#sigh I’ve been on here for 4 years and this is my first art post

[magic-glasses]

Do you guys fw msm 2017… ocs… *explodes

​The bg and lighting are so dog but omg Molly!!! Molly Kramer!!! My favorite msm 2017 character!!! Omg!!!

I’ve drawn her so many times and like never posted her so I think I’m gonna spread my molly propaganda now as I’m super duper hyperfixated on spiderman currently!!!

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Whimpers (Art Donaldson)

Description: Y/N gets turned on by the noises Art makes while playing Tennis.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,432k

Author’s note: Currently working on a Hannibal request. Also does anybody know how I can start replying to comments under my posts? I’ve tried but it won’t let me and I’ve seen other people do it. Thank you!

Y/N watched intensely as Art and Patrick played. She wasn’t like Tashi when it came to Tennis. Tashi stared intensely for the game, Y/N stared intensely because of Art’s whimpers. They were hot and funny to her. Sure she knows that’s how tennis players are but Art’s sounded unique. Y/N has never said anything to him about his whimpers. They’ve been dating for a few years. At first it was all 4 of them together fooling around and they ended up getting together while Patrick and Tashi got together for a while but they didn’t work out. Y/N and Art were different; they were special. “Y/N?” She broke out of the trance she was in and looked over at her best friend. “Are you ready to go?” She asked. “Yeah sure.” She kissed Art goodbye as she and Tashi walked away. 

“Did you ever get turned on by Patrick’s whimpers during Tennis?” Y/N asked Tashi. Tashi gave her a weird look, “What?” Y/N sighed. “I know it sounds weird but when Art whimpers I-” “Oh my god you think it’s hot?” Tashi asked in surprise. Y/N felt her face go red from embarrassment. “Hey don’t be embarrassed, it's just funny.” Y/N looked at her and shook her head. “It’s ridiculous really.” Tashi laughed at her words and shook her head, “It’s not but have you told him?” “Hell no he’d probably break up with me.” Tashi laughed even harder, “He loves you. He isn’t breaking up with you.” “How do I even tell him?” Tashi shrugged, “Hey when you whimper during Tennis it’s hot and I want you to take me on the court.” They both laugh. “Girl, just tell him.” 

Y/N sat in her and Art’s shared bedroom with her ipad on her lap. She watched a few of Art’s matches and listened to his grunts and whimpers as he hit the ball. She got wetter by the second listening to him. She slid her hand in her PJ pants over her now wet panties and softly rubbed her clit letting out a soft moan. She closed her eyes as she listened to her man’s noises as he played. Her finger rubbed faster as her moans got more frequent. Her hips started moving up to meet the speed of her fingers.

She wished that Art was here and rubbing her instead. As his whimpers and grunts got more intense her orgasm got closer and closer. “Babe?” Y/N’s eyes snapped open and her fingers stopped. Art stood there by the bed with a red face. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but Art beat her to it, “Were you getting off to me playing Tennis?” He asked. Now Y/N’s face was red. “I mean kinda.” She confessed. He crawled onto the bed and laid next to her looking at her. “Kinda?” He asked, taking the hand that had been down her pants.

She watched as he put the two fingers in his mouth.She gasped as he licked her fingers clean of her juices that soaked her panties. “What does kinda mean?” He asked her. “I uh I like your whimpers and grunts as you play.” She confessed. He hummed and moved to kiss her neck. “So when I play your panties get wet?” He asked. She nodded as his lips moved down her neck. “That’s so hot.” He groans as he pulls her loose fitting shirt down to expose her hardened nipples. He leaned down and licked one of them.

She threw her head back as he wrapped his lips around her nipple. “Art please.” She moans as he wettens her nipple. He moved down to her belly. “Take the shirt off.” He told her. She does and throws it somewhere in the room. He goes back to kiss down her body until he reaches the spot she needs him most. He nuzzles his nose in her clothed pussy. “Art.” She moaned and gripped his hair. He pulled away and pulled her PJ bottoms down revealing her wet panties. “Holy shit.” He says with a smile.

Her pink panties had a huge dark wet spot on them. He ran his fingers up the spot making her whimper. He chuckled and pulled them down revealing her wet pussy. “Art as much as I want this I want to hear you. Let me please you.” She begged. “You will but let me hear you first. Your whimpers are much sexier than mine.” He tells her and dives into her pussy. She moans loudly as he doesn’t give her a second to breathe. Her hands gripped his hair as his tongue licked her clit. She moans his name as his lips wrap around her tiny clit and suck.

He takes his fingers and swirls around her dripping wet hole. “Art please.” She whimpers. He hums against her causing vibrations. One of his fingers penetrates her hole causing her to whine as she feels his finger inside of her. He adds another and starts pumping as he eats her out. She feels dizzy as she lays her head back enjoying Art’s fingers and mouth. It wasn’t long before her high was near. “Art fuck I’m close.” She whined. He pulled away and winked. She glared at him as he took off his shirt. “So what was that about you wanting to make me whimper?” He asked.

She laughed and pulled him on top of her kissing his lips for the first time that night. His lips tasted like her pussy but she didn’t mind. She flipped them around so she was on top. His shorts still on him but his hard dick was as visible as it could get. She pulled down his shorts and his boxers gasping as his hard dick sprung up and was leaking pre cum. She smirked at him and got in between his legs laying on her stomach. Her hand wrapped around him causing him to gasp. “Fuck.” He groaned out as she jerked him off.

She wasn’t going fast, teasing him as she liked to hear him whine. “Faster baby.” He begged. Her eyes not leaving his face as it shows how deep in pleasure he is. Her hand speeds up but not by much. She was waiting for those whimpers and grunts that turned her into a puddle almost every time she heard them. “Art baby stop holding back those pretty noises.” She tells him. Her hand finally sped up a lot more and those pretty noises started falling from his lips. Art has never been the quiet type in bed but he still held back. But right now at this very moment he didn’t.

Y/N replaced her hand with her mouth. “Fuck.” He whimpered feeling her wet mouth around him, giving him the best head he’s ever had. He was big enough to hit the back of her throat. She held back the gagging just to hear him. He sounded so sweet and sexy. He’s never been this loud before and she was enjoying just as much as him. “Fuck Y/N I’m gonna cum.” He whined. She stopped and sat up smirking at him. He opened his eyes and glared at her as if he didn’t just edge her before. She crawled back up so she was straddling him and grabbed his hard dick again.

He watched as she lined him up with her pussy and slid onto him without ease. They had a pretty good sex life but tonight was the best it’s ever been. She placed her hands on his chest and slowly moved her hips. He whined and she wasn’t sure if it was from the feeling or the fact that she was teasing him. It was still hot though.

As she moved her hips she realized that she was also teasing herself. She had been close too. Her eyes closed as her hips picked up speed. His hands grabbed her hips and squeezed them hard causing her to moan. His eyes remained on her as they both let out the dirtiest noises.

Art couldn’t stop grunting and whimpering at the feeling. He was getting so close again and by the way Y/N was clenching around him she was close too. “Fuck Art I’m close.” She moaned out. “Me too.” He whined as her hips lost their rhythm. Her moans got louder and louder until she came hard with a scream of Art’s name. He whined loudly as he came right after her. She looked down at him, “Your whimpers are way hotter than mine.” She said and leaned down to kiss him. .

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Mosaic #487 - "Beast Wars: Loose Ends"

Originally posted on May 28th, 2010

Story - Zac DeBoard Art - Roy Stiffey Letters - Franco Villa Edits - Juan Pablo Osorio Thanks to - Josh van Reyk

deviantART | Seibertron | TFW2005

Later revised and annotated for Transformers: The Lost Seasons

wada sez: This is a sequel to "Charge" by Josh van Reyk, hence the acknowledgement. Stiffey’s involvement and the inclusion of the character of Insecticon calls back to the otherwise-unrelated strip “Disturbing the Nest”. The strip serves to reintroduce Terrorsaur and Scorponok, who were unceremoniously killed off in “Aftermath”, the start of the show’s second season, to reallocate budget towards new characters and redesigns. As they fell into the lava, they were shown beginning to mutate under the effects of the quantum surge, so this strip follows up on that by using their toy-only Transmetal forms. It seems that the writer had only learned of Scorponok’s Transmetal form from the Beast Wars Sourcebook, unaware that it originated as a McDonalds Happy Meal toy. Iguanus is female here, at Villa’s suggestion: “That's my personal contribute to the plot :) I though that Iguanus was a "she" since IDW's first BW miniseries by Figueroa and Furman. Don't know why ^^”. The name “Iguaness” was slightly revised from Stiffey’s suggestion for the character, “Iguaniss”. Obviously, as she has no speaking role in the comic, the extent of the effect this has on the strip is that she appears with boobs and lipstick; you can check out all of Stiffey’s designs below. Zac DeBoard’s original script was slightly different to the finished product; I’ve also reproduced that below with his notes. Fair warning, we’re about to get a bunch of Franco Villa strips in a row; per a later comment of his on TFW2005: “I'm afraid I clogged the project and I'm very sorry for this: I made some timing mistakes in sending the pieces and I ended up piling them up in a very short time span. After this bulk, however, I slowed down everything, in order to give room back to other authors (as it must be).”

Panel 1.

(A three fingered metallic clawed hand is digging through what looks like rock.)

CAPTION: It took us stellar cycles to dig our way out of the hardened magma.

Panel 2.

(another image of the hand, this time showing more of the arm.  This is transmetal Terrorsaur.  Nearby another arm, golden, and mechanical with a scorpion claw at the end is digging at another area.  This is transmetal Scorponok)

CAPTION: Chances are we've been presumed dead by Maximal and Predacon alike.

CAPTION: If that quantum surge hadn't hit the two of us before we fell into the lava, we would be.

Panel 3.

(Here there would be a flashback image of Terrorsaur and Scorponok falling into the lava as the Transwarp energy that created the Transmetals washes over them)

CAPTION: But now we have returned and both Primal and Megatron will suffer our wrath.

Panel 4.

Terrorsaur and Scorponok are free.  They are in the ruins of the Darksyde.  Terrorsaur has his hands up in the air as if he was claiming victory. Before he can act further, he and Scorponok find themselves surrounded by LioConvoy and the newest incarnation of the Pack (*see notes)

WASPINATOR: "Waspinator do good?"

LIOCONVOY:  "Your knowledge of the planet and your former comrades has been invaluable. Although I'm quite surprised to find these Preds functioning"

TERRORSAUR:  "What the Pit is this?"

LIOCONVOY: "The Beast Wars have been over for years.  We're just here to tidy up loose ends and preserve history. Surrender and come peacefully or fight and come in pieces."

Panel 5.

Terrorsaur and Scorponok raise there hands in surrender.  Terrorsaur sighs.

TERRORSAUR: I should've stayed in stasis lock..." This is the original version of the Beast Wars story I wanted to do for Mosaic. We are going in a slightly different direction with it, so, once I had permission, I thought I would post it and let you guys read it. Lemme know what you think.

This is written as it would be for an actual Mosaic, with Panel descriptions and what not. These are the original notes I wrote.

NOTES: Scorponok is based on his transmetal form from the Beast Wars Sourcebook although his head would be closer in looks to his original.

Maybe as the 2 Preds are coming out of the lava, Megatron's rubber duckie could be laying on the ground.

The Pack...since this takes place after Beast Machines they would all have the new Maximal badge

The new Pack would consist of original members Longrack, Break, Stampy, Mach Kick and LioConvoy (who would appear here in his Lio Prime form which is the Leobreaker mold with the Lioconvoy colors) also Grimlock and transmetal Waspinator who would also now have a maximal badge as well

I have this picture in my head of Stampy holding a huge weapon...like bigger than he is.

[blazregaliadream]

Entry No. BRD~ASW: Conflicted Identity

... I’ve wanted to talk about this for a while. I talked about a part of it on Twitter a few months back, but I really need to get it all off my chest here, whatever shit I get be damned. In 2013-2014, my freshman year of highschool, I got introuced to Arc System Works through junior/senior pals introducin’ me to BlazBlue, a franchise that didn’t take long to take root in my heart. I would end up usin’ it as part of my online handle, “BlazRegaliaDream”, and I have stuck with it as the name I use when I sign my art. I’m not the biggest fan, but BlazBlue was a hyperfixation for 4 years since I discovered it. After a serious burnout in 2018, I tried movin’ my sights onto other franchises, but the love held on as a tiny ember that I’d occassionally stoke from just playin’ BBTAG and eventually findin’ a couple of close friends to talk about the franchise and keep tabs on it. Also throughout this time, I also would eye Guilty Gear, seen it around between XX and Xrd, and while it didn’t become a hyperfixation, I thought it was pretty cool. (and I still do lol) Fast forward to 2021. StrIVe has been out, haven’t played it yet. Friends are deep into the JP exclusive mobile BlazBlue Alternative: Dark War, which started at the beginnin’ of the same year. I was eyein’ it, but didn’t wanna sink into another mobile since I already had FEH and FGO (with a few others I fell in and out of). October, I revisit my old BB OC project and then on a whim, I decided to try BBDW. Wouldn’t you know it, I fell in love with BlazBlue all over again and even if I was stuck with a mobile game for new content, I was ready for the future of the franchise post-C-series. And then a month in, BBDW was announced to shutdown in January due to morale issues for the team. “Well shit, I mean, maybe there’s still a shot later, right?” 2022, creator of BlazBlue, Mori, leaves ASW for reasons we may never know. ASW insists that they still want to keep BB alive, but later, an interview reveals they’re supposedly lettin’ GG hog the spotlight because they don’t want the two franchises competin’ Between this and the awful, awful disaster that was Bridget’s return to StrIVe, everythin’ begins lookin’ all too dire... I hate the current state of ArcSystemWorks. I’m so conflicted, so angry with this company, and I just don’t know how to articulate it all so smoothly. My favorite franchise may as well be dead, 6 feet buried, as the creator has left and started his own company and who knows if they’d bother to get him for a new entry, and with the shit surroundin’ StrIVe, I don’t think I can trust this company to revive BlazBlue proper. Is Team Blue even still a thing? It feels like after everythin’, I’ve been gut punched and spitted in the face.

