#talys's crazy fics

[talysfics]

It was Kevin's idea to start a goodwill exchange program between the Foxes and the Trojans. He didn't realize that meant sharing his personal space with one of the Trojans—never mind sharing space with Jeremy and the resulting pressure.

Until pressure turns to a very different feeling.

It wasn't just Kevin's cheeks that felt hot: he dropped the pajamas in his hands when he noticed his blood was rushing south as well. It was nonsensical. It was a revelation. It was shameful. Here he was, standing in the middle of his moonlit room, naked safe for boxer briefs, which were tight enough that denying the obvious strain the fabric was under was impossible. It was slowly occurring to Kevin Day that he may be bisexual.

[All For The Game - Keremy (Kevin/Jeremy) - Rated E - 3,482 words - cw for somnophilia and therefore dubcon]

[dismas-n-dismay]

And if I don’t get 20 long hair jayvik hair pulling fics for BOTH Jayce and Viktor on my desk by next week I’m taking away everyone’s writing privileges. FEED ME.

Update: I went crazy in the tags with how this would go for them 😭😭

[avelera]

Well thank fuck for finally stumbling on a rational post (Jayce is Not the Bad Guy) in the trenches/Jayce Talis tag. I was beginning to think I’m hallucinating that Singed frame in the tent, or his convo with Viktor, or Viktor himself literally saying “our failures in the commune”. I have literally not seen a single person mention these, even in the Jayce defense corner.

Obviously all your other observations are also spot on.

Thank you for returning my faith in humanity.  

(also, hardly any relation probably, but your username sounded familiar and then I remembered it was your Julie/Joe fanfics that took me through some heeling a few years ago, so I guess thank you for that too <3)

Hey, it's my pleasure! I admit, I didn't catch the Singed thing immediately either, I've been very Terminally Online jumping between Twitter, Reddit, and Tumblr to get my fix for Arcane while we wait for Act 3 but the fact that I wasn't seeing anyone point out here that Singed was still in the tent, or any of the other points, was making me crazy so I figured the sort of League of Legends core fan analysis maybe hadn't trickled over here yet and it was worth fixing.

(Also if I see one more Jayce/Judas, Viktor/Jesus parallel I'm going to scream. It was funny the first 200 times guys, but I'm just exhausted now even if I do think some of the parallels were intentional. But that's also me being terminally online so I don't blame people who are just discovering those memes for sharing them.)

And yes! I did write Joe Miller/Julie Mao fic for Expanse! I'm really proud of those fics even though the fandom for that ship was never really big, so I'm always ecstatic to hear that they were meaningful for someone, thank you!

[mtreebeardiles]

Things I'd like to know about my fellow writers

Tagged by @illusivesoul -- many thanks!

Tagging uh... um. All of you. Any writer who sees this and wants to participate

Last book I read: oh god I read a lot of books at the same time uhhh hmm I did recently finish Claudia Gray's The Fallen Star (book three in the High Republic books) and am emotionally compromised about it

Greatest literary inspiration: Ooh, gotta be Tamora Pierce. Amazing world building, great characters, a wonderfully down-to-earth writing style you don't often see in the high fantasy genre. Good stuff all around.

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write: luckily for me someone IS writing WWII crossover fics ( <3 @theoriginalladya ). Otherwise it's less an issue of not wanting to write something and more an issue of not feeling like I can pull it off as well or else not having the energy to do so

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: Guardian Angel x Songbird in a borderlands/cyberpunk crossover/au. The entire concept of the second part of my ME:A long fic because I go even more off-script -- talking Kett characters from beyond the heleus cluster, AI fuckery, poking at the jaardan, and yeah. Stuff. Probably why I'm struggling so hard to finish the first part, eh?

You can recognize my writing by: excessive love of commas and semicolons; third person with a stream of consciousness touch. a rousing game of "is this a run-on sentence or does the comma negate that" (it DOES, i swear).

