever the MC can more or less afford on their own with Mammon shoved in somewhere like a cheap lamp… Don’t expect a lot of room.

However, Mammon is great at the hustle. Man can work multiple jobs and actually be pretty dang good at them. For the most part, anyway. He may occasionally trip up and get himself fired, but he bounces back quick.

If the MC isn’t so moral he can also uh… “find” some extra money lying around too. Just be careful when playing with fire, right?

Even if they’re poor as shit, Mammon is still a blast to be around. The guy knows how to have fun on and off of a budget. Lots of “window shopping” (getting kicked out of stores for goofing off), nightclubs, amusement parks, and cheap fun. They’ll never be without a story to tell or a smile on their face!

He IS pretty slobbish though. He’s not going to remember to clean up after himself unless told, but he’s also not going to be bothered if they don’t do the same thing. A weekly cleaning day is going to be ideal unless they don’t mind living in a pigsty...

Prank waaaaars!! The kind of guy to get them both water guns and have a war in the middle of the apartment complex. Good luck getting any rest with Mammon around.

Leviathan 

Whelp, your room is now his room, quite literally MC. You had to pick the shut-in…

The guy isn’t exactly poor but what human money he does have is all wrapped up in his many interests… Merch interests specifically. 

Thankfully, he won’t take up too much space. Put him in a room with a desk, bed (or bathtub), TV, and computer and he’s good to go! 

He’s not going to be a complete bum, thankfully. There’s no way that they can get him to leave the apartment, but he can run small online stores (usually anime themed) or become a streamer. Probably enough to help pay the bills, but not much more.

If they don’t mind having a literally permanent housemate, then being with Levi has its own kind fun. Lots of anime marathons, movie nights, and game nights. Really, it’s just like how he was in the House, but now transported to the human world.

Is probably going to want a pet goldfish, snake ,or lizard so prepare to house Henry 3.0.

When he does leave the apartment, it’s to take the MC to conventions, concerts, or anime stores. He always manages to get just enough money for these trips, but never says where the money comes from… Best not to ask. Could be black market for they know...

… He’s a shut-in. He’s a shut-in roommate. Hygiene isn’t exactly his main concern. If they ask him to, he’ll make sure to clean up after himself, but he may need a reminder.

Can have a fun side, but just don’t mess with his stuff too much. He doesn’t need a Mammon 2.0 around too...

Satan

He's either hatching a plan for world domination or adopting 10 cats… One or the other.

About as poor as Mammon at first, but threat not. He won’t be for very long. Satan is intelligent beyond his years (or equivalent his years maybe?) so he’ll probably net himself several degrees within a couple semesters like a certified prodigy.

At that point, there really isn’t much to worry about (aside from student loans, join our pain Satan) but he can sell himself just fine and probably get some high paying job like a lawyer or doctor or whatever… I’m not jealous…

They’ll start out in a pretty modest place, but there will be upgrades fairly quickly when he starts racking it in so Satan’s a fairly decent choice as a roommate.

He does still have that nasty habit of breaking things when he’s pissed off, but that can be subverted by getting a pet! Just hold up whatever cat you own when he’s about to rampage then declare that he’s scaring/upsetting them and he’ll stop in his tracks. Works every time!

Probably going to be the most domestic out of the brothers. He enjoys cooking (and ain’t half bad at it either), shopping is a practical necessity, he’ll take care your pets like they were his own flesh and blood, etc.

There will even to be points where he’s in bed reading in the middle of the night with tea and reading glasses like some kind of grandma so take that image for what you will.

Satan is the prankster of the household, but he does his pranks more as a way to give grief to his enemies rather than for funsies. Be warned, if you poke this bear he will retaliate for sweet, sweet revenge and he has centuries worth of pranks behind him. Good luck.

Asmodeus 

It's a new party every night, sweetie, get used to it!

Asmo is the only other brother who has some amount of money to offer from his own trips to the human world, but it's just a modest amount.

Is totally willing to work to help pay for a nice place. He wants a building nice enough to host parties!

Would go back to modeling and maybe dip his toe into acting from time to time… He gets a lot of gigs (this IS the Avatar of Lust after all) so they won't be strapped for cash. Which is good, because Asmo is a very "business by day, but party every night" kind of person. 

Do know that his shopping is NOT going to slow down either. Keep an eye on the budget.

He’s also going to make friends wherever he goes so he’s going to want for them all to hang out at least somewhat regularly.

That being said, he can tone it down some if the MC so desires, just know that they can’t keep him cooped up in the apartment for too long or he’ll start getting antsy. You can’t keep this stallion locked up, MC, he needs to run free!!

Being with Asmo is going to be like having a free pass to whatever gathering the MC wants to go to, at least. He could even get them into red carpet events with just his sheer charisma, charm, and er-… “charms.” Who doesn’t want to meet their favorite actress or singer, eh?

But oh, sweetie, please don’t prank him! Life is too short to waste on silly games (he also just genuinely just doesn’t enjoy being messed with so best not do it).

Beelzebub 

Brave choice, MC, but quick question. How in the world are you going to pay your food bills???

Beel is a real sweetheart through and through but his stomach is NOT. That thing will eat them out of house and home! (Maybe even literally!!) Both of them are going to have to work and probably some pretty looong hours (cause he’s got no money either).

Honestly, Beel would be best as a personal trainer in the human world. He’s a pretty decent combination of tough but genuinely kind and motivating. (The fact that he’s pretty easy on the eyes would help out a lot too).

But the MC won’t have to worry about Beel sneaking off with someone just looking for some “quality time.” He’d take his job seriously, though he’s not particularly versed in what the human body can’t handle so only the really dedicated (or masochistic) would stick with him anyway.

“Good work last week, April! You did so well that we’re going to go from 500 pushups to a thousand! … I can see you’re worried, but I believe in you.”

But hey, he can deadlift well over 2,000 pounds without breaking a sweat so who has the balls to argue with him, anyway?

Trying out every restaurant in town would be a must. He’d even plan out vacations for them with the sole purpose of travelling the globe and tasting the different flavors. Food trips!!

He's neat enough since he used to tidy up a lot for Belphie so no need to worry about him picking up after himself (except for the occasional pile of wrappers. Toss those out unless you want ants)

I mean, you can prank Beel if you want. He'll be pretty good-natured about it as long as it stays harmless. Just don't ruin any of his food, got it?

Belphegor 

So… Belphie makes for some excellent décor! Really he is great at laying around and looking fantastic just… he’s not that great at much else...

Realistically, choosing Belphie as a roommate is kind like having a high maintenance pet. He’s good for love and cuddles, but he’s not going to be helping with the bills or anything unless they whine incessantly about it.

If the MC can make enough for the both of them, then it should be fine. They won’t get upset and he won’t be crabby but if not… Oh boy.

Regular job Belphie is a needy Belphie. He’ll come back from whatever job he’s working, likely a night shift, and demand attention or cuddles right then and there. He needs to recharge those batteries, after all...

If he isn’t working then he's at his happiest. He can even pull off being a “househusband” of sorts. He’s not going to go above and beyond the call of duty, but he can keep the place clean, get a basic meal on the table (provided someone teaches him some human recipes), and get groceries if he needs to… You know, basic domestic shit.

They’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that, at some level, Belphie just doesn’t believe in “common curtesy” or “human decency.” If some neighbors are being too noisy for his liking, he will troll them to oblivion and beyond. He may even get sued for it if he takes it too far, so the MC will have to keep an eye on him…

He’s the House’s #2 prankster, but unlike Satan he doesn’t need any malice to be a little shit. The MC will be pranked and it will be at the most unexpected times. Be warned...

Check out my Masterlist for more!

[anika-ann]

A Cup of Truth (S.R)

Type: One-shot, a bit of coffee shop AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader    Word Count: 3000

Summary: Your favourite pretty blond comes in every day to get a cup of good ol’ joe. You flirt on occasion; mostly you, because your suit of armour – which people boringly call an apron – and his smiles give you confidence.

When the band of dumb goons picks your damn workplace to attack, your confidence flies out of the window. Well. Good thing that the resident Avenger heroes save the day including the one in his all-American star-spangled glory.

Prompt: “You can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere.” (Bold in the text)

Warnings: hostage situation, violence, non-consensual drug use/injected, hospitals, slightly crack-ish humour (?) and some fluff

A/N: For marvelcapsicle’s challenge. Thank you for letting me participate, darling, may you gain more and more sweet followers in the future ♥

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Here’s a thing: Steve Rogers had a lot of fight in him. Before or after injected with the serum, no matter his shirt size, no matter if he could swing his fists effectively or not, he would punch bullies in their face.

When it came to people close to his heart, that rule amplified tenfold. No one touched the people he cared for. And while he would not necessarily call all of them friends, he would go rabid should any harm come their way.

To be fair, the list of ‘his people’ who were still alive wasn’t long; he could almost count them on the fingers of one hand. Tony. Natasha. Clint. Thor. Bruce. Probably Fury. Really, his circle was a bit monotonous, people who could protect themselves just fine at most times, but simultaneously with high-risk job of being the first defence line for the world’s greatest threats.

And then there was you.

You, with your inviting smile whenever he appeared at your counter at the café he had discovered during his endless walks.

You, handing him a drink different to his usual ‘boring’ cup of joe once a week, because that was the deal you had offered and Steve, caught in his curiosity about today’s world and your adorable challenging expression, agreed.

You, with your pretty eyes, irises twinkling at his attempts at flirting, no matter how awkward and out-of-time they sounded, graciously returning the favour… if he was reading the situation right.

You, always grinning wide when discovering a doodle he had left on his napkin, taking it with you back to the counter.

You, blissfully unaware of his double life, genuine in your demeanour, dealing with plain old Steve Rogers, and perfectly safe; at least as safe as one could be on Manhattan.

You in a headlock, as five rogue SHIELD agents decided to crash into the café you worked at of all the damn places, choosing it with deadly precision and nearly driving the poor Captain America into a cardiac arrest.

Not that you had any idea your life mattered to the proclaimed Star-Spangled Man more than anyone else’s. You were the exception to the rule; you were the precious outsider Steve caught feelings for, the one that was not supposed to learn about his other persona for at least a while longer and sure as hell was not supposed to get herself in a mess like this one.

Steve stood frozen as Natasha had two men at gunpoint, Clint fighting another, the last one having been already knocked down by Steve himself. The only injured people were the few customers, scarce at the hour, and the employees; some bruises and insignificant bleeding wounds between all of them.

The worst problem still remained; Perez had his arm around your neck, visibly squeezing your windpipe at least partly if the colour of your face – one stained in tears and Steve could kill at the moment, kill with no remorse – was anything to go by.

He gripped his shield tighter, staring the man down with his jaw clenched and his heart beating its way out of his chest, the syringe at your carotid scaring him more than the reduced airflow to your lungs.

“It’s over, Perez! Let her- let the woman go,” Steve howled, knees slightly bend in posture allowing him to spring forward at any second, to throw his weapon, to punch the living daylight of the bastard that not only betrayed SHIELD, but put his hands on you.

Big, big mistake. He really shouldn’t have done that.

“I like her exactly where she is, Cap,” Perez snarled, a wicked smile on his bloody lips, only his eyes giving away a fraction of his fear. “Move and she gets a ticket straight to hell.”

Perez was outnumbered and he knew it; even if he managed to escape, they would find him easily with Tony Stark’s system of surveillance. Yet, he tightened his grip and with you involuntarily acting like a human shield for him, he started backing away, gaze flickering between the three present Avengers.

Natasha’s right arm twitched as if she wanted to shoot him on spot – but she didn’t want to risk leaving the other two without the threat of immediate death for even a second.

And then several things happened at once; Clint knocked his opponent down with the construction of his bow; Perez who saw it lost his nerve and swiftly slammed the needle into your neck, piercing your skin easily, as easily as Steve’s panicked shout ripped from his throat.

The next second, an arrow was sticking from Perez’ shoulder as he jerked back with a cry of pain and Clint put another arrow through his hand, adding one to his thigh for a good measure. Two gunshots sounded in the background, Natasha’s aim as unmistakable as ever.

Perez fell to the ground with a scream, not even reaching for the gun in his holster before Steve was there to knock him out with a brutal hit straight to his face with his vibranium shield. The crack sounding at the impact was like music to Steve’s ears, the blood spurting from Perez’ nose a pleasant visual.

Yet, it didn’t feel half as satisfactory as Steve hoped as you had stumbled and toppled over your own feet. He barely managed to slow down your fall, gloved palm shooting up under the spot between your shoulder blades, his other hand holding your shoulder. He supported your enfeebled weight as you practically lied over the unconscious man.

Steve didn’t bother paying attention to his surroundings, knowing that the noise around him was Romanoff and Barton apprehending the remaining thugs. Instead, his gaze scanned you head to toe, focusing on your face and neck when he couldn’t find any other injury.

You were pale, eyes misted, unfocused, skin worryingly cold to his touch.

“Hey-- hey! Can you hear me?” Steve demanded urgently, lightly patting your cheek.

At that, your pupils zeroed on him, wide with disbelief, and to his immense shock, a lazy smile spread on your lips.

“Steve?” you breathed out his name and blood crystalized in his veins, his heart, already panicking, speeding up. How did you know his name? Perhaps the drug, the whatever liquid in the syringe was taking effect and you were turning delirious? Shit, they needed a doctor-- “You’re the pretty blond. Steve. My flirty Steve… my hero. Everyone’s hero.”

Steve’s horror escalated with each word. Good news: you were still breathing and apparently quite lucid, even if your speech was more of a mumble. Bad news: his secret identity just blew up.

Luckily, he considered the good news much more important; and lucid he would like to keep you, so he shot Natasha and Clint a meaningful glare, wordlessly asking them to call help. He wasn’t sure whether it registered because both of the spies were staring at him wide-eyed as the woman in his arms just outed him like the café’s regular… one that flirted with her, no less.

Steve cleared his throat, focusing on his mission – to keep you talking. There was no much point in denying it, was it?

“Eh... yeah, it’s me. How-how did you know? I wear a mask-“

“Muscly… real muscly… and that ass,” you muttered and Steve nearly choked on his spit, certain that he just turned red all over, including the area you pointed out.

Wait, did that mean that you had been checking him out?

So not important right now.

“Oh, uhm- how are you feeling? We have to-“

“You can’t mask that ass. I’d know it anywhere,” you continued babbling as if you hadn’t heard him and Steve gulped, feeling his teammates, who still hadn’t called a doctor, what the actual hell- watching you with interest. ”…could bounce a penny off it… no, that ain’t right, a quarter off of it, that’s it… Dream of it sometimes… biting-“

Clint coughed loudly to cover his laughter, finally springing into action after that uncomfortable remark that gave Steve quite a visual he wasn’t sure how he felt about just yet.

“Alright, as amusing as this is, we should get her some medical attention…”

Steve only took his eyes off of you for a moment, shooting Barton a look that screamed ‘You think?!’

“I want to touch it… please lemme touch it—just once,” you pleaded quietly, swaying even in your practically horizontal position, straining your neck to catch a glimpse of the object of your interest. “The best I’ve even seen-“

“I think it’s ethanol she got injected with…” Natasha announced, sniffing the syringe with disgust in her voice. “High concentration.”

And Steve felt like he just got hit by Thor’s hammer… in his head. Seriously?

“…alcohol?” he asked, dumbstruck and utterly relieved, the heavy weight in his stomach lifting a bit. “You think she’s merely… drunk?”

“Well, alcohol straight to the bloodstream is seriously nasty on its own, S-“

“Alcohol nasty, yesss. And this really hurts,” your voice interrupted Natasha and Steve’s heart clenched uncomfortably when the surprised grimace appeared on your face, your eyes indeed clouding in pain, looking up at him, doe-eyed, so vulnerable and trusting.

“Hey, no sad Steeb! Your eyes pretty too. Little pictures you draw… so suuuper cute. I like your hair. You came in the day, wind blew, so messy-- like bed hair, wanna try top that-- I betcha I can do better-“

“Sounds drunk enough to you?” Natasha hummed casually and Steve didn’t even have to look at her to know she was smirking, while he was both fretting over your state and blushing to the roots of his hair because of your blunt compliments and unfiltered fantasies.

You turned your head slowly to Nat as she spoke, a crooked grin curling up your lips. “Hey, you’re pretty too-“

Much to Steve’s annoyance, the Russian spy had the audacity to chuckle and wink at you.

“Why thank you-“

“But prefer blonds,” you babbled again, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “He’s real nice. His biceps are like… huge. Bigger than my head-- ow, my head… spi-spinning- I think-? Whoa— oh… “

Steve called out your name in panic as you went limp in his arms, your body pliant, folding like a house of cards.

“I like her,” Clint noted as he jogged to Steve’s side, kneeling to take your pulse on the unharmed carotid with a furrow to his brows. “The medics are on their way, she’ll hold on until then.”

Steve sighed in relief when Clint nodded in affirmation again, feeling your heart still beating.

Steve’s grip on your tightened, hand sliding behind your head to cradle it gently rather than letting it dangle in such unnatural angle. He manoeuvred it so your cheek rested against his chest, his newly free hand sneaking under your knees so he could lift you with ease as he stood up.

“Nice, Rogers. Keep going like this, squads with weights, and you’ll keep that exceptional ass of yours in shape,” Natasha teased him, but when he turned to glare at her, she gave him a soft smile and beckoned towards your nearly motionless body. “She’ll be okay. Let’s go get her some help.”

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Your head was pounding. The right side of your neck was itchy as hell and felt extremely stiff. The beeping sounding in your ears was a thing from nightmares, echoing in your aching skull.

You felt like shit and honestly, you could cry when you tried to open your eyes and the sharp light hit them, making you swiftly close them again.

A realization slowly crept at you that there was a presence of an intrusive smell too, making you want to puke— or was that just the brutal hangover? Because you felt unbelievably hungover on top of everything. The world seemed to be spinning even behind your closed eyelids and you couldn’t but groan, deciding to only curse the universe mentally since your throat resembled a Sahara Desert.

“Oh, hey gorgeous,” a female voice greeted you from your left and you snapped your eyes open with a startle, staring with shock at the beautiful redhead sitting by your bedside.

For few long seconds, you wondered if you died and went to heaven, because there was a non-descript angelic-like creature watching over you.  You quickly brushed that thought aside, because there was no way Heaven looked like a hospital room and provided you with such shitty sensations attacking your poor body.

So you asked the only logical question, ignoring the dryness of your mouth which soon cause you to cough.

“…who are you?”

A plastic cup with a heavenly cold liquid landed in front of you, the straw sticking from it directed to your lips as the stunning woman frowned discontentedly.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” she asked, seemingly hurt. “My heart is breaking! You told me I was pretty.”

You blinked slowly, finally adjusting to the light, finally able to talk without pain (that much pain, that was) and your head started pounding some more, embarrassment filling every fibre of your being.

What the- oh god, you had really got drunk, hadn’t you, and now you had a total blackout on what you had been up to in your questionable state.

“Eeeer… I did? I mean, you are… but-“

“But you prefer blonds, yeah, I know,” the mysterious woman finished your sentence to her liking and your eyes went wide. How did she- and who was she again, sitting in your hospital room like that? Had you really got so smashed that you didn’t remember her when you should have? When had you met? Shit, your mind was so foggy… “And you think Steve’s a bit prettier. And his ass is the best you’ve ever seen, so I get it…”

“The hell?!” you squealed in utter horror, sitting up straight as the words registered, a flash of blue, red and white flickering in the back of your mind, followed by a sharp stung in your temples. A nauseatingly strong pain resembling an intense cramp – only like ten times worse – shot up your neck as you moved so quickly, ripping a startled yelp from your throat.

A hazy image of the café you worked at blended into a picture Steve’s beautiful eyes – did this woman know your regular, your handsome flirty blond regular? –, sensation of gentle hands cradling your jaw, a sting in your neck—

“You need to be careful with how much you move. Your neck took quite a hit, they had to perform a surgery on you, you got a transfusion. They worried about your brain too. They’ve been monitoring you for four days now and this is the first time you’re awake,” your stranger explained patiently, voice full of compassion.

Your hand involuntarily rose to massage the incriminated place, still unsure of what the woman was talking about, the images in your brain confusing the hell out of you. You still had no idea who she was, but her face was starting to feel a bit familiar – you assumed that whatever had happened, she had been there too, possibly helping you.

And there was something in her green eyes, cautious yet somewhat calming, making it easy to trust her for some inexplicable reason.

“Steve’s gonna be pissed at me for missing it,” she added and grinned. “I made him leave to take care of himself before he could actually start taking roots in here. He’s been worried too. A lot.”

The amount of question marks in your head just doubled, but at the same time, your heart fluttered. Steve had visited you? Often, apparently? That was really, really sweet of him. The thought of him guarding you – and didn’t he have a physique of a bodyguard, once mentioning he was in private security when asked –, brought a dreamy smile to your face.

Perhaps it wasn’t only about flirting for him either…?

“Keep looking so lovestruck and I might forgive him that he hasn’t mention you before. Though I guess I can’t blame him, wanting to keep�� anyway. I’m Natasha. Nice to meet you,” she extended her hand towards you at last and you automatically accepted it, telling her your name in return.

Even though that was probably beside the point seeing as she had been found at your bedside in a hospital.

“Hi, Natasha. Nice to meet you too… I think.”

The redhead burst out into a quiet laughter at your hesitance. “Fair enough. After Steve comes back and explains what exactly happened – because it’s not quite my place to tell you –, call me back for the good details. It’s fun to make him blush.”

Despite just only having met this woman, you decided that you kinda liked her and nodded in acceptance of her offer. Steve might be sweet – perhaps even sweet on you it seemed – but some harmless teasing could never hurt. Not when it apparently had something to do with his glorious ass.

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Here’s a thing: Steve Rogers had a lot of fight in him. Before injected with the serum or after, no matter his shirt size, no matter if he could swing his fists effectively or not, he would fight for what mattered.

His teammates and friends certainly fell into the category. The somewhat relationship he had been trying to build with you was right there with them, definitely worth fighting for.

So, after revealing his identity – an action which become inevitable at that point, really – he had a delicate confession to make and a bold question to ask in an almost shy voice. He still asked it, because he would be damned if he gave up on you.

You said yes, your confession about certain harboured feelings matching his.

You said yes, you would like to go out with him very much, because you liked him too.

And no, it wasn’t just because he owned the best backside you had ever seen. Steve Rogers was, according to you, quite memorable and worth fighting for in general too.