... *sigh* Dammit, there's much I wanted to say, but as I'm typin' this, the words have fled.

I'm just lost. Where do I go from here? The company I once admired just fills me with nothin' but fury, and GG ain't even the first franchise I've seen to pull the shit it has and for what!?

I've thought about rebrandin' before, but I'm too attached to the handle even after everythin', yet still... I just wanted people to see how cool BlazBlue is, and the monkey's paw curled...

(I'll be fine, in case anyone's worried. This shit just sucks too much...)

[jariyala-string]

QUESTIONS ANSWERED.

Has anyone asked me any questions about Jariyala? Actually, yes… But only family and some friends. Most of these questions are ones that I think would be asked, so, I’ll just answer them here.

Read tags before reading this if you’re here for Saku content! This post doesn’t actually have anything to do with Sakuverse, I just mentioned him lol

What is ‘The String Of Jariyala’?

It’s complicated. Years, millennias ago, the Gods of Dochke created the first planet ever (to be known by them), Crenat. This planet was beautiful. Trees covered the lands, pools of water peppered across the plains and mountains. It was luxury, paradise. It was so beautiful, they wanted more planets like this. 27 total planets were created over the course of 900 years, each one having different people, cultures, landscapes, yet all of them were gorgeous. The greenery, the clear water, the birds that flew overhead. It was perfection.

But, of course, bad people must revoke others pleasure. Unknown beings came and attempted to colonise these planes, unaware of the almighty God, Callitri. Her power was like no other, she was the creator of Jariyala and majority of its contents. She created the other Gods using matter of space. She was the ultimate creator. It seemed like they wanted to challenge that, though.

Liviam, the person leading the attack on Jariyala taunted Callitri — leading to a battle. It was lengthy and tense, though the people on Crenat (where the battle took place) did not worry as they knew Callitri always came out victorious. And that she did, yet her power was stripped from her being. No more planets or supernatural life could be created, leaving the 27 planets to stand as they were.

There was another problem though. With the arrival of Liviam and her ‘minions’ from a different time line and dimension, it broke the time string in Jariyala. Time splits and threads connecting and straying from the planets were now visible. Although it created a fine piece of art, the time gaps were presumptuously dangerous.

What’s Vaularan and why is it important?

Vaularan is not technically anymore important than the other planets, though it’s the planet I’ve been putting the most care into. I don’t know why I’m so attached to it, I just am…

Who is Callitri?

A star. One singular star in an epitome of darkness. The only source of hope, the only light, the only life. This star developed for billions of years, until it finally exploded and a being was born. A woman. Long, white hair, pale skin, rose tinted cheeks. A radiating complexion, delicate features. She was Callitri.

Who are the Gods of Dochke?

Ah~ I couldn’t possibly answer this all in one post. Their lore and stories are so incredibly lengthy, I’d have to make a post for each individual God! In short, they are all ‘humans’ born from Solar matter. All of them contributed to the making of Jariyala, and each God has at lease one planet to their name. There are 11 Gods total. There is also a superstition with the people that the reason Jariyala was invaded was because they didn’t have an even number of Gods.

Why are you making a fantasy world?

To occupy myself for the next decade.

How long have you been doing it for?

Around 4-5 months. Not super long, although, I feel as if my progress in that time is quite commendable.

Do they speak English in Jariyala?

No. I am working on a universal language for them called ‘Faytir’.

How do you come up with names for planets, languages, people, etc.?

I’ll be honest… I just put a bunch of letters on a page and combine them together LOL. It usually comes out with a good name, though I should’ve really started the language first as I’ve made it harder for myself.

Are you going to turn the story of Jariyala into a book?

Hm. I have thought about it, yet I’m still not so sure. I think I’d have to really think about it. But, the chances of me doing so are low.

What made you want to start a fantasy world?

*Sigh*. I listen to a lot of ASMR boyfriend type audios on YouTube… yes, I know. It’s strange. But, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t of started doing this. There’s this one VA called @/zsakuva, his story audios are INSANELY good btw. He focuses more on lore and not gushy mushy romance, so I’d recommend checking him out! But, yes, Saku has been making his own world for 10 years I believe? And the amount of progress he’s made and the WORLD he’s made is fascinating. I was so unbelievably impressed with what he has done, and my mind was like ‘woahhh I wanna do that!’. So, here I am! Thank you, Saku! (If he for some reason sees this plsplspls I need another Xanthus audio… his story is so interesting!)

Do they have holidays like Earth do?

Yes! But, not like Christmas and Halloween and all the other corny, expensive holidays.

Each year, in June (I haven’t thought of names for months yet), they have the ‘Soldena Xyomen’ [pronounced sul•den•uh uhks•yo•men]. The Soldena Xyomen translates to ‘Summer Starting’ and the event is literally that. The Jariyalan’s LOVE soldena. The food, the dancing, the performances. Everything about soldena is exciting for them. So, the seventh Dochken God (Ywoei) decided to make it a holiday.

Another large holiday is the opposite of Soldena Xyomen, it’s Kaopana Xyomen (Winter Starting). Again, they love kaopana for the same reasons they love soldena. There are more holidays, but they’re still a WIP.

So, that’s all the questions I can think of for now! If anymore get asked, then I will add them to this list.

[drafthorsemath]

Author Self Promotion?

Rule: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to Ao3. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics. Thanks for the tag @ct-9902

So, I’m breaking the rules and only including my more current fic.  The stuff from eight years ago... it doesn’t count.

Note: The first one is explicit in parts, but the others are suitable for everyone

1. A Different Kind of Family

“Tech, are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be,” Hunter asked warily as they landed on Arbra.

“I followed Rex’s directions precisely,” Tech replied. “This planet is inhabitable, and the forest should at least give us good cover to try to hide.”

“Well how will we know where to find these people?” Echo asked. “We’re just supposed to land and they show up?”

“There is not much here,” replied Tech. “I imagine they will know what to look for. If no one comes, at least we found a place to rest.”

Stepping off the Havoc Marauder, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They were hungry, low on water and other supplies, and the ship needed some repairs, but they landed.

“There should be an outpost of sorts in that direction,” Tech pointed, “but it is already late in the day. I’m also picking up a heat signature. Possibly shelter.”

“We’ll wait until tomorrow,” Hunter decided. “We don’t want to sti-”

They drew their weapons, knowing Hunter sensed something. Wrecker and Crosshair stepped between Omega and the direction Hunter was facing. Someone was out there. Hunter heard two sets of footsteps.

2. Hair Dye

“Omega! Time to eat,” Echo poked his head inside the ship trying to find his sister.

“Coming!” She put her sketch pad down next to her paints.  In a rush, she knocked over some bottles of paint, but left them once she saw they weren’t leaking.  She jumped down and headed outside where everyone was sitting around a fire.  

Tech handed her a plate. “Practicing your art again?”

She nodded.  “I’m working on getting more details right.”

“My favorite painting is the one you did of Lula and me,” Wrecker said with a grin.

She smiled.  Her art covered the walls of the ship.  Even the pieces she knew were not her best work were treasured by her brothers.  They always encouraged her.  “If you love something, you should keep at it as long as it makes you happy.”  Echo had told her that one day when she cried over a piece she tried so hard on, but just couldn’t get right in her own eyes.

3. Target Practice

Hunter’s eyes were open as soon as he heard the shot.

“I heard it too,” said Crosshair. The Marauder was open with Echo not far away, with no danger in sight. Hunter and Crosshair took a simultaneous deep breath, looked at each other, and stepped off the ship.

“Trouble sleeping?” Hunter asked, as Echo turned around.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Echo sighed. It started to snow heavily and although it was cold outside, he couldn’t calm his mind enough to sleep. “We all learned how to shoot with both hands, but, well, I’ve always been right-handed. Going straight for a blaster with my left still takes a moment to process. I don’t want to let anyone down.”

“Your aim seemed fine on Skako Minor,” replied Crosshair, brushing away some snowflakes that tried to land on his eyelashes.

Echo smiled slightly and replied, “I think most of that was adrenaline.” He took aim at a distant rock and hit it precisely.

4. Breakfast Revelations

"What are we having today?" Omega walked in and tossed her helmet in her room.

Echo finished whistling his tune in the kitchen before replying, "Pancakes, with bantha milk butter and Jogan fruit jam."

"I will just have two," said Tech. "My stomach is still not fully recovered from Wrecker's landing job."

"Hey! I got us here without crashing, didn't I?" Wrecker replied defensively.

"Well I don't care how many you eat as long as someone else washes the dishes," came Echo's reply. "First pancake's up. Omega first."

Hunter rushed in. "Guys! AZ has some vital information..."

AZ spun through the door with a "Greetings! I am AZ- 34521189..."

"WE KNOW!"

Okay, so I don’t know who to tag that hasn’t been tagged.�� But if you want to participate please do so! I’m always looking for more to read.

[hannahhasafact]

Art in review 2024!

I know this is a bit of a mess and not even in a template form, but last year I didn’t even post any art in review. So there’s that I suppose! (Tbh I started to get frustrated with my old template because it was month to month; I’ve noticed some months I do a lot of pieces that I like while I truly don’t like/don’t do art the next month. It annoyed me.)

But anyways! Here is a smattering of art that I did this year.

I will forever be simultaneously be my own biggest fan and my biggest critic. With that, I will always be proud of myself for playing around with things stylistically! Like I like looking back on my art and not seeing the same face a bajillion times. Sure, I can get a lil “same face”-y but I know that I try to play with different art styles! And I do like that I try to do that.

Some positives of this year:

Like I said before, variety! I experimented with some things and I think that those were the drawings that turned out the best!

Character interaction! I think this was my art goal from the year before as well, but this year I can literally see how much I had characters interacting with one another!

And the cons:

I’ve been feeling like all of my art is very 2 dimensional and flat. Even when it’s a scene, it just feels pasted to a wall. Like even previous art doesn’t feel as flat… so I’d like to work on that.

I really struggled with anatomy this year??? Which annoys me, because I use references a lot. Sigh. Guess a thing to practice.

I was looking at my art this year thinking “I swear I drew more” which I did!!! But oh my god there’s truly so much art I did not finish.

Regarding the last one. The biggest issue I run into a lot with my art is I always want to make BIG pieces, and then I get frustrated because it’s so much work! Unfortunately for me, a lot of the shows I like are massive ensemble shows… so I always wanna draw stuff with like 4+ people, and that becomes a lot. I also really wanna make comics! But then they end up being like 10 pages and again, I don’t finish them. It’s something I’ve always struggled with. So, much like every other year, I’m going to ATTEMPT to make more small art. Which again, is hard for me.

So! Goals for next year: 1. FINISH THINGS. (my goal every year lol) 2. Work on making art more 3 dimensional. 3. Practice anatomy!

May 2025 be kind to us all, and may we all continue to create art!

**a small additional note for myself:

It’s also been about a decade since I started doing digital art (I got my first art tablet in 2014) and just

In some ways I look at this in comparison to now and think “god I’ve barely improved” but then I look at little bit closer and I’m just like

You understand line weigh so much better now

You have a better understanding of how an eyebrow affects an expression/how it affects weight in the face more now versus just throwing a sad brow on the face

You have more warmth in your coloring

It might not seem like you know so much more now to yourself but oh my god you know so much more now

And that’s nice in a way

[herebetreasure]

The Village Barn, Tyrrellspass Wedding Entertainment by Caricaturist Allan Cavanagh

I had a wonderful time entertaining the guests at this recent wedding in The Village Barn, Tyrrellspass, Co. Westmeath. This venue is a hidden gem, and I do mean hidden, my first time there I was walking up and down the street looking for it until someone gave a sigh and said, are you looking for the Barn? Once I'd found my way to Narnia I was blown away by this cute, quirky venue and had an absolute blast that day too! One of the buildings is The Orangery, which is an eccentric little bar full of greenery and delightfully mismatched furniture and antiques and so many other bits of ephemera with to catch the eye. I've always gotten a warm reception on arrival there with staff going out of their way to make sure I have everything I need and this wedding was no exception! Below you can see a gallery of Village Barn wedding photos featuring my many sitters on the day! Each couple you see below was drawn in under 4 minutes! Here is the review for my wedding caricatures from the bride: "We had Allan at our wedding on 11.10.24. We couldn't have been happier with him ! He arrived on time set up and was flat out all day doing his most amazing caricatures . Don't hesitate to book him , he is a fantastic artist and a really lovely guy." Thanks so much Kate! More Westmeath Weddings: - Annebrook House Wedding - Mount Druid Boutique Wedding - Bloomfield House Hotel Wedding - See even more wedding caricatures from all over Ireland here! Want to order a caricature? Click here. Want to make an enquiry? Click here. See my reviews here. See even more examples of my art at the bottom of this post! I'm Allan Cavanagh and I have been professionally producing caricatures and cartoon art for over 20 years. Want to follow my socials? Click here for Caricatures by Allan Cavanagh on Facebook and click here for Allan Cavanagh's Instagram. Read the full article

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Do you have any fic recs of Sherlock being soft for John and John only.

Hey Nonny! 

Ahhhhhhhh your request had me thinking that yes I do, and I did tag a few fics with “soft Sherlock”, but I’ve never started a list, so here ya go!

SOFT SHERLOCK

See also: Sherlock Soft With Children

Soft. Happy. Content. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 223 w., 1 Ch. || Sleepy Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Spooning, Morning After, Sherlock POV) – Sherlock reflects on his state of mind. Part 6 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

A Perfect Figure by ecb327 (K, 622 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, First Person POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Light Angst) – Sherlock build a spot in his mind palace for John.

I Knew You Loved Me by inevitably_johnlocked (T, 743 w., 1 Ch. || Morning Cuddles, Fluff, Clingy Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slice of Life, Morning After, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Declarations of Love, Pet Name, Bed Sharing, Snuggles) – John and Sherlock share a lie-in the morning after their first time. So fluffy and gross your teeth will fall out. Part 4 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Peacock by ClassyGirlsWearPearls (T, 1,189 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Cranky Sherlock, Soft John, Hand Holding, Soft Sherlock) – A study in Sherlock and John.