My most controversial take (current fandom): Hoo boy okay uhhh

For Mass Effect: ... I don't ship shakarian and I don't ship Talibrations. If I were to write anything with Garrus it'd probably be an OC or someone with less established interactions in canon, because i feel Garrus's canonical depictions are all over the fucking place. And I just really like Tali with Traynor /shrug

ME:A is a good game. Cry about it. (as in im crying about it because chances are high they won't let us go back)

Top three favourite tropes: idk if this is a trope per se or if it is idk what it's called but I'm such a sucker for people being super dorky in their relationships. Absolute nerds. Hmm I also like "saved" by the narrative -- characters who have to face the consequences of making it out alive and figuring out what that means. Found family is another goodie.

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): 0.5 -- i wrote like! Some sentences recently! Ayyy!

Share a random frustration: I think I need a different dedicated writing space. My current office is just too "this is the place you work" and it just adds to the already pervasive sense of burnout.

[synobun]

One of them tag games

So I wasn't actually tagged by @cour5t in this, but I was tagged by @rosewinterborn in a very similar game, so I'm stealing the first and pretending it's the second, since the second had a few questions that didn't apply to me x)

Last song: I'm gonna do the last song I've had on repeat for this!

Favorite color: I never know what to say for this. Black? Dark red? Dark purple? Dark green? That whole colour palette is the bomb dot com.

Last movie/show: The last movie I watched that was new was Nimona! It was fantastic, 10/10 lives up to the hype. The last show I finished was Reacher. It was okay.

Next on my watchlist: I've finally started watching Criminal Minds, but I'm already kind of burning out on it midway through season two. And there's still like 300 episodes left. Ridic. I should probably catch up on Foundation and For All Mankind. Next movie is the cartoon version of Mulan!

Last game: Prey! I did a replay of Doom 3 a while ago and mused that the horror story-game genre should be revived, and then on a whim I decided to play Prey without knowing anything about it. And it's the exact kind of game I was talking about. It's pretty good.

Last book: Rebirth of the Sigil by Peri Akman. It was disappointing. :/ Especially since I know what the author is otherwise capable of. I had the same thing happen with John Gwynne recently as well.

Sweet/savory/spicy: Savory, I think? I don't have an instinctive sense of what savory is. Google says it's a meaty taste, and I rely heavily on protein, so I guess that. I have a pretty low tolerance for sweetness despite liking sodas and such. I don't like most desserts or can only eat a tiny amount. Spicy is alright but my digestive system disagrees.

Relationship status: *vague gesturing*

Last thing I searched online: The hours for my pharmacy to see if it was too late to pick up my medication.

Current obsession: I am generally not an obsessive person when it comes to, like, interests and activities. But I am an obsessive person when it comes to thoughts and emotions. Lately I've been struggling a lot with thinking about eternity. It has not been fun. On a lighter note, I have also been thinking more regularly about writing. Perhaps someday that will translate into action!

Greatest flaw: How much time do you have? This is actually something I have difficulty answering, because the line between something forced upon me and something that is actually inherent to me is blurred a lot of the time.

I think I'd say how I behave when I'm spiraling mentally. I close off and disappear from almost everyone in my life. Occasionally I can keep up appearances with one group but not the rest, but by and large I become a ghost. When I am in a conversation during those cycles, it's crazy how badly I'm affected. I don't become cruel or mean toward others, but my speech becomes jilted, I can't make eye contact, and I am just devastatingly hateful against myself.

It's partly why I isolate, so that I don't have to expose others to that behaviour. It happens on a yearly basis though, and it can last for weeks at a time, so it has a pretty negative impact on my relationships. I also have no idea how to navigate being in one of those moods while part of a relationship where daily contact is an expectation. When I was part of a romantic relationship, instead of having one big prolonged dip, I would fade in and out of it. A couple weeks good, a couple days bad. Rinse and repeat. Awful. Terrible. Annoying. There's almost no predicting when it'll happen either.

Fic I’m currently reading: I rarely read fics because I have no patience for wading through wish fulfillment, horny writing, and "He would not fucking say that" fics, so there's only one that I vaguely keep up with. My friend has a Mass Effect fic, which can be found here. It focuses on femShep(/Kaidan) and Tali(/Garrus) and is post-ME3.