(Steve, over time, might have developed a bit of a love-hate relationship with the fact you were getting along with Natasha so well. It was good news and bad news at the same time, seeing as it often resulted in the two of you teaming up against him. Once again, the good news won him over… because he simply loved how easily you fit into his world and how surprisingly well he fit into yours.)

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S.R. masterlist

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Thank you for reading :-*

It’s once a again a bit different from my usual writing; it’s short (like wtf me? short?) and it’s with a quote that is hard to do justice to... so I hope you liked it at leats a bit. Feedback always appreciated :-*

[sapphire-strikes]

Could you do Kamal and FK just like spending the day with each other?

• It's not too often you and Kamal spend time alone together. Boris is always just kind of there. Kamal isn't usually one to initiate hang outs and often just goes with the flow of whatever you and Boris were planning on doing.

• Some days though Kamal's day off aligns with the days Boris is working at his shop or has plans of his own. But if you happen to stop by on these days he's not going to turn you away.

• "Sorry, kid, Boris ain't here today. Somthing about a 'flower emergency' over at the Varnias. Feel free to kick your feet up 'til he gets back"

• After that, he'll leave you to do your own thing while he does his. He's not ignoring you he just finds your presence comfortable enough to go on doing his own thing while you're there.

• Once he's finished whatever he was working on he'll stroll over and plop down beside you on the couch. "Welp, looks like Boris is gonna be out longer than I thought, so...you wanna do somthing?"

• Getting to spend alone time with Kamal is oddly refreshing. He's always been pretty open around you but a lot of time he's overshadowed by Boris. In Kamal's eyes that's a good thing. He prefers to let other people take the reigns in a friendship, offering his support or encouragement from the sidelines, but spending some one on one time with you is a nice change of pace.

• If you're usually the type to listen and not talk then tonight's going to be pretty backwards for you because so is Kamal. The only difference is he's going to actively be asking you about how things are going with you. He's pretty good at carrying the conversation on his own, asking you how work/schools going, what you're into lately or prodding you about whatever it is you're currently occupying yourself with.

• He's a big fan of board games and puzzles so that's usually his go-to time waster. If you don't have any idea what you want to do he'll invite you to come join him in one. It's pretty endearing how excited he gets when he's about to win. He finds so much genuine enjoyment in just being able to relax with someone like this. Definatly the type to shake the dice with both hands and blow on them for luck. "C'mon, baby, give me a that lucky number 7!"

• You want to play video games? The only video games he's ever really played are Just Dance and Wii Sports so he's pretty bad, but Ironic trash talk is his specialty.

• If the subject comes up, you might be able to convice him to bring out his cello. Kamal is pretty confident playing in front of his friends but there's a clear blush on his face if you decided to make a show and applaud him.

• A couple hours in he'll propose heading out for food, no reason to stick around here all day and he doesn't really feel like cooking tonight anyways. You could even bring something home for Boris when he gets back.

• The ride to Jimothen's and back was probably one of the best parts because Kamal puts in his mixtape and a little known fact about him; he likes to sing in the car. It's half ironic, half him letting loose and having a good time.

• "🎶Here I go!~ Here I go!~ Here I go again! Girls, what's my weakness?🎶"

*Both of you in unison* "MEN!"

• By the time you get home you're both laughing your heads off and Boris's car is back in the driveway. If the muddy footprints leading into the front door are any indication, then he's finally home.

• Unfortunately those same footprints also lead through the livingroom, after a clear stop at the doormat in a failed attempt to wipe themselves clean, then into the kitchen where Boris was hunched over the sink working on scrubbing off the fresh dirt that covered his forearms.

"Welcome home, Kamal! Ooh and heelloo, Y/n!" He stepped away from the sink, briefly drying off his hand before looking nervously down at the dirt that still coated his overalls from the waist down then past the two of you in a trail that led from his car to the kitchen sink. "Eh...sorry about the mess".

Kamal's eye twitched for a moment but it seemed like he gave up half way through his freakout and his carefree attitude from earlier soon returned. "Don't worry about it...just...make sure you clean up okay?" You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh and without missing a beat Kamal elbowed you in the side, not breaking his smile or eye contact with Boris. He did give you a snarky side glance when you let out a quiet "ow.."

"Of course!", Boris answered quickly. "Oh and Trencil sent over some 'joffre cake' as thanks for the help!" He struggled to pronounce the name but continued with a smile, stopping to spin around for a moment as if looking for something, "Oh yes! It is in my car! Kamal, could you go get it, please?"

"You got it, bud", Kamal caught Boris's keys as they were throw his way. Taking the time to ruffle your hair before he jogged out the door, "Could you help, Boris clean up some, kiddo? I'll set the table and we can all try some after dinner." You nodded, leading Boris out the back door to brush him off some before he ruined any more of Kamal's carpet.

• Kamal's demeanor had changed quite a bit since his time at the Habitat. He's still anxious, a bit bumbling and tends to stress out about the little things but he's become a lot more confident in himself.

• The guilt he felt about sending you in alone back at the Habitat, having Boris stay with him and working alongside you to help Boris settle in really snapped him out of his funk. He was put in a position where he had to be the adult and that frame of mind quickly stuck with him when he realised how much he enjoyed being there for others. Being someone people can count on. He just hopes that one day, now that he's able, you'll allow him to be there like that for you when you need it.

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Unstable (A Fe Sides Fic)

Word Count: 2171

TW: It’s another vent fic babyyy swearing, yelling, insults, threats (sort of), an excess of anxiety, there’s an intrusive thought from one of them about jumping off of a building but its one line that she gets scolded for. I think that’s it but if there’s more let me know!

Notes: I had a really rough week last week and now that I’m done with school I have time to write fun things again and I needed a vent. It also is part of rebuilding my personal mind palace! I plan on making more with these guys, they are really easy to write honestly, it was like an out of body experience.

Pairings: Lol nope, not even a little bit no.

Summary: The mind palace was usually quiet. The facets did not all get along, and everyone is high strung during Quaranfinals. Someone needs to step in and get this train moving again.

The mind palace was usually rather quiet. All facets left each other alone for the most part, hoping to stay functional and avoid unnecessary fusions but the last few weeks had been out of the norm. Inge was high strung as ever and was snapping at the smallest inconveniences and that wasn’t even addressing the others.

“Listen here you unstable mother fucker! We don't have time for your whiny depressed bullshit right now! She has two huge finals and your fucking cahoots with Barbie is the opposite of helpful! She needs to WORK and you guys are actively working against that! Don't either of you care about her future?!”

“How about you shut your trap for 5 seconds and drop your high and mighty act? The only reason me and Izzy have been working against you is because you have been failing at your job ever since this quarantine started. If you actually did your fucking job maybe me and Iz wouldn’t be falling down a hole ourselves. For someone who needs to have so much control all the time it's surprising how little you’re ever able to keep. You act like you're the ringleader around here when it's obviously Izzy and Lia. I may not like Lia but at least she can work with me. You on the other hand-”

Lia and Isadora were nervous. They were onlookers in the argument and couldn't get a word in edgewise to stop them. Izzy was trying to hide in her Roman Sanders sweater and Lia was hidden in her hoodie that was too big on her, biting her thumb as her eyes darted everywhere but the fight. In the real world Fe was closing her laptop with a sigh, desperate to go and take a nap. She looked quickly to Izzy with all she had to say, communicated in the glance. Suddenly the palace shook and Inge snapped her head at Lia who was very interested at her chewed up Crocs and not the anger filled gazes directed at her.

“LIA WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“She's too stressed. If you keep at this you're gonna wake up T and that wont help you in getting her to do her work. If T gets up right now she's gonna fail and we all know it. Let Izzy calm her down for a bit. See, she's only taking a half an hour long nap, like her dad told her to. We all just need to chill for a bit.”

Lia was scratching at her face and Inge finally let the anger and annoyance leave her. She gently swatted at Lia’s hand, placing a quickly conjured sheet of bubble wrap in it. Lia smiled at the floor, still not meeting her eyes, vaguely worried at the signs of T waking up, hoping beyond hope that she was just still channeling the hyperactivity that Fe was plagued with. Izzy was meanwhile glassy eyed, placing herself on the floor blindly, waving her hands about in a way that all three recognized as her weaving a dream. It was wonderful to watch, extremely relaxing to see her go off on an adventure of her own design. It was almost meditative to watch her methodical movements, the simple twists of her wrists as she moved the story along. Lia busied herself with popping the bubbles, as Carli and Inge both left to busy themselves in their own wings of the palace. Lia sat across from Isadora, glancing up at her every once in a while. She muttered quietly to herself and maybe Izzy as well.

“She's waking up. I don't know what we’re gonna do, we really gotta get Fe through this last week, but Isa will stop us, I know she will, but how are we supposed to still get things done”

“We’ll figure it out”

Lia’s head snapped up at Izzy whose eyes were still unseeing as she spoke.

“Talisa works with us. We just need to convince her to use her strengths to support us in this. I know she can. Besides, dreams are so much more fun with her around. Who knows, maybe daydream mode will help her write her essay”

Lia smiled softly as she felt comfortable enough to look Izzy in the eyes that couldn't see her. She nodded and went back to her bubble wrap, far more content with the slow draining of anxiety from her body. At least until the palace shook again.

“AAAAAH!!! Well what a wonderful time to be alive eh? Heh, that's a joke, gods, she's asleep and she's still exuding panic like no one's business!”

Out of a darkened corridor walks Talisa in all her glory and self deprecation. There was yet another shake as Fe awoke. Isadora’s eyes cleared in an instant as she rose to her feet.

“Oh boy, Pops woke her up? Ooooh that's not great. I'm sure she's gonna be off all day huh Iz? Oh that's just fuel for this, gosh what have I missed?”

“Quarantine you lucky bitch”

Izzy walks to her with a cocky grin and does a simple handshake with the crazy eyed side. Talisa’s eyes glance around the room. She grins wider, scratching at her scalp.

“All this panic and mania and I wasn't invited? I feel like I should be insulted!”

Lia rose as well, abandoning the bubble wrap as the need to stim left her, and walked over. She smiled small and avoided her face.

“She's got homework. Its, it's all homework now, everything's homework. I haven't been helpful much, but I knew you would probably make it all harder for her, I've been enough of a hindrance for her, I imagined she probably wouldn't do well being overly mentally compromised AND lazy as all get out”

“Oh Lia! I'm wounded! I'm not all bad! Plus-”

There was a sudden shift of the palace again as Fe sat down and started furiously writing her essay, anxiety as her fuel, aided by a giant cup of soda from the gas station.

“A little blood pumping’s good for the brain, ain't it? She just needs a little push! Maybe off of a building eh? Sounds like a ball!”

“Yo, you've been up for less than 5 minutes, stop with that shit, give her a week maybe? So we can properly talk her down?”

“Oh fine, I guess my premium service can wait to activate!”

Her hands moved from her scalp to her arms, scratching without conviction. Isadora softly took her hand off, stopping the scratching and handing her a fidget cube to replace the destructive stim.

“Ohhhh! This is neato mojito Dora!!! Where'd you think this un up? It's pretty! It's my colors too! Ain't that sweeter than molasses! Why I've been so rude, how've you been doing Dora? And you Lia?”

The two smiled. They genuinely liked her, she was nice to be around, while she had her problems, she didn't get mean and angry like Inge and Carli do. She was just… manic. A little odd, maybe crazy, but she wasn’t mean. She didn't yell, and it calmed the two. And they got along well anyways, Lia because she often was a placeholder for her when Fe wasn’t extra out of it and knew how to deal with her quirks, and Dora because divergence fed her like nothing else, made her imagination run wild.

“Whoo! Well ladies, looks like I've got my work cut out for me eh? She invited that boy over last week and that was the first time she saw him in weeks? Oh and her other school friend left her group chat? Yikes, she's a right mess!”

“Yup. she… hasn't been adjusting well to all of this well”

“I’ll say!”

Talisa fidgeted absently with the cube in her hand as she walked around the palace commons, looking around at the scenery. The walls, usually a light lavender were dark violet and the paint was peeling in spots, revealing a gooey black underside. The TV was stuck on a looping image of the most recent Sanders Sides episode. She grinned wide enough to look uncanny, bending her back to crack her spine, almost splitting in half and did a spin as she rose again. She interlocked her fingers and cracked the lot of them and twisted her neck to pop that as well. 

“What are you about to do?”

“Why, what I do best dear Lia!”

She jumped in the air snapping her fingers twice. Her appearance changed, her extraordinarily unruly hair was tied back in a ponytail, tucked through the hole in the back of her baseball cap with the Slytherin logo across the front of it. Her shirt that had been well worn from being worried between her fingers as well as used as pajamas, changed to a tangent hoodie, her shorts with frayed strings switched to a flower patterned pair of leggings, and a skateboard appeared under her feet. She spun around on the board with her wild smile never leaving her face.

“WE’RE ON THE HIGHWAY TO HYPERFOCUS BABES!!! And a little smidge of depression but hey it’ll add to its effectiveness”

It was then that Inge and Carli came running and screamed simultaneously.

“LIA YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KEEP HER ASLEEP!!!”

“Couldn't you for once just do something that was helpful for Fe?”

Talisa stopped in mid spin, turning slowly to look at Carli and Inge. She was no longer smiling. She was glaring and she stepped off of her board and took slow methodical steps towards the two.

“Now now girls, there's no need to scream!”

She was completely in Inge’s face when she said her next words.

“Isn't that right brainiac?”

Inge nodded instantly, fear filling her instantly. Talisa then turned to Carli and grabbed her by the collar of her dress. She glared hard into her eyes and began to grin as Carli’s eyes filled with panic and she avoided her gaze.

“And just for your information, Lia is more helpful than you could ever hope to be, you coward. For someone whose supposed to be confidence you’d think you might be able to share some of that with our host instead of sitting in your room at 3 in the morning and crying into Ramen over the fact that she still isn't in a relationship”

She released Carli, who fell to the ground and scrambled as far away from her as possible and sobbed quietly in the corner she curled up in. and then a moment later, her entire demeanor changed and she smiled happily.

“Oh hi there gals! I was just starting to get Fe to get working!”

Inge blinked owlishly. Her head tilted, as if the whole interaction before held no merit over what Talisa had just said.

“What? But I thought?”

She walked to the TV screen, changing the screen to be a first person view of Fe working away on her essay. Inge made a noise of confusion as she looked back at Talisa yet again.

“But, but you’re a hindrance! You, you make her life a living hell, how is she still doing her work?”

“You know what I do right? Like, you know what my job is? Come on pinky and the pain, I do ADHD yeah, but I also do anxiety and depression. If she doesn't get this stuff done she’ll fail, doncha think that'd drive her to be anxious enough to get it done? If she doesn't she’ll be depressed as all hell, there's no chance she can do law school if she can't even pass an English course. And the bonus of ADHD is that sticky hyperfocus! She’ll be done with that essay before Thursday, and that test for math?”

The palace shook again as the TV showed her turning in her math test. Talisa grinned.

“I’d say it was a walk in the park, wouldn't you? But you know, on an unrelated note, we should really fix that shaking affect, makes me dizzy”

Inge stared in shock and Carli did the same. Talisa stuffed her hands into her front pocket on her jacket and went over to the beanbag across from the TV and plopped down onto it. She pulled her right hand out and chewed on her thumb as she watched the screen. Her job was done for the moment so she let herself relax as she felt the others do the same. Inge rushed back to her room to help aid Fe with the memories needed for writing her essay, but the others placed themselves somewhere in the common room. Carli sat on her love seat and watched the screen intently. Izzy fell asleep quickly, not being needed for the moment, same for Lia, the both of them curling up with Talisa. She let her left hand leave her pocket to pat Lia's head. The only noise was coming from the soft snoring of the sleeping sides and the TV projecting the real world. Finally, finally, the mind palace was quiet again.

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing or taken off my list!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Of Farms Fairs and Fame (Part 16)

Seeing her now let Sokka know exactly why Azula had been so reluctant to sing the song she’d written about her mother. She wasn’t crying, not yet, but the expression that dimmed her face...it was telling enough.  Singing a song that was loosely about Lu-Ten was something of a tearjerker. This, was raw and unchecked emotion. Her voice held such of genuine and potent sorrow that couldn’t be replicated even by the most seasoned actors. The kind of emotion that many of her other songs lacked.

He yearned to reach for her when the pre-chorus hit. When she began sing of a two children coming home to find their mother as cold as the bottle in her hand. The longing intensified when Azula transitioned into the chorus, singing about how the child knew that it was her fault. His stomach ached with sympathy. And all of those feelings doubled when he caught the first tear slip down her cheek. Though she had taken to leaning  over her guitar in such a way that her hair obscured most of her face, he could see it on her. He has come to know her well enough to understand what that posture meant; it was defeat and distress.

She seldom took up that stance.

Sokka momentarily averted his gaze to look at Zuko; it couldn’t have been easy on him to be reminded of childhood ghosts. His hold on Mai tightened, Sokka could see a frown spread upon her face but he could also tell that she didn’t have the heart to ask him to loosen his grip.

Ozai’s face was stoic, forcibly so. Sokka could tell that the blank expression was rehearsed, he knew because it is the very same look Azula usually gave him before caving to her emotions and then tearfully but firmly reminding him that he has seen nothing, before pressing her face against his chest and letting herself cry softly.

Not that he expected Ozai to cry on his shoulder.

Azula’s voice came out softer still, and with a hint of shakiness. He hoped that, that wouldn’t hurt her chances. Somehow, he got the feeling that it would aid her. It was something she simply couldn’t fake. It was a wonder to him that she could hold her melodies and notes so well, with such a heaviness on her mind.  

.oOo.

It became harder with each line to completely keep from losing her composure. And harder still as she plunged deeper into the story. To the bridge where her self blame reached its peak. The last few verses are a particular struggle, recounting how her father had broke. She spared the details of how he came to land in an institution, she had thought of omitting that part entirely. But what did it matter, she was already pouring a hefty amount of her soul into this one. She refused to do anything halfway.

She watched her father’s face intensely, observed how he went tense at the mention of himself. She hoped that he wasn’t angry. He seldom went rigid without anger behind it. She came to her last line and the stinging behind her eyes and the sorrow doing flops in her belly were coming to a head. She knew that she wasn’t going to last. Yet she was so close. So close to finishing without losing it. The song ended not on a note, but with a half, just barely controlled sob.

Azula put her guitar to the side and the recording booth fell silent.

She barely heard Wan Shi Tong’s awkward cough as he did his best to work through the newly created tension--bless the man’s soul--to announce final voting. When he cut to the commercial break Azula spoke, “do you keep a recordin’ of yer live shows?” Her voice is still light with grief and fading anxiety.

She was torn between hoping that he did not and hoping that he did. How useful it would be to have that recording for an album, should she ever get the chance. She couldn’t even dream of being able to reproduce that. It was the sort of powerful emotion that Sokka insisted was necessary for success.

She could give it her best, but she would never be able to cry like that, during a song, again. She wouldn’t have the courage or the ability to swallow her pride enough to do so.

“I keep a recordin’ a alla  my broadcasts.” Wan Shi Tong replied.

“How much do you want fer today’s.” She held up her credit card.

Wan Shi Tong pauses for a moment. “Tell you what. If you win the contest, it’s yours free ‘a charge.”

Azula nodded. She made her way out of the recording booth and quietly took a seat between her father and Sokka. The boy made off to pull her into a hug, but Ozai got there first. It wasn’t a full embrace, so much as pulling her in to lean her head on his shoulder as he rubbed her bicep.  

“It was a good song, Azula.” Zuko commented.

Azula only nodded, she didn’t feel like doing much else. She wondered to herself if it had been worth it to drag up that song. At first she could swear that it wasn’t, she felt so drained. And yet, she felt somehow lighter.

She wished TyLee could be there. The girl always knew what to say, whether she knew it or not. But her mother had to go and schedule a follow up doctor appointment that conflicted with the broadcast hours.

“Ready to git home?” Ozai asked.

Azula nodded. They stood, his hand moving from her bicep to her back. It was the same gesture he’d given her when she’d won her first trophy for the school’s debate team.

.oOo.

Sokka couldn’t contain the pout on his face. He wanted to put an arm on Azula’s back and comfort her, but her father was not sharing. He folded his arms over his chest, torn between wanting to be comforting and not wanting to intrude on one of the rarer moments when the girl’s father was openly affectionate.

He didn’t have his chance to lend a comforting hand until they were at home in her bedroom.

“I hope you ain’t too disappointed that I didn’t use our song.”

“No!” Sokka replied abruptly. “I like the ones ya went with. Ya worked hard on ‘em.” He watched her spread herself out on her mattress. “Can I?” He asked.

Azula nodded and patted a spot on the bed next to her. Sokka laid himself down and for a while they said nothing. He observes her staring at the ceiling. “It musta been hard ta sing alla that.” He commented when the silence finally became too uncomfortable for him.”

“Actually…” Azula trailed off. “It weren’t so bad.”  

.oOo.

It was a relief to have finally ripped off the band-aid that she had worn for years. “After I started, anyways.”

“It ain’t yer fault. What happened.” Sokka moved some stray locks out of her face.

“I know.” She replied. “Still feels that way sometimes though.”  She felt his fingers curl around her hand and squeeze.

“Ya’ve had a stressful week haven’t ya?”

Azula shrugged, “eh, it weren’t so bad.”

Sokka laughed, a chuckle with enough intensity to shake the bed. “Ya were caught in a ternader…”

“No, we were in a tornado.”

He thumped her arm, “I ain’t able ta help my accent.”

Azula rolled her eyes and laughed, silently repeating ‘ternader’ to herself. “Really, Sokka?”

Sokka sighed. “Anyway...ya were in a...twister…”

She cuts him off with another laugh, had he really just gone out of his way to avoid using ‘tornado’? He ignored her mockery for the time being. “...and ya say that it weren’t so bad? What kin’a stuff would have ta happen fer it ta have been a bad week?”

“I coulda been in the ternader,” at that Sokka frowned, “alone. I’m glad that you don’t leave me alone.”

“That ain’t what you said when I were talkin’ to ya while ya were trin’ ta write.”

“That’s different.” Azula grumbled. Her face grew serious. “I ain’t had no one help me like you do, Sokka. Most people just nod ‘n say ‘okay’ when I tell them I ain’t wanna talk ‘bout somethin’...” She didn’t really know what she was tryin to say. Perhaps that he was special to her. “I ain’t really have anyone like you before.”

She had kissed the boy so why couldn’t she just bring herself to say it out loud.

“I love...” She paused, losing her nerve and deciding that she had put herself out there too much for one day. “...that you came out to see me sing today.”

“I love listening to you sing.” He smiled, patting the back of her hand.