Mizzle by MrsNoggin (K, 1,233 w., 1 Ch || Friendship, Fluff, Platonic Johnlock, Humour, Slice of Life) – John can't decide if it's raining or not. Sherlock doesn't understand.

And, Usually, He's the One Who GIVES Me a Headache by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,315 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, POV John, Cranky John, Headaches, Head Massage) – A migraine is never fun.

Together is What we Have, Together Protects Us by Phantom of the Black Pearl (K+, 1,566 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Platonic or Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock, Slice of Life) – After a case one evening in the flat Sherlock voices a concern that causes the pair to consider why they've chosen to stick together after all that's happened

Here to Stay by MockJayPhoenix12 (K, 1,574 w., 1 Ch. || Post Reunion, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Headache, Bed Sharing, Care Taker Sherlock, Hand Holding, Fluff) – On Sherlock's first day home, John wakes with a migraine.

Evermore by SosoHolmesWatson (G, 2,068 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4,  5-Year-Old Rosie, Love Confessions, Song Fic, Parentlock, Oblivious John, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Disney Songs, Beauty and the Beast) – For the past years, John and Sherlock have lived at Baker Street again, raising Rosie together--as friends and nothing more. Ever since the little girl has watched her first Disney movie, she is obsessed with princesses. When John comes home one day, he finds his friend and his daughter in the middle of a reenactment of her current favourite. Part 1 of Made of Music

Let the Sun Fade Out by nothingislittle (E, 2,711 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff & Smut, Praise Kink, PWP, Obsessed Sherlock, Bottomlock, Heart-Tearing Love) – "He could warm the sun itself, Sherlock thinks, could heat their flat with just his presence, could brighten the room with one dazzling smile or just the sparkling in his eyes. John is everything, he’s beautiful and he shines, he’s everything."

Unquantifiable by 221b_hound (M, 2,799 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Sherlock/Sally Friendship, Grumpy John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pet Names, Texting, Sweet Sherlock, Princess Bride References) – John remains a terrible and foul-tempered patient, but he does try to make up for it with pet names and text message silliness. In the meantime, Sally Donovan visits Baker Street for a hint about the Milverton case, and has to deal with a Sherlock Holmes who can't find words big enough to thank her for saving John's life at the warehouse. For afters, there's a viewing of The Princess Bride. Part 33 of the Unkissed series

Pillow Talk by 221b_hound (E, 2,925 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, Est. Rel., Preening Sherlock, Limpet Sherlock, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Sex on Furniture, Scent Kink, Masturbation, Fluff, Soft Sherlock,  Sherlock’s Bum) – John gets home late from work and Sherlock is nowhere to be seen. John walks through the flat, distracted by memories of all the excellent sex they've been having, and finally finds Sherlock asleep in the upstairs room - apparently having fallen asleep mid-wank while inhaling the scent of John's pillow. Well, you should always finish what you start, John thinks... Part 3 of Lock and Key

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it's time to act.

Affirmation by jamlockk (E, 3,096 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Dev. Rel., PWP, Love Declarations, Emotional/Overwhelmed Sherlock, Comforting/Caring John, Gross Fluff) – "Sunlight dappled John's skin, casting a glow across his spreadeagled form as he dozed among the rumpled sheets. Sherlock knew the expression on his face was hopelessly soft but for once did not care about showing his true feelings so openly. He simply stood there, in the doorway, gazing at the impossibly beautiful man currently snuffling softly in his slumber." Part 8 of All the ways we love

Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w., 1 Ch. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming, Multiple Orgasms) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock's belly.

Morning Sunlight by slashscribe (E, 3,565 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Morning Sex, Fluff, PWP, Established Rel., Soft Idiots) – A thin band of soft morning light peeks between the curtains and stretches across John’s torso, laying dormant across his forearm, dipping into the space between his arm and his chest, illuminating his right nipple but just brushing the edge of his left, disappearing into his armpit, and reappearing again right over Sherlock’s eyes where his head rests, nestled against John’s shoulder. Sherlock is not annoyed by the light’s intrusion on his sleep, not when it rests so soft and tantalizing on John’s skin, a work of unintentionally erotic art. A PWP with so much emotion.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

Date Night by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 4,451 w., 1 Ch. || Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Caring John, Schmoopy Fluff, Fidget Cube, Baking / Cooking, Date Night, Established Relationship, POV Sherlock Holmes, Understanding John, Grumpy Sherlock, John’s Bum, Kisses, Hugs, Domestic Fluff, Touching, Hair Petting, Light Humour) – It's John and Sherlock's first Date Night as an official couple and Sherlock needs it to be PERFECT. Mrs Hudson helps. Part 7 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, First Person Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

all things warm and tender by darcylindbergh (E, 5,177 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Romantic Fluff, Rimming/Anal/BJ’s, Body Worship) – Grinning and giggling, John slides back down under the sheet and pulls it over his head. He finds Sherlock waiting for him, eyes bright and hair wild, the firelight bleeding through the thin fabric, colouring everything in soft peach and topaz, and in that moment he is so suddenly, unexpectedly, ethereally beautiful that John forgets how to breathe.

Pillow Talk by scullyseviltwin (M, 5,183 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Angsty Fluff, Pillow Talk, Bed Sharing, Worried John, First Time Morning After, Soft Sherlock, Sexuality Discussion, Love Confessions, Kisses and Cuddles) – John has been looking at Sherlock for ages, it feels like.

a very soft epilogue (my love) by darcylindbergh (E, 5,395 w., 3 Ch. || Retirement, Domestic Fluff, Dancing, Dogs, Grumpy Old Men) – Across the pillows, Sherlock shifts and hums, the creases of his face deepening and then smoothing before settling. John watches him wake up, his chest swelling with affection and fondness, and thinks he’ll never get tired of Sherlock in the mornings, sleepy and soft. It’s been some forty-odd years, and John hasn’t gotten tired of it yet. Part 5 of things fairy tales are made of

Naked by sussexbound (E, 6,166 w., 1 Ch. || Frottage, Fluff, Intimacy, First Time, Love Declarations, Trust) – John takes a deep breath, and then lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Sherlock, how would you feel if you were sitting out here doing one of your bloody experiments, and I just waltzed out of the loo and started fixing myself breakfast completely starkers? Hmm…? ”Sherlock’s lips inch up at the corners into a pleased hint of a smile he can’t seem to suppress. Part 2 of Intimacy

Christmas by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 7,673 w., 1 Ch. || Worried Sherlock, PWP, Drunkeness, Christmas, Est. Relationship, Idiots So In Love) – John feels a lump rise in his throat, and it hits him, again, that this beautiful, infuriating creature is his. Completely, one-hundred percent his.

How To Give Your Boyfriend Who Doesn't Know He's Your Boyfriend the Best Valentine's Day Ever by unicornpoe (T, 9,832 w., 1 Ch. || Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Crack, Soft Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock is pretty sure that John Watson is his boyfriend. He's also pretty sure that John doesn't know it. But with a little help from a magazine, some friends, three crepes, five dates, one awesome CD, and a stalker van, John is bound to realize just in time for Valentine's Day.

Someone I Love by hudders-and-hiddles (M, 10,002 w., 2 Ch. || Canon Compliant, HLV-Filler Fic, Pre-Slash, Jealous John, PIning Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, UST/URT, Dog Tags) – John gets married and Sherlock finds comfort in wearing John's identity tags around his wrist.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

holding steady by darcylindbergh (E, 12,724 w., 4 Ch. || Post S4, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Growing Old, Gone Fishing, Mood without Plot, Soft Sherlock, Caring Sherlock, POV John Third Person, Anxious Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Touching, Feeling Old, Sherlock Worship, Crying Sherlock, Cuddles, Comforting, Introspection, Retirement, Hand Holding, Forehead Kisses, Caring John, Bed Sharing, Emotional Love Making) – Sitting on a thick wool blanket at the end of a rickety dock side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge, a styrofoam container of wet, dark dirt between them, they’re fishing. John knows what this is about. This is about finally figuring it out.

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John,  Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

[lambourngb]

2021 Creator’s Wrap

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2021. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by the wonderful @adiwriting​ - as I begin a new year, why not look back at the last one?

1. stuck in gravity, clawing for some bravery - (23,000) Alien soulmate bullshit. It’s probably what keeps me in RNM year after year, I just dig the dynamic. This was one of the easiest stories I’ve ever written, less than 3 weeks I think? A season 2 hiatus fic, that doesn’t hold up at all in season 3 - I had Alex staying put for the year jump and actually dating Forrest, lol.

2. in the cracks of light (letters addressed to the fire) (7,300) - I used to say I could only write canon-compliant stories, or canon-divergent AUs, and then I wrote this story in about 2-3 days. Set on Oasis, with Alex as the reluctant war-prize, this fic has a lot of “heavy” tags, but I really had fun giving Alex all the power here as the captive.

3. what the years have made dry (wildfire heart) - (6,900) - the first Malex interaction in season 3 was certainly ....something.  I used my mixed feeling about the episode to write this post-ep, and I really am proud of it. Although we got a bit of this in 3x06 and 3x11, I really love the Sanders/Michael dynamic. He needs someone completely in his corner that is not a sibling or a love interest (or ex-love interest, or dating a sibling of his) - Sanders gives Michael that. I wrote or attempted to write a lot of post-eps in season 3 but I’m too slow of a writer to be very successful in fitting with canon, but I think this one still stands up well.

4. all around are familiar faces (9,600 - WIP) - like I said, I attempted to write a speculative fic for 3x08 based on the spoilers, all I knew was Maria would be in her mind, in the past trying to evade Jones, and there was a still of Alex, Michael and Maria at the Wild Pony. Now that season 3 is over, I’m even more committed to this ...AU of 3x08, because I find it a little unfair that Maria, Isobel, Rosa, and even Alex (although he was hallucinating) - was able to interact with Nora, but not her son, not Michael- all he had was Max’s vague memories of being chained up on Oasis and Jones taunting him about his mother’s mouth. Sigh. I have about 6,000 more words to write on this (including a real Malex reconciliation that includes TALKING ), and hope to finish it in 2022 when my brain comes back.

last but not least,

5. Appetite for Destruction (20,000) - I wrote this for malex santa, for Nestra, and for myself, because I needed a tighter ending to season 3. It probably wasn’t the right moment to release a fic that handles season 3 canon and the retconning of Michael’s powers during a time when soft christmas stories were being posted but alas, this is what the muse wanted to write. I’ve been dealing with post-season writer’s block, trying to finish a number of WIPs I have in progress, but what jumps out at me is always my desire to fix canon, or explain canon. So I love this story, I loved doing something new with writing Dallas, doing something uncomfortable- writing something a little religious, and of course, I loved writing Malex as a power couple supporting each other (gimme more of that in season 4)

tagging some mutuals that I haven’t seen tagged... probably leaving way too many off - @jule1122, @goodthingsarenteasytoget, @andrea-lyn, @ravens-words, @adamsparirsh, @alexmanesss, @winged-fool, @changingthingslikeleaves, @im-the-punk-who, @jocarthage, @myrmidryad, @prouvaireafterdark, @skinsharpenedteeth , @arielana and @manesframe !!! How did I miss you 😂❤️

[altcvnningham]

strings | johnny silverhand

summary: a storm passes through night city, but it isn't that which wakes her. it's the soft sound of guitar strings, being plucked by chrome fingers.

words: 1280

pairing: johnny silverhand / fem v (my v vana, but i avoid physical description, so read the name as whatever you like!!)

content: fluff, mild angst, Yearning™️, johnny plays guitar and it's rly therapeutic

warnings: SPOILERS, death mention, johnny shuts up for once so maybe mildly ooc, idk how guitars work

misc: soooo after listening to this on loop for the last forever, i just needed to vent and get this outta my system. i do use my v's name (vana) in this, but there's no physical description of her, so feel free to imagine v as your own!! also, it's been almost 4 years since i've officially posted any of my writing online, so while this is a little rough and not as detailed as i'd usually like, please be kind, and please enjoy!! (also ao3 link soon maybe but i'm lazy)

***

V doesn’t know what day it is when she awakes, but she does so to the quiet twang of guitar strings.

The metal blinds slide open, aware of her waking, and the morning spills into the room, dim and grey. Rain patters against the glass, and V, with her eyes still closed, curls deeper into the bedsheets to fend off the cold, away from the light towards the dark shelter of the wall. Night City can wait. She’ll enjoy this strange, soft music while it lasts.

Fingers pluck on quietly, nary a breath nor sigh to indicate the person playing. It’s a somber melody, a blue tune teased with the vague, cruel implication of hope, heartbreak, contentment. There‘s something in the way the music seems to move around the room and still the world, something timeless and calm yet so tenderly desperate about it- she feels sad and happy all at once, and suddenly, to be alive- to be dying- seems... a simple, given, painfully temporary thing. It’s a sweet, naïve tune. A fool’s song.

It cuts short.

Razor-sharp static screams in search for a signal. The strumming abruptly stops in response. The radio. It’s automated to switch on when she wakes up.

Then comes a final telltale sigh from the foot of her bed, as some garish pop song resonates brokenly through white noise. Must be a storm, she thinks. Howling wind outside her window confirms it.

A weight rises from the mattress- one that wasn’t there the night before, and V furrows her brows, braving the daylight and turning onto her side to see the figure lifting from the bed.

Chrome fingers curl around the neck of the cheap electric guitar as they prop the instrument back against the bed. A swelling ache closes around Vana’s chest. Loneliness. Separated from him by inches. Feeling without the one bound to the inside of her skull- it's agony.

Johnny. He crosses the room towards the radio in an aimless stride, and he staggers, tired. Vana briefly wonders- occupying her maddened, longing mind with something else- if he’s even capable of feeling that way, or if it’s her own waking lethargy that he feels, that clings to him. It’s usually like that with most things. And he switches the radio off, back arched downwards to reach it. Static finally turns to silence. She sees the thick lock of hair hanging in his eyes, and how he moves it with a careless jerk of his head before sauntering back to the bed again; peculiarly, he’s not wearing the bulletproof vest over his Samurai tank- the projection of the exact same faded shirt she wears now- and without the seemingly invincible façade, he almost looks... normal. Himself, maybe. Of course, when he descends back down to the end of the bed again, the blue glitched fragments of his engram form give him away. Yet somehow, unlike most times, seeing it puts her mind at ease. Not dreaming, at least.