-----

I tag anyone who sees this and actually made it to the end, tbh. But for sake of poking, I tag @rosewinterborn with this variant, and also @deadlyessencewhispers, @tananaphone, @stupid-elf, @carrotblr, @atinydroid, @imtryingx, and, uh, uh... I don't know... let's see... @kkshowtunes, @d3viantvanguard, and @awritingcaitlin. I probably just tagged everyone who follows me. Anyway thanks bye

[jaxxwrites4you]

Current Fics I'm Actively Working On

So, since I'm doing updates, here's the fics I am focusing my efforts on right now!

First on the list is a long time project (I've been working on this longer than the other three fics on this list), my mass effect fanfic. It will be titled Twin Hearts and it follows my twin Shepards, Ambros and Rhodanthe. It will follow the story of the original mass effect trilogy, the planned pairings are going to be Ambros and Tali, Rhodanthe and Garrus, Joker and EDI (always, because I love them). It feels good to be working on this one again and I hope I can keep good momentum.

I am also going to renew efforts for a Lego Monkie Kid fic I've been wanting to work on, which is my fake dating with OCxMacaque. It's not anything too crazy, just very self indulgent and fun, with a little bit of drama sprinkled in. It's based off of a song I heard once and I really love the base idea, I just didn't end up being happy with the original draft I did.

The last two fics I'm going to focus on are both undertale fics. One is my Sans x Reader fic, Brave is the Heart That Loves, and the other is a Swapfell fic I've been stewing on for awhile.

I desperately want to finish out Brave is the Heart That Loves, it's one that I'm pretty proud of, even if I haven't gotten super far into the story yet. And I've really fallen in love with Swapfell (specifically the way @popatochisssp portrayed it), so I had an idea for a single parent reader swapfell fic. I still haven't decided if it will be just Sans x Reader or whatnot yet, but I'm really excited to get back to work on it.

[swaps55]

@atomictourists asked: 24

Give me a number 1-101, and I will either tell you what fic the corresponding Spotify Wrapped song inspired, or write you a ficlet/snippet inspired by that song.

I have an AU fic rooted in the idea of multiverses that happened mostly by accident. It started as a character study about Sam: if I change a fundamental formative influence in his life, such as having an absent mother, what changes about him, and what stays the same? Next thing I knew, I had a runaway idea about Kaidan getting yanked from the universe he knows – in which Lazarus never happened and the reapers are winning – into a universe where Sam isn’t with the Alliance, Saren never crossed paths with Sovereign, and the reapers are still dormant. I still don’t really know what I’m doing with this idea, and only poke at it on occasion, but I have several random scenes strung together with duct tape and ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. 

The flames of this idea were fanned by a playlist that I titled ‘Pining So Hard You Become a Tree, and #24 on my Wrapped is from that playlist:

I’ll Get You Home, By The Coast

One of the things I am enjoying about this weird little fic that may never go anywhere is that it’s another way to play with Sam’s belief that home is not a place: it’s people. While he tries over and over to find a way to send Kaidan back to his own universe, what he’s really doing is giving Kaidan his home back by not succeeding. Sam has always been his home. In Kaidan’s universe, he lost Sam. In Sam’s universe, he never met Kaidan. This story is basically about the universe righting a wrong. So here’s a hot-off-the-press snippet based on a song that's about helping someone find their way home.  

I'll get you home When you are tired Stand next to you When you're in the fire And I will get you home

~

“Shepard,” Tali says. “You should take a break.”

“Not now,” he says absently, waving a new schematic into the viewing screen. He scowls at it, tapping his fingers against the edge of a control panel. “EDI. Pull up experiment 427. I want another look at that one. I might be onto something.”

EDI’s holographic sphere flashes in its terminal. “As I recall, the last time you worked with experiment 427 your instructions were to ‘never let me touch that worthless POS again.’”

“Well maybe I was wrong,” Shepard snaps, slamming the heel of his fist against the console. “Something brought him here. Something has to send him back home. The data is here. I just have to figure out how to put it together.”

Keelah, Tali thinks. Garrus was right. He really is driving himself crazy.

“EDI, when is the last time Shepard ate?” Tali asks, raising her voice enough that Shepard is forced to listen.