She wondered if she needed to say anything at all. If the gestures were telling enough.

[sigurdjarlson]

Khadgar & Medivh, I, J, M, and N. :)

Raventrust A-Z cuz someone else asked for it and I didn’t wanna but both Liontrust and Raventrust A-Z on the same post x) it would be even more obnoxiously long than this!!!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Medivh - Med is very attentive. Not to say he can’t be insensitive at times since he’s Medivh. I could see him having a heavy session and taking off on a whim after and not realizing What a dick move that was until he comes back to a very upset Khadgar who’s absolutely having the sub-drop from hell.

But generally he’s very good with him. He’s a mother hen and he’ll deny it and get huffy if you point it out but he is..but only for his Young Trust.

Khadgar - Cuddly puppy. Usually Med tires him out so he’s sleepy as hell. But prone to sub-drop if he’s alone. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Khadgar - loves Medivh’s eyes. You can’t tell me otherwise after his half a page description of Medivh’s eyes in TLG. They’re a lovely shade of green..uh when they’re not fel-green

Medivh - not necessarily a body part but he loves how soft Khadgar is. He has some pudge and he likes to touch it and squeeze it.

Has a weird thing for Khadgar’s throat. Not in a choking way necessarily but just holding it, tightening his grip a little and watching Khadgar melt, completely defenseless and completely trusting. Also biting and marking it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Khadgar: he’s a cumslut.

Loves having Med come in him and/or on him. He’s not picky about where as long as it’s on him. If he’s in a really subby mood he might lick it off the floor for him but Medivh is usually like okay don’t do that god knows what’s on Karazhan’s floors……he knows what’s been on those floors over the years and Khadgar doesn’t need to be eating it

He also comes..a lot. He’s messy without meaning to be and there’s a lot of it. He comes quite quickly too and he hates it but he can’t help it. It’s humiliating

He enjoys coming on Med more than he wants to admit. He’s possessive of his Master and it’s strangely satisfying

Medivh naturally adores making that happen as much as often and sometimes as quickly as possible just because he finds it extremely flattering and kind of..really..really hot that Khadgar wants him that bad (yeah go stroke your ego some more by stroking his cock Med)

Medivh: he likes coming inside Khadgar. It satisfies that deep dark desire to mark and claim him. There’s quite literally nothing more intimate than that. Particularly if Khadgar begs for it and he will because he loves it for that same reason.

And enjoys the opposite as well. And Every Time Khadgar tops there’s a guarantee that will happen and honestly Khadgar’s starting to think Med Is purposefully making sure he does not last because he’s like..getting off on it or something. Is making your partner premature ejaculate even a kink? He doesn’t know. Medivh is weird.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Medivh: probably has experimented with tentacles somehow someway. He loved it.

Khadgar: has succeeded in sucking himself off. Pulled a few muscles but it was so worth it.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Medivh: has a lot of experience with casual sex. Actual relationships? No. He’s at an absolute loss for what to do when he develops feelings for someone let alone Khadgar

Khadgar: little to no experience in either department. Good thing he has a good teacher eh? ;) (or..very bad teacher depending on who you ask lmao. I’m not sure this is what the Kirin Tor had in mind..)

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Medivh: Khadgar straddling his lap. It’s a very intimate position and also he just loves seeing him fuck himself on his cock sooo

Khadgar: Likes to be restrained or held down so anything like that

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Medivh: absolutely not afraid to joke around because sex is..not a thing that can be taken completely seriously if you want to enjoy it. If you can’t joke with your partner than what’s the point?

Khadgar: gets embarrassed really easily and either tries to hide his face or starts laughing. He laughs when he gets nervous and it’s super endearing.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

They both keep themselves pretty well groomed.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Medivh: surprisingly sweet. He’s very tender with Khadgar even while being rough. He loves him so very much and he can say as much without ever saying those three little words at all.

Khadgar: Soft. Very vulnerable and almost needy. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Khadgar: jacks off a lot. Normally just jerks it but if he has the time and privacy he’ll fuck himself into a stupor. Will hump things like pillows if desperate enough. Which is just..such a nice image. Yum.

Medivh: Does it to help himself fall asleep a lot but also just cuz. He likes pleasure. Who doesn’t? Likes when Khadgar catches him because he’s just..like that. Like..there he go fucking himself shamelessly and wanting Khadgar to see it again

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Khadgar: Dirty talk mixed with praise will make him melt. He wants to be good. He wants to make Medivh happy and he his good boy. Some degradation is good too.

Absolutely worships Med’s cock. Can’t keep his hands off it most of the time to Medivh’s amusement. He loves making

Him feel good, loves knowing it’s HIM who’s making Medivh feels so good. Will lick and suck and just tease for hours. Loves making him come. He loves having him inside him. It’s as physically close as you can get to another person and it’s just..so good.

He’sn absolute cockslut. Med loves to have Khadgar ride him and just watch him fuck himself so shamelessly on his cock (he loves seeing him come without his cock being touched just from being fucked)

Toys are fun but he genuinely does prefer Med’s dick. Which is an absolute ego boost for Med lmao. Toys don’t make Medivh moan like that or twitch and throb inside him and they don’t come inside him. It’s just not the same even if they vibrate or whatever.

He just loves that dick okay. It’s Medivh’s dick but it’s Khadgar’s lbr.

Medivh: voyeurism. He likes to watch Khadgar who has grown to enjoy putting on a show for his Master. Bit of an exhibitionist too he likes knowing Khadgar is watching him and enjoying the show because oh, Medivh can put on a show too.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Khadgar: absolutely gets off on fucking where he can get caught. Medivh lets him think there’s a risk of getting caught (when in reality Medivh has everything under control)

Medivh: absolutely enjoys fucking everywhere and anywhere he can. you know why? Because he CAN. magic is a wonderful tool thanks.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Khadgar: Medivh teasing him, hinting or just outright saying what he wants to do to him or more accurately what he’s going to do to him later. Medivh is Great at that subtle sort of public teasing. A brush here, a hand stroking his thigh under the table.

He also to his embarrassment gets hard when Medivh praises him even if it’s about something not sexual. It just makes him want more of it. Hilariously the same goes for being scolded or when Medivh gets very rough/dominant with him. He’ll be upset but get hard and Medivh is just like..really?? Now??? …I can work with that

Medivh: anticipation. Knowing Khadgar wants him. Being denied what he wants. 

“I need you.” Never fails to get him hard. He likes to feel needed.

Sometimes just when Khadgar looks at him so eager to please and absolutely..adoring. He looks the same way when he’s on his knees in front of him too. Ah and When Khadgar says “sir” “Master” in a very specific tone

after nearly losing Khadgar. It’s not the same as carnal lust though. It’s I need to know you’re alive, I need to feel you and I can feel you, you’re all around me and you’re okay, you’re alive and I’ve got you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Medivh: ain’t gonna share his boy. If he does he’s super fuckin weird about it even if it’s someone he loves and trusts. He may trust them but he doesn’t trust anyone to give Khadgar what he needs. No one knows his boy like he does. It’s super arrogant in a way.

And he doesn’t want anyone to. That is his privilege alone. He takes a perverse sort of pleasure in being Khadgar’s first (and only if Med has his way)

He’s his. He’s perfect, brilliant and all his. He loves his apprentice. He loves knowing Khadgar only reacts this way to him, only allows him to see him this way and touch him.

Hes not adverse to gags but he’s not fond of them because he loves to hear the sounds Khadgar makes but he’ll indulge him once in a while..sometimes it’s necessary

Anything that will result in permanent or serious injury to his boy. He just can’t go that far.

Khadgar: will NOT share his Master. Nope. He’s jealous and possessive af just like Medivh. Quite spiteful and petty about it actually.

Medivh usually finds it super endearing because he’ll get really riled up when jealous and like try to boss him around in the bedroom but the thing is Khadgar cannot dom to save his own life (not med at least) so it’s terrible and Medivh is basically just indulging him while gazing at him fondly (which pisses poor Khadgar off and wounds his ego) “mine” “how sweet Young Trust.” He usually ends up taking the reins back and nailing him after a while because it’s alright he knows how to take care of his boy. He knows what he needs.

Humiliation is great for Khaddy but don’t talk about not wanting him. Please don’t. It hits too close to home. Even if he gets off on it it’ll leave him really messed up after

Fire play. He has no desire to have himself branded /again/. Not that Medivh would even consider it. Hell, he probably has he same aversion considering he had he same thing done to him.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Khadgar: ahhh he loves sucking dick and he’s good at it. Whether he’s experienced or not his enthusiasm is what makes it so amazing. When he gets really into it he’s sloppy in the sense he’s drooling and it’s a bit loud in an obscene way. Moans the entire time. Might actually come in his pants while doing it if he’s not careful. Likes being reduced to a drooling, crying mess and then have Med come on his face. Disgusting boy

Medivh: enjoys giving and receiving. Delights in how surprised Khadgar is when he sucks him off. Has a pretty damn good gag reflex which is good since Khadgar sucks at controlling his hips when he’s getting blown. He’s given up apologizing to Medivh for it though because Medivh just deepthroats him and makes him forget his own name

Likes when Khadgar pulls his hair. Is absolutely doing something to him with his hands whether it’s fingering him, playing with his balls or nipples, he’s doing something. He doesn’t have enough hands for all those things though :/ im sure he’ll find some kind of solution to that however..

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Khadgar: constantly torn between needing to get off and wanting to prolong the experience. So it depends.

Medivh: depends on his mood but generally likes to go at whatever pace he feels like at that moment. Sometimes he needs him hard and fast and other times he’s prefer to savor every moment with his apprentice.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Khadgar: he’s impatient. He will jump Medivh the second they’re alone somewhere. There’s something delightfully..dirty yabout walking around with his ass full of Med’s come okay

Med would prefer to take some time but sometimes you just don’t have the time and well, he’s not gonna deny his boy or himself so he’s down. He’ll finish what he started later~

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Medivh is actually more responsible than you’d think..with Khadgar. Not so much himself.

Khadgar: he’s dumb. There isn’t much he won’t try and he has little to no concern for his own well-being. Medivh’s however? very much.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Khadgar: his stamina sucks in the sense he has trouble lasting long but he makes up for it in being able to get hard again pretty damn quickly.

Medivh: Lasts longer than Khadgar but might take a little longer to get it back up to his annoyance. Not like an issue but just a normal refractory period. He���s not 20 anymore after all.

Khadgar does absolutely baffle him sometimes because light what the fuck does he not have a refractory period or what.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Khadgar: probably doesn’t have any but is absolutely down for experimenting with the ones Med has

Medivh however has an extensive collection and he’s more than happy to satisfy Khadgar’s…curiosity. Okay and maybe he’s had to help poor Khadgar out of a few awkward situations because he tried doing so without him before (which is just rude anyway thanks)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Khadgar: you know what drives Medivh insane? Ignoring him. Acting disinterested or worse acting more interested in someone else.

Medivh: an asshole he will tease Khadgar for hours but honestly has a hard time not giving in because Khadgar begs so sweetly sometimes and light, he wants it too. Hilariously hates being teased himself (love-hates it) and will get really frustrated very quickly.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Khadgar: whimpers, whines, if you play your cards right you can make him scream. He’ll beg if you break him down enough. You can reduce him to tears and they’re not /bad/ tears but it’s kind of alarming to anyone who isn’t used to it. Sweetest little moans you’ll ever hear and then he’s demanding to he fucked okay because he needs it and he really isn’t as innocent as he looks

Medivh: in casual encounters he really isn’t very vocal but with Khadgar he never shuts the fuck up. He talks. Khadgar loves his voice and he uses that. He loves seeing Khadgar react to what he says, seeing how strongly a few words can effect him.

He doesn’t usually scream but he will curse and react in different ways whether it’s biting something so he doesn’t scream or almost blowing up Karazhan

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Khadgar: loves being spanked. Often fantasizes about Med having him over his knee and spanking him. If it happens you can almost guarantee he’s going to come on him which just..adds all the more reason for punishment hm? (Medivh sucks at pretending he’s not absolutely thrilled about him doing it but thats okay)

Daddy kink. Will never admit to it but he melts when Med calls him his good boy. It’s probably his unresolved parental abandonment issues coming into play but hey

Honestly has no idea how Medivh would react to that and isn’t keen on finding out in case it’s a “What the fuck” response. And honestly Medivh would probably have that reaction but because his dick just got hard to /that/ and that is normally not his thing but when Khadgar says it…Yeah he could get used to that

Overstimulation. He hates (Loves) when Medivh makes him come repeatedly to the point he has nothing more to give but he just keeps /going/ and he can’t possibly come again right? But he does and he’s crying and begging but he doesn’t know what for.

Finger sucking. He’s very..oral. He loves sucking on Medivh’s fingers, licking them or cleaning the come from them. He also finds it (secretly) very soothing sometimes. Medivh fucking him while making him suck on his fingers never fails to get him off. It’s a good way to keep him quiet without gagging him completely.

Making Med lose control in some way or another. Med is usually so collected even while fucking and sometimes Khadgar just wants to see him snap.

Medivh: Bites. He likes marking Khadgar. Usually in places no one can see, a little secret for the both of them. But if he’s feeling particularly possessive he makes sure it’s visible (to Khadgar’s embarrassment and arousal) the same goes for bruises and scratches. Other marks.

Proudly wears any he’s given in return and Khadgar just..loves that so much.

Loves having his hair pulled and it’s a good way to make him go from 0 to 100 real fast. Like oh you want it rough? He can be rough.

Khadgar getting off on his leg. That sounds weird but like I mean Khadgar in his lap and rubbing his cock against his thigh. It turns him on. He likes seeing his Boy so desperate for him.

Loves riding Khadgar. He wouldn’t be opposed to other positions but he loves being able to control the pace..mostly because Khadgar will quickly beg him to slow down because he’s going to come and he orders Khadgar not to come just to be an ass because he knows his Boy can’t fucking help it

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Khadgar: not small but not huge either. Average. Maybe a little above average?

Medivh: he’s got big dick energy for a reason. Not like unreasonably big though. It can fit In Khadgar’s ass But many things can fit in Khadgar’s ass if you’re determined enough

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Khadgar: he’s young and he’s got an extremely gorgeous mentor. What do you think? 

Medivh: there were orgies in his tower

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Khadgar: tried really hard not to fall asleep but Medivh pets his hair and he falls asleep like instantly

Medivh: Doesn’t sleep till he knows Khadgar is taken care of. Then he’s out like a light

[verdigrisprowl]

July 11 Blurr’s Horror Stream - ASOUE: The Ersatz Elevator

Neither Prowl nor the Constructicons were here.

Whirl was, though! He has returned to Cybertron. And of course, his first priority was horror movie night.