With his back to her, Johnny picks the guitar back up and slings it weightlessly over his knee again. Out of thin air, he materialises a cigarette in his mouth, which wavers absentmindedly between pursed lips as he tunes the guitar and tests each string; Vana watches and remains completely still in her warm, blanket cocoon, not intent on interrupting this rare moment of peace. The rain drums on smoothly. Johnny pauses to pull the cigarette from his mouth. Exhale. Smoke joins in dancing alongside dust motes around the room, and Vana is happy to be alive today.

Johnny adjusts a silver ring on a flesh finger before touching the guitar’s strings again. He hesitates, stops, then straightens himself out before strumming the first note.

And then, it’s as if he loses himself to it- effortlessly playing that same melancholy tune from before without fault, without a sliver of uncertainty. His ‘ganic hand glides along each string with meticulous ease, metal fingers sliding and spreading along each fret, and the bleak light of the storm glints off of each chrome knuckle as he coaxes the music out to fill the quiet. And it's just this. The way in which he messily perfects such a common, mundane art. An ageless, timeless thing. No ugly, restless hand of Night City can snatch this away from her. The way his wrist flicks back with each note, how his hair crowds his face again as he nods slowly along, the heel he fails to notice he’s tapping in rhythm on the floor. For a moment, Johnny Silverhand’s real name lingers like a song in the back of her mind, as distant and unknown as this one, and she wonders if the person at the foot of her bed is him, that fragmented man lost in time.

Alt had said that Soulkiller does exactly by its name, that the soul dies the moment the consciousness is extracted. But watching him now, Vana refuses to believe that the glitched apparition at the foot of her bed is void of that, that same soul that inhabited the real Johnny Silverhand, that this engram isn’t as tangible and complex and real and feeling as she herself is. This projection of him, an amalgamation of every conscious want, need, thought and whim of a man who once existed- and this projection, he wakes up before her, on a morning as cold and grey and miserable as this, and plays a song for no discernible reason at all other than simply wanting to. Feeling like it.

No soul. She could weep- there's soul in every string.

Vana jostles free of the blanket and pushes herself forward, shifting to her knees. Johnny’s old dogtags, a relic of his past that dangle around her neck, clink together with each steady movement she makes towards him- terrified he’d stop playing for even a second- and she sits cross-legged behind him, facing the slender, flexing muscles of his back as he strums. She hugs herself, cold, shivering. He keeps playing. It’s bliss. She’s overcome with a sudden indescribable fondness, so much so that were she any braver in her vulnerability, any kinder to her feeling self, she’d let it bring a tear to her eye.

But Vana can only muster turning her head to the side, and resting her lonely cheek against the center of his back, desperate to feel every single breath that comes and leaves his vague, digital body. Perhaps it’s her own warmth she feels, reflecting back at her from Johnny’s feelings and senses, but she swears she feels him, hot beneath her cheek as though he were flesh and blood. The illusion is just enough that she doesn’t slip through him entirely. Perhaps, this will simply do.

Yes... fleeting as it is, as all things are, this moment is just... okay.

The song ends. Johnny plucks the final string. The chord fades out into a low, droning hum, until all that’s left is the rain on the window, the torrid rolling of the storm, and his calm, firm breaths, moving against her.

She forgets she's dying. And she would happily fall asleep again, right here, with the very thing that kills her, drinking in the song he’s let steep in the silence around them. But he slowly lowers the guitar, his body shifting beneath Vana’s unflinching cheek. Eyes fluttering shut once more, she feels him twist as he turns around, and how he catches her body in slacked repose, and finally- almost as if he wants to, as if he cares- the tangled threading of cold, metal fingers through her hair, towing her under the dark dwelling of sleep once more.

“I got you.”

[mmvalentine]

The Pianist pt 6 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 7

Jude woke alone in her apartment and tucked into bed, even though she was pretty sure she fell asleep on the floor.

Things went back to normal: she woke up early, went to work, then tried to sleep while Cardan made a racket. Over the next few days, however, she noticed that Cardan started to cut off his practice time at a reasonable hour, and, surprised by the silence, Jude sang in the evenings instead. She wondered vaguely about her downstairs neighbour, and whether she was the new nuisance, now.

Cardan stopped appearing at the diner with his friends and without him, they were still annoying as all hell, but somehow seemed a little lackluster. She still ran into Cardan around the apartment building, but did not see that much of him. And they never did talk about that kiss.

Until one day, Cardan burst through the doors of Java Island where she was working the morning shift. Jude was startled to see him, not least because she'd never known Cardan to be awake at all in the morning.

"There you are!" he said. "I've been looking everywhere for you. I went to the apartment, to the diner, to the subway... I'm so glad I found you."

"Yes... at my job. Why are you looking for me?"

Cardan paused to catch his breath. "There's a talent scout coming into school today," he said. "They come around once a year, and they hire for big companies and producers. On more than one occasion, they've offered a record deal on the spot."

"So?" Jude asked. "I don't go to Juilliard, what does this have to do with me?"

But Cardan shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I've booked a practice room until 9am, and if you're in there you've got a chance to be seen. But you have to come now."

Jude bit her lip. She knew full well if she walked out in the middle of a shift, she'd lose this job. And she couldn't afford rent on just the other two.

On the other hand.

Jude threw her apron onto the counter, and ran with Cardan.

Cardan led her through the doors of the famed school of arts, and Jude barely had a chance to gawk at the soaring ceilings and towering glass walls. Cardan pulled her down several hallways and into a practice room, and the clock on the wall told her the time was 8:45am.

"Okay," he said, speaking quickly. "We walked straight past the scout, did you see him? Small man, round glasses."

"No, I-"

"Doesn't matter," Cardan cut her off. "The point is he's coming, and you need to start singing now."

"What do I sing?!" Jude asked, too panicked to be embarrassed at the desperation in her voice.

"I don't know, fucking anything!" Cardan hissed back. "Okay, sing... 'Ain't No Sunshine'. Like that day we first saw you."

He sat down at the piano and started up the song, and Jude had to take a second to piece her brain back together. Cardan nodded at her encouragingly, even sang the first couple of lines to her before she finally got a hold of herself and picked up half way through the first verse.

It wasn't a moment too soon because the next thing she knew, the scout was standing in the doorway. Jude shot an alarmed look at Cardan, but he just fixed her with a stern gaze as if to say keep going. And so Jude sang.

The thing about singing was, as nervous as she was to begin, she never felt nervous when she was in the middle of it. There was something so grounding about singing, and soon the little room and the man with the glasses and even Cardan at the piano faded away, and there was just the song.

So when she opened her eyes, she was disappointed to see that the scout had left the room before she finished her song, and she hadn't even noticed. Jude sighed, and rubbed her face. It was worth a try.

But when she looked back toward Cardan, he was smiling. Possibly the widest smile she had ever seen on his sharp face.

"He loved you," Cardan said.

"What?"

"He. Loved. You."

"He walked out."

"They never stay for long, that's normal."

"Then how do you know-"

"Jude."

And then Cardan looked pointedly at the end of the grand piano. Jude followed his gaze and there, on the glossy black surface, was a simple, white business card.

Jude walked slowly toward it and picked it up. Turned it over in her hands. The card read:

'Bryern Phooka. Agent.' Then a number, an email address, and on the back, a hand written note.

Great voice, kid. Call me in the morning and let's set up a meeting.

Jude read the note three times. She looked up at Cardan, who was still grinning. Then back to the note, and back to Cardan, and then a hysterical laugh bubbled up her throat.

Cardan came over and read the card, then crowed at her, and Jude laughed again and he wrapped her up in a hug and before she could think what she was doing she pressed her lips to his.

//////

Jude pulled away with an embarrassed laugh, and made to walk out the door. But Cardan was faster, and shut it before she could get there.

"Jude," he said, his voice dangerously low.

"Cardan," she mimicked.

"Jude you have to stop doing this to me."

"Doing what?" she asked.

Cardan stepped close to her, and slid his hands under her jaw and behind her hair.

"Leaving me hungry," he replied, and then kissed her again like he could devour her whole and only then would be be sated.

Jude, for once, let him. Didn't fight him, just closed her fingers around his wrists and kissed him back. Cardan could have wept with relief; he didn't know if he could bear it if Jude pushed him away again. He wanted to go slow, to be careful, to not scare her away. But his body had different ideas, and his arms tugged her too tight against him. His teeth bit down too hard into her lips.

But Jude just sighed, and licked his tongue, and Cardan lost it. He picked her up around the waist and set her down on the piano, so that her face was level with his. His fingers gripped the painted wood tightly as her hands slid into his hair, and he groaned when she tugged against his scalp.

Cardan moved his hands to her back and his lips to her neck, and when Jude tilted her head back to give him better access, he wondered if she knew how badly he needed her. Cardan grabbed a hold of her legs above her knees, and slid the hem of her yellow waitress' dress up her thighs. His hands curved around the outside of her legs, and down to her calves, where he yanked her suddenly to the edge of the piano. Jude made a squeaking sound in surprise, and Cardan covered her mouth once more with his.

Now when Cardan kissed her, Jude wrapped her legs around his waist. The warmth of her body was delicious, and Cardan crushed her to him. His cock ached between the restraint of his jeans and the heat of Jude just beyond, and without thinking he rolled his hips against her. Jude moaned a little, and tightened her legs around him.

God, if he could just taste her. Just once.

Cardan's fingernails skimmed up and down the outer sides of her thighs, slipping beneath her skirt, down to her knees and back. His lips found her ear lobe, the pulse in her neck, the hollow in the base of her throat. His hands squeezed, slid up her legs, and when she moaned again, his thumb reached for the cotton of her panties.

And found her soaking wet.

Cardan groaned, and dropped to his knees in front of her. Pushed her legs apart while she sat on the piano and then gripped her hips as he licked his tongue between her legs. Once over her underwear, then once with her underwear pushed to the side. Jude moaned loudly, and her head fell back as her hands caught the surface behind her.

"Cardan," she whispered, and his name in her mouth spurred him on. He plunged his tongue deep inside her, before dragging it back up to flick over her clit, and the sounds Jude made were almost better than when she was singing. Almost.

Cardan laved his tongue over her. And over, and over, and over. Jude's breath came in short pants and her hands twisted in his hair. He sped up his pace, moving back and forth against the apex of her thighs as she started to move her hips up toward him.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Just like that."

Cardan lifted her thighs onto his shoulders and moaned against her pussy. He couldn't speak in the moment but her name went round his head like a song.

"Cardan... Cardan I'm going to come..."

The thought made him even harder, and Cardan reached down and grabbed his cock through his jeans. He was going to finish her off first, and then...

At that moment, there was a loud rap on the door.

"You guys, it's past 10! I have the room booked now!"

Jude's eyes shot to the door, then down to Cardan between her legs. She laughed silently, and tried to pull back from him.

But Cardan wouldn't let her go. He held onto her thighs, and redoubled his efforts. Jude gasped and bit down hard on her lower lip, trying not to make a sound now that someone was standing on the other side of the door.

"Seriously!" the voice came. "I really need to get the hours in!"

Jude was back on track now, Cardan could see it. Her eyes were closed and her mouth moved wordlessly. Her legs had started to shake, and Cardan's tongue moved sure and steady until he could see her knuckles go white on the edge of the piano and then she was coming on his lips.

The climax shook through her in waves, and Cardan made she she had come all the way down before he lifted his mouth, and kissed her on the pussy then on the thigh then on the lips.

He stood, still hard as a rock, and pulled Jude off the piano.

"You guys," the voice whined.

"We're coming!" Cardan barked back, and then smiled at Jude as she readjusted her dress, and miraculously, smiled back at him. He kissed her again, softly, tenderly this time.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asked her. Jude bit her lip.

"I have to get back to the cafe and see if I still have a job," she replied.

"Right. Okay, well don't forget this." Cardan held up the agent's business card between two long fingers, and Jude beamed.

****

So I usually post a smut warning up top but like... spoilers?! Also I figure if you're this far in and you're at all familiar with my fics you know what's coming. Hope that's okay.

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler @thebonecarver

[sope-and-shine]

Written In the Stars: Finale

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, // Mummy!Namjoon, Moon Goddess!Taehyung

-> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader // Taehyung x Reader

-> Word Count: 7k

-> Summary: Life after losing a loved one is challenging, especially when you’ve had the chance to see just how long the two of you have spent passing each other by. With it only being a few weeks since your loss, you’ve found your life has become dull and despondent. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to move on, even with the help of friends.

-> Warning(s): mild language

a/n: I can’t believe we’re actually at the end 😭😭 I’ve put so much time and love into this story and I’m both sad and happy that I’ve been able to finish it! I hope everyone enjoys!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Masterlist

*

*

*

“Ma’am, where’s the restroom?”

You turn and see a father holding a small boy in his arms, and you immediately jump into action, “Take a right out of these doors, down the hall until you see the blue traffic sign, and it’ll be on the right. There should be a Daffodil portrait on the wall right before your turn.”

The man heaves a happy - very relieved - sigh, “Thank you!”

“Of course!” You watch as he speedwalks out of the exhibit and takes off down the hall. You can only hope he actually makes it there.

The day shift has definitely been more exciting. It’s only been a few weeks, but your days have been filled with more excitement since you switched. You tried to continue with the night shift post, but the silence just became too overwhelming. Thankfully, Hoseok seemed to understand when you told him.

You switched back to the day shift in hopes it would help to take your mind off of Namjoon. You thought being surrounded by others would make you feel less lonely, but you can’t help but think about how your life has changed so drastically.

Adjusting to your new life hasn’t been easy. Everywhere you look, you’re reminded of Namjoon. You hear his laugh by the water fountains, you see his hair in crowds on the street, and you can still feel his arms around you at night as you lay in bed.