“Twelve hours ago,” EDI replies helpfully.

Tali gestures in exasperation. “See? You need to go home. Eat something. You won’t solve this problem by bullying it into giving you the solution. You’re redefining physics. Just accept it’s going to take time.”

The glare that he’d been reserving for the console now gets directed at her. “Alenko’s universe doesn’t have time.”

“But he does,” she says gently. “Like it or not he’s here, and he’s not going anywhere.”

“I promised him I would get him home.”

“Did you ever stop to think maybe that’s not the best thing?”

The glare turns guarded, but at least she has his attention now. So she uses it.

“He’s been fighting a war for years,” she tells him, “He’s exhausted. Physically, mentally. People have limits. Even soldiers. You’re trying to throw him back aboard a keening ship, when I bet what he could really use is a hug and a friend.”

He gives her a long, hard look. “Believe me, I’m not the right company. As far as he’s concerned, I’m a ghost.”

Tali walks over to him and rests a hand on his arm. “He lost everyone, Shepard. Where he came from, ghosts are all he has. But here…”

“Here all the people he knows never met him,” Shepard says.

“I imagine that’s very lonely.”

He exhales in defeat and rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Yeah,” he admits. “It probably is.”

She squeezes his arm. “You should go home.”  

[dresswhitesandgoldwings]

Got bored. Read tags if you please.

[kingbuckley]

Happy bfsn!! Friday was my birthday, so me n babey went to Hershey park!!!! It was a blast but I somehow missed my right shoulder when I was sunscreening and I got burned all over my right side :/ anyways we went to the water park all day which was fun and then rode rollercoasters in the dark!!! What a great time I love amusement parks

Anyways sound off in rbs/replies if you’re very scared for tonight’s ep !!!! We’ve only had a couple clips so I have no idea what’s going to happen and I’m scared of it please validate me

Ok here are my mutuals: @clarkgriffon @anne-shirley-blythe @lameblake @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky @charmanderdiyoza @charmainediyoza @biblarke @braveprincess @yourereallyhere @hopewolves @talistheintrovert @choose-wonkru @nvermindiseeyou @grumpybell @detectivebellamyblake @clarkeywifey (if you wanna be added/removed let me know)

[why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgee]

So how is everyone doing this beautiful day? One more day without any new Ziva or Cote contents.

Personally I am just enaugh starved for contents that I'm starting to recite Tiva lines in place of lines from completely different characters, from completely different shows...

[talysfics]

Sora tries to help Riku cope with the studio's new project.

[Kingdom Hearts - Soriku - Rated Explicit - 3,406 words]

[zukos-tsungi-horn]

starting to wonder if i have a secret ace radar because almost all of my favorite fics are written by other aces

[pheita]

Flash Fic Friday: Meeting of the Minds

Yeah, finally I did write more than just hundred words. Thanks @flashfictionfridayofficial So this is some continuation from the last time You can find part 1 here and part 2 here.

The pen already had serious bite marks as much as Tali bit down on it while staring at the still empty application form in front of her. She still had two days before she had to make a decision, and so far she hadn't been able to bring herself to do so. A little research had revealed that the position was usually no more than a half-time job, so that the archivists could still pursue their research in peace and whatever other obligations they had, but it still didn't pay badly. For the pay alone, it wasn't a bad idea, and it would end up counting as apprenticeship, which with a little trickery she could even pass off as such in the human world, and she had more time to learn how to tap into the energy lines then with the only once a week meeting. Basically, she could only win with that. Still, it kind of repulsed her, simply because of how she would get to it. Tali didn't like that kind of favoritism. On the other hand, it would give her a few hours away from her mother, which she wasn't too mad about. The knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts. She glanced to the side and found Nura standing at the threshold with a bag and a smirk. "I have something for you, kitten." Her mother's partner shook the bag and the sound of something heavy rang out. "Chocolate fruit?" "And seaweed crackers. That merchant from France has been in town since yesterday." Hungry, Tali jumped up and greedily snatched the bag. "You're the best."