Blurr 9:11 pm ( okay. It sEEMS like I have good one. I think. ) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:12 pm ((\o/)) Blurr 9:13 pm ( just let me know if it's really bad. I have to leave one headphone off because my roommate demands attention 24/7 ) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:14 pm ((didn't you move to get AWAY from that)) Blurr 9:14 pm yeah but she's 'sad ' right now ] somethin' about her friend with benefits not wanting to be an item ??? ) I'm too cynical for this >>;;; ) Whirl 9:17 pm aight let me know when y'all are ready cos i need to paint A Word Picture for y'all)) Blurr 9:17 pm (I'm waitin' for everyone to be ready, too !) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:17 pm ((i'm ready to pop in and go whenever)) VProwl 9:18 pm ((idek if im gonna bring someone ic, go get started)) Blurr 9:20 pm /any. way. Here he is, horrific upgrades and all. Welcome to the pARTY / Whirl 9:20 pm ((ACK, WOULD IT BE easier for you to be IC if i stayed ooc?)) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:26 pm *Soundwave and Rumble drop in, though not before looking into the room with a feeler. It's been a long time. Who knows where certain medics might be roaming by now?* *Coast looks clear-ish. They'll take their seats.* Blurr 9:27 pm / wiggles claws at. He doesn't seem to have many people lingering on the ship this time- the crew is very busy doing their usual business./ VProwl 9:27 pm ((my IC or OOC ness is completely unrelated to anything Whirl does)) Blurr 9:27 pm / though who KNOWS where Ratchet is. Dude is a mystery / Whirl 9:27 pm ((okee dokee, i just wasn't sure, i didn't wanna throw a wrench in the works, sorry)) VProwl 9:27 pm ((prowl stopped coming ages ago. now i can only take constructicons and i don't feel like taking constructicons.)) ((they only come to SOUE to record it for prowl and right now prowl is in full Ask For Nothing At All Ever From The Constructicons mode)) ((so yeah unless i change my mind at the last second im probably only here to watch for myself)) Blurr 9:28 pm (( whenever y'all are ready, I'll start, btw. )) VProwl 9:29 pm ((ready)) Whirl 9:29 pm AIGHT, well, i'm sorry blurr and soundwave & co but there are less people to distract whirl you're going to get Full Force Whirl Presence)) I'm ready, just bout to drag me boy in)) Blurr 9:29 pm (( Do it. )) Whirl 9:29 pm *is just suddenly there in the doorway, blinking slowly. Whirl looks like he’s been dragged backward through a particularly dirty chimney, with most of his plating covered in soot and scorchmarks. Aside from a few superficial scratches and a cracked optic, he actually doesn’t seem to be wounded. The entire weapons array that used to be under his cockpit is just flat-out gone, replaced by a bevy of new accoutrements: a thick collar with the broken end of a restraining pole still dangling from it, two long serial numbers that have been enameled into his stabilizer fins, a handful of broken devices (which seem to be stasis locks and other neutralizing contraptions) cold welded to various parts of his anatomy, and finally, most noticeably, a partially-functioning mode-lock clamped onto his back* Whirl deep breath 9:29 pm Whirl 9:30 pm Any chance I could get one of you to do me a favor? ((A Word Picture is now complete)) Blurr 9:30 pm / snort / I DO owe you one, don't I? What happened to you, hnnh? Get stuck in a jail or something? Whirl 9:31 pm Got it in one. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:31 pm *Rumble's up on his feet in an instant.* //What the FRAG-- What favor?// Whirl bobs his head in tired greeting 9:31 pm Whirl 9:31 pm Could someone please get this fragging MODE-LOCK off of me because it's DRIVING ME CRAZY. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:32 pm *Soundwave lifts up both feelers. Come over, if Blurr doesn't go over there first.* Whirl 9:34 pm *will trot on over and hunker down a bit so Soundwave can reach it easier. ...not that he probably needs to because Endless Spaghetti Arms but still* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:36 pm [[Don't move. He'd rather not lose his tendrils.]] *They're going to poke around and beneath the mode lock to try to figure out how it comes off. Might be a little wiggly in there.* Whirl is now making the exact face that his avatar is making 9:36 pm ItsyBitsySpyers 9:37 pm *In about a minute he'll have it deactivated and pulled off.* [[Hmm. Do you want this?]] Whirl 9:39 pm No. God, no, by all means, just. Obliterate it. ItsyBitsySpyers 9:39 pm [[As you wish.]] *Soundwave hands it to Rumble, who is more than happy to punch it to pieces with a couple hits from a piledriver.* *...The ground might shake a little in the process. Sorry bout that, Blurr.* Whirl 9:40 pm *the VERY FIRST thing he tries to do is transform, but there's too many things stuck to him at the moment and he just kind of. Falls over. Lays there for a moment* *caught somewhere between modes* ItsyBitsySpyers 9:41 pm *...Soundwave snaps a pic, silently.*??//Uh. You - you alive?// Whirl 9:43 pm I can't be sure, but I THINK so. *shifts back, and with great dignity, makes his slow way over to the hammock and clambers inside. After a moment he just pokes his head over the side of the hammock* So. How you guys been? ItsyBitsySpyers 9:44 pm *Rumble kicks the junked mode lock bits side and sits wher ehe is.* //Pretty good, I guess. Been lookin' into the writin' classes we got on planet. Boss moved to Intelligence insteada the Security Forces. 'N he--// ItsyBitsySpyers 9:46 pm *Soundwave pings him a warning. Rumble resets his vocalizer.* //'N he been doin' good on business. Plus, we found them barnacles. Stickin' themselves to space slugs. Weird scrap.// //But that ain't important. HOW THE FRAG'D THEY CATCH -YOU?-// Blurr 9:48 pm / anyway pretend he zoned out because like I was gone / Whirl 9:49 pm *nods very slowly* Y'know what? Good. Damn good. I--*okay he deserves this yelling* I think someone was tailing me last time I got stuck. Went out to get some stuff for my ship and wham. ...okay it's actually a lot more complicated that "wham" but I got back about... maybe. Six hours ago. I'm a little out of it. Whirl in a sort of permanently half-zoned state, Blurr's in good company 9:50 pm ItsyBitsySpyers 9:50 pm *They both shake their head. They never thought they'd see the day.* Whirl 9:50 pm Hey, Teach? If you got any liquid snacks I'm starving. And I'm gonna eat them all. Blurr 9:51 pm Oh, there's plenty. /motions to table/ We just harvested an entire freighter Whirl 9:52 pm I should've called YOU to come get me. *peers resentfully at the snack table. How dare it be so far away. He'll get it in a second* So. I might... *trails off* Blurr 9:52 pm I can get it. I just invested in a new set of legs. Whirl 9:53 pm ((oh my god the sheer amount of innuendo in this is staggering)) Blurr 9:53 pm /smirks/ Oh, me? I would have ADORED to slaughter an entire jail. Whirl 9:53 pm Again? Damn, Teach, you don't waste time. So. *looks to Soundwave and Rumble* I might... be. In a little trouble. My official story is: I fell down a flight of stairs. Blurr 9:54 pm Waste time doing what? Investing in new legs? Whirl 9:55 pm Yep. Blurr 9:56 pm Well, these ones are more suited for me. The speed upgrades work better with these ones. Less burn in the legs, less broken gears. Whirl 9:56 pm BRB!)) ItsyBitsySpyers 9:57 pm //Musta been some damn important stairs.// ItsyBitsySpyers 9:57 pm [[What is it you require?]] Blurr 9:57 pm Stairs are unnecessary... Blurr 9:59 pm (( Olaf would be one amazing cosplayer )) Whirl 10:01 pm Just don't rat me out to the... I dunno. The space police, or whatever. God, the world changed since I was gone. Blurr? Being... RESPONSIBLE? I mgiht not be in the right dimension, after all. Blurr 10:01 pm / snort / Whirl 10:02 pm *he isn't ENTIRELY flippant about this, as much as he likes to pretend he is, and he's also not so oblivious that he doesn't know what he should do next* Hey, Rumble? Could I get you over here a second? Comm's out. ((time to do everything in my power to get salmonella)) Windchill 10:02 pm (( WHY you do this. Are you eating raw eggs. )) Blurr 10:03 pm My profession is literally stealing and piracy. Windchill 10:04 pm (( Oh. )) Blurr 10:04 pm Police are the last mechs on my speed dial list. K-Kyeheeheh. Well, except that one I bribed... / taps chinplate / Think I might have eaten that one, though. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:04 pm [[No mech will hear that you have returned unless you explicitly give him permission to tell them. At least, not from his work unit.]] Blurr 10:05 pm (( the fan. I can't )) VProwl 10:05 pm ((the water aside, i would kill for some salmon rn)) Blurr 10:05 pm (( mood )) Whirl 10:05 pm i bequeath my cosmic allowance of salmon to y'all)) ItsyBitsySpyers 10:06 pm //Yeah! Sure.// *Rumble wasn't sure if he ought to ask about the hammock, but now that he's been invited over, he'll trot that way - and up, if permitted.* Whirl 10:06 pm *just nods to Blurr and Soundwave, closing his optic. Please enjoy his genuine gratitude* Thanks. VProwl 10:08 pm ((eyyyy bob)) Whirl 10:08 pm *will absolutely help Rumble up and shift so he can get comfortable. He speaks very softly, garnering as much privacy as he can without comms* Sorry for not calling. I wasn't able to get a message out. Blurr 10:08 pm (( I would wear this costume for years ) Whirl 10:08 pm this would be a fantastic cosplay)) Blurr 10:08 pm ( the eyes bobble. I'm screaming ) VProwl 10:09 pm ((every time he says sallmun)) Blurr 10:10 pm ((( I can't. )) Whirl 10:10 pm kdl;de)) u right)) Windchill 10:11 pm *Appears to ruin the evening, sorry y'all.* Blurr 10:12 pm / wiggles claws in a wave. / Windchill 10:12 pm ((Plunger...harpoons? )) ItsyBitsySpyers 10:13 pm *Good thing it's Rumble and not Frenzy, or else there'd be no privacy whatsoever. Rumble whispers just fine, and Soundwave pretends not to still be able to hear it.* //Hey, nah. Nah. 'S okay. Jus' - glad ya ain't there no more, y'know? 'N anybody's sorry, it's me, on account of we wasn't no help to ya.// ((this food is so vile)) Blurr 10:13 pm ( blegh ) ItsyBitsySpyers 10:14 pm *Soundwave bobs his helm at Windchill.* Windchill 10:14 pm *Waves dramatically.* Blurr 10:16 pm Honestly, he's terrible at assassinating people. Honestly. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:16 pm ((those teeth are creeping me out)) Blurr 10:17 pm (( they're like way too white )) Whirl 10:17 pm So'm I. *shakes his head a little* Nothing you could've done. Nothing anybody could've done, except me. And I did it. *shifts a little--he might be curling up around Rumble just a little. Just a little* I gotta say, though, Teach--advice for life. Whirl raises his head when he senses Windchill, and gives a very nonchalant nod. "Sup?" 10:17 pm Blurr 10:17 pm Advice for life? You're giving /me/ advice? I suppose I'll listen to yours. VProwl 10:18 pm ((im remembering that post about how tfp starscream's human form would definitely be count olaf)) ((i can absolutely see him performing this song)) ((exactly this way)) Whirl 10:18 pm No, I was saying, the song is advice for life. I might be a little rattled but I'm well aware what it would look like if I gave you advice. Right now. SHINT)) Blurr 10:19 pm Aw, come on. Advice from you is probably the most logical advice I ever hear. Aside from... well. Drift's. His advice is pretty great. Windchill 10:19 pm *Squints at the crispy weirdo that looks like it might have once been...a Whirl.* Whirl 10:20 pm You can never tell him I said this--ANY of you--but... you're not completely wrong, Teach. Blurr 10:20 pm / smirks and wiggles claws in the air slightly / Of course not. I'm an educator, not usually wrong. /is wrong a lot tbh/ ItsyBitsySpyers 10:23 pm *Rumble notices and oh-so-slowly-and-carefully readjusts a leg so it's bumped up against Whirl a little more.* //Listen - Frenzy's still learnin' medic stuff. If y'need help gettin' all that slag off, we maybe could try.// ItsyBitsySpyers 10:25 pm //Welp, they're gonna die.// Whirl 10:25 pm Yeah, I might take you up on that. Most of it's not dug in, it's slapped on. Like... glued. But with metal. Except for the thing-- *wiggles one of his fins irritably* Looks worse'n it is. Blurr 10:25 pm You know, Whirl... I'm just saying. I've got a medic that really likes your anatomical makeup. He'd be willing to put you back together and then some. / Piston misses you / Whirl 10:26 pm Oh, PLEASE send Piston after me. I've got half a year's worth of pent-up frustration and I'd LOVE to get it out of my system. Blurr 10:27 pm Oye... no hurting my mortician. Despite his usually... eh. /shrugs/ weird? personality, he's actually quite useful. Windchill 10:28 pm *Sits his giant BUTT on the floor, finally.* Whirl 10:28 pm I'm sure to SOME folks. *peers peevishly at Blurr* Piston just better keep his distance. But in all seriousness, I'm not really hurt. Blurr 10:29 pm Yes, but Piston COULD help fix... everything else. Whirl 10:29 pm Oh shit, was that an earthquake? Oh, wait. No. It was just YOU. *zoops his head out of the hammock to stare accustingly at Windchill* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:29 pm //Maybe I oughta stick a pair of Windchill afts where my piledrivers go.// Blurr 10:29 pm K-Kyeheheh. Windchill 10:29 pm *Would retract his head sheepishly, but his collar doesn't allow it. He just bobs his head stupidly instead.* Don't be mean to me. Blurr 10:30 pm You know, it was an offer of absolute honesty. I wouldn't let Piston do anything... odd. He's a bit in a good mood- you're way off his radar. Whirl 10:30 pm You'd be too POWERFUL, Rumble. Windchill 10:30 pm ...This is true. Whirl 10:31 pm Being mean is just how I show affection. Blurr 10:31 pm It's the best way, honestly. Whirl 10:31 pm And... thanks, Teach. I think I'll let Frenzy handle that bit. But, if you're in the mood to hand out favors... mind if I crash here tonight? Windchill 10:31 pm *Shrugs.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:32 pm //Yer right. Can't get too strong. Don't want Devastator gettin' jealous of my strength.// Windchill 10:32 pm ...Why not? ItsyBitsySpyers 10:32 pm *Soundwave just huffs. Good thing the Constructicons weren't here to hear that.* Whirl 10:32 pm Well now we know what we need to do if we ever got to defeat Devastator. Blurr 10:32 pm /hums and drums claws together/ Well, I suppose we could spare a room. /snort/ Joking. K-Kyeheheheh. Of course you can! You can stay in one of the more suited rooms- furthest from Piston. Windchill 10:33 pm *We need to duplicate his butt and weld them to Rumble's hands?* Whirl 10:33 pm In all seriousness, though... *bobs his head at Windchill again; please enjoy a moment of sincerity* Good to see you. Windchill 10:33 pm Oh yeah? You look like poo. Whirl nods 10:34 pm Whirl 10:34 pm I fell down a flight of stairs. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:34 pm ((I FINALLY JUST FIGURED OUT WHO ESME'S ACTRESS IS)) ((that's been bothering me all night)) Whirl 10:35 pm she's been in a lot of stuff! Ella Enchanted, The 10th Kingdom)) Windchill 10:35 pm *Kind of just...looks Whirl up and down with his good eye. The other one is watching the show.* ItsyBitsySpyers 10:35 pm ((yeah, Sally Peep, heh)) Windchill 10:35 pm Must have been hella stairs. I believe it. Whirl 10:35 pm ((she's such a patoot)) Whirl nods gravely. "It was." 10:35 pm Whirl 10:36 pm Actually I got caught. And had to bust my way out. Which, as you can see... did. But the stairs is my official story. If you don't mind, Teach, I was just going to. Not leave this hammock until tomorrow. VProwl 10:37 pm ((that baby is such a great actor)) Windchill 10:37 pm Ah. Blurr 10:37 pm I suppose. You could do that, too. Windchill 10:37 pm Well. Whirl 10:37 pm she really is, tbh)) Whirl is now going to reach over to those drinks Blurr brought near and start drinking. Just tossing his head back again and again. Like some kind of bobbing bird. LIKE A MACHINE. These snacks don't stand a chance. 10:39 pm Windchill 10:40 pm *Gasps with sudden realization.* Whirl...LIED to me about hella stairs. To my very face. Whirl 10:41 pm *doesn't stop drinking, even while he answers* NO. Surely not. Doesn't sound like WHIRL. Windchill 10:41 pm Yes it does. *Points accusingly.* Whirl pauses just long enough to look innocent. And then goes back to drinking 10:42 pm Windchill 10:43 pm *Slowly lowers his claw.* I'll forgive it...this time. Blurr 10:44 pm how merciful. Windchill 10:46 pm But ONLY, *he lifts his claw imperiously* because I missed the perpetrator of these foul untruths. Whirl finally finishes his marathon run on these snacks 10:46 pm Whirl 10:46 pm Yeah. You just missed him, too. Windchill 10:46 pm Shut up, butthole. Whirl 10:47 pm What's it saying? Windchill 10:48 pm Pure LIES. And hot air. Whirl 10:49 pm Hmm. I believe it. Windchill 10:49 pm Good, you can trust me. *Maybe.* Windchill 10:51 pm *But probably not.* Whirl 10:51 pm *DOUBTFUL* Windchill 10:51 pm *Smiles and flutters his lashes innocently.* Whirl *he un-zoops and retreats back to the sanctity of the hammock* How's the little wriggler doing? 10:51 pm Whirl 10:51 pm ...welp)) Windchill 10:52 pm Little? Whirl 10:53 pm Okay, fair, how's your gargantuan offspring doing? Windchill 10:54 pm That's more like it. She's fat. Whirl 10:54 pm Once I take care of my... whole. Everything, I'll try and swing by. Windchill 10:55 pm Eh, she'd probably recognize you, even looking like that. Whirl 10:55 pm Sadly, I didn't pick up any new and exciting foul language in prison. As unlikely as that sounds. Windchill 10:55 pm I'm shocked. Whirl 10:57 pm Yeah. Apparently I'm *huge claw air-quotes* "Too unruly" and "a danger to myself and others" so I spent a good amount of time out of it. ItsyBitsySpyers 10:58 pm //Puh. Jus' means they were big cowards.// *Mutter mutter.* Whirl 10:58 pm *snorts* More or less. ...but if you get locked up, I mean. Worse ways to spend it than unconscious. Windchill 10:59 pm I...guess? I mean, I can vouch for that. *Shrugs helplessly.* Whirl 10:59 pm *one-armed shrug in return* And speaking of unconscious I'm... probably not gonna make it through whatever you guys decide to watch next, so. If I fall asleep don't wake me up. Blurr 11:00 pm Piston might. IF you're lucky. Windchill 11:00 pm Good night, sweet prince. I'll knock you out right now if you want. Whirl 11:01 pm Yeah, well, it'll be unlucky for HIM. *hunkers down in the hammock* Thank you, sweet princess, but I think I'm good. And, yeah. I said it, and yeah, I'm gonna say it again, and if any of you guys give me slag about it I'll make you regret it but--good to see you all again. All of you. *Rumble gets an additional nudge* Windchill 11:02 pm You say that now. Blurr 11:03 pm / smirks and wiggles claws at Whirl / Good to see you, too. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:05 pm //No slag, promise. Not about that, anyhow. Gotta pick somethin' better.// *Snickers and nudges back.* Whirl 11:05 pm *snorts at Windchill--it's a genuine laugh. You earned it, big guy* I come back, Rumble, and already you're threatening me. *shakes head mock-dramatically* It's good to be... well. Not home. But whatever this is. Windchill 11:06 pm *More LIES.* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:06 pm *Looks around.* //A ship, I think. Either that or a big ol' rusty bucket.// Whirl 11:07 pm Well I was referring to this dimension's Cybertron and surrounding affiliated areas but that works. Blurr 11:07 pm Excuse me? Windchill 11:07 pm *Rolls onto his knees. Turns out his giant butt offers little to no cushioning on floors.* Blurr 11:07 pm It's a /great/ ship. And right now, we're not very far from a quadrant that is radiating a power source that I simply /must/ have. Windchill 11:10 pm *Okay, hands and knees. Getting up is hard.* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:10 pm //You 'n them treasures, pffff. Somebody's gonna trap ya with a fake one day.// *Whispering again:* //Psss. Whirl. Y'want the hammock all to your own self, or's it okay I maybe don't go?// ItsyBitsySpyers 11:10 pm [[Do you need help, Windchill?]] Whirl 11:11 pm Someone, please help Old Man Windchill over here. Windchill 11:11 pm Do NOT. Whirl 11:11 pm DO. Windchill 11:11 pm If I want help I'll ask. I'm a big boy. Whirl 11:11 pm Well OBVIOUSLY. Windchill 11:11 pm But it's funnier this way. Blurr 11:11 pm K-Kyeheheheh. Someone already TRIED to. They missed me, obviously. /wiggles claws/ Besides, this is the real deal. Something genuinely powerful and strong. Whirl 11:11 pm *and lowers his head to whisper back* I'd... like it, if you stayed. Blurr 11:11 pm It radiates across the wavelengths with extremely strong waves... plus, I think it might be something unique. Windchill 11:13 pm *Grunts and deliberately makes a spectacle of getting up, employing as many ungodly creaks as possible since he's been CALLED OUT.* *You must all suffer for it.* ItsyBitsySpyers 11:14 pm *Soundwave just turns his audio receptors down. It's easier.* Whirl 11:14 pm Gnight, loser. I'll call you up when my comms are working again. Windchill 11:14 pm Who...me? Whirl 11:14 pm Yes, you. Blurr 11:14 pm /cackling at Windchill because wow how obnoxious, he loves it / Windchill 11:14 pm Fuck you, Whirl. But okay. Blurr 11:14 pm You know, Whirl, Blaster could get your comms working. You just have to deal with his ... idiocy. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:15 pm *He'll trust Rumble with Whirl on this ship for one night. May any wayward "doctors" be crab-pinched to pieces if they come creeping up with laser scalpels in hand.* Whirl 11:15 pm Not likely, you oversized antique. Windchill 11:15 pm *Gasps and clutches imaginary pearls.* Blurr 11:15 pm / Blurr will ensure none of them die overnight / Blurr 11:16 pm You know, you could all stay over , if you'd like. We won't reach the site until late tomorrow. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:16 pm *Rumble just nods and settles back in. He's not tired, himself, but it's kinda - nice. Been forever.* Whirl 11:16 pm Mmmmaybe. I'll come bug you about it in the morning. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:16 pm [[Ah, no. He has work. It piles up quickly as of late.]] *Up Soundwave gets, with less creaking and clanking than Windchill. He'll be on his way in seconds.* Blurr 11:17 pm Ah. I see. Well, whenever you want to visit. Windchill 11:17 pm *Appears to be thinking really hard if the sudden appearance of stress lines around his optics are any indication.* Blurr 11:17 pm ... You good? / he can't have a lift one eyebrow expression, but he can try. It just looks like murderous staring / Whirl 11:18 pm god bless blurr for trying omfg)) ItsyBitsySpyers 11:18 pm ((LOL BLURR)) Blurr 11:18 pm (( hE HAS ONE EYE OKAY )) ( GSDNBFKDAFN )) (( He just. He can't lift an optic ridge- he's missing that piece on the other side. So it just looks. So bad bfkjdsfbadsj ) Whirl bobs his head in farewell to Soundwave, Windchill, and Blurr. and hunkers back down. Whirl is sleep. 11:19 pm Whirl 11:19 pm that's why we lovim)) Windchill 11:19 pm I'm leaving. Blurr 11:19 pm (( I feel like Whirl gets his expressions )) Whirl raises a claw but doesn't open his optic. Clicks it like a castanet. 11:19 pm Blurr 11:19 pm ... Pity. Well, next time you'd like to visit, I'll clear the bridge for you. And if you're good at tearing mechs apart, maybe you'll get lucky and find us on a good day. Whirl 11:20 pm if anyone would, I feel like it'd be Whirl)) Blurr 11:20 pm (( Whirl and Drift for sure )) Windchill 11:20 pm *Shrugs.* I have worms. Whirl 11:20 pm he knows a thing or two about making do with limited facial expression capabilities)) Blurr 11:20 pm (( I feel like Drift kinda "I THINK he's confused but he might just be angry. Or both.' )) ItsyBitsySpyers 11:20 pm ((OF ALL THE RECORDINGS SOUNDWAVE COULD MISS IT WAS "I HAVE WORMS")) Blurr 11:21 pm ... That's... nice? Whirl 11:21 pm ((HAHAHAH)) Blurr 11:21 pm (( LMAOOO ) / squinting. Drums claws together / Well, have... fun with that? Windchill 11:21 pm (( I'm sorry it was spontaneous. )) I have ONE WORM, *this clarification requires yelling and the puffing out of chest armour.* *And it doesn't make it any better.* Blurr 11:22 pm Why are you yelling? I have one optic, not one audial. Windchill 11:22 pm Because I can and no-one can really stop me. Blurr 11:22 pm ... Bet? Whirl 11:23 pm *still doesn't open his optic, but calls out, muffled* I taught his worm to cuss. Windchill 11:23 pm I only gamble with my life. Blurr 11:23 pm W-what else are you supposed to gamble with? Windchill 11:23 pm ...Most folks settle for money or material goods. Pride, maybe. Blurr 11:23 pm ... Ew. Where's the fun in that? Windchill 11:23 pm *He has none of those so life it is.* Blurr 11:23 pm / glances at Whirl/ You what the who now? Blurr 11:24 pm We /motions to self and adjacent space around him/ are confused. Whirl 11:24 pm I taught his worm to cuss. She beeps. Zori was my accomplice. Blurr 11:24 pm Ah... much better. Windchill 11:24 pm Yeah. Only words she knows are cuss words. And "wub." Blurr 11:24 pm ..Huh. Whirl 11:24 pm *now DOES lift his head, briefly* I'm wub. Blurr 11:24 pm I don't think I've taught Oberyn anything new lately... except not to bite 'Buster. Whirl conks it back down and curls up a little more 11:24 pm Blurr 11:25 pm Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your... worm. Windchill 11:25 pm Anyway. I'm gonna pretend to not know what tearing mechs apart on good days means, because it's convenient in the short term. My worm, yes. I must return to my worm. Blurr 11:26 pm Well... go on. / waves claws / I have relics to steal. Windchill 11:26 pm *Well, she'd be fine with Chill's better half for an evening, but MORE importantly:* Yeah. Whirl's not gonna get any rest with me here. I must go. *Have another dramatic wave.* Whirl 11:27 pm Joke's on you, I'm already asleep. *muffled* Windchill 11:28 pm You say that now, I'm leaving before I get REALLY obnoxious. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:28 pm //Somehow I ain't even tryin' to sleep 'n I been the quietest one outta all you.// *Muffled laugh into his arm.* Windchill 11:28 pm *It's for your own good, Whirl. Easier to avoid embarrassing you with physical contact if Chill's not there.* Whirl 11:29 pm Well, it's not hard to be the quietest one when I'm in the room. ...but I'm still asleep. Windchill 11:29 pm *He is thinking of u, it's just hard to tell.* I'm sick and tired of your lies. *Turns to leave for real, but blows a kiss over his shoulder.* Bye, suckers. ItsyBitsySpyers 11:30 pm //Seeya.// Whirl 11:30 pm Later, loser. Blurr 11:30 pm / wiggles claws/ See you Blurr 11:31 pm (( lemme know when I can close chat. )) Windchill 11:31 pm *Just for that you get a loud raspberry sound before he vanishes. His final revenge.* Whirl 11:32 pm I'm done! o7)) Windchill 11:32 pm (( same lol )) Blurr 11:33 pm ( kay i close room now ) Windchill 11:33 pm (( o7 )) Blurr 11:33 pm ( unless somoene is logging ) VProwl 11:33 pm ((i can stop logging when y'all stop making last-minute comments))

[lahallucinations]

hot and cold

A.N: the tater/aunt judy fic nobody asked for. except maybe @garden-of-succulents

based on this ask: x

“Come on, Mama you have to know of something that’ll help.” Bitty was well near whining now.“Darling you know as much as I call my recipes magic, they can’t magically heal a broken leg. Can’t even heal a broken heart.” “But Ma, he’s been here two weeks already and I know he’s in pain but I want some space. He’s hanging all over Jack like those puck bunnies do.”“Bitty, you should trust Jack and darling,  oh, I can’t believe I’m saying this because Judy is usually about as helpful  as a horse in a hospital but Judy might have a recipe for recovery.”Bitty almost gasped. This was never a thing that he expected out of his mother’s mouth. The rivalry between Judy and Suzanne had existed for as far back as Bitty could remember but he did love his aunt. When he was a kid, his aunt would watch musicals with him on a crappy old VCR while his mom was usually too busy for that. She bought him DVD’s of shows that had become part of the way he saw the world.He wondered if his mom ever blamed her for Bitty turning out gay. She’d never say that, the Bittles weren’t like that but there were subtle looks and innocent comments that said more.Bitty rung Judy after that and caught her up on the situation.She laughed. “Doll, do you think sugar can cure medical problems?”

“If not cure, it can make them heal faster. Aunt Judy, you and I both know that food is powerful and I really want my boyfriend to myself.”