At first, you thought it was something you could handle. You thought if you embraced his goodbye, then you’d be content to live the rest of your life without him. But no one told you losing love would hurt this bad.

You’ve tried to do other things, like knitting and working out, but you’re not very good at either one - nor do you really like them. Cooking had seemed like a good idea until you realized that meant cleaning the dishes. With every attempt to move on, you seem to take 3 large steps back.

You find yourself going to places Namjoon would have liked. Spontaneous trips to the park lead to long evenings by the river. Extra hours at the museum have you wandering through the exhibits just to look at the art one more time. Even a quick trip to the store has you buying things you’ve never thought to try.

The one place you never go is the King’s exhibit. At least, not of your own free will. It’s only happened twice - once being today - because someone had to call out. And just like the time before, you find yourself at the aquarium.

A place where Namjoon was truly happy.

The touch tanks have quickly become a favorite of yours. They allow you time to think to yourself and drift off, to daydream about a handsome king with an endearing fascination for the world around him.

You like to visit the crabs the most. Mostly because you know Namjoon would if he could. He thought they were the cutest on your outing together, and holding the tiny creature in your palm you can see why.

“Ow!” You flinch at the small pinch from the crustacean. Your hands jerk, but you try to protect the crab the best you can without dropping it.

“Here-” A large hand reaches in front of you and plucks the crab from your hands, “These guys get a little finicky when you hold them up too high.”

You place your thumb over the pinch and turn to him, “Really? I can’t-” You pause mid-sentence.

Now, looking at the crab’s savior, you see him. Lilac strands poke out of the blue university hat he’s wearing. His khaki shorts are worn and just barely reach his knees, and his sneakers are all worn out. Even the socks he’s wearing have slightly lost their vibrance. His baggy t-shirt doesn’t hide the fact that he’s more fit than he was a few weeks ago, but a few weeks ago he had disappeared right in front of you. But there’s no mistaking that dimpled smile.

This is Namjoon.

You stare at him like a deer in headlights, and you must look exactly how you feel because his smile turns to concern, “Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine…” You’re not. You’re absolutely stunned and he doesn’t seem to recognize you. They do say everyone in the world has 4 people that look just like them. How unfortunate that you’ve found his. “You just...look really familiar.”

“Really? Well, I guess that means I have a memorable face then.” He muses, chuckling to himself - Exactly like Namjoon. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You take another selfish moment to look at him, admiring how gentle he is with the small creature in his hands. “You really seem to like the crabs.”

“Yeah, I do!” He nods enthusiastically, “I really only applied here as an excuse to play in the touch tanks.”

“Something easy to wind down from classes?” You ask.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he turns to you as if you suddenly grew 2 extra heads, “How’d you know?”

You giggle, “You’re wearing a university hat with your grad year.”

“Really?!” You nod and he pulls the cap off of his head, letting out a frustrated groan when he confirms he’s wearing his university hat, “No wonder my supervisor straight up ignored me this morning. This is the third time this month I’ve grabbed the wrong one.”

“At least it’s a nice hat.” You assure him, trying to remain positive.

He places the cap back on his head and sighs, “Tell that to him.” He brings the small crab still resting in his palms eye level, “This little guy knows exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t you, buddy?”

“Don’t tell me you speak crab.”

“Of course I do! You just have to know how to listen.” He says matter of factly.

“Alright then. Ask him how he’s doing.”

“I will.” He turns to the crab and stares at it as if they’re having a staring contest, “How are you feeling, little guy?” He moves the crab up to his ear and acts as though it’s whispering to him, nodding and humming disagreement, “I see...I’d be pretty frightened too.”

You narrow your eyes, “What did he say?”

“He said he was having a great day until someone came and held him up too high.” He teases.

“You’re taller than me!” You argue.

He looks you up and down, nodding, “You’re right…” He seems to contemplate for a moment before he shrugs with a sly smile, “He probably just likes me better.”

“Oh, really now?” You challenge. He nods proudly and you scoff, “Well, what’s your name? Resident Crab Whisperer?”

“No! That’s way too long.” He laughs. He extends the hand not cradling a crab towards you and smiles, “My name is Kim Namjoon.”

“Well…” You hesitate, trying your best not to react. You swallow your nerves and shake his hand with a smile of your own, “-It’s nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon. Any relation to the mummy at the museum?”

“That hopeless romantic from the Seoul Museum?” He jokes. He takes this moment to place the crab back into his touch tank, “Yeah, he’s like a great-great-super great uncle or something like that.”

“Well, you look like him.” You say. He gives you a confused look and you’re quick to back-pedal, “His portraits! You look like his portraits.”

“I do?” He asks.

“Besides the purple hair, I’d say you’re the spitting image.”

“I’ll have to check it out myself then.”

“Well, their hours are 8am to 10pm Monday through Saturday and 12pm to 6pm on Sunday.” He gives you a pointed look and you shrug, “I’ve been the night guard the past few years. I just switched to day shift.”

“Really?!” He asks in disbelief, “Isn’t it creepy working the graveyard shift? It must be way too quiet.”

“Not really.” You think back to the nights you spent with your Namjoon and how he made you laugh. You remember asking him the same thing one Saturday night after the museum closed. You two were much closer than his first Sunday there, but you couldn’t help but worry about how he must get through the night alone. But Namjoon was a king. He wasn’t worried about a bit of peace and quiet. “A friend of mine once told me that silence is more reassuring than anything. It means peace.”

“They sound wise.”

“He was...” You can’t help but think about Namjoon’s absence.

This always happens when you think about any good times you may have had, remembering how much fun you had and how you’ll likely never have it again. Being in front of this Namjoon does nothing to help you feel at ease.

“You know that movie-?! It’s-Oh...What was it called…?” The lilac-haired Namjoon suddenly claps his hands together with a proud smile, “Night at the Museum! Anything like that happen after hours?”

You chuckle to yourself, knowing better than anyone how Ben Stiller’s character felt during that movie. Of course, the Namjoon in front of you would never believe you, “I wish. It’d make some of the exhibits a lot more interesting.”

He nods, “I bet they’d be pretty interactive too…Could you imagine history telling itself?!”

“Please, I don’t want to hear about the love-life of a thousand-year-old mummy.” You joke, knowing full well you already have.

“Yeah, I guess that would get annoying after a while...always lamenting about love and what-not…” He seems slightly disappointed, but his smile comes right back, “Why don’t you let me show you around and I’ll tell you about our exhibits instead?”

You’re taken aback by his boldness, “Oh, are you sure?” He nods, “I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! My shift ended like 30 minutes ago and this place is only open for another 3 hours.” He assures you, “So, what do you say?”

Maybe it’s because he’s the spitting image of Namjoon, or maybe it’s the similarities in their personas. Maybe it’s just the way his dimples appear every time he laughs and his laugh sounds just like his. No matter what it is that’s drawing you to this Namjoon, you find that your heart has taken over for your brain and it’s putty in his hands, “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Namjoon breaks into an excited grin, dimples on full display, “That’s the spirit!” He straightens his posture and holds his arm out for you as if he were a butler or an escort, “From here until the aquarium closes, consider me your personal tour guide for the rest of the evening. There won’t be a bench you haven’t sat on by the time we’re done!”

He’s confident.

But perhaps he’s too confident…

He takes you to places you’ve been before, educating you on every animal in great detail. He doesn’t miss a single species, and he takes great care to make sure you see what he’s talking about - guiding your head and pointing in the right direction. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you could listen to him talk for hours. He’s so well-spoken, and he describes everything in such wonderful detail. It comes as no surprise to you when he mentions himself to be a literature major.

He has such a unique personality and the most terrible humor. He tells you about his bike and how much he enjoys riding by the river and through the park. He tells you about his love for moon jelly and how it’s like looking up at the sky when you see them. Everything about him is just so uniquely him, but you can’t help but see all of the similarities he holds to your Namjoon.

His physical features are all the same: his eyes, his nose, his lips, his dimples, his height, and even his haircut! There’s no doubt that this Namjoon would look identical to your Namjoon if his hair were the same dark brown. His interest in the Moon and his love of literature. Your Namjoon would have excelled academically in this world just like this Namjoon. Even his love of small creatures and terribly out-of-date dad jokes is exactly the same!

He’s Namjoon.

But he doesn’t hold the memories of your Namjoon…

Taehyung had told you how Fate had tried to warn him several times. How Fate couldn’t change what would happen, and she could only hope to guide everyone to the best outcome without ruining the future herself. But how cruel could Fate be to have another Namjoon this close to you yet not be yours. To thrust this on you so soon without even a few months to grieve more.

How could someone be so heartless?

---

“And this would be the last bench of our tour.” Namjoon says as you exit the aquarium, extending an arm as he presents it to you.

“Oh wow...” You thank him and take a seat, playing along with his charade - as you have all night - as you pretend to admire the bench. You admire the dedication plaque for just a moment before you turn to him in mock disappointment, “I thought you said we’d see everything on this tour?”

He shrugs, “I may have rambled here and there...” He seems almost sheepish as he realizes how he went on and on over every topic the two of you talked about, “Sorry about that.”

“No worries here.” You assure him. You’d take 5 more tours just to listen to him ramble on and on for hours, “Now I know that fish talk through make sounds by vibrating their muscles against their bladder. Pretty weird, but I wouldn’t know that if you hadn’t told me.”

“Well, I’m glad I could educate you a bit.” He seems nervous, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shifts from one foot to the other, “Maybe we can do this again?”

“Uh…” You hesitate, “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s just a tour. No harm in that.

“Maybe...I could take you to dinner too?” He asks.

There’s some harm in that.

He already seems nervous so you try to find the right words to say, “Oh, I-” But your face seems to give you away way too easily.

“You’re not interested.”

“No-!”

“It’s okay! I get it, I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” You stand up and try to explain, but he seems to already have your rejection in his mind.

“No, please, don’t feel like you have to. I’ve been told I can be a bit pushy.”

“No, that’s really not it! I’d love to go to dinner with you!”

That seems to catch his attention.

“Really?”

You nod, “Yeah! Just not now, or like-...anytime soon.”

The last of Namjoon’s hope turns into skepticism, “Are you sure you’re not just saying that?”

“I know how it sounds, but please-!” You stop yourself before you can blurt out the wrong thing and scare him off entirely, “I lost someone really special to me recently. His loss hasn’t been easy for me, and I don’t want to jump into something too soon. I don’t think that’d be fair to you if I’m still hung up on someone else.”

“Oh wow...I’m really sorry about that.” You thank him and take a moment to breathe, holding yourself back from the tears that want to break free, “I went through a loss not too long ago too! You’re taking the right steps, and I appreciate you thinking about my feelings.”

You smile, “Of course! Everyone deserves that.”

“Well, no dinner then, but maybe another tour next weekend? Same time?” He asks, “Strictly hanging out though. No dinner.”

You nod, “I’d love that.”

“Then it’s a date!” He says excitedly. Though, as soon as the words leave his mouth he’s stepping over himself to correct what he’d said, “Not a date! Absolutely not a date. No, ma’am.”

You can’t help but smile fondly at how endearing he is, “I can’t wait.”

You squeeze the strap of the bag on your shoulder with one hand and wave with the other, turning and departing from the current Namjoon. Maybe in time, you can fall in love with this Namjoon for who he is and not because he reminds you of your Namjoon. At that point, then this lilac-haired, crab-loving, literature enthusiast would be your Namjoon.

You can only hope that day comes sooner rather than later.

*

*

*

“So, that’s it then?”

“I’m sorry?” You turn around confused, only about 50 feet away.

“I can’t believe you’re just going to be nice to this me, but not the one that waited 1,000 years for you!” He explains.

You’re so confused that it takes a second to grasp what this Namjoon is saying, and then it hits you. This Namjoon isn’t just any Namjoon.

He’s your Namjoon.

King Kim Namjoon.

The Hopeless Romantic from the Seoul Museum of Art and History.

“Namjoon…?” You ask. You know it’s him, you’re confident. But it still seems like it’s way too good to be true.

He nods, “It’s me.”

In an instant, you’re running towards him. You fling yourself into his awaiting arms and squeeze him as tight as humanly possible, burying your face into his neck as the tears begin to form in your eyes. You let your hands thread through his soft, purple locks and allow yourself to relax with his arms squeezing around your waist.

You bask in this overwhelming feeling of being whole again. You feel light and complete for the first time in weeks and it fills you with so much joy that you can hardly contain yourself. The embrace feels like that first kiss all over again, and you just never want to let him go.

As you calm down and you come to realize that Namjoon isn’t going anywhere, you pull away just enough so you can see his own tear-stained face. His cheeks are red and his eyes are puffy, but his smile is unmistakable with those gorgeous dimples of his.

Looking at him, it’s now that you realize…

He remembered you this whole time.

You smack his chest - not enough to hurt him, but enough so he knows you mean business - and he flinches, “How dare you play with me like this, Namjoon? Do you know how hard the past few weeks have been for me?!”

“I’m sorry!” He apologizes. He runs his hands up and down your sides affectionately, trying to keep you close - and not angry with him, “Trust me when I say this wasn’t easy for me either.”

As much as you would love to be mad with him for pretending he didn’t know you, you can’t. You’re just happy he’s here more than anything. But that still begs the question, “How are you here?”

“I’m not supposed to say much, but I can tell you the other deities had a few tricks up their sleeves.” He explains. He takes a moment to admire your features and leans down to press a kiss to your temple, “But I think most of the thanks needs to go to Taehyung.”

Your eyes widen in shock, “You know about him?!”

He nods, “It was a shock, but he and the other deities explained everything.” He pulls you closer and uses a hand to cup your face, “They gave me a whole life to share with you.”

You lean into his touch, but you’re still reeling from everything that’s happened in such a short time, “And you just remember everything?”

“They gave me the memories back.” He corrects. He’s so close now and you want nothing more than to start where the two of you had left off before you broke the spell, “I guess Fate had a backup plan for him.”

“Thank Fate for that.” You say before giving in to your temptation and pulling your soulmate in for a much needed, long-awaited, proper kiss

* *

*

“You wanted to see me?”