"Someone has to make sure you don't go crazy," Nura laughed, "Even though I don't understand what you like about these crackers." The first crackers already in her mouth, Tali just looked at her with wide eyes and grinned. Nura's gaze passed her and became questioning. Puzzled, Tali followed the look and realized she had yanked the application form off the desk when she had jumped up. "The archive is looking for assistants again?" "I overheard by chance." "You mean when you were hiding there," Nura sighed. She brushed a strand of hair out of Tali's face. "You know how we would have stopped your mother if anyone had overheard." "I know." Mouth full of the next crackers, Tali picked up the form and put it back on the table. "You know, you should try it." "Really?" Nura's thoughtful face irritated Tali for some reason. "Yes, really. You're curious, not stupid, it's quiet there, and most importantly, your mother will never in her life set foot in there unless she absolutely has to. I really don't know what's gotten into her lately, but she drives even us crazy so much that we want to tie her up and gag her regularly. And not in the fun way." "Eww." The wide grin said Nura had done that on purpose to lighten the situation. Tali took a deep breath and looked cautiously down the hall before waving Nura closer. "You're in the archive more often, right?" "It comes with the territory of my postion at Earth Clan headquarters. If Maribell gets any lazier, I could become clan leader soon, though." "Have you ever met Constantine?" Tense, Tali reached for a chocolate covered  dried fruit and chewed slowly. She could tell from Nura's face that she was thinking, then she smiled slightly. "The wind elemental, I remember. He researches inheritance of abilities and how that shows up in mystical beings who have a very mixed ancestry or are only one-fourth mystical." "I didn't know that." This time, Nura looked into the hallway and then slid a bit further to the desk before leaning forward, conspirative. "He told you there was a position open, didn't he?" Tali nodded. "And he's going to show you how to tap into the energy lines, so you can finally use your abilities." "You noticed that?" "It's only obvious when you're standing very close to you and know what to look for," Nura giggled, "So don't worry, your mom won't notice. She's always been a little insensitive to it." "You mean she's as sensitive as a concrete wall." "She has other qualities for that." "Like her cooking," Tali grinned broadly. "Among other things. What I was getting at, kitten, is I thought you and Constantine will get along just fine. You have the same slightly odd way of thinking unnecessarily around five corners sometimes. If anyone can follow his train of thought, it's you. Besides, the archives here pay really well." Tali pursed her lips thoughtfully, moving the corners of her mouth from side to side. "But it's kind of cheating the way I found out." "Believe me, it's still fair. Other people got their posts in completely different ways." The way Nura said it reminded Tali of Constantine's comment that many posts were filled with someone's partners, and she just chose to ignore it. "All right. I'll fill out the form." "We'd better not say anything until you get the job, though." "Yeah, it will be enough if mom almost chokes me out of sentiment once." "That's what I thought. I'll go keep the wild bunch down there in check then, so you'll have some quiet time to fill it out." "Thanks." "Not for that, Tali." "But for encouraging me," Tali replied, taking a deep breath. "You just needed a little nudge." With a smile, Nura disappeared. The screaming of the youngest seconds later was indication enough that the rest of the chocolate fruit was about to meet its end.

[caspercryptid]

Fake dating AU ~

🕊️ Twitter — 📖 Ao3 — ☕ Ko-Fi — 📖 Fic Index

8/15 fake dating aus, now, I think?? We're doing musician jayce and actor silco again, and thank you for playing!

CWs: vague references to biphobia.

___

You’ve reached the voicemail box of— well, hopefully you know who you’ve called. If I’m not around call my agent or call Cait or call... back. Later. Just realized there’s no point in being coy since anyone crazy enough to get my phone number knows my voice? So yeah this is Jayce. Actually i’ll probably rerecord this la—

*Beep*

“Hey, Talis. This is Sevika, calling on behalf of Silco. Noticed you’re having a little snafu with the press. As it happens, Silco’s also having a...personal hiccup, and we think you two can help each other. Don’t mention this call to anyone. Call me back.”

“—Okay, so let me get this straight,” Jayce says. He’s standing with his hands on the back of the chair in front of Silco’s desk, because there is no way he’s just sitting down in front of Silco’s desk like they’re having a business meeting. Not about this. He’s not doing this. “You want to— date.”