“Huh, well, there is an apricot jam my grandmother used to make. Let me find the recipe, but I’m telling you now, I’m not sure this’ll work.”“Anything is better than that lug of an man all over Jack without letting me have a minute alone.”“I mean, honey, it’s not a bad problem to have. I certainly wouldn’t complain if I had a hunk of an NHL star on my couch.”“So it didn’t work with Daniel?”“Handling a real woman ain’t for everyone Bits.” Bitty hummed in response. They then said goodbye and he hung up. Apricot. He sure hoped the recipe worked.It was a few days later when Bitty brought the jam to Tater who was lying on the couch. “Here try it with some shortbread cookies I whipped up.”Tater ate almost an entire plate.“I’ve gotta say B. You’ve outdone yourself. This is delicious.”Bitty smiled. He might be annoyed at Tater but he was still his friend. “Hey get some sleep okay.”“And it doesn’t hurt?” Jack asked.“Nope. I don’t know what happened.”“What’s going on?” Bitty said.“I don’t know what miracle happened but Tater can walk, eh?”“What?”“Yeah. Watch,” Tater said as he moved his leg around.“Ohmygoditworked.”“What?”“I asked my aunt if she knew of any recipes to help you heal faster cause you know I couldn’t see you in pain,” Bitty was lying through his teeth but white lies made the world go around, “She gave me the recipe for that jam you had yesterday. I didn’t think it would actually work.” “I have to thank her, oh my god. I kept dreaming my hockey career was over. Can you give me her number, I want to thank her.”“Uh... I’m sure it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re back on your feet.”“B. My mother would kill me if I didn’t properly thank her. What does she like? Should I buy her something? But that’s not personal. Should I bring her some flowers? What does she like?”“Tater! She lives in Georgia. I’ll just pass on your thanks.”“I don’t want to be rude, I think I should visit. This is a big deal for me B.”“I mean it is the off-season and we could go with you?” Jack asked.“No, it’s fine. You two are busy, I’ll go myself.”Bitty wasn’t sure what was going on then but Tater was packing, booking plane tickets and that afternoon he took an Uber to the airport. Bitty had called his mother to tell her but he still was unsure about telling Judy, Tater had wanted to surprise her but he still thought it was better if she knew.He ended up doing and after an excited chat with Aunt Judy, Bitty went and collapsed into Jack’s arms. .....

истощениеExhaustion. That’s all Tater’s body had felt like for the past week. The pain seemed to rest deep in each bone of his body. He had almost yelled at the doctor, if only one was broken why did he feel like he had been run over everywhere, multiple times.The doctor had some bullshit about his body adapting that Tater half listened to but currently he felt invigorated.His grandmother used to make him Solyanka, to warm him up during the winter and she always said that warm food made with love, could fix everything. Judy had proven that to be true. A few hours later standing at her doorstep, he wondered whether he should be nervous. Most people would be, but Tater was always ready for anything. He knocked.A woman who had the same light hair as Bitty opened the door. She looked warm and Tater noticed the way her brown eyes twinkled.“Hello, I’m Alexi. Bitty’s friend. This is going to sound crazy but-”“Oh, I know who you are. I have to say Bitty getting me into hockey was amazing. You’re a wonderful player to watch, Mr. Mashkov.” “You knew I was coming?”“Yeah, Bitty didn’t want me to be caught off-guard.” Tater entered the house which smelled like sugar with a hint of lemon. “Oh no please call me Alexi, I came here to thank you, honestly I owe you a lot.” “Darling you owe me nothing, have a cup of tea with me if you really want to thank me.”“I have a gift for you, Keemun tea, it reminds me of home. Though I’ve seen the way Bitty eats, you might need a kilo of sugar to get it down.” Tater grinned at Judy. “Yes, that boy does have a sweet tooth. Let me get you some jam to go with that.” “I thought that was a Russian thing.” “Well, the Russians do know how to appreciate the finer things in life. You want some sponge cake with your tea? Or a biscuit?”“I’m okay with just the tea.”Ten minutes later, tea hot and piping and biscuits waiting to be devoured, Judy said, “So Alexi, tell me is it true you had to run away to play hockey?”“I don’t want to bore you with that.”“I doubt that is a boring story Mr. Mashkov and I promise I will interrupt you if I start falling asleep. Now go.” And so Tater did. He told her stories of his childhood, playing hockey with his dad and uncle and how much that shaped him. She surprised him then and asked, “Is he who put the drive in you?”“What?” Tater didn’t really understand what she meant.“Darling every time a parent discovers that their kid has talent, they turn into goddamn Simon Cowell, trying to make their kid into a star. My parents thought my sister was pretty and boy did they have a field day with that one. They put her in pageants, competitions you name it.”The realization dawns over Alexi. “Bitty’s mom was a beauty queen?”“Oh yes, she was Miss Georgia too. But that’s what I mean by drive, did your father do that for you?”“No. My father he liked rules. Stable. You know. My mother had dreams for me, she was a singer. She taught me how to dream big to take things, because nothing in life will ever be handed to you.”Alexi felt strange, sharing so much. He had only said two things but it felt more open than he had been to anyone in a long time. Sometimes he felt himself become the hockey robot. Giving the same short responses to journalists, fans and recently even friends. Judy poured him another cup. And they talked, their lives were as far apart as they could be. From the cold that could settle in so deep, you wondered whether blood was even able to run through veins anymore, to the heat that cooked you as if you were a rare steak on a barbecue. Their conversation hit deep points but also had its levity. Sometime during their third hour, Alexi brought up learning English through daytime TV.They spent the next hour watching Dr. Phil and then another Judge Judy.Towards the end of the afternoon Tater gets ready to say goodbye and promises to visit soon.“Oh, but you don’t have to spend time with an old lady like me out of obligation, go and live your life. I’m sure you have more exciting things to do.”“I like spending time with you. You’re a genuine person in a world where there aren’t many.”“You too sugar, you too.”“So it’s settled, I’ll be right here tomorrow?”“Actually tomorrow is the farmer’s market. Do you want to experience it? Because it is an experience.” Judy smiled through the sentence.“It’s a date.” Tater said as he left and Judy smiled wider than she had in many years.A part of her felt like a giggling schoolgirl again as she called her sister, partly to tell her that Bitty had wonderful friends and partly to squeal about the NHL star who she had plans with. She felt a rush of excitement, Alexi was a star, but he was also an anchor in way most people could never be. She wasn’t sure whether the had a future but she was eager to find out.

[captain-zajjy]

Solstice, Chapter 29 - A Final Fantasy XV Story

Pairing: Ignis x Female Original Character

AO3 | Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28

A/N: FINALLY hitting the character moment for Ignis that I envisioned when creating this story way back when. I hope it works for you :)

Ignis had wanted to prepare a large breakfast using a few things he’d been saving for a special occasion, but Valeria insisted he do not waste them on her father’s account. So, he served their usual morning meal of dry toast with the thinnest smear of berry preserves. Before Ignis could apologize for the paltry spread, Mr. Soleil smacked his lips and let out a long, contented sigh.

“That sure hit the spot.” He even sounded like he meant it.

“I- it did?” Ignis blurted out.

“Couldn’t even tell you the last time I had bread, to be honest,” Mr. Soleil said. “All they had at Galdin was fish, fish, and more fish.”

After finishing his own toast, Ignis immediately went to the refrigerator and replaced the fish filet he’d set out to thaw with what remained of a behemoth steak Gladio had brought him weeks ago. It was barely enough for two people, let alone three, but Ignis had high hopes that a bit of red meat, however small, would go a long way in impressing the man. Valeria might not have cared what her father thought, but he certainly did.

And so, when Valeria left the two of them to have her first shooting lesson with Prompto, and Mr. Soleil asked Ignis if he’d like to accompany him on a stroll around the market, Ignis was left with a dilemma.

He desperately wanted to show her father that he was capable, that he wasn’t a burden to whom Valeria had to constantly play nursemaid. On the other hand, Ignis still struggled with the cacophony of the market; he hadn’t gone by himself since Valeria had joined him in Lestallum. Have I become too dependent on her? Even if he could manage by himself, short of forcing the man to wear some sort of bell, it would be impossible for Ignis to keep track of Mr. Soleil in the crowd.

Putting his pride aside, Ignis nodded. “I shall join you.” He wanted to spend time with this man, the father of the woman he loved, get to know him and, Gods willing, obtain his approval.

Ignis donned his gloves and took up his cane, easily following behind Mr. Soleil in the familiar confines of the apartment building.

When the stink of the city streets assailed his nostrils, Ignis cleared his throat and stuck out his hand, moving it up Mr. Soleil’s back to grip his shoulder.

“If it’s not too much of a bother…”

He felt Mr. Soleil shrug in response. “Not using that shoulder for much, anyway.” His body was tense at first, as it always went with people guiding Ignis for the first time, but quickly relaxed when it became apparent that the only thing Ignis required of him was to proceed as he normally would.

“I can usually manage on my own,” Ignis heard himself say. “It’s just that with the crowds and maze of the market, it’s difficult to keep track of one’s companion, and I believe Valeria would be very cross with me if I lost her father on his second day, so I-” He knew he was babbling, and clamped his mouth shut. “I very much appreciate the assistance.”

Again, Mr. Soleil shrugged. “Not a problem, son.” Did he really not care? He certainly sounded indifferent, but Ignis felt that old specter of self-doubt rear its ugly head once more. Was he not thinking, ‘this is what my daughter has to put up with every day?’ Blast you, Ignis said to the intrusive thoughts.

“So tell me - how does a son of Tenebrae come to serve the Lucian crown?” Mr. Soleil asked as they set out down the street.

It was a question Ignis had been asked many times before. “I was a small child when I immigrated to Lucis,” he explained. “It’s the only home I’ve ever known.”

“So you got out of Tenebrae before the Niffs moved in, huh?”

Ignis nodded. “Had I not, I suspect I would have perished during the Empire’s Purges.” That had always struck him as the bitterest irony: he was alive today because his parents had died then, before the Empire had taken the country and eradicated the ruling class.

“Blue blood, eh?” Mr. Soleil asked.

“A minor noble house,” Ignis admitted. “And now, a nonexistent one, since the Empire abolished all titles and seized all holdings.” He knew he ought to feel some kind of sadness when speaking of the fate of the country where he was born, but, in truth, he felt very little. His uncle had said nothing when the news broke back on that fateful day over a decade ago, but had appeared ashen-faced, cleaning their already-tidy apartment in an aimless, mechanical way, like the walking dead. Ignis had not been able to understand, not until another fateful day in the near-past, when Insomnia was taken.

“Damn,” Mr. Soleil muttered. “They even killed the kids?”

“Root and stem.” There was a logic in that - cold and cruel, as logic often was - and part of Ignis loathed himself for being able to see it.

“Did you like your job?”

Such a simple question, and yet it nearly knocked Ignis off his feet. Did I... like it? It was his duty; his personal feelings were irrelevant. And yet, here was someone asking, by all appearances in earnest.

“It...it was my whole world. For better or for worse.” Ignis knew that wasn’t an answer, but it was the best he could come up with.

Of course he liked it. Everytime Noctis asked for his counsel and heeded it, he liked it. Every time King Regis had favored him with an approving nod for a task completed, he liked it. Every time he did something that, in its own small, insignificant way benefited the people of Lucis, he liked it.

And he loathed it. Noct’s apartment covered in trash, the calls just as he’d finally settled into bed, the disparaging looks from the Lucian uppercrust at the foreigner who’d been chosen over their own flesh and blood to serve the Prince. At least he wouldn’t have to suffer that last one any longer.

“Never been one to hold down a job for long, myself,” Mr. Soleil said. “I know, I know - try to contain your surprise.” Now that they were in the thick of the market, he frequently stopped and paused, humming tunelessly to himself.

“May I ask what you’re shopping for?” Ignis asked.

“You can, but I ain’t gonna tell ya. It’s a surprise.”

Ignis frowned. “I believe Valeria will be rather vexed by a ‘surprise.’”

“Oh, yeah,” Mr. Soleil replied, flippant. “And this way, you can tell her you didn’t know anything about it.” He clapped Ignis on the back. “Just looking out for you, son. I know she can be nasty when she’s mad.”

Well, yes . Ignis knew better than to agree with him out loud.

“Still, not half as bad as her mother,” Mr. Soleil added offhandedly with a low whistle. “That woman, Gods rest her soul, could punch you in the gut, then kick you in the balls with a single sentence.”

Ignis lowered his voice. “You have my condolences on your loss.”

“We all lost something that day.” Ignis surmised that, glib as he was, Mr. Soleil’s former wife was an understandably sensitive subject.

“Indeed.” We all lost something....starting with our innocence.

“You’re probably wondering how someone like her ended up with someone like me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to pry…” But, yes. Ignis had wondered that from the moment he’d met the man all those years ago.

“Yeah, me too, kid. Me too. Ol’ Viv sure was a piece of work. Ambitious, smart as a whip - I didn’t mind living in her shadow - that was alright.” He cleared his throat. “Once the company started getting real big she changed - or maybe that was who she really was all along. Hell, I don’t know. I just couldn’t take being treated like one of her damn employees, you know? But, she was the mother of my child. And for that, Vivienne will always be important to me.”

Mr. Soleil stopped abruptly. “Ohh,” he said. “Here’s what I’m talking about.” Ignis sidled alongside the older man as he chatted with the vendor, trying to make himself less obtrusive to the aimless throng of passers-by. He didn’t think many people actually did much shopping anymore - the market was simply a place to go, to idle away the hours until one’s next paltry meal, to stave off the overwhelming sense of loneliness and hopelessness that pervaded the city’s population.

“Barter only,” the vendor said off to Ignis’s left, as something metallic clinked on the counter. “Don’t have any use for money these days.”

“A wise man,” Mr. Soleil crooned. “But this isn’t gil. This here’s ancient Solheim money, genuine, one hundred percent silver.”

“Don’t have much use for silver either.”

“Oh, but you will!” Mr. Soleil’s voice radiated confidence, assurance. “Silver’s an investment in your future. When all this is over, who knows what the gil will be worth, if anything. But silver? Always worth something! Way more than just these few things here.”

Ignis heard something rattle as it slid across the counter.

“Hmm…” the vendor responded.

“Alright, alright. You’ve got me.” Another coin clinked as it was set down. “Double or nothing.”

“Fine,” the vendor relented. Ignis tried not to chuckle at how thoroughly the man had been foxed.

“Thanks for doing business, my man.” There was the rustling sound of a paper bag, and then Mr. Soleil gave Ignis a nudge. Ignis placed his hand back on the man’s shoulder and they continued on their way.

“A silver tongue runs in the family, I see,” Ignis mused.

“Heh, well...I ain’t good at much - or anything, really. Just talking to people.”

“An extremely valuable skill, under any circumstances.”

“Eh. I guess.” Mr. Soleil paused. “Hey. Isn’t that my daughter’s necklace?”

“Oh.” Ignis resisted the urge to bring his hand up to the chain around his throat. “Well, I...she, er, gave it to me.”

“Ohhh.” The sing-songy way Mr. Soleil crooned reminded Ignis of Prompto. At least he isn’t angry. “You two go way back, then?”

“Since the Academy. First year.”

“That’s a good thing to have these days. Someone you know you can trust, that ain’t gonna go up and bonkers on you.”

“Indeed.” Ignis nodded, ruminating on just how fortunate he’d been in that regard. Not only did he have Valeria, but the Amicitias, Prompto, the Marshal - all people he’d known for years, people whose intentions he never had to second-guess.

With his shopping concluded, Ignis took Mr. Soleil to pick up his ration vouchers, explaining how Valeria had played a pivotal role in establishing the food bank that now fed the entire city. On the way home, they stopped somewhere - Ignis wasn’t entirely sure where, exactly - to sit on a curb and ‘people watch,’ which seemed like it would be terribly depressing, but since Mr. Soleil was apparently quite keen on it, Ignis went along.

Since he obviously could not watch the passersby, Ignis instead worked on drumming up the bravery to ask a very important question.

“Sir, I…” Ignis plucked at his collar, nerves suddenly causing his stomach to churn. “I would like to ask your permission to court your daughter.”

Mr. Soleil let out a hearty guffaw, and Ignis’s dark thoughts immediately began to swirl. Is that really such a laughable request? Have I read him all wrong?

“Damn, kid. You really are old-fashioned, aren’t you?”

“Er-”

Mr. Soleil clapped a hand on Ignis’s shoulder. “Here’s some advice - typically, you wanna ask that question before sharing a bed with the lady in question.” Ignis felt his face flush hot, stammering out something that was half-apology and half-explanation, making very little sense.

“You’re both adults,” Mr. Soleil went on, still chuckling. “Only person’s permission you need is hers. Besides, it ain’t like she ever cared what I thought before.”

“I care,” Ignis asserted, despite his embarrassment. He knew her mother never would have approved, and even less so now. But there was still hope for her father.

Mr. Soleil’s laughter tapered off into a lengthy silence. “Huh,” he finally said, sounding more surprised than amused. “You sure are an odd one. But if you want my blessing or whatever, then okay. I know people, and I can tell you’re one of the good ones. Odd, but good.”

Ignis felt relief flooding his limbs and warmth filling his chest. Good. A good person . He’d never really thought of himself as such; he was just someone who had the fortune to serve good masters.

“Er...thank you, sir. Thank you.”

Although Valeria had serious reservations about leaving Ignis alone with her father, it wasn’t in her nature to break off an appointment at the last minute, especially when Prompto had so generously offered his time and expertise, asking for nothing in return. Before leaving, Ignis had reminded her that he was able to advocate for himself - his very polite way of telling her to back off.

Valeria sighed as she made her way to the high school. What was the worst her father could really do to Ignis? Make a cruel joke at his expense? Maybe she was just projecting her own fears onto him. Because her father had hurt her, cut her down to the core, and he could absolutely do it again - if she let him. I’m not a little girl anymore, she reminded herself. I don’t need him anymore. What a lie that was.

Fortunately, Prompto provided a welcome distraction. “No Iggy?” he asked after greeting her.

“He’s entertaining a guest,” she replied, praying Prompto didn’t nose into the matter further. He whistled, but let it go, and she followed him to the school’s gymnasium.

“Got the place to ourselves for the next hour,” he said. Toward the back of the large room, a human-sized target had been strung up on a crude pulley system between the basketball hoops. Upon further inspection, she saw that the target was a photograph of an older man, blown up to life-size, its subject sporting auburn hair, a striped scarf, and a sickeningly smug grin.

“Ardyn,” Prompto explained, his usual sunny disposition suddenly uncharacteristically dark.

It took Valiera a moment to place the name. “The Imperial Chancellor.”

“Uh-huh.” Prompto had turned his attention to loading his special rubber bullets into a small revolver.

She turned back to the photo. “This guy is the Chancellor? He looks like a bum.” He wasn’t wearing a uniform, not even a badge of office.

“He is a bum. And a lot of other words Iggy says I shouldn’t say in front of a lady. So-” Prompto handed her the gun, then took a step behind her. “Put a couple between his eyes for me, will you?”

Valeria turned the weapon over in her hands and exhaled deeply, trying to recall what she’d been taught back in high school. Target shooting, along with archery and fencing, had been part of the physical education curriculum, not to train future soldiers or even for self-defense, but because, for Insomnia’s elite, such things were - or had been - considered leisure activities, sport, a way to pass the hours when you had no real obligations on your time.

She raised the gun, both hands on the grip, and took aim at the Chancellor’s forehead. After taking a few moments to calm herself, she squeezed the trigger. The noise and the recoil startled her, jerking her arms backward. After composing herself, Valeria turned toward the target, noting a small hole along the man’s hairline. Okay, not exactly between the eyes.

Valeria shook her head, let her heart rate come down, this time aiming lower. By the time the six rounds were spent, she had decent grouping in the target’s face.

“Hey, that’s pretty good!” Prompto handed her six more rounds, which she loaded much slower and more clumsily than he had. When she looked up, Prompto was behind her near the basketball hoop, tugging on a string.

“How about a moving target?” The cut out of the Chancellor danced along the rope as Prompto pulled it. Oh Gods …

Valeria tried to track the movement with the barrel of the gun, but her first two shots missed the target entirely. Then she tried leading it, but went too far, ending up with only two of the six shots hitting the Chancellor at all - in the side of his arm.

“Well, you winged him.” Prompto gave her an encouraging smile and handed over more rounds. They repeated this until his supply of rubber bullets was spent, and Valeria stared at the target in frustration as Prompto gathered up the spent casings and rounds to be reused. In all of that shooting, she’d hit the target in the chest exactly once, and the majority of her shots had missed it entirely.

“I’m terrible at this,” she said with disgust. There were few things she hated more than failure.

“What?” Prompto said. “It was your first time!”

“Yeah.” Valeria gestured at the target. “And I’m terrible.”

“Oh, come on. Nobody’s good at stuff their first time.”

I am, she thought. And if I’m not, I don’t do it again.

“You’re too tense.” Prompto pointed at the target, encouraging her to take aim with the unloaded gun. “See, your shoulders are up at your ears. Just relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax if this thing were trying to kill me?”

Prompto chuckled. “Just like Iggy. Overthinking everything. You just gotta keep practicing.”

Valeria handed the gun back over with a deep frown. “Thanks, Prompto. Sorry I’m such a crappy pupil.”

“Bah.” Prompto threw up his hands. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Hey, you wanna see something cool I’ve been working on?”

“Okay,” she said slowly, wondering just what she might be getting herself into.

Prompto led her to a small classroom on the second floor. Most of the student desks had been removed or pushed aside, the teacher’s desk and floor were littered with an assortment of wires and electronics.

“Just gimme a sec to get it set up.” As Prompto scuttled about, Valeria turned toward the front of the classroom. Someone (likely Prompto) had drawn a chocobo pecking at a stick figure whose hair was reminiscent of Prince Noctis on the chalkboard.

Next to that was a bulletin board, the border of which was decorated with a colorful pattern made from layered construction paper and a various shapes of a hole punch. If something had been hanging there before, Prompto must’ve taken it down, and replaced it with photos that had to have been taken while he and the others had been on the road for Prince Noctis’s wedding.

Some were posed, many were candid, and Valeria was struck by just how content they all looked in one another’s company. A shot of all four of them with their car at Hammerhead Garage, Gladio leaning on Noctis outside of a diner, Ignis sitting by a campfire drinking his coffee. She knew that while these photos were taken she had been stuck in Insomnia, frightened and hurt, still reeling from the loss of her mother, but Valeria didn’t begrudge them their tranquility here. She was glad Ignis and the others had been able to have this time and these experiences together, knowing what misery the world had in store for them later.

“Those were the best times of my life,” Prompto said, standing next to her, looking at his photos with a faraway smile. “Sometimes I still can’t believe they let me tag along.”

Valeria tore her gaze away from the photo of Ignis and turned to him. “Is that why you joined the Crownsguard? Adventure?”

“Nah,” Prompto replied. “Noct’s my best friend. A job that’s basically just hanging out with him all the time? It seemed too good to be true, but it wasn’t.”

“It must be hard for you now.”

Prompto shrugged. “He’s gonna come back. Until then…” He gestured at the photographs. “And I’ve started tinkering with things to keep myself busy. Check this out.”

Prompto had cleared the teacher’s desk, leaving only two rectangular lights the size of her fist, crudely linked together with electrical tape, wires spilling out the back and hooked to a pair of large batteries.

“Are those...flashes? Like, for a camera?”

“Yup!” Prompto replied. “Studio grade. Super bright. My first idea was to convert them to something like a flashlight, but it drained the battery way too fast. So, I slowed down the timing on the flash so that it fires for a couple of seconds, instead of like, half of one. It still needs some tuning, but right now I can get about five shots out of one battery.”