You look up from your paperwork to see Taehyung standing in your doorway, wearing his favorite emerald 3 piece suit. His fist is raised to the door frame as if he knocked just before he spoke. You must not have heard him.

You wave him in, “Yeah, come in! I’m just finishing up with this finance report.” You expect him to come right in, but he seems hesitant to do so. “Are you okay?”

“Am I not in trouble?” He asks.

Your brow raises in confusion, “Why would you be in trouble?”

“Well, Jimin said-'' Taehyung stops. He remembers the other day after work when he’d come home to Jimin and Jeongguk, going at it in the kitchen for the 4th time in 2 weeks. He’d thought it would be funny to dump water on them - and so had Guk - but the Earth deity had apparently been unamused. Of course, him being the pettiest individual he would settle for a payback that would absolutely scare him. He sits in the chair across from you and throws one leg over the other, “Nevermind. I know what happened.”

You chuckle, “Well, I have a surprise for you. That’s why I asked for you.”

“Oh, really?!” He’s definitely surprised, “What is it?”

“Well-” You move your finance report to the paper organizer on your desk, grab your bag at your feet, and stand up, “-why don’t show you?”

He uncrosses his legs and stands, “We’re going somewhere?”

You nod, “If you’re up for it.” You hold your hand out for him, an action that’s become normal between the two of you.

He takes your hand and you both exit your office together, leaving the human way. You make your way downstairs hand-in-hand, passing patrons that still roam the halls or meander up and down the stairs taking pictures to their heart's content. It all makes you feel human, and feeling human makes you feel happy.

On your way through the lobby, you catch sight of Eunha talking to another security guard. She’d made a request to switch shifts, and you made sure to have Hoseok take over her position under the guise of someone else. She looks happier, but you know better. Thankfully, her shift will be over in a few more hours.

“She’s pretty strong.” Taehyung comments, seeming to already know what you’re thinking. “I talked to her this morning and at lunch. She’s holding it together.”

You manage half a smile, “That’s good.”

Seokjin spots you walking together as you get closer to the exit and his smile widens, “Goodnight, (Y/n)! Goodnight, Taehyung!”

“Have a good night, Seokjin!” You respond, offering a small nod.

“See you tomorrow!” Taehyung waves. Seokjin gives him an indiscreet wink and you pretend you don’t see it even when Taehyung gives him an even more obvious wink back.

You playfully bump him with your hip and he pulls you with him, raising your joined hands above your head and resting them on your opposite shoulder. You squeeze as tight as you can together to fit through the door frame and out to the open air.

“I heard you promoted him.” Taehyung mentions as you make your descent down the large staircase.

You shrug, “There was an opening available.”

“Was there?” He asks, nudging you with his elbow.

You nod, “Yes. There was.” You nudge him back.

“Are you sure~?” The blonde asks again, “I’d hate to see you fall victim to those silly human emotions~”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, you are something else!” You drop his hand and rush two steps ahead of him, but he’s right behind you.

“I’m just looking out for you!” He defends. He rushes down the steps to the bottom before you make it to the last step and he puts his hands out to stop you, “We wouldn’t want to upset the council, would we?”

“I think you’ve done enough angering the council to cover me.” You remind him, poking his nose with your pointer finger, “Besides, maybe I want to get under their skin.”

“All of them? Or someone specific?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

You sigh, “I’m not saying Seowoo deserves it, but that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He agrees. He looks both ways down the sidewalk, “Which way?”

“This way.” You point towards the side of the museum where the street light is out, the darkness wrapping around the corner and making the perfect disappearing point.

You take his hand and together you both walk into the shadows, walking into the darkest section of the sidewalk before disappearing at the corner. You round the trunk of a cherry willow, a sliver of distant light shining through the drooping branches.

Taehyung runs his thumb over your hand and stops, “Are you wearing rings?” He pulls back to check and does a double-take when he sees you in the dim light, “Why’d you change?”

“We’re at a university.” You explain. You’ve changed from your work clothes to a university sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, “I’d rather look like a student than a teacher. You should probably change too.”

“Oh...sure.” In his own fashion, he changes into a white shirt under a baggy, light beige sweater vest, a pair of jeans, and orange converse. He looks himself over once before fashioning a pair of gold-rimmed glasses to finish his look. “Where are we?”

“Eunha’s college.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “Why are we here? She’s still at work.”

“I want you to meet a friend of mine.” You explain.

“You have friends?” He asks, earning an unamused glare from you, “Sorry.”

“This way.” You lead Taehyung off the grass to the actual path and walk under the lights back towards the main building. When you reach a fork in the path you make a left to go around the side of the building between another series of buildings on the other side of the path. You keep walking until you reach another large area with benches, tables, and a fountain.

Sitting on the side of the fountain with just enough light that you can see them, is a trio of 3 men with different hair colors. One with midnight blue, a pastel pink, and lilac. Of course, you recognize them all without a problem at all.

“Hey, guys! Sorry, I’m late, I just had to grab Taehyung.” You call out.

The pastel pink head turns to reveal Hoseok - who’s changed from his normal all-black outfit to a black t-shirt with the word obey in colorful letters, bright orange pants, layered necklaces, and a pair of black, yellow-tinted glasses resting on the top of his head, “No worries, we haven’t gotten started yet.”

“Yeah, Joon was just telling us about the assignment we missed.” Yoongi agrees, revealing himself to be the midnight blue head of hair. He’s wearing an all blue, leaf-patterned outfit with a TuneSquad jersey underneath his top.

“You wouldn’t have missed it if you made it to class on time!” Taehyung freezes as soon as he hears his voice, pulling you to a stop as well. He knows that voice better than anyone, knowing damn well it belongs to someone that’s supposed to be dead.

Hoseok shrugs and leans back, “What can I say? I had priorities to attend to.”

“I just wasn’t interested.” Yoongi stands up and takes a few steps to stretch, revealing Namjoon sitting at the end of the three.

Namjoon is wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a black belt with a white shirt tucked in and a light blue button-up over it. He sighs, “How you have the highest marks in the class I will never know.”

Taehyung looks between the three of them, going back and forth between the two deities and Namjoon before settling on you, “What is going on right now?”

You squeeze his hand, “Just don’t say anything.” You pull him with you to join the others, coming to a stop in front of all of them. You point to the blonde and then to Hoseok, “Taehyung, this is Hoseok-”

The walking gumball throws up a peace sign, “Sup.”

“-Yoongi.”

“Hey.” He gives a small wave

“-And Namjoon.”

Namjoon is the only one to stand and walk up to Taehyung to offer his hand, “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” He asks, shaking the old king’s hand.

“(Y/n) hasn’t been able to shut up about you,” Namjoon explains with a devious smile. You visibly freeze and that only eggs him on more, “She said you were annoying when she first transferred into our class, then she said she thought she was in love with you.”

Taehyung gives you a look and you completely ignore him, “Namjoon!”

“Of course, we all knew she was,” Hoseok adds with a teasing smile of his own.

“Hoseok! Shut up!”

“How interesting.” Taehyung chuckles, happy to know how you feel even as you pretend you don’t exist, “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Why don’t we all move this way? Maybe grab a bite to eat?” You suggest, hoping to move on from your own embarrassment.

“Yes!” Hoseok jumps up and throws his arms in the air before dropping them back down to his sides, “I’m starving!”

Yoongi scoffs, “You’re always starving...”

“I’m growing. I need sustenance.” Hoseok defends, patting his stomach for emphasis.

You walk up beside him and pat the back of his head, “I think all of that food is going right to your head.”

Hoseok looks like a kicked puppy and Namjoon sweeps into his defense, “C’mon, guys, don’t pick on him!”

“Yeah! Don’t pick on me!” He pouts, crossing his arms.

“He can’t help it if he loses brain cells without food,” Namjoon says, turning and grabbing his belongings while you and Yoongi laugh at Hoseok’s expense.

“Do you want me to swear at you?!” The poor god of Death looks absolutely appalled and utterly betrayed by the lilac-haired man. He huffs, “You children have no respect for your elders.”

“Can I quote you on that?” Yoongi asks, walking past Hoseok to grab his own bag.

“Absolutely not!”

Taehyung watches the dysfunctional chaos before him, in awe that the 3 pillars of balance could act like humans. Not just with each other, but with someone he himself once called a friend. You’re all so different than you are at the museum and the council meetings, it’s like you’re not even the same people.

“Tae?” You ask, pulling him out of his confused state. You hold your hand out to him, asking him to join you as the others continue to walk ahead. He accepts.

The 5 of you walk together, further away from the buildings on campus to the fence that lines the end of the property. You all forego the sidewalk for walking across the lawn, getting further away from the lights as you go.

Hoseok comes to a stop in the middle of the grass and Taehyung almost walks into him, “Do you think this is far enough?”

Yoongi looks around and shrugs, “I don’t think anyone will notice.”

“Notice what?” Taehyung asks.

“Way to sound like we brought him here to murder him.” Namjoon jokes.

“Namjoon. Hold my hand.” You say, dropping Taehyung’s for his.

Hoseok and Yoongi hold hands across from you and Namjoon laughs, “Oh, are we having that seance now?” He looks at Taehyung and winks, “Sorry, I guess we forgot to mention this part.”

“Just hold my hand.” You demand. He does and Hoseok takes his other, creating a chain between the 4 of you.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and sighs, “Alright, let’s do it.”

You and Hoseok nod in agreement and Namjoon nods as well, acting as though what you’re all doing is just a practical joke you hadn’t let him in on. It’s only when a soft golden light starts to travel between your hands and to him that he starts to get worried.

“What are you guys doing?” He asks, fearful of what’s going on. He tries to pull away, but you and Hoseok are much stronger than the poor human. The light only continues to grow brighter, and the brighter it glows the more concerned Namjoon becomes, “Guys-?!”

The light washes over him like a wave and it’s like someone has opened his eyes for the very first time again. He takes a deep breath, and then he’s looking around at the others and at himself and at Taehyung and it’s like he’s experiencing life for the first time all over again.

“How did-? But I thought-” He struggles to find the right words to say, unsure where to start, “What’s going on?”

You step in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Namjoon, I’d like to formally introduce myself. I’m (Y/n), and I’m Fate.”

His eyes widen, “Fate…?”

You nod and Hoseok pushes you out of the way to make his own introduction, “I’m Hoseok, but you’d know me better as Death.”

“You’re Death?” Namjoon asks, obviously not able to believe that someone like Hoseok could be something as dark and daunting as Death.

“Death equals mercy,” Hoseok explains. Both you and Yoongi push him from both sides and he chuckles, “Sometimes…”

Namjoon nods, not yet believing it but going along with the information anyways. He turns to Yoongi, “Does that make you Life?”

“Was it my sunny disposition that gave me away?” The blue-haired deity asks, earning a laugh from the king.

You move in front of Namjoon again and gently take his arm, “And this is Taehyung.” You pull him to where the blonde stands, still in shock, “You two have already met before, but you might remember him a bit differently.”

You place a hand over Taehyung’s head and down his front, revealing how he looked the very first time he had met with the king, “Jihye…”

“Hey.” Taehyung smiles sheepishly, waving shyly as his old appearance morphs back into his college boy disguise, “It’s been a while.”

They both just stare at each other, one nervous and the other in disbelief. Taehyung can’t help but think of all the things Namjoon could want to say to him. How disappointed he is. How upset he must be. It comes as no surprise to anyone when Namjoon moves forward and pulls Taehyung into a hug. His arms cross behind his head and he pulls Taehyung as close as humanly possible without hurting him, “I’ve missed you.”

His words are like a breath of fresh air and Taehyung finds himself relaxing into the embrace and holding his friend back just as tight, “I’ve missed you too…”

It’s a special moment, one Taehyung never thought he would get. His first friend is back and it’s thanks to 3 very unlikely people.

“Why didn’t you come to see me after the spell worked?” Namjoon asks, pulling away.

Taehyung looks down, slightly ashamed, “I didn’t want to mess up again.”

“Again?”

“Like the first time. We’d been so close, but even if I had made it work you still would have-” He stops. He doesn’t need to say it. Not when everyone already knows what he’s going to say.

“But I thought once we broke the spell I’d have to wait until my next life?” Namjoon asks, reiterating what both he and Eunha had put together.

“Technically, this is your next life.” Yoongi mentions.

Life’s revelation comes as a shock to both Namjoon and Taehyung, “What?”

“You were supposed to meet in this life, but because you two just had to make it happen sooner-” Yoongi makes sure to glare so hard in Taehyung’s direction that his planet might even shiver, “-the spell tore your soul away from this one and placed it with your previous body once the spell took hold again.”

“With the spell broken, we were able to put your soul back in this body and merge them together.” You explain. The 3 of you have been sitting on this plan for weeks, and you’ve carefully crafted a friendship with this Namjoon since his soul left his previous body just to ensure you’d be able to make this change happen altogether.

“You’ve been able to do this the whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?!” Taehyung asks, completely shocked. You give him this ‘are you kidding me right now' look and he seems to get the hint, “Right. Fate’s strings…multiple outcomes.”

“I can’t believe this…I can’t wait to tell Eunha.” The modern king is still entranced with himself like he’s never looked at his body before. And then his words hit him and he realizes that Eunha isn’t here and has no idea that he’s alive, “I have to go see her right now-!”

He turns to take off in a sprint and Hoseok places himself in front of him with a hand on his chest, “Not so fast, deadman.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi groans, “You cannot just go hunting her down.” He’d spent far too much time conversing with young adults and various incompetent professors just for this plan to work and he was not going to let it all boil down to nothing.

Namjoon however, doesn’t understand exactly what’s at stake, “Why not? I need to tell her I’m alive and that I’m okay!”

“The magic that brought you back is still fragile. If you go to her now then the whole thing could blow up in all of our faces!” Hoseok explains in his own, dramatic fashion.

“So, what? I’m supposed to just wait?!” The king asks in disbelief.

“It will happen as Fate allows.” You remind him, “You’ve waited this long for a miracle, I think you can wait just a bit more.”