“For the press.” Silco clarifies, calmly, lounging back in his chair.

“But you need me to move in with you.”

“You have achieved second grade English competence.”

“I have audio processing problems,” Jayce snaps. “It’s the ADHD. Humor me. You want me to date you, move in with you, and in exchange you’re generously offering me the chance to forever put to bed the accusations of faking being bi for attention, and end the attempts to pry a lot further into my dating history. Which, I’ll admit, is tempting. Now. What’s your angle?”

Silco eyes him, but he doesn’t repeat the mockery, blessedly.

“I’m adopting a child.” he says, and that throws Jayce for a loop.

“—What?”

Silco hisses out a breath. “I’ve gotten custody of— a little girl. I’m not concerned about the legal side, but I am... aware. Of my reputation. Playing a villain in movies does not... endear me. To the general population. I would like to soften the press’s reaction, because it seems as though a lot of negative press very quickly could have consequences I wouldn’t care for, and may make it difficult for...her. Later. To make friends.”

“—and you think I—”

“You have one of the softer reputations in music. You produce a lot of vapid pop. You’re well liked. And you would like to clear up the mess around your reputation, and from my glance into your history, you’re intelligent.”

Silco pauses, like he’s considering his next sentence carefully, and Jayce waits him out.

“She’s interested in science,” he says, finally. “Specifically physics. And she’s a fan of yours already. You could be a tolerable co-parent, or at least a passable tutor. You’re the only logical choice.”

Jayce hears co-parent and has to take a breath, but before he can even think about what he’s saying, it’s coming out of his mouth.

“Okay,” He says, “When can I meet her?”

SIlco waves an NDA at him, and he thinks, distantly, as he signs it, that he really should have thought this through.

But, well. It’s a kid. How can he say no to that?

Hopefully this doesn’t go terribly.

[spookyvalentine]

If you're taking the Shep asks, how about 8, 15, 28, and 49 for Mercy and Stellan?

Omg!! Yes!! to me stellan is my soft clean ragdoll cat and mercy is the feral raccoon snarling from inside the dumpster

8. What is their reaction to the Alchera mission? And after?

Man I wrote these questions without expecting I’d have to be writing answers. These are hard!!

stellan I think has it a little easier than mercy. karin chakwas was one of their aunts living away from the family commune, working for the alliance when mindoir was attacked. she took them in and together they grieve the loss of their vibrant (enormous) family. once stellan enlisted, the two of em didn’t serve aboard the same ship til the normandy. stellan was definitely boggled, wounded and a bit offended by the alliance sending them the mission, and ooooh karin was pissed at the audacity. they go down to alchera together, but explore and process the site separately. and stellan is with someone who was there, experienced the same floor cracking beneath their feet, lost the same people—they share and process grief together, again. and with joker :,)

as for mercy… well. mercy reads the message and goes what. what?? wow, fuck you! doesn’t tell anyone about the mission or where they’re going. purposely has edi guide the ship while joker is down with chakwas for pt and checkups (and the rare occasion when both are asleep during the same shift) and takes a shuttle down by themself. orders edi to lock the garage. no one’s following. stays out there until they’ve managed to claw every last dog tag out of the ice. 28 hours. mercy forces themself to lay down next to the twisted rails of what used to be the command deck and stare up at the sky and the stars past it, clutching at the dog tags and counting the seconds stretching between heartbeats (and has a total breakdown)

(and of course by this point joker n chakwas are super awake, and very aware they are orbiting goddamn fucking alchera locked inside the normandy, which is pointedly missing its commander. garrus and tali are also Not Happy. outrageously miserable start to the day. mercy what the fuck. why are you doing this by yourself. answer the phone. the rest of the gang is like what is going on. and like yeah mercy gave edi permission to share minimum biostats but that’s hardly any better, shepard)

also if you want to read extraordinary fic, the frozen sea by @zet-sway. Devastating, gorgeous, i think about it all the time, and 1701% inspired this question