“Huh.” Valeria took a closer look at the device. “For daemons?”

“Yep. Got the idea after we fought that monster one back at the Fort. A few seconds of light probably won’t kill the big guys, but it should mess ‘em up pretty good.”

Valeria imagined it was similar to dousing someone in boiling water - even if it cooled right away, the damage was already done. “So, you won’t have to be Gladiolus to finish them off.”

Prompto snapped his fingers. “Exactly. Here, let me show you.” She joined Prompto behind the desk, and he leaned forward to flip the switch. “Uh, you might want to cover your eyes.”

“Then how can I see how it works?”

“Just sayin.” With one hand over his eyes - and his face turned away - he flipped the switch. The room instantly filled with brilliant white light, so bright she felt it searing through her eyes and right into her brain. Valeria shrieked and brought her hands up to her face, but it was too late. Her vision swam with white and yellow and violet starbursts, her head throbbed, and she clung to the desk to keep herself upright.

“Gods, Prompto!”

“I warned you!” he said. “But...it’s pretty cool, right?”

Valeria rubbed at her eyes. Splotches of the classroom began to return here and there, but her vision still swam with the blinding light. “I think that ought to do it. Stars above,” she muttered. She was still seeing them. “Don’t you think you should have safety glasses or something if you’re going to work on this stuff?”

“What, like goggles?”

Valeria sighed, wiping her watering eyes. “Goggles, sure. They make them like normal glasses too - or, they used to anyway. You seriously work on electronics without any safety gear?”

“I like to wing it,” he replied with a grin. How are you even still alive ? “I think I might have put some gloves or something in the desk.”

Shaking her head, Valeria began to rifle through the drawers. She found a large amount of school supplies - markers, glue, paper punches in various shapes - and eventually pulled out a clunky pair of clear goggles missing the strap.

“I’ll take this stuff to the market,” she said, putting the things in her jacket pockets. “See if I can’t trade it for some actual safety gear.” Now that she was finally able to see clearly again, she favored Prompto with a smile. “This is a really good idea, Prompto.”

“Oh, well…” He rubbed a hand over his reddening neck. “Just messing around, really.”

“I’m serious. This can save lives. Just... don’t hurt yourself in the process, okay?”

Valeria returned home to find Ignis in the kitchen and her father in the window sill, the top half of his body concealed behind the blinds. Before she could even ask, Ignis greeted her.

“Welcome back, my dear. How was your lesson?”

“It was...not good,” she admitted, never taking her eyes from her father. The only thing worse than being bad at something was having to admit she was bad at something.

As Ignis began to offer some words of encouragement, her father chuckled and hopped out of the window. “So, what - you miss the target once or twice?”

“A lot more than twice. What the hell are you doing?”

“I asked several times,” Ignis said from the kitchen. “He wouldn’t say.”

“Yeah, so don’t yell at him.”

Valeria crossed her arms over her chest. “Just tell me.”

“This, pumpkin - this here is a gold mine.” Her father pulled up the blinds and lifted a terracotta pot almost reverently. A small lamp had been placed next to it on the sill, which she immediately identified as a UV lamp meant to mimic the lost light of the sun.

“A planter?” Valeria asked skeptically.

“Seeds.” Her father poked his finger into the soft soil filling the pot. “Tobacco.”

“Tobacco?” She let out a noise of disgust. “Really, Dad? Not food?”

“Alas.” Ignis let out a crestfallen sigh. “What I wouldn’t give for some fresh herbs…”

“Not half as what the nicotine addicts will pay when the cigarettes run out,” her father quipped, a shit-eating grin on his face. Just another one of his idiotic schemes.

“Like you’re not going to keep it all for yourself,” Valeria muttered.

“Well…” Her father winked. “You never know. Might be room for another pot or two here, too. As you’ll see,” he made an exaggerated demonstrative gesture, “everything’s tucked away, nothing underfoot. You won’t even notice it’s here.”

Except for the ridiculously bright lamp, Valeria thought with a frown, although she knew her father wasn’t really referring to her. All the things he’d acquired, even the bag of potting soil, were gathered on the window sill, and the cord of the lamp had been taped against the wall - an eyesore, but not a tripping hazard, and that was all she really cared about.

With no real reason to chastise her father further, Valeria was forced to relent. After he finished raving about their afternoon meal, she told both men about Prompto’s invention - and his apparent lack of safety concerns. The three of them spent the rest of the evening listening to the radio; Valeria and Ignis were beyond sick of the reruns, but her father laughed at every joke.

That night, laying in bed, she shamelessly watched as Ignis undressed, feeling her pulse quicken as the broad muscles in his shoulders and back worked and rippled as he moved. She remembered back in high school when she’d first noticed his shoulders and chest getting wider, noticed just how much taller he was becoming relative to her, and the multitude of strange, confusing feelings that accompanied those observations, feelings she had kept deep inside for so long. And now, if it hadn’t been for her damned father, already sound asleep and snoring a few feet away on the couch, she could have acted upon those feelings at long last.

Valeria couldn’t help her disappointment when Ignis covered his bare torso with a thin undershirt and crawled into bed alongside her. Swallowing all those things down, as she had time and again, she rolled onto her side, facing Ignis as he laid down on his back.

“Okay,” she began, her voice low. “Tell me how it really was being stuck with him all day.”

Ignis’s lips parted in concern. “Your father,” he whispered. “He’s...he’s right there.”

“Can’t you hear him snoring? He’s not going to wake up unless we start shouting. Trust me.”

“I suppose ‘snoring’ is relative, but if you say so,” Ignis muttered. “It was a perfectly pleasant day. Truly.”

Valeria’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?” She studied Ignis’s face, striped by soft orange light that filtered in through the slats in the blinds. He didn’t look like he was lying. “He didn’t call you names and do everything in his power to embarass you?”

“He can be a bit crass,” Ignis admitted. “But there’s no malice in it. Don’t you think you’re being a bit hard on him?”

Valeria frowned. “He left me. He abandoned me.”

“I’m not saying he hasn’t made mistakes in the past,” Ignis said, shifting so that he could wrap an arm around her back. “But given all that’s happened in the last year, I consider it a small miracle not only that you’re both alive, but have managed to find one another here.”

Valeria bit her lip. She knew he was right. “It scares me,” she admitted.

Ignis reached out with his other hand to stroke her cheek. “Why?”

“Because he hurt me. And I...if I let him in, what if he does it again?”

Ignis let out a knowing sigh and pulled her close. “You are strong. I suspect you can handle just about anything this world will throw at you. I admit I don’t know him well, but I believe he cares for you. I really do.” Valeria felt her lip begin to tremble and buried her face into Ignis’s neck. “Oh… Have I upset you?” He ran his fingers through her hair.

“It’s just a lot,” she said, managing to keep herself from crying. Valeria didn’t even fully understand all the overwhelming emotional baggage that accompanied the topic of her father, let alone possess the ability to articulate it. “I…” She’d already forced herself to face daemons - was her father really so frightening? “Okay, Iggy. I’ll try. But old habits might be kind of hard to break.”

“Ah,” he said after planting a soft kiss on her temple. “They really are, aren’t they? Even so, I’d daresay that if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Valeria snorted. “I think your opinion of me is a little inflated, but thanks.”

Ignis smiled as they fell silent, appreciating the quiet comfort of each other’s company. After a while, he spoke. “Am I really your boyfriend now?”

Valeria couldn’t help but laugh. “That didn’t get past you, huh?”

“Few things do,” he replied with a smirk.

“Well…” Valeria nuzzled her head into his chest. “Of course you are - if you want to be. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Perhaps such an admission should have been accompanied by embarrassment, or apprehension that her feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated, but for Valeria, it was simply stating a fact. There was nothing to fear, because she knew Ignis felt the same. She turned her head to see him swallowing hard, adam’s apple bobbing at his throat.

“That is…” Ignis’s voice was trembling, and she could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The last thing she had expected was to distress him.

Valeria propped herself up on an elbow to get a better look at his face. “What is it?”

“I…” Ignis cleared his throat. “I never thought I was someone who could be loved.” Valeria began to speak, but he shook his head, so she let him continue. “All these years, I contented myself with being needed. I… I thought that would be enough. It would have to be enough, because I-” His voice broke.

“Oh, Iggy…” Valeria wrapped her arms around him, planting kisses along his scarred cheek. “You are loved - not just by me. Gladio, Prompto, Prince Noctis - they’re your friends. They don’t just need you; they love you. We all love you.” Different kinds of love, but one was no less valuable than another.

“When I was injured, my friends, they… I was helpless. I could do nothing for them, but they stood by me.” A tear formed in the corner of his right eye, and Valeria wiped it away with her index finger. “When they wanted me to stay behind - and I know it was only out of concern for my well-being - I couldn’t bear it. I knew it was foolish, and it was dangerous, but it was as if all my fears were being realized: I was useless, no longer needed. The only value I saw in myself was in what I could do for others. If I was needed, then at least I...I wouldn’t be alone. ”

Looking at the man now, Valeria could see the boy who still lived buried deep inside, small and frightened and solitary, and her heart broke for that child who had lost his parents and his home, thrust into a strange new city filled with unfamiliar faces. Even if her mother had sometimes made it feel like her love was conditional, even if her father had made it seem like his love was only available when it was convenient for him, Valeria still knew her parents cared. They were still there, in her life, even if it wasn’t always when and how she wanted them to be.

Ignis might not have had that as a child, but he had a family now. Her, and the Amicitias, Prompto and Talcott, and of course, Prince Noctis.

“You’re not useless, Iggy. I need you,” she whispered, rubbing his cheek. “I need you, and I love you.”

“You don’t need me,” Ignis said, sounding almost pleased. “If something were to happen to me, you might grieve, but you would get by. You could take care of yourself. You wouldn’t end up taking ill from the mound of trash accumulating in your living room.”

In spite of the seriousness of the conversation, Valeria giggled.

“That was only half a joke,” Ignis went on. “There was a time - a long time - when, if I didn’t do Noct’s chores, they simply wouldn’t get done. And I suppose I encouraged that, enabled his laziness in a way, to ensure that he continued to need me.”

“But he’s your friend.” Ignis’s hairstyle had begun to come undone, and Valeria pushed away the stray locks that had fallen forward into his face. “You don’t have to do anything like that so that he’ll keep you around.”

Ignis’s lips quirked upward in a smile, a smile that was tinged with sadness. “I- Yes. I understand that now. It certainly took me a while, but I understand, and I want to show him that when he returns. I want to thank him for being my friend.”

“I’m sure he knows.”

“And you.” Ignis turned his head toward her, his hazy right eye looking through her, into the darkness only he could see. “Thank you. Thank you. For loving me, and for showing me that I am someone worthy of love.”

Now she was crying. Despite her best efforts to keep them contained, the tears began to fall. Ignis held her and kissed her softly on the mouth, and for this moment, at least inside the space of their narrow little bed, it felt like everything was finally as it should be and all was right with the world. Like all the terrible things that she’d seen and felt were somehow alright, because they’d led her to this time and place, in the arms of the man she adored.

“When this is all over,” Ignis said, wiping the moisture from Valeria’s cheeks. “Well, I hope you haven’t grown tired of me by then.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“It is my job - my duty - to advise the King of Lucis. Not to do his laundry. Anyone can do those mundane chores.” Ignis paused for a moment before continuing. “He will be surrounded by sycophants and people trying to further their own interest. What Noct will require isn’t a servant, but a friend, with whom he can speak plainly, and trust to tell him the truth, to keep him grounded. Which is all to say, I will no longer be working sixteen hours a day. Of course, if you still want to-”

“No,” Valeria said quickly, grinning from ear to ear. “That was a life someone else wanted for me. I want to help rebuild Lucis, but I want to be with you, too. And since everyone else seems to be able to balance work with their personal lives, I think we’ll be able to figure it out.”

Ignis was smiling as broadly as she was. “Yes. Yes, indeed.”

[jasperrollswrites]

Barracuda Street

Another story from quite a while back, and better than the previous story in my opinion. It was originally going to be a 10-part story in which a young man became progressively more monstrous with each cigar he smoked - the plan I wrote down at the time would’ve had it going some really weird places. But, my procrastination got the better of me, and I never wrote the follow up chapters, so this is all there is. A writer I admire and took quite a bit of inspiration from recently complimented it, so it must still be kind of good.

Jeremiah’s mother always told him to never go down Barracuda street, and for 19 years, Jeremiah obeyed. And then one day, he disobeyed...and everything changed.

———————

I used to be a nice kid. You wouldn't believe it, lookin' at me now, but when I was a young'un, I was a little angel. I did my homework, finished my chores, went to church, and always listened to what my momma said. And one of the things she always said was that I should never go anywhere near Barracuda Street. Even though it was the quickest way back home, my momma always told me never to go through there, no matter the situation. Even if I was late home, even if there was somethin' I REALLY needed to tell her, never ever go through Barracuda Street.

Once, as she was puttin' me to bed, I bothered to ask her why. I don't know what it was. She'd always kept me on a tight leash, but something about her almost constant lectures about me never goin' near that place must have...ah...how do you say it? "Piqued my intellectual curiosity"...or what little of it I had. I'd never questioned her like that before, and when I did...boy, she wasn't at all sure how to react. I'd always just been a good boy, taken everything she said at first glance. So she took a deep breath, and turned to me.

"No, momma."

"Well, you did. And he was a good boy, just like you. He always did his homework, finished all his chores, went to church, and he listened to me." She gave a wistful sigh, remembering this brother I never knew I had. "But I never told him not to go near Barracuda Street."

"Why, momma?" I asked.

"Because, back then, I didn't know how dangerous Barracuda Street was. And one day, he decided to take go through it. I'd never told him not to. It wasn't against the rules. And that was when I lost him."

"You lost him?"

Momma nodded solemnly. "Some men, some bad men, they came to him, and they seemed nice enough. But they started fillin' his head with all these bad ideas. Fillin' him with sin. He started to disobey. He became a bad kid. I lost him. One day, he went to Barracuda Street, and he never came back."

Well, I was shakin' in my jammies by this point. As far as I was concerned, Barracuda Street was hell itself. "He never came back?" I whispered.

"I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since then." Momma told me. "That was 14 years ago. And when I had you, Jeremiah, I swore that I'd never let the same thing happen to you. So that's why you don't go near Barracuda Street. Okay?"

"Yes, momma." I whispered.

I was only 8 years old, then. But in time, I grew up. I got older, I learnt more, but I was always devoted to my momma. And I always remembered that story whenever I saw Barracuda Street. Over time, I began to believe that it was made up, that I'd never had a brother, that it was just somethin' she said to spook me, but I got why. It was a scary place, full o' dem gangster types. If I'd gone through there when I was just a little innocent boy, I would've gone exactly the same way as that imaginary brother o' mine.

I grew up, takin' after my pop. He was a short fella, and so was my momma, so I was sorta average too. Just a neat little 5 foot 3. I always kept my muddy brown hair straight and well kept, and I always dressed as smart as I could for my work. It was a little laborious, so just a white shirt and some grey shorts were good enough. I kept myself clean as I could.

And then I turned 19. It was my birthday, but I was still just as dumb and blindly trusting of my momma's word than ever. I'd spent a night out with summa my work friends, goin' to a swing party, but I left early. I wanted to be home with momma before 11. They'd made fun of me, callin' me momma's boy, and they were right. I was a momma's boy, but I was happy to be one. I made my way through the dark streets. The city was a different place at night, and I didn't want to be out too long. I'd been walkin' for some time, when I finally got to the corner of Barracuda Street. I checked my watch. It was 11:50.

The route I usually took would get me home in half an hour. But if I went down that street, I could be home in just 10. I was sure momma would understand. I could just take a quick run through the place and be gone. Besides, I was a grown man. I was sure I could handle myself.

Boy...I was wrong.

I was walking down, about halfway when I heard a little "Psst." come from an alley on my right. Immediately, I sped up.

"Hey. Hey, where ya goin'?" A voice like slick oil came from behind me. I turned. There was a short fella with jet black hair, wearing a sharp white suit, grinnin' at me.

"N-Nowhere, sir." I stammered. "I just want to get home, thank you." I turned away, and walked right into another guy. Someone a good, 3, 4 inches taller than me was standin' in front of me, dressed to the nines in an all black, suit, the polar opposite of his friend behind me. I tried to back away, but he grabbed my shoulder with a big hand.

"Hey, kid. You should watch where you're walkin'." A low growl rumbled from the big guy.

"Hey, hey, hey, he's okay." The grinning guy behind me walked over and put a hand on the big fella. "Don't scare him off. We don't want him thinking this is a bad place, do we?"

"Yeah, I guess not. But you better watch it." He said to me, letting go. I took my chance and began to continue on my way home.

"Hey, kid, where ya goin? Sit a while, why don't ya?" The white suited fella ran up behind me, putting a casual hand on my shoulder.

"I, I'm just heading home from a party. I'd rather be back before 11, thank you." I blurted out, trying to just get away as quick as I could.

"A party? What party? Why'd you leave so early?" The guy said. He seemed genuinely interested.

"Oh...uh...it's, just my 19th birthday. Nothing special." I replied.

The big guy spoke up in his low grumble of a voice. "It's ya birthday? Why didn't ya say so? We should treat ya."

"Yeah," his friend agreed. "Get 'im one o' them cigars, Benny. The special ones." 'Benny' nodded, turning away and going down an alley.

"I...I don't smoke." I said, nervously.

"Well, then you're not livin'!" the smooth talker said, as he guided me onto the steps outside someone's house, and sat me down. "Cigars are one o' this world's finest pleasures. You'll love it, trust me." He sat down next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder, like we'd been best friends for life. "What's ya name?"

"J...Jeremiah. Jeremiah Fitz."

"Jeremy, eh? That's an okay name."

"Jeremiah."

"I'm Finn. The big guy is Benny. Speak of the devil." I looked up. Benny was there, with a box in hand. It was really fancy lookin', like something you'd keep a special treasure in. He opened the lid, revealing ten cigars, perfectly slotted in the box. Finn picked one out, and Benny closed the box, sittin' next to me as Finn cut the tip off the end of the cigar with a switchblade he'd pulled from his jacket pocket, and held it towards me

"I...I really don't smoke." I whispered.

"Then no better time like the present, Jerry." Finn announced, sticking it in my open mouth. It was bigger than I could've guessed, feeling bizarre in my mouth.

"M..My name is Jer...Jeremiah." I struggled to get the words out around the cigar. I wanted to spit it out, but I was scared Benny would take it a very wrong way. I heard the sound of a match catching light, and looked at Finn, to see him lighting the end of the cigar.

"Now, what you do, Jerry, is you breath in, and let it get in ya mouth. Since this is ya first time, try not to do it too much." Benny started. "Just breath in a little bit, and then breathe out. If ya want, you can breathe out through ya nose. You get a better taste, that way."

I slowly put my fingers around the cigar, and drew in a tiny breath...and instantly, I took the cigar out, coughin' and hackin'. It tasted like shit, to me.

"Hey, you ain't gonna get no taste coughin' it out." Benny said.

"I..." I spluttered, coughing again. "I don't think I'm going to like the taste, Mr. Benny."

"Nonsense." Finn cut in. "Sure, it tastes like shit now, but it's like...ah...what's the name of that...that food everyone hates at first but then they love it? I think it's a cheese or somethin'."

"Gorgonzola?" Benny asked.

"Yeah. That's the one. Gorgonzola. Right now, you hate it, but by the time you got to the end of this one, you'll be clamourin' for more. Go on, take another drag."

I stared at the cigar, afraid. I hated it. It made me wanna cough my lungs out. And yet somethin'...somethin' was tellin' me I should just give it another try. At least finish this one. I never had to have another one if I didn't want to. So I raised it to my lips again, and began breathing in again. It was only a little bit, and it made me want to cough, but I tried to hold it in. What I didn't realise was that this cigar was changin' more than my tolerance.

I had still been wearin' my shoes from work. They used to be smart lookin', but after spendin' a good 2 years walking around in the dirt, they'd gotten all scuffed up and dirty. But as I'd taken that second drag, something began changin'. The dirt and grime they'd built up started to fade away, like it had never been there. The shape o' them began changin' too. Before, they'd been slip-ons, loafers, but now they were takin' on a new style. Shoelaces grew outta them, like vines on a brick wall, tying themselves into a neat knot. They took on a perfect shine, like I'd polished them every single day, my whole life, and as I breathed out that breath of cigar smoke, my loafers had turned into venetians.

I wasn't aware of this at the time, mind you. You generally don't look at yer feet when yer smokin' yer first cigar.

"See, it ain't so bad." Finn said to me. "You're gettin' the hang of it. Take another drag."

"Yeah, man, it's ya birthday." Benny followed up.

I smiled inside a little. They liked me. For some reason, I wanted them to like me. I wasn't at all sure what my momma had been tellin' me before. These guys were just fine. I began to breathe in again, letting the smoke flow into my mouth. It was the same amount as the last couple of times, but now I didn't want to choke. I felt like I could take it, so I let a little more in...and more about me changed.

As I savoured the taste of the smoke on my tounge, my gut began filling out, just a little bit. Where before, I'd been as thin as a stick, I began to gain weight. My thighs began to fill out my shorts, which themselves were changin', just like my shoes. The boyish lookin' shorts began growing down my legs, their rough fibres turnin' into smooth silk, black, designer suit trousers, matching my new venetians. As I breathed out, I grew wider, my shoulders broadening, my thin arms beginning to gain some ever so slight muscle. The rough belt that had once adorned my shorts morphed, becomin' a thinner, smarter lookin kinda belt...and it was slacking up, as my thin stomach began to turn chubby, my thighs and ass began to expand just a little bit, filling out my new digs bit by bit.

"Th...that's...actually..." I stammered...I was beginning to enjoy the cigar, to my own surprise.

"Ya see? I told ya, Jerry, you'd like it by the end."

"I-it's Jeremy." I looked down at myself. I couldn't see that I'd gotten bigger, but I definitely noticed something else.

"H...hey...where are my shorts?"

"Shorts?" Finn asked.

"Y-yeah...I was...wearing shorts..." My head felt cloudy, as if the cigar smoke was blockin' my own memory.

"You sure? Benny replied. "You was wearin' those when we first saw ya."

"W...Was I?"

"Definitely. Does it matter? Yer smokin a cigar."