Your words are simple and still just as cryptic as always, but they put him at ease and bring him back to his senses. He nods, “Right…”

“Geez, why couldn’t you have been that easy?” Yoongi says, turning to Taehyung.

The blonde scoffs, “I am easy!”

Hoseok laughs, “I don’t think you actually know what that means.”

Taehyung crosses his arms, “I’m doing my best, okay?”

“Well, now that we got all of that settled-” Hoseok claps his hands together loudly and rubs them together, “-let’s go get some grub.”

Yoongi turns to Hoseok in disbelief and hits his arm, “Are you serious, right now? You don’t need to eat to survive!” The blue-haired deity reminds him.

“But Namjoon does! I’m sure Namjoon would love a nice warm meal.” Hoseok turns to the poor human with a look that resembles a kicked puppy and it’s like they’ve gone back to being undercover again.

“I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat I guess?” Namjoon caves, the god of Death breaking into celebration while the god of Life can only sigh in disappointment, “If we go to that one place downtown we can order drinks at the student price.”

The offer of a few beers seems to peak Yoongi’s interest much more than a measly human meal, “Hoseok gets to pay for everything.”

Hoseok shrugs, “I don’t care. It’s not like I can’t create my own money.”

He turns to get back on track for the gate to leave campus and Namjoon trails after him, “Wait you can do that?! How does that even work?”

“Oh, don’t get him started. Just blame magic like every other human and let’s get to the bus before it leaves.” Yoongi calls out, starting at a slower pace behind them. They leave you and Taehyung to take the back of the group, the both of you trudging along at a slow pace behind them.

“So, are you going back to your duties now that everything is done?” Taehyung asks. A part of him hopes that you’ll stick around or maybe even come to visit him on his own planet, but he knows that you have your own duties to attend to.

But you’ve thought about this as well. You knew that once Namjoon’s memories were merged and he’d be left to go and find Eunha on his own, that you’d be free to go back to how you were before this fiasco started. But things are different now. Now, you have Taehyung who’s snuck his way into your heart and made you feel emotions that you’d left reserved for humans. He’s helped you understand how to feel without letting it interfere with your job, and you don’t want to let that go just yet.

You sigh, “You know, I don’t have a planet of my own. I really just drift freely within space when I’m not doing anything.” You kick at the dirt, “Maybe I could stay here on Earth. Do what humans do.”

He’s shocked, “You’re staying on earth?”

You shrug, “Yeah. I heard there’s this museum with this ancient mummy exhibit.” With a mischievous, all-knowing grin you ask, “Wanna go check it out sometime?”

Taehyung can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face. He takes his arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side, “I’d love to.”

You may not be able to look at your own future together, but at least you know that the both of you can do it together.

Maybe Hui was right.

Maybe for Fate, the future is written in the stars.

~ Thank you for reading ~

[thelastspeecher]

Spirit Touched - Chapter 1: Little Prince

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6   AO3

Uhhhh so this is the first time I’ve written and posted something for ATLA, and of course it wound up being because of a fanart of a fanfic that I adore.  Basically, yesterday I saw this art drawn by my pal @agent-jaselin.  And that art appeared to apply one of my all-time favorite tropes (de-aging) to one of my all-time favorite fics (Salvage, by @muffinlance).  And dagnabit, I...got inspired.

So, without further ado, here is my interpretation of a theoretical Zuko being de-aged after Chapter 8 of Salvage.  Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              Praying to the spirits for guidance was a mistake.  Hakoda could see that now.  He pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to dispel the headache already forming.

              This is what I get for thinking the spirits might make things easier. Their actions are rarely convenient for us mortals.

              “Bring him to Kustaa,” Hakoda said after a moment.  Toklo nodded and hurried for the healer’s room, his friend in his arms, buried in a pile of furs.  Bato looked at Hakoda.  He raised an eyebrow silently.

              “That’s new,” he said.  The casual tone made Hakoda’s headache pound in full force.  Bato was treating this as just another matter of fact.  Like seeing the former Prince of the Fire Nation reduced to a toddler overnight was just as common as…

              Hakoda’s head hurt too much to even think of something that was common.

              “Yes,” Hakoda finally said.  “It is new.” He was struggling to align the grumpy teenager of yesterday with the toddler he’d just seen drooling in his sleep.

              “How could this have happened?” Bato asked quietly.

              “I asked the spirits for help last night.”  Hakoda scowled.  It was help he’d desperately needed, after Zuko had broken down in front of him and renounced his crown, maybe even renounced his own nation.  And it was help he was obviously not getting. “Apparently, they didn’t want to make things easier.”

              “The spirits work in mysterious ways,” Bato said.  “It’s best to trust in their judgement.  Eventually, you’ll understand why they’ve done…this.” Hakoda eyed his second-in-command.

              “Since when are you so spiritual?”

              “Since meeting the bridge between the spirit world and ours,” Bato said flatly.

              “Fair enough.”  Hakoda sighed.  “I should go speak with Kustaa.”

              “I might be best if you were there when the little prince woke up,” Bato agreed.  He thumped Hakoda on the back.  “At least you’re good with children!”

----- 

              Unlike every other day since he’d recovered from his illness, Zuko didn’t wake up with the sun.  If he didn’t remember how much his own children slept at this age, Hakoda would have been concerned.  He sat in the infirmary, having a hushed conversation with Kustaa while Zuko continued to snore.  The sight of a toddler swimming in furs was painfully cute and reminded Hakoda of when Sokka was young.

              “I’ll be able to get a better examination done once he’s awake,” Kustaa said in a low voice.  “But from what I can tell, he’s perfectly healthy.”

              “He’s a toddler,” Hakoda said.

              “A healthy one.”  Kustaa glanced at Zuko.  “By my estimation, about four years old.  So, almost out of the toddler years.”  Zuko rolled over in his sleep, mumbling something.  Kustaa and Hakoda held their breaths.  Zuko didn’t wake up.  “From what he’s told me, he didn’t get that scar until a few years ago, so I’m not completely sure why he still has it.”

              “The spirits are testing me,” Hakoda moaned.  Kustaa chuckled.

              “No, Chief.  The spirits are testing all of us with this stunt.”  He sighed and leaned back.  “Now would be a good time to have a waterbending healer, to examine his spirit and chi.  But the odds of finding one of those…”

              “Aren’t good unless we stumble across a Northern Tribe ship,” Hakoda said, finishing the healer’s sentence.  Kustaa nodded.  There was movement from Zuko’s pile of furs.  Hakoda and Kustaa looked over.  A small hand fought its way out, followed by a head.  Zuko’s regular scowl was replaced by confusion as he stared at Hakoda and Kustaa, who most likely seemed larger to him than they had yesterday.

              “You’re up,” Kustaa said calmly.  Zuko shoved away the furs he was buried in.  His eyes widened at the sight of his body.  Hakoda grimaced.

              There was a split second of dumbfounded silence before the screaming started.

----- 

              Kustaa wasn’t sure whether he preferred Zuko like this or not.  On the one hand, it would be difficult to run the ship with a literal toddler on board.  But on the other hand, it was much easier to handle Zuko.  He could literally be picked up and carried somewhere else if needed.

              “This doesn’t fit right!” Zuko whined.  Kustaa glanced over at his young charge.  Zuko had insisted on dressing himself in the smallest shirt they could find on the ship.  That smallest shirt came down to past his feet.

              Then again, so will everything else.  Kustaa beckoned Zuko to come.  Zuko scowled but walked over.  Kustaa fought back an amused grin at the firebender’s toddling gait.  While not as severe as it would be for someone younger, it was still evident.

              “Nothing is going to fit right until either we adjust clothes to fit you or purchase ones already in your size,” Kustaa said.  He adjusted the shirt as best he could by pinning it up and wrapping rope around Zuko’s waist to act as a belt.  “Now that you’re dressed, we need to go see the chief.” Zuko’s eyes went wide in horror.

              “No!  I’m not going outside like this.”

              “Everyone knows what’s happened to you,” Kustaa said, getting to his feet. He took Zuko’s hand.  It was small and warm.  “Most of them saw you already, and the rest were informed by either the chief or Bato.”

              “…Fine,” Zuko grumbled.  Kustaa led him out onto the deck.  The moment eyes landed on him, Zuko dropped Kustaa’s hand to hide behind his legs.

              “Wow, you’re barely older than the babes we left at the South Pole,” Panuk remarked.  Zuko didn’t move or speak.

              “I think he’s adorable,” Toklo said firmly, marching over.  He crouched down to Zuko’s eye-height.  “I always wanted a baby brother.”

              “I’m not a baby,” Zuko snapped.  At his high-pitched, youthful voice, Toklo beamed.  “I’m sixteen.”

              “Four,” Kustaa corrected.  Zuko scowled.

              “Either way, that’s not a baby.”

              “Aw, no need to pout,” Toklo cooed.  Zuko’s scowl deepened.  “It’ll be fun having a little kid on board.”

              “Will it?” rumbled Aake.  “We only let men join the crew for a reason.”  Zuko let out a small squeak as Toklo lifted him up and held him out for Aake to see.

              “Try saying ‘no’ to this face,” Toklo said.  Aake’s deadpan expression didn’t change.

              “No.”

              “Were you saying ‘no’ to Zuko or ‘no’ to saying ‘no’ to him?” Toklo asked. Aake shrugged and continued to sharpen his spear.  Zuko squirmed in Toklo’s hold.

              “Let me go!” he snarled.  He broke loose, falling to the deck with a soft thump.  Kustaa waited for the tears that would come from a toddler being dropped. But Zuko didn’t cry.  His eyes were glistening in a way that suggested he was holding back tears, but he remained otherwise stoic.  Kustaa filed this observation away for now.  He walked over to Zuko and pulled him up.

              “The chief needs to talk to you, remember?” he said.  Zuko nodded silently, allowing Kustaa to lead him to Hakoda’s cabin.

----- 

              The moment they set foot inside the cabin, Kustaa could tell Hakoda was going to struggle with not seeing Sokka every time he looked at Zuko.  At least Bato was there to help mediate things.

              “Take a seat,” Hakoda said.  Zuko toddled over to the chair he normally sat in.  After a moment, he climbed onto the seat with obvious difficulty.  Bato stifled a laugh.  “Zuko, we’re not sure why the spirits have done this to you.”

              “Probably because they hate me,” Zuko muttered, crossing his arms.

              “Well, no matter why you’ve been turned into a toddler, the fact of the matter is that it has happened to you.  Generally, we don’t allow children your age to be on our ships.”  Zuko paled and opened his mouth to make his case. Hakoda held up a hand.  “Given your…extenuating circumstances, we won’t be dropping you off at the next port or something like that.  Who knows, maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow sixteen again. Until we have a better understanding of your condition, including how long it might last, you’ll be staying on the Akhlut.  Do you understand?”

              “Yes,” Zuko said with a nod, visibly relieved.

              “Good.  Now, just because you’ll still be on board, don’t expect things to stay the same for you. You won’t be required to do any chores on the ship.  If you want to help, you can, but the crew has been instructed to stop you from overexerting yourself or doing something that might hurt you at your current age.” Zuko’s eyes boggled.  “Additionally, you’ll be sleeping in the infirmary with Kustaa for the foreseeable future.  It will be more comfortable for you.”

              “Understood,” Zuko mumbled.

              “Another change is that you will be expected to do what a child your age must in order to remain healthy,” Hakoda said.  Zuko tilted his head curiously.  “In particular, you will have to take naps.”

              “What?!” Zuko shrieked.

              “We can’t have a cranky, overtired firebender on our wooden ship,” Bato said.  Zuko crossed his arms, scowling.

              “Those are the major changes.  We will adjust things as we see fit,” Hakoda said.

              “Okay.”  Zuko fidgeted in his seat, an abrupt reminder to the men in the room of how hyperactive toddlers were.  “Um, about my clothes…”

              “Go see Panuk and Toklo.  They offered to try to cobble together something for you until we can make port,” Hakoda said.  Zuko ducked his head.

              “Thank you.”  He slipped off his chair and left the cabin, his head held high in an attempt to maintain any dignity.  Once the door closed, Kustaa looked at Hakoda and Bato.

              “He’s not going to act like a toddler if he can avoid it,” Kustaa said. “He’s almost certainly going to resist the reduced workload and naps.”  Hakoda nodded.

              “I agree,” he said solemnly.

              “This won’t end well,” Bato said, shaking his head.  “There’s a reason we wouldn’t normally have someone his age on board.”  There was a loud ruckus from the deck; clattering, heavy footsteps, and Toklo’s voice.

              “Come on, Zuko, it’ll look so cute!”

              “That,” Bato said, “is the reason.”

-----

              Hakoda begrudgingly agreed with Toklo’s assessment.  Zuko was cuter than he had any right looking, walking around the ship with a blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape.  According to Toklo, Zuko had begun shivering while he and Panuk were working on finding something for the new toddler to wear. Toddlers tended to get cold easier, and Hakoda supposed that being a firebender might make Zuko more vulnerable to cold as is.

              “Are you hungry yet, little prince?” Panuk asked.  Zuko looked up from his fumbling attempts at making a net.

              “Don’t call me that,” he snarled.  Panuk patted Zuko’s bald head.

              “All right.  You hungry yet, Zuko?” he asked.  Zuko’s stomach rumbled loudly.  “I’ll take that as a yes.”  Panuk got up. “Come on.  Let’s fill you up with sea prunes.”  Zuko got to his feet and eagerly followed Panuk.  Hakoda watched Zuko toddle across the deck and to the kitchen.

              “You’re getting soft, Chief, I can tell,” Aake, standing nearby, said quietly. Hakoda looked at him.  Aake sighed.  “But I’m getting soft, too.  We left when Sitka was about that age.”  A weary and wistful expression settled on Aake’s face.  “I miss my son.”

              “I miss mine as well,” Hakoda said quietly.  Suddenly, Zuko burst onto the deck, his arms full of sea prunes, running from Panuk.

              “Hey!  You don’t get all of them!” Panuk protested, coming onto the deck as well.  Zuko merely sped up.  Hakoda and Aake’s eyes widened as they realized the former Fire Nation Prince was giggling as Panuk chased him.  Zuko’s lighthearted, childish peals of laughter filled the air. He rushed belowdeck, his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.  Panuk followed.  A silence fell.  After a moment, Tuluk, who was swabbing the deck, spoke.