15. What colors does Shepard prefer for their armor?

stellan obviously has an affinity for blues. alliance navy looks amazing on them. they settle on something that looks like moonstone for regular use, and a deep navy for stealth missions

in me1 mercy wears literally whatever color as long as the armor is good. me2 they wear this crazy stealth armor that’s not like kasumi’s cloaking but color shifts and slides to echo the environment. me3 is the GOLD ARMOR ERA that was cooked up between liara and hackett as some good promo. mercy’s like wtf is this shiny ass clown suit i will be blasted to pieces immediately. impractical. tacky.

and liara n hackett are like it’s for morale

28. What about hyperfixations? What’s the topic that will get Shepard rolling no matter the person or place

stellan can recall entire kepesh-yakshi games of legend, move by move, in the same gushing, wondering tone of a sports commentator, even hollering at times when recounting something especially remarkable. and their pet turtle along with the whole excruciatingly in depth journey of the aquascaping/aquaculture that went into building his enclosure

mercy loves music. can never get enough kind of love. to mercy, music is magic. the soul made tangible. they’ll excitedly discuss all sorts of up and coming artists across the galaxy with an awareness in trends that at first glance seems out of character. very passionate about music theory and instruments, fucking adores live performances. mercy is the type to spontaneously sweep someone into a dance

49. What is Shepard’s happy ending? What’s the dream that keeps em going

broooo why did i ask this question. hoisted by my own petard, the one petard i never thought would hoist me 🤡🙈

well by me3, stellan is thoroughly in love with shiala, who they’ve been in regular contact since that chance reunion on ilium in 2. they dream of joining her on zhu’s hope, of reconnecting and nurturing the earth beneath their feet. of watching shiala tend to her flowers while they make jam and bake bread before being swept up into an impromptu dance across the kitchen. of being warm and safe curled up in shiala’s big beefy biceps

mercy,,, im really not sure. all i can think of is that line (i am absolutely butchering) frodo knew he would not survive the journey

fifty questions for commander shepard

[duchesschameleon]

now they must learn from one another

shabbat dinner, part 2 read this fic on ao3

It’s a crazy week of debriefs and hospital visits, medical and psych evaluations, paperwork and even more paperwork. But at 6:30pm on Friday, there’s a knock on the door and Tom goes to answer it, shooting Pete and Bradley stern looks to stay seated and relax like the doctor told them to. Hondo nods at Tom, silently promising to make sure they don’t overexert themselves.

Just like the Shabbat they’d hosted before the mission, Callie, Fritz, Yale, Harvard, and Omaha are the first to arrive. Tom ushers them inside, smiling at them and squeezing Callie’s shoulder as she shoots him a grin. She’s carrying something in her hand, Tom notes, excited to see what she’s decided to share with all of them.

He sees the next group arriving and watches them get out of the car and walk to the door. Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, and Payback are all walking better than when they’d first disembarked from the carrier, the stiffness and soreness from the mission no longer evident in their steps. Tom nods, welcoming them into the house. 

He can see that they’re tired, but they’re also excited. Probably to see Bradley, as he’d been staying at the house since returning from the carrier out of an abundance of caution. Base housing is too hectic for someone dealing with a concussion, so the house has been a great reprieve as he’s recovered.  

Even if it is a little stilted and awkward, the three of them living under the same roof for the first time in years. With all the work they’d had to do this week, there hasn’t been time to talk about the past, about the years that separated them. 

But, they’ve waited this long to talk, they’ll wait a little longer as everyone once again joins them for Shabbat. 

Phoenix looks at Tom questioningly as she passes through the doorway and Tom tells her, “Bradley and Pete are in the living room, just go straight through and don’t let them stand up or do too much.” As he sees Jake and Coyote approaching the house, he steps back outside to welcome them. 

“Hey, Ice,” Coyote says, nodding as he enters the house. Tom nods back and turns to Jake, who’s standing on the porch, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“How - how is he?” 

“Which one?” 

“Rooster.” 

Tom nods and puts a hand on Jake’s shoulder, leading him into the house. “You should ask him yourself. I think it’s your turn to listen to him complain about how the doctors are being way too cautious. He insists his head is fine, that he barely feels like he ejected low and crash landed on the carrier deck