The cigar. Of course. It was all I could think about at that moment. I raised it to my lips once more, beginning to take a much longer drag, like I had been smoking for a good year or two now. And now that my drags were longer, my changes sped up. A couple of metal rings appeared on the loops in my belt line as I drew in the smoke. Obsessed now with the flavours dancin' on my tongue, I closed my eyes, blind to the straps of leather that sprung forth, sliding up my expanding stomach like snakes. They swooped up, going over my shoulders and down my back, combining into one strap half way down, and ending in another loop at the back of my trousers. The suspenders hugged my belly, which was beginning to fill out the simple white button shirt I was wearing. I began to breathe out, this time through my nose, opening one eye as I saw the smoke billowing out, and my mind exploded, taking in the musty, well aged taste. My biceps began to well and truly bulge. My chest, which had had barely any definition before, was now taking on its own chubbiness. As my belly continued to swell, and my ass began to stretch my trousers, my pecs began to soften up, becoming admirable moobs resting on top of my notable stomach.

As I finished breathing out the smoke, I smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Oh..that...that's good stuff, right there." My innocent, momma's boy, polite voice had begun to fade. I was now speaking in a lower, but louder, more confident rumble of a voice...but I was still stammering away. The cigar blocked my mind to anything else except Finn and Benny's voices, and that delicious smoke, but even the voices were being buried by that all consuming smoke.

"Yeah, see, I told ya, J! You're almost finished. Just one last puff." Finn sounded like he was shouting from the end of a long tunnel. All I could think about was the cigar. One last puff. One last puff. I needed to take it, but a voice in my mind...a dark voice, was tellin' me that it wouldn't be enough.

There were 9 other cigars in that box. I needed to have them all.

I began to take my final, long drag. The smoke began to pour into my mouth, almost filling it up, and as it did, my belly began to truly expand. My moobs and stomach began to strain against my white shirt, pushing the buttons to breaking point, little holes exposing my skin to the air. Outta the shadows themselves, a pure black jacket began to appear around me. Settling around my wide, wide shoulders, the arms sliding over my own bulging biceps. It fit me perfectly, like it had been tailor made for my new girthy self. I could feel myself getting a little taller, my 5 foot 3 growing to 4, 5, 6, 7. I could feel my trousers hugging my groin and ass, as they expanded ever more, my once flat little butt becoming a full on, fat booty.

I took the stub of the cigar from my mouth, being careful not to let any smoke out, and flicked it onto the pavement. I looked down at myself, still holding the smoke in my mouth, and it felt like what had been cloudin' my mind had cleared up. Suddenly, I was aware of all the changes that were happenin' to me. I knew just a few minutes ago I had been a cowardly little squirt, and somehow, this cigar had turned me into a huge, confident, mafioso, not afraid to throw around his own weight. And I knew that the cigars in that box Benny held even more power. I didn't know what they planned to do with those other 9 cigars, but I had to take them all. They were my future, and they were the key to unlockin' the true me that had been kept locked up in that pitiful little shell of a man, by my own, sweet momma.

I breathed out the smoke through my nose, and that was when it really began.

As it billowed out over my face, I could feel my hair beginning to change. My brown hair, slighty messy from the night's party began to change, turning a pure jet black, slicking back, becoming shiny, like a beetle's shell. It began to move towards the back of my head, my entire forehead exposed, as the slick black hair reached down to my shoulders at the back. Like the jacket before it, out of the shadows, a hat formed itself, a black homburg settling onto my head like I'd worn it all my life. And the final change, the one that told me that I had infinitely more potential, began to take root. My teeth had been average chompers, but they didn't fit my new, big self. They began to grow bigger, sharpen, moving around in my mouth, taking on a new form. I clenched them together in a grin, feeling satisfied as they slotted perfectly between each other, into a true, inhuman, shark-like grin.

"Hooh! Dat was a good cigar, boys." I slung my arms around Finn and Benny, like I'd known them forever. "Where'd ya get 'em?"

"They was specially made, J." Benny told me. "Boss commissioned them, like."

"All dat for my birthday? He really does love me." My huge paws, bigger than Benny's now, snatched the box out of his hands.

Finn took on a panicked look. "Oh...uh...well...s-sure. But wouldn't it be better to share them? Y'know, one for everyone?" He stammered. It was like we'd switched places.

"Now, ya know me, Finn. I'm not one for sharin'."

"Uh-" he began, but I wasn't about to let him take away the key to my future. I cut across him.

"Boy, I'm feelin' mighty hungry. The night's still young, fellas. Let's go get some steaks." I stood up, box of cigars in hand, as I started making my way towards a steak house a couple of blocks away. I knew that before the cigar, I hadn't know it was there, but it was like it had given me new knowledge. My girth took up the whole sidewalk, and I boldy stepped in the direction I wanted to go, my mind instantly adjustin' to all the changes.

I glanced down at the box of cigars. There were 9 left, and I intended to use them all before the end of tonight. I didn't know what they'd do to me, or where they'd take me, but I knew that if this was what just one could do, then I was sure to like the others. The little Jeremiah, at the start of this story, that sad, limp sack of a guy was completely gone, and in his place was me, Big J. As Finn and Benny nervously fell into step behind me, I grinned, baring my dangerously sharp fangs for what would definitely not be the last time that night. 

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Not Vibing + Nostalgia | Doing the Write Thing #47

Dudes. My writing life has just been so weird lately.

I’m not really vibing with this book right now. I don't know why. Kind of a bummer, but it happens. That’s okay. The important part is, I’ve been writing. Though to put it out there, I’m in an editing + outlining mood. Not a drafting mood. Does anyone else feel that way too sometimes? I mean, editing and outlining are still SO important, but for some reason, my stubborn brain refuses to believe I’m being productive if I’m not writing. Even if I’m outlining a million chapters a day, I still can’t feel content with my productivity. It’s weird. But yeah, anyway. Not vibing with you, FOSTERED #5. Not vibing.

THAT’S OKAY THOUGH.

Don’t know if I’m going to have much time to vibe beyond today and tomorrow because GUESS WHO’S DRIVING FROM TORONTO TO PENNSYLVANIA THURSDAY TO SEE PRECIOUS KID.

(when ur brother took that photo cuz both ur brothers already met the band for u because ur brothers happened to be on tour in California cuz ur brothers happen to be in a band, and also didn't happen to have a show that day so they drove like 2 hours just to meet the band for u and ur sister cuz ur brothers are great even tho like don't tell ur brothers cuz ew brothers.)

(when u made that poster Justine [middle] is holding with ur sister [u did the lettering] and ur brothers got the band to sign copies for u ur sister and ur best friend and they do and r like the sweetest people ever)

(when u find out precious kid is having a show in Pennsylvania and even tho its a 7 hour drive ur brothers and mom decide to take u becuz u have the best family ever)

Also, going to Mexico from next Monday to Friday with the family. So my life looks like this:

Thursday: wake up really early and drive all the way to Pennsylvania. Watch Precious Kid show. Faint.

Also Thursday: drive to grandparents’ house and sleep there.

Friday: drive all the way back home.

Saturday: RELAXXXXX

Sunday: Pack. Also. Don’t panic. You’re going on a plane. But don’t panic.

(this is going to be really hard lol.)

(I’ll try)

(I’ve gone on a plane before no problem)

(Except now I’ve got anxiety (TM))

(rip)

Monday: Get up at like 2AM (so basically just don’t sleep the night before), go to airport, get on plane, go to Mexico.

Rest of the week: Enjoy Mexico fams.

Friday (or whenever we come back I don't know things I just go as things go): hello back home Toronto school starts soon BUT ALSO YOU’RE SEEING SURF CURSE IN LIKE 10 DAYS AND MAYBE GET TO MEET THEM AND ALSO DAUGHTER RELEASES A 13 SONG ALBUM TWO DAYS LATER.

HONESTLY JUST FREAKING LIVE YOUR LIFE BECAUSE LOOK AT ALL THE AWESOME SHIT THAT HAPPENS.

Anyway onto the update.

Daily word count goal: 250

Words written: 789

Total word count: 120 981

Total page count: 219

Songs played: SO I don't think I wrote with music, but I have a couple things to say in regards to music.

Like I mentioned one of my ALL TIME favourite bands (right behind The Strokes, like SO close behind The Strokes sort of) Daughter, is releasing a new album on September 1st. I about died. I talked to @sssoto​ about this after noticing they posted an ominous uncaptioned photo yesterday, and I can’t believe it actually happened.

It’s actually a score to the new Life Is Strange video game, but GUYS. Daughter just released their second album at the very start of 2016, and I don't think anyone was expecting them to release something so huge so soon. I’ve been screaming all day because of this news if you know what I mean. ;)

So punny.

They released one of the songs off the album today called Burn It Down, and I’m just going to leave it here because I'm afraid I’ll just type in all caps like OMG GUYZ ITS SO GOODZ so to avoid embarrassing myself:

The lyrics are absolutely amazing. I adore everything Daughter because Elena writes every lyric with such care and has such amazing word choice. Honestly look at me being a writer commenting on word choice in lyrics. ;) I can’t help it. She’s honestly an amazing lyricist.

Here’s some of my faves from the song:

Always said I was a good kid Always said I had a way with words Never knew I could be speechless Don't know how I'll ever break this

And there’s:

Now the world is only white noise Frequencies that I can't understand

NOW THE WORLD IS ONLY WHITE NOISE LIKE WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT.

(See what I mean. She writes with so much care but it doesn't seem forced. Writing goals. Also so sorry if Igor or Remi or someone else also penned these lyrics as well, lol. I love you too.)

I'll set fire to the whole place I don't even care about our house

!!!!!!!

So I got a little carried away there. Daughter is greatness.

Let’s just get carried away more, shall we?

So Surf Curse released their second album Nothing Yet this year. I’m a chronological music listener, so if I like a band, I have to like them A LOT because I buy every album and listen to them in order. I’m not a single song listener. Like, there are so many single songs I love from other bands but I’m such an awful music listener, I won’t listen to them until I fall in love. Basically, any band I listen to is a favourite band.

(I’m so sorry, I’d love music recs though if you have any. I genuinely do love when people do that. :) I apologize for my weird music habits though. Genuinely don't know what’s up with that, lol.)

My point was, I finally got Nothing Yet. My sister, best friend and I (with my brotherz cuz lol) are going to see them, and obviously they’re going to play songs from this album. I’ll admit, this album doesn't have the classic ‘Surf Curse’ sound, but I’m so down for Nothing Yet.

Nothing Yet is a lot more indie than punk but aaaaahahhahaha guess who’s living for it.

Favourite songs so far (I’ve only listened to it once full through since I just got it but): Falling Apart, All Is Lost, Nostalgia, Sleeping, and Christine F.

This isn’t related at all to my writing session tonight but.

Things to know: I’m not having as much fun as I should be? I’m writing a Lonan Clark Interrogation Scene (TM) [they’ve happened so many times because this boy is such a savage at this point they’re like recurring episodes looooool], but eh. Content is fine, but I’m not vibing. You catch my drift? Did I just say catch my drift.

How I felt: Is it terrible if I say bored. Sorry Lonan. dkm. (This is a me thing. It’s literally a great scene, and I’m just sitting there like yahhhhh no.)

Bad haiku to describe writing session: Boredom is not good / Especially when the scene / Is kinda good yeah

Rating of writing session out of 10 and why: 6.5 because of the above :(

On a scale from 1-10 my level of stoked-ness is: also a 6.5

Lyrics to describe writing session: He wants it easy; he want it relaxed / Said I can do a lot of things, but I can't do that / Two steps forward, then three steps back

--The End Has No End, The Strokes (Room On Fire)

I can promise you I’ve used these lyrics before but honestly me. I want it easyyyyyyyy I want it relaxed said I can do a lot of things but I can’t do thaaaaaaaat.

GIF to describe writing session:

*AND THAT OVER THERE IS RACHEL’S MOTIVATION FLOATING FAR, FAR AWAY!*

Thank you Julian. You always believe in me.

Excerpt:

How about some savage Lonan dialogue.

“I really have to tell you the truth?”

“Unless you want your brain matter to paint a Picasso on the wall behind you, I’d suggest so.”

(lonan is the second person)

(I should make that clear but I don't really need to cuz I have tags before this + context but)

“This could take as little as a half hour if you stick to the facts and stop with your bullshit, but seeming as though doing so is impossible for you, I’ll settle for two hours. Understood?”

honestly is he talking to me in this last one. because this scene could literally take me as little as a half hour if I stuck to the facts and stopped with my bullshit but it seems as though doing so is impossible for me so I’m settling for two.

(We all have off days. It’s okay.)

(It’s funny though because I don’t really have writer’s block. I know exactly what needs to happen but every time I try to write I'm like oh this is torture what are words.)

(This happened yesterday too. When I re-read what I wrote, it was fine, but it’s taking a long time to put together! Which is fine. Honestly, that happens sometimes. :))

So that’s it for the writing update! That’s actually not it though! So before I really started blogging, a few really special people in my life did some really amazingly sweet things for the FOSTERED books (+ I’M DISAPPOINTED), and I wanted to stroll down memory lane and talk about it.

EDIT: So I just took 3 hours to find all of these images. I had to scroll through my Instagram which has over 2000 photos on it... Like sometimes I wish I could go back and tell my 12 year old self that literally no one cares but alas. I’ve blurred all handles etc out because my (and everyone else mentioned here) Instagram is private, sooo that’s exclusive to friends and family.

Without further ado, I bring to you, NOSTALGIA. To preface, these were all from 2014/2015. So no judgements. lol. Excuse how lame I am in these captions. Honestly. Also: I hope this doesn't come across like I’m boasting about things people have done for me as that’s not what I’m intending at all. I just want to share the love and kind of thank the people who did all this stuff for me one more time because honestly, every single thing I received genuinely touched me, and everything I receive now continues to touch me. It makes me really happy thinking about all this stuff, so I thought I’d share the good vibes. :)

1. I’M DISAPPOINTED cast fanart

So @sarahkelsiwrites​ drew these guys for me in 2015. I mean let’s just give a shout out to Ben. (Her art doesn't look like this anymore lol. So sorry Sarah.)

2. My first Twitter banner

Do I need to explain this one.

Also, that ain’t my handle anymore wut kind of.

(i’m now @ rachellwrites)

(but I don't use my twitter for anything besides reblogging precious kid tweets so there’s a warning)

3. Ashley’s Foster comment legacy + Sarah and quinoa

I mean. Sarah’s profile picture was legit an avatar she made of Harrison through an app or something.

4. Fetus Loner angst tho I didn't know he was angsty

It’s almost three years later and The Emotional Loner Chronicles is now running its 12th million season ft melancholy and angst

5. Ashley’s Foster comment legacy lives on

6. Fosever foreverrrrr

Sarah made me this really awesome plastic thing with perler beads to commemorate Fosever (MC + love interest aka foster + reeve) and I can’t get over how cool this thing is... It’s been a while (like a year) since I’ve seen it, but it’s lying around somewhere, and it’s incredibly cool. It actually attaches together. Thanks @sarahkelsiwrites!​

7. @sarahkelsiwrites​‘ early Reeve fanart

sarah’s going to kill me for putting this on here lol. Honestly though at the time I literally freaked. She drew it for me when she was at home sick, and it’s just so thoughtful and adorable lol.

8. Ashley’s cliffolution

@imdisappointed​ (Ashley) is the best best friend I could ask for. Bah.

9. Making paper cranes with Ashley

Ashley was actually the one who helped me make all the paper cranes on the newer edition of the FOSTERED books. She posted this when we were done, and I still can’t stop laughing.

10. I’M DISAPPOINTED love

this is just so sweet, lol. bah.

11. Clifford fanart by Sarah + caption

Sarah drew this portrait of Clifford a very long time ago, but it still remains one of my favourite things ever.

12. Sarah and Lonan clash heads a lot 

Do I need to explain this one other than the fact that @sarahkelsiwrites​ literally calls the FOSTERED books Harrison Palooza.

13. The Harrison Chair

Here’s a really cringy old excerpt from book three that explains why Sarah posted about a chair in a hotel room ignore the literal terrible writing :

“She’s in Texas?” I blurt, turning around on the spinning chair. Harrison stares at me for another second like he’s contemplating some evil plan, walks up to me, lifts me out of the chair, sets me on the bed, then takes a seat in it himself. “Oh yeah…” he mumbles. “So much fucking better…” “Harrison!”   “Jesus, this is so much fucking better…” he moans, rubbing a hand over his face. “What the hell was that for?” I growl, crossing my arms over my chest, cocking an eyebrow up at him. He sighs before deflating completely in the chair, answering me with his eyes closed. “For sitting your fat ass in my chair.” He grumbles, soon demanding Foster go turn on the coffee machine.

I talked to her about this recently, and apparently she still gets mad over this. Oh boy.

14. Lonan and his Quest bars

This is actually my own comment but I’m sharing because this is just too good.

15. I don't even know what’s going on but Harrison.

@sarahkelsiwrites and her pro Harrison edits. I just love the font choice in this.

16. Sarah makes Reeve a birthday cake

This was so cute, and I actually forgot this happened until I found this post again super recently!

17. Cousin retrieves a cup with the word Foster just to show me

This was years ago, but I think it’s just really adorable? I think it’s so sweet that she went out of her way to get it. Honestly. I can’t gush because I’m just eklsblwkanelfkn feelings.

18. Ris cover from the trash

This picture was actually what pushed me to make this post because my cousin and I just talked about this a few days ago! She told me she looked through the trash for weeks to find this thing because it looked like it said RIS and lol honestly I just... That’s so funny and thoughtful and plain adorable cuz I know I wouldn’t search through the trash for Harrison (leave him where he belongssss), but she did and that’s just bahhhh. So thank you Becca. for literally going out of your way to retrieve two pieces of trash with my characters’ names on it because if that isn’t their aesthetic, I don’t know what is.

19. Sarah’s emojis

lol. I cri.

20. Greek god.

I can’t help but laugh so hard every time I see this. HAHAHAHAHA.

So that’s it! I talked about birthday cakes etc, before, so I didn’t include them in this round. But honestly, all of these things mean so much to me... I wish I could project my gratitude a little more eloquently, but I’m so happy these three wonderful people are in my life, and thought of my book and liked it enough to take their own time to make things for it.

Most of this was all a couple years ago, like I mentioned, but I still love all of these things now. Thanks so much for letting me share them with you! I hope you guys enjoyed this post. :) I’ll see you in the next one!

--Rachel

[daughters-and-winsisters]

Huntress- Part 9: Listen

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E9 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

In one clean hit you slammed your turned fist into the punching bag. It echoed throughout the empty halls of the bunker. You didn’t wear headphones when there was no one else around. If alone, you had to be all of your senses. There was no one else to rely on. You kept your thumbs out of your curled fists and your guard high enough to cover your face. On your toes and dodging a non-existent partner you swung another punch, a sidekick following the first blow. After almost an hour of training you stopped and leaned against the cold brick wall, taking a swig of your water whilst staring at the open space. You still hadn’t moved your Dad’s towels ready for his own session. You left them, a reminder that there was always hope.

Three days had passed. Four if you count the day Cas stayed with you. He took you home that day- Uncle Dean’s orders. Only, they never came back to the bunker. 

You hadn’t done much except call up your Dad and Uncle a few hundred times. Not one time did they answer. You’d turned to research and training, if anything you needed to be stronger at this moment. You’d considered calling Mary, but you weren’t sure what she’d be able to do that would help much. Of course you liked her, she was family after all, but if she wanted out of the Hunting life you weren’t going to be responsible for dragging her back into it. No one has the right to do that.

After changing back into your usual checked shirt, jeans and combats you boiled the kettle for a brew and slumped down in the library. Tea in hands, a book on the table and a bright lamp lighting up the pages for you were interrupted by a shadow. You mumbled a “Hey Cas.” but didn’t bring your head up. The stiff shadow was enough of a giveaway.

“Y/N, how are you?” He sounded genuinely concerned which made you look up.  “I’m okay, just trying to figure out what happened...I guess.” Your eyes glanced down to the Mythological Law book. “As am I.” He nodded seriously before adding “Have you contacted Mary?”

You took in a deep breath and leaned back in your chair “No...”

“Should we?”  You were almost annoyed Cas was asking you all the questions. How on Earth were you supposed to know?!

“I don’t know, go find out.” You snapped.  Cas left without asking twice, making you feel guilty. You didn’t mean to come across as harsh as it had sounded. Truthfully, you missed your Dad and your Uncle Dean.

They’d welcomed you into the family, even with the knowledge of you being part of the British Men Of Letters. You were immensely grateful to them and now you couldn’t help them in return. You were useless. “I’m useless...” You mumbled to yourself, resting your elbows on the table and holding your head in your hands. Strands of your hair sunk between your fingers as you stared blankly at the book.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Mary’s angry tone filled the room. It took you a moment to realise she was asking you and not Cas. “Um...” You stumbled, lost for words “I-” “I’m their Mother, your Grandmother!” She threw her hands in the air and back down by her sides in frustration. “I know...I just...I didn’t want to bring you back into Hunting.” “These are my boys. I’ll Hunt till I die to save them.”

“Y/N, it’s me. I know you’re a little cross with me, but I don’t want us to lose contact, yeah? I’ve known you a long time now, squirt. Don’t make me track you down.” The man chuckled “You know I never didn’t like you? It’s hard coming into a family where the Misses already has a kid. You were too grown up when I married your Mum to pay attention to me, and I get that,” a few crashes sounded on the other line “Look I’ve got to head off. Give us a ring would you?” He hung up.

*Message deleted*

“Y/N, love. It’s me again. I know you’ll listen to these, you’re too curious not to. Just like your Dad, eh? Have you told him about me...about, this. It’s a difficult situation to be in for me too and I want you to understand that. Sam Winchester has a right to you, after all he’s your Dad. But, you’re still my family. Maybe not by blood, but in some ways you’re my daughter...You both were... Please Y/N, call me back.”

*Message deleted*

“Y/N, this is the last message I’m leaving, alright? I’m sorry. I’m sorry to put you through what I did. But it was only ever to get the best out of you. I changed quickly, didn’t I? I’ve always picked your side....I only wish that there weren’t any sides. Maybe you could try and get in a good word for us with them American Hunters, yeah? We’re not the bad guys, Y/N. The buggers that you Hunt are. Have a good one.”

*Message deleted*

“Y/N, we know where they are.” Cas declared, not bothering to say hello before storming into your room. You were just finishing up another training session when he did. “Really?” Your eyes grew wide. It had been over six weeks since you’d seen your Dad or Uncle Dean. Mary and Cas had done there best to keep you company but you spent most of the time in your room with your thumb hovering between the “replay message” and the “delete message” buttons.

You grabbed your gun, checked the ammo status and slipped an extra knife into your pocket for security before racing out to where Mary and Cas were waiting. “Let’s go. Seatbelt on, I drive fast.” Mary stated. You’d barely closed the car door when she started the engine and drove off.

The journey seemed to take forever with so much at stake, only with Mary’s fast driving and the help of headphones it was over quick enough. The moment the car slowed to a halt you scowled at what was in front.

Mr K and Ketch were stood leaning up against their car bonnet and soon you Mary and Cas were doing the same. Mr K gave you a nod of acknowledgement and Mick offered a sort of half smile. You cocked an eyebrow and crossed your arms.  “Any idea where Sam and Dean are?” Mick asked, getting straight to the point.

“They’ve been taken away by the Government...Lucifer was possessing the President and they-” “You’re telling me that gadget we gave you was for you taking on the bleeding Devil himself?” Mick scoffed and appeared to be aiming the question at you. “You trained me well.” You were trying to sound sarcastic but it seemed to sound more like a compliment.

“Sounds like they went to Her Majesty’s Pleasure- site 94 to be specific.” Mr K spoke proudly and held himself very seriously. “Let’s go find Site 94 then.” Mary declared, not bothering to spend any more time talking. “Of course, we’ll put a satellite on it right away.” “You can do that?” Cas squinted, becoming more and more suspicious.

“’Course, it’s our job. We collect information.” Mick nodded.

“So that’s it, you’re just going to help us?”

“There ain’t a catch?” You questioned, agreeing with Mary- it seemed to easy.

“Miss Winchester...Mary, we came over to this land for one with only, to make friends. ‘Course we’ll help you.” Mick had a way with words that made you want to question everything he said.

“Yeah okay. Let’s just go.” You rolled your eyes and got back in the car.

“We’ll lead the way.” Mr K smiled.

Once Mick and Mr K had left things had quietened down, you Mary and Cas were slowly wading through the woodlands hoping to come across your Dad and Uncle Dean. You were at the back, you had a handgun and knife in your jacket in case and also an extra blade tucked into your shoe. Thankfully the extra training you had put in meant that you weren’t at all tired even after hiking for quite some time. 

When you reached a point where you had no where to turn, you all stopped and waited. Patience had bee something you’d always had, so waiting wasn’t an issue for you. However, it didn’t seem to run in pure Winchester genes as Mary would not stop pacing back and forth. Sighing, you got up from where you were resting against a tree branch and cleared your throat “You’re gonna have dug a trench in a minute, stop moving and I’m sure they’ll be here soon.” You half joked half scolded. 

Mary paused as if having only just become aware she was doing so. “Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“It’s okay,I get that your nervous. It was just making me nervous.” You chuckled. She smiled and looked as though she was about to say something when Cas’ voice made you turn around.

“Sam...Dean!” Cas jumped into action and immediately wrapped his arms around your Dad, only letting go so that he could hug Uncle Dean.

Your Dad went on to hug his Mum, you tried to avoid anyone’s gaze and focused on watching the trees behind everyone. “Y/N.” Your Dad’s relieved voice made you glance up at him, he was smiling and before you knew it stood directly in front of you. His arms wrapped around you and almost took you off the ground. You relaxed in his grip and hugged back tightly, his hand moved so it was holding your head close to his chest and he pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead. 

“Hi Dad.” You smiled, not wanting to let go.

“Does Uncle Dean get a hug?”  You chuckled and when your Dad let go he hugged you close. “Hate to admit it, but I missed you, kid.” He winked.

“I’m sorry, you left...survivors?” Mr K clearly had a hard time saying the word. It was a taboo in his vocabulary.

“Well yeah, they were soldiers, they were just doing their job.” Your Dad explained. You knew what Mr K was thinking when he looked at you, he thought your Dad and Uncle were corrupting you. They were ‘Americanising’ you or something. You didn’t care what he thought.

“Well uh, I guess this is where you want us to say thank you..?” Uncle Dean reluctantly spoke.

“No need gents, happy to be of service.” Mick nodded appreciatively. You snorted at this, not bothering to hide it.  “Sorry, do you think otherwise? You really think I’ve got some other reason, please share with the rest of us if you do.”

“I’ll let your pathetic brain try and figure it out.” You remarked, having had enough of them bossing you around.

“Brooks!” Mr K shouted, your name echoing throughout.

“Sir.” You tilted your head a little.

“We do not speak to others with such rude language.” He lectured.

You laughed bitterly “Watch me. You’re not in charge any more so get used to it.”  Your Dad watched, ready to step in and defend you but well aware you were capable of doing it thus far.

“Have you forgotten everything? Everyone?” Mr K stepped forward, trying to show his dominance.

“Believe you and me I’ve been trying.”

“What about Max? Have you forgotten Max?” Mr K smirked, knowing he’d hit a nerve. Mick stepped forward “That’s enough, Arthur.” 

You closed your mouth and stepped forward so you were almost eye level with him. Your eyes narrowed as you prepared to hit him. “And your Mother, dearest Rebecca, have you forgotten her too?”

“Mr Ketch,” Mick spoke up, putting his hand on Mr K’s shoulder “I suggest you step down.” He shot you a glance, warning you not to say anything.

Mr K nodded. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

“Finish the job...I know you will.” You dared before turning on your heel and getting into the Impala, ignoring your family’s stares. Your Dad and Mary watched, curiosity and concern in their eyes, Uncle Dean looked more impressed than anything and Cas was worried, there was more to you than he first thought.

The car ride wasn’t silent like you were expecting it to be. Sam and Mary spoke, Cas and Dean spoke, you did not. You listened to them and to your music-one headphone in. “Hey Y/N.” Mary looked back slightly from the steering wheel. You glanced up as if to say yes.  “What did you mean by finish the job?” It surprised you she’d asked about that and nothing else. “He’ll kill those survivors you left.” You made sure to put emphasis on “survivors”.

“What?” Your Dad swiveled in his seat to face you. “It’s Mr K’s job to finish the job.”

Everyone looked at you, clearly confused. The way American hunting went wasn’t much like how it did back home.

“It’s his job, he erases evidence. They were training me to do the same.” You admitted “Only I had a tendency to refuse.” “Good for you.” Mary encouraged, proud to know. “I stopped refusing not that long ago when I realised Mr K would just do it anyway...I thought I could make it less painful for them. Normally I just sent them to sleep with a serum dart....” “So that’s why you’re better with snipers.” You Dad noted. “Yeah...I’m not proud of it. I’ve given up trying to come up with excuses to why it was an okay thing to do.” 

“You were just doing what you’d always done.” Cas assured you however you shook your head. “No...I was just too scared to do anything else.”

Before anyone else had a chance to say something the radio switched between channels, staccato voices jumping with the stations while the car slowed to a halt. You frowned when Your Dad shared a look with Uncle Dean. “What’s happening?” Mary questioned as you all slowly got out of Baby.

“Yeah Dean,” a familiar voice answered for your Uncle “sup?”  Billy, the reaper, tilted her head and smirked.

“Look, Mom,” Dean stepped in front of you all “That place...I’ve been to hell and this was worse. There was only one way of getting out, and that wasn’t by staying alive.” Uncle Dean explained. “At least this way one of us gets to keep on fighting.” Your Dad agreed.

“By Midnight, a Winchester goes bye bye...for good.” Billy smiled “Believe me that’s something I’ve wanted for a long time.” You glanced at the gun Mary was reaching for and thought about getting your own one out. “Before you think about it,” Billy looked at you “You might owe me, but not your life. Besides, I don’t want half-Winchesters.” You glared at her.

“Then why not me.” Mary raised a gun to her head, immediately Uncle Dean and Dad stepped forward in protest, however their bodies were thrown back. “Works for me.” Billy explained, her eyes wide and readying.

Mary’s voice was shaking when she spoke “I love you, all of you.” Her eyes were glistening with tears. You were frozen on the spot, maybe because of Billy yet maybe because of your own fear. “Mary-” You tried to think of something to say. “No, Y/N. This is the right thing to do.”

“It sure is, if you break this pact then there are consequences on a cosmic scale,” Billy explained “this is the right thing-”

Suddenly Castiel appeared behind the Reaper and dug a blade into her chest, her body lit up from the inside and cries of pain replaced her smile. Her body fell limp to the floor. Mary put the gun at her side, Uncle Dean and Dad lifted themselves from the floor and Cas stood in front, ready to defend his choices.

“Cas what have you done?” Uncle Dean gasped.

Cas looked up, his breathing heavy and his eyes serious: “What had to be done...This world, this sad doomed little world, it needs you, it needs every last Winchester it can get and I will not let you die I won’t let any of you die.” He looked at you “And I won’t let you sacrifice yourselves you mean too much to me. To everything.”

Everyone was silent, all eyes were on the Angel.

“Yeah you made a deal,” He continued “You made a stupid deal and I broke it. You’re welcome.”

Let me paint you a picture.

Of a world without monsters or demons, or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night. Of a world where no one has to die because of the supernatural. A new world. A better world. 

Are you listening?

Part 10- Patience

I do not own these gifs

Aye look at me I wrote a thing. Sorry it’s a little late but I really enjoyed writing this part so I ope that comes across when you read it. Thanks for reading! 

(Tags after cut)

@barbygrozna @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @chelseypaigeake @impala-hunter @msdooos @starswirlblitz @fanboyswhereare-you @amorluzymelodia @d-willem @adidabach @blackjack-the-sword @spazzstiel @booksarecoolio @winchesters-favorite-girl @squirels-angels-and-moose @27bmm @practicallyawinchester @demonic-meatball @xsecretrejectx @bea789 @sarahthewriter55 @trashforwinchesters @snazzyjazzyh @diesintheshower @intoomuchfandoms @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @kbarnett1089 @riversong-sam @intoomuchfandoms @teamfreewill-67 @revwinchester @jensen-jarpad @itseverythingilike @avalon821 @miss-miep @lovelouisbabe @wcmanwcnder @graceless-dragon @sofy7012 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @oneshotsdeanshort @caroldanversinatardis @soulfiretheobsessed @whovianayesha @fandomsstolemylife00 @straightasdeanwinchester

[tandem85]

Survey...thing

Okay so this is gonna be a bit weird. I came across this copypasta survey thing and thought it looked interesting judging by the first question. Had no clue of it's true length and I've been just kinda rambling on for close to 2 hours now. This tumblr has possibly the lowest traffic in recorded history, so I shouldn't have to worry about too many eyes stumbling across this. At least I hope. Eh, oh well, whatever, here it is.

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 3. - Good machines don't guarantee success, though, as RCA and Xerox and others had discovered. (The Soul of A New Machine, Tracy Kidder)

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, What can you touch? - The wall and pillows.

3. Before you started this survey, what were you doing? - Browsing the internet after pulling an all-nighter due to insomnia and painful recollections of past mistakes.

4. What is the last thing you watched on TV? - 'The West Wing' on Netflix

5. Without looking, guess what time it is: - Eight fucking A.M.

6. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time? - 8:03 AM. End me.

7. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? - A desk fan and the faint sound of traffic

8. When did you last step outside? What were you doing? - A few days ago, to pick up an old iMac off Craigslist

9. Did you dream last night? - No.

10. Do you remember your dreams? - On average, no. Sometimes a decent one lingers, though.

11. When did you last laugh? - I honestly have no idea.

12. Do you remember why / at what? - Not at all. Probably just a passing chuckle at something I read somewhere.

13. What is on the walls of the room you are in? - Various posters, most either from Club Nintendo or Nintendo Power, along with a few more obscure ones.

14. Seen anything weird lately? - Plenty.

15. What is the last film you saw? - All the way through? I, uh, honestly couldn't say...I have a habit of just watching bits and bobs of films I like over and over again, usually to just take in detail or just to confirm a stray thought or something. If that's the case, then Star Wars w/the theatrical mono track. If an *entire* film, then probably Aliens a month or so back.

16. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? - Small suburban town a few miles out from some city in some state, preferably more northern than where I am now. Countryside of Oregon seems nice.

17. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy? - Probably just save it all and try to coast on it for the rest of my life.

18. Tell me something about you that most people don’t know. - the fuck is this copypasta quiz? Er, well, nobody really *knows* me so just any facet of trivia about my life would do, I guess. I'm really, *really* obsessed with EPCOT even though I've never been and I haven't even visited Disney World since 2002. I genuinely have a copy of every pavilion and attraction's soundtrack from Future World burned to CDs sitting in my car right now, and if I had to pick favorites, Horizons and Communicore get the most play time.

19. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? - Give everyone some common sense and a better sense of care towards others. That would ((hopefully)) end a majority of conflict out there.

20. Do you like to dance? - Not really. Haven't danced since my sister's wedding back in '09. Yep, even missed prom, not that I really care.

21. Would you ever consider living abroad? - Maybe if it's like Japan or somewhere with similar power standards...I couldn't make it a month in Europe and it's 240v mains standard. My life hinges too much on tech.

22. Does your name make any interesting anagrams? - Never really thought of it. Probably not.

23. Who made the last incoming call on your phone? - ...my mother, a few days ago. I only have my immediate family's numbers saved. Not like anyone would ever really want to call me.

24. What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer? - Some shitty (what I presume) in-ride recording of Horizons I wanted to play around with in an audio editor to get a decent loop or two out of...before I realized YouTube had better resources for that.

25. Last time you swam in a pool? - Years. I used to love swimming all the time when I was younger (weather permitting; my skin goes from moonlight pale to lobster red faster than it takes to boil an egg on the sun). Heck, I don't think I still have any trunks that fit anymore...

26. Type of music you like most? - Normally I'd say 70s/80s rock/pop, but I haven't listened to much outside of, er, soundtracks the past few months.

27. Type of music you dislike most? - Either country or EDM/dubstep/whatever. I can't stand singers in country, it's so painfully obvious they're forcing their voices to have this bogus accent, and dubstep/electro whatever is just screeching garbage that sounds worse than playing a data cassette through a walkman. 

28. Are you listening to music right now? - No, I was trying to go to sleep earlier, now I'm just laying with a laptop sitting 2 feet from my face listening to the fan whir.

29. What color is your bedroom carpet? - Beige

30. If you could change something about your home, without worry about expense or mess, what would you do? - Expand the floorspace somehow. If where was an extra bedroom, a lot of storage problems would be solved. (lot of books and furniture. Takes up a lot of space.)

31. What was the last thing you bought? - iMac G3 off craigslist.

32. Have you ever ridden on a motorbike? - nope

33. Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving? - I tried zip-lining once. Nearly broke my hands and fell 30+ feet into a ~40 degree lake. High-flying stunts ain't my thing.

34. Do you have a garden? - No, but I (as in my family) used to years ago. It was nice.

35. Do you really know all the words to your national anthem? - Yes, thanks 4kids /s

36. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning? - why am I still here

37. If you could eat lunch with one famous person, who would it be? - Steve Wozniak, but my brain's so fried from exhaustion so often I'd probably royally fuck that lunch up.

38. Who sent the last text message you received? - My sister a few days ago. By mistake. Wrong "Andrew".

39. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? - If I had one and if I was stupid enough to max one out, definitely 100% my local game store, The Video Game Cavern.

40. What time is bed time? - My life is in such shambles that a bed time isn't even a functioning concept in my life. It's whenever I pass out.

41. Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? - I'm a guy, so, no.

42. How many tattoos do you have? - None. I'm a total square.

43. If you don’t have any, have you ever thought of getting one? - Nah. Being broke + being a bear = never even a passing thought.

44. What did you do for your last birthday? - Nothing iirc. Had classes (then), didn't have that fancy a dinner, and just crashed that night.

45. Do you carry a donor card? - Can't be due to [insert some crap about bad bloodline]

46. Who was the last person you ate dinner with? - Ha. Ha. ha...

47. Is the glass half empty or half full? - depends on how the water got into the cup.

48. What’s the farthest-away place you’ve been? - Ohio. eh

49. When’s the last time you ate a homegrown tomato? - Not a fan of tomatoes. I think my dad still grows some during the summer (not a full garden, just like 3 veggie plants he tends in the flower beds)

50. Have you ever won a trophy? - Not really

51. Are you a good cook? - Well I haven't burned anything or cut myself yet so maybe.

52. Do you know how to pump your own gas? - Yes

53. If you could meet any one person whose deceased, who would it be? - You know, I never really thought about something like this. Honestly, not as much 'meet' but more of just have a good long talk with, my grandfather. He passed when I was 8, so I never got to really *know* him that well. I've learned more about him from his service papers than being around him a lot when I was young. So yeah, that.

54. Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school? - Lol yep in middle school, uniform and enforced dress code. Everyone hated it back then, however since it was a small school in a massive district I never kept up with anyone afterwards so I can't speak for them, but I actually adopted practices from that dress code. Belt and polo not so much, but always wearing a nice shirt and keeping it tucked in, yeah. I've dressed that way every single day since then.

55. Do you touch-type? - Yep, but I'm weird and don't use the normal home-row hand layout thing. I can type proficiently, it just looks sloppy af

56. What’s under your bed? - A lot of junk. Binder of Gen 1 Pokemon cards, a case of cassettes, stack of old model railroading magazines, old busted up laptop, some blank paper.

57. Do you believe in love at first sight? - HA. Ha. ha......

58. Think fast, what do you like right now? - warmth. seriously, it's cold and my blanket is doing nothing.

59. Where were you on Valentine’s day? - Home, all day, doing pretty much nothing. just a typical day.

60. Life motto: - I don't really have a motto but if I want to be sappy I'd just lift the one from Horizons: "If we can dream it, we can do it" but I have no dreams and I literally do nothing

61. What was the name of your first pet? - I named all my fish once, but I was 5, so I'll just skip to my first cat. 'Whiskers'. Very imaginative.

62. Do you like to go camping? - Yes. I miss it. My sister and brother-in-law used to take me camping all the time years ago...but they've since settled down, had kids, and haven't done anything like that in a while. Meanwhile I'm broke, have no gear, no friends or anything like that so I can't do jack shit about camping.

63. Is there anything going on this weekend? - Not really. Just working on that iMac I keep mentioning

64. Do you have any nicknames? - Not really. Only thing that could vaguely qualify is 'swiss', the first word of my normal username everywhere else. Which is ironic since I'm 100% not Swiss.

65. Who is your favorite musician/band? - Genesis, Collins era. aaaaaaaaaaaaaand I've just earned myself a beating.

66. What time do you get up in the morning? - I STILL HAVEN'T EVEN SLEPT YET

67. Do you wear pajamas when you sleep? - usually. just a t-shirt and pj bottoms.

68. What is the first thing people notice about you? - dunno. don't really interact with enough people to notice anything

69. What is the last movie that you saw at the cinema? - err, probably Ghostbusters. The original, not the new one. They re-released it briefly in promotion of the new one. Fucking loved the new transfer and audio mix, blew the earlier (2014 30th anniversary edition screening) out of the water.

70. Do you sing in the shower? - Nah, I prefer the sound of running water

71. What do you do most when you are bored? - browse the internet, die a little on the inside. whatever's left, at least

72. What do you do for a living? - eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

73. Do you love your job? - EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

74. Which came first the chicken or the egg? - the egg because evolutilkjoirwjga;slkdfja;lkgja;eruhmynf;djva;n

75. How many keys on your key ring? - 3

76. Are you close with your parents? - physically too close, emotionally, further than the moons around jupiter. though that can be said about many things.

77. What kind of car do you drive? - Pontiac Grand Prix. Jumped through freaking hoops the past half a year just to be able to drive it since the damn title was stuck in limbo since March 2016. Just got the tag for it a week ago.

78. What are your best physical features? - people comment on my hair and eyes a lot so those, I guess

79. What are your best characteristics? - oh god. Well, guess you can say I'm determined. Like how I keep on with this survey even though I only thought it was like 20 questions long, not 100 or so. Also you could probably punch me in the face and I'd be the one apologizing.

80. What was the name of your favorite teacher? - Ms. Hamm

81. Where did you grow up? - At this point I've spent most of my life in this hell hole, so Greenville, SC. wait, fuck

82. How far away from your birthplace do you live now? - err somewhere around 300 to 400 miles. Essentially really just one state away.

83. Can you do any impressions? - I've perfected an impression of a sad sack of shit living in emotional isolation stuck in a permanent state of panic

84. Are you a morning person or a night owl? - Night owl by far

85. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? - No, ew

86. Can you close your eyes and raise your eyebrows? - kinda, yeah

87. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? - I couldn't be more of introvert if I lived in a literal hole in the ground

88. What is your best childhood memory? - driving a golf cart up a tree. Don't ask me how, but I somehow managed that when I was like 6. And by tree I mean massive pine. And by up it I literally mean the thing was hanging 5 feet off the ground on a branch.

89. What are some of the different jobs that you have had in your life? - (Re: 72, 73)

90. Do you light candles where you live? - yeah, I enjoy LIGHT scented ones. In open rooms. Strong candles are migraine invoking pieces of shit

91. What was your favorite toy growing up? - wooden Thomas the Tank Engine

92. Do you play any musical instruments? - I am a defect in my familial lineage

93. Have you ever been involved in a crime? - I'm a goodie-two-shoes meh-fest, only thing I've ever stolen is a pencil off a teacher's desk and even that was an accident

94. Do you have long or short hair? - too long for my taste, but it doesn't really look long at all. crazy curls.

95. Have you ever spread a secret to others someone asked you not to? - Never been given many secrets, but I've always kept them.

96. What is your favorite movie? - Oh jesus christ. I just have a slew of movies I enjoy above average, I'll be damned if I could ever properly rank them. In no particular order: Jurassic Park, Short Circuit, Blade Runner, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and Star Trek: The Motion Picture

97. Are you getting tired answering all these questions? - I'm already tired. This was supposed to be more amusing than anything, but it's actually felt good to just let my mind flow into the keys and out into this notepad file.

98. Last question.  Without looking can you remember what the first question was? - Something about lines in a book. It's what hooked my into doing this whole thing.

Wait, seriously, only 98 questions? Thought this thing would've rounded off too 100, then again, I thought it wouldn't be longer than 20 when I started and have just kinda been dragged through this whole thing. Well, it did feel kinda nice I guess. I'm debating if I should post this or not....eh, screw it, I'll throw it on my tandem tumblr. (Which it's short for TAND-EM, I was a retard and got the Tandy emulator confused for DeskMate, the proprietary Tandy OS shell. Nothing to do with bikes, but I guess the latin [at length] humorously applies as well.) I should probably write a header for this...oh, regarding the time questions, that was genuinely the time as of answering those questions. It's currently 9:46 AM. That's how long I've been at this. This...can't be healthy...