              “Well, that was adorable.”

----- 

              Hakoda expected Zuko to hide belowdeck, embarrassed by behaving like a toddler.  But Zuko returned to the deck after a while, seemingly unaware of how childish he had acted. He walked up to various crewmen in an attempt to do some of his old chores.  Each time, he was turned away.  His regular scowl settled on his face, chubby with baby fat.

              “Can’t do anything,” Zuko muttered as he stalked around the deck, his blanket trailing behind him.  He finally sat down next to the mast, pouting.

              “It’s good that you can’t do anything,” Hakoda said, walking over. Zuko looked up.  “Leaving a task in the middle of doing it doesn’t usually produce good results.”

              “Why would I not complete a task?” Zuko asked.  He crossed his arms.  “I’m not really a child, I can focus.”

              “You’d need to take a break for your nap,” Hakoda informed him.  Zuko’s eyes widened.  “I saw you yawning just now.  You’re tired.”

              “No, I’m not!” Zuko said, jumping to his feet.  He shed his blanket cape.  “I won’t nap.”

              “You agreed to take naps.”

              “Only if I needed them.  I don’t. I’m not tired.”  Zuko’s argument sounded eerily like those Sokka made as a child.

              “There’s nothing for you to do anyways,” Hakoda pointed out.  He reached for Zuko’s hand.  Zuko darted away before he could be grabbed.  Unfortunately for his millionth escape attempt, Aake was nearby. Aake picked Zuko up as he ran past.

              “Let me go!” Zuko said, twisting in Aake’s grip.  “Let me go!”  A breath of flame escaped from his mouth.  He suddenly stilled.  Aake handed him over to Hakoda.  Zuko didn’t make a peep as Hakoda carried him across the deck and into the infirmary. Kustaa looked up from the book he was reading.

              “Is it time for my nephew’s nap?” he asked.  Hakoda nodded and set Zuko down.

              “Sleep,” he said firmly to Zuko.  “That’s an order.”  Zuko nodded, visibly cowed.

              “Yes, chief,” he mumbled.  Hakoda turned to leave.  “Sir, I apologize for firebending earlier,” Zuko said suddenly.  Hakoda looked over his shoulder at the toddler.

              “You firebending on accident wouldn’t have anything to do with agreeing to nap, would it?” he asked.

              “Uncle says that sleep works in concert with meditation to control your inner fire.  Children who are too young to know how to meditate only avoid burning down their house by taking…naps.”  Zuko scowled slightly.  “That’s the excuse he gives for being so lazy.”  Kustaa chuckled softly.

              “Judging by what happened on deck, your uncle might be right,” Hakoda said, feigning a casual tone.  Zuko nodded. “Sleep well, Zuko.”

              Hakoda poked his head into the infirmary after he had checked on the rest of the crewmen.  Some of the crew felt Zuko’s current size was an improvement.  Hakoda could see where they were coming from.  Zuko was yet again buried in a pile of furs, his minute arms wrapped around Scuttles.

              “He went down almost right after you left, chief,” Kustaa said quietly.  “I didn’t even need to make him any tea.”

              “Hopefully he won’t argue against naps in the future.”  Hakoda continued to watch Zuko sleep.  The toddler let out a soft snore.  “It’s foolish to expect that he’ll ask for a nap, though.”  Kustaa nodded.

              “I would agree with that.”  Zuko rolled over in his sleep with another snore.

              “Let me know if anything happens,” Hakoda said.

              “Of course,” Kustaa said.  He picked up another book, opened it, and began to read.  Hakoda left the infirmary, closing the door behind him as softly as he could.

[lesbiansouplol]

New Beginnings, A Sanders Sides Fan-Fiction

Summary for story: Patton starts working as an art teacher at a new school, where he meets Logan, and quickly catches feelings. After meeting some of his students, however, he gets quite concerned about Virgil’s home life, and works with Logan and Janus to get him away from his abusive parents, all while trying to figure out his newly budding romance with Logan, and trying to be a good teacher with the unfortunate little to no funding being put into the arts.

Summary of chapter: Patton shows up for his first day of work at a public school in Florida, and makes his first friend.

Word count: 1,338

Chapters out: 4/?

Link to second chapter: https://lesbiansouplol.tumblr.com/post/664529780405846016/new-beginnings-a-sanders-sides-fanfiction

Warnings/tags: Literally just fluff, awkward fluff, joking fluff, all the fluff. Logicality.

CHAPTER ONE: The Outline

 Now, some would assume new beginnings don’t usually happen in the middle of the year, but personally, I believe new beginnings happen when the time is right, regardless of the calendars we decided for some reason to live by.

Today is a new beginning for me. It’s my first day at a new school. Just not in the way you might be thinking. I’ve been an art teacher for a few years, but was removed from my position at Thompson’s Private School of Florida, and have now been hired at the local public school.

Right away, I knew it would be trickier because of the lack of funds in the arts at the majority of public schools. But I wouldn’t be Patton Hart if I didn’t face off any challenge with a skip in my step and a smile on my face!

I walked into the building, holding a huge bag full of art supplies, just because I wasn’t sure what I was working with. I was also about an hour early hoping I could walk around and just map the place out. And also maybe accounting for the fact that this place is much bigger than the private school, and I’d probably get lost once or twice.

I looked around at this almost uncomfortably silent building, (I always prefer it when they talk!) and I did the most logical thing I could think of: I walked down a random hallway and looked into every classroom, taking a mental note of what classes were held there.

I frowned at a biology classroom, knowing very well that this is where more than a few trans-phobic excuses stem from... but that’s a talk for another day.

That’s when a heavy CLANK from a room a few classes down the hall, followed by a loud sigh, and some footsteps. I could feel a touch of panic rising in my chest before a man stepped out of a classroom saying “Emile, I believe I already told you not to show up this early. The rest of the teachers won’t be here anytime soon, let alone your classmate-“ He stopped when we made eye contact. And my lord, he was handsome. He was fairly tall, with jet black hair and dark blue, almost purple looking eyes behind a pair of rectangular glasses. His look of annoyance quickly shifted to a blank, unreadable face as he stood up straighter and tightened his striped blue tie. “My apologies, Sir. I thought you were one of my students.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I replied. “It’s my first day working here and I just wanted to get a look around so I don’t get lost.”

The man nodded. “I see.”

He was someone that I could easily see someone be intimidated by, and maybe that’s why I was so nervous. But regardless, nervous habits never die, so here come the jokes. “I’m glad! If you didn’t then you’d probably want a refund on those glasses.”

The man looked thoughtful for a second. “I guess that is fair.” He decided. He moved towards me, and extended his hand. “My name is Logan Berry. I’m the chemistry teacher here.”

I took his hand and gave it a friendly shake as I rattled off another joke, barely even registering what I was saying. “Chemistry? How are you and me looking?” Holy shit, did I just say that?

The man- I mean, Logan looked a tad bit confused, so I took the opportunity to actually introduce myself. “Patton Hart, and the new art teacher.”

“Visual or performing?” He asked. “Our theatre department has been sorely lacking for a few years now.”

I gave a disappointed “oh no!” Before answering his question. “Visual. Mostly drawing and painting. I also like pottery, but I don’t think I’m near good enough to teach that yet.”

“That is fair, most art forms take years to truly master. And a student wouldn’t advance if the teacher didn’t completely understand the material they were teaching.” He said as he moved his glasses a touch closer to his face. My mind drifted a bit trying to figure out why he would move them at all. Probably because it made him look ten times smarter, but, like, who’s paying that much attention anyway?

Logan cleared his throat. “Uh, Not to question your abilities, of course. I mean, I’m sure you’re great with pottery. My statement wasn’t directed at you as much as it was just... thinking out loud, so to speak.”

I may have jumped, a little bit. “Nope! I mean, yeah! No, I see what you’re saying. No offense taken, promise.”

“Very nice.” He responded. Honestly not sure how to answer that one..

He looked up at the ceiling for a second, thinking about who knows what before he found my eyes again. “Can I… would you like me to show you around? Maybe? I have a while before I have anything important to do.”

“Of course! I’d love you to!” I smiled.

 And off we were. It was comfortable silence for a while, Logan dropping the occasional fun factoid as we walked through the halls. We dropped by the teacher’s lounge, principles office, and various classrooms. Logan assuring me that we have free rein to walk anywhere since we arrived early. Eventually however, we did find my new classroom.

It had four fold-out, paint-covered tables, a few easels, some canvases, and a closet of mystery I’d have to go through later.

“Well I should get back to my own classroom. It was definitely nice to meet you, Mr. Hart.”

I turned back to face him. “Of course! You too. I’m glad I made a friend so quickly.”

He stopped for a second, as if stunned. “‘Friend’?”

I’ll be honest I was a bit concerned. “Yeah! Are you coolio with that?” I waited a few seconds but he didn’t respond so I added “that’s- that’s what the kids say. Instead of just saying ‘cool’, you know?”

Logan nodded. “Ah, I’ll have to add that to my list.” He said, grabbing a small blank card and writing something on it. “Well, as I was saying, I should probably head back to my own classroom. I’m sure Principle Sanders will be here in a few minutes, so you can check with him in his office if you wish.”

“Got it, thanks for everything!” I said, but before he could walk away I had to make sure of something. “Wait! You didn’t answer my question earlier.”

He looked confused. “I didn’t? Oh, my apologies, I thought the insinuation was enough. I did not in fact know the slang term you used.”

I shook my head. “Nonono, not that one.” I held my hand out to him. “Friends?”

He only hesitated a second before taking my hand in his, giving it a firm shake, and replying. “Friends.”

I practically, well, maybe literally jumped up and down. A friend? So soon? And he didn’t seem nearly as stuffy as the private school teachers. And to be completely honest, none of them were nearly as cute. He was the epitome of tall, dark and mysterious. And I had a feeling there was a secret softy in there.

Like he was talking to a student before he realized it was me, maybe a student he’s particularly proud of? Identifies with? Oh! Or maybe even a kid of his own?

I may not know your secrets now, Logan Berry, but I promise you I’ll figure them out. I’ll put the puzzle together somehow.

He waved his goodbye and I was left in the art classroom by myself. But if there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that you’re never alone as long as there is something to create. I grabbed a foldable chair from the corner, and grabbed my sketchbook and some pencils out of my bag. Next thing I know I’m drawing an outline. For what? We’ll have to wait and see. But for what it is, I’m pretty happy with this new beginning.

[cat-arsenal]

(Main Blog Version)

I posted 2,489 times in 2021

103 posts created (4%)

2386 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 23.2 posts.

I added 2,046 tags in 2021

#art - 477 posts

#redacted asmr - 258 posts

#important - 227 posts

#cool stuff - 196 posts

#video - 189 posts

#legendary - 174 posts

#thank you - 153 posts

#cute things - 126 posts

#animals - 124 posts

#signal boost - 122 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#i'll definitely be drawing about this tomorrow but right now i have to sleep so i'll leave you with what's rattling around in my brain

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

See the full post

39 notes • Posted 2021-08-14 23:31:20 GMT

#4

How did I forget what a clingy, pouty, sweet, goofy, snarky thing David is?  How did I forget that he asked Angel how they feel about dogs on their first not-date?  How did I forget what a tender heart he has?  How did I forget his dopey sense of humor?  I need to lie down.

44 notes • Posted 2021-11-27 21:52:32 GMT

#3

D.A.M.N. Season 1 Lightning Round Character Facts

See the full post

48 notes • Posted 2021-07-03 16:54:10 GMT

#2

Vin and the Freelancer make plans A.K.A. I’m bad at titles and full of feels

It's been a week, or two, or more since they arrived, and they've managed to meet only a few times between classes and lectures and training and indoctrination.  Vindemiator has been recovering and listening, feeding enough to no longer be starving, and the Freelancer has been doing what they've always done: keeping their head down, learning whatever they can, making a mental list of potential allies vs enemies, and a mental map of escape routes and chances to take them.  Said chances are rarer than the times they can steal away to see Vindemiator.

They find each other in the wee hours at the end of a rarely-used hallway and sink wordlessly down the wall, shoulders touching.  They let out a deep sigh, and Vindemiator rests his head atop theirs.  Sometimes they talk, sharing information and questions of concern.  Sometimes they just sit in silence, two souls allowing their walls to drop only for a moment, only for each other.

Vindemiator is just beginning to doze off when the Freelancer turns, pressing their head more firmly into his chest.

"We could run," they say, quiet but clear.  He opens his eyes slowly.

"What?"

"You and me."  They sit up, eyes locked with his.  "We could do it.  I've been thinking about it, and I know how we can get out and stay out.  Be free."

He shakes his head, frowning.

"There's no 'freedom' for people like us, Cutie, you know that."

"What I know," they reply evenly, "is that we're stronger together.  What I know is that being on the run is better than being trapped here with that creepy director and his attack dogs and all these brain-washed zombies."

"I was on the run for a year," he reminds them softly.

"I was on the run for ten," they counter, without venom.  "And I was fine up until that night.  And I'll be better with you.  And you'll be safe with me," they murmur, reaching for him but not touching, "and maybe happy?  I don't know."

He takes their hand and holds it to his chest.

"I am happy with you."

They smile a little, surprised but pleased, and he thinks, not for the first time, about kissing them.  Then they turn serious, tone pleading.

"Will you be free with me?"

He struggles, as he has since arriving.  True, the Academy is far from the haven it advertised itself as, but it's also true that they are safe, mostly, and fed, and have access to education, even if that education consists primarily of propaganda.  But they aren't free to leave, or see each other, or really be themselves under the strict scrutiny of the Imperium, staff, students, and other Academy residents.

He sighs.  God damn it.

He pulls them close by their clasped hands and rests their foreheads together.  He trusts them.

“Just tell me what to do.”

57 notes • Posted 2021-10-18 23:51:46 GMT

#1

See the full post

74 notes • Posted 2021-07-07 05:34:54 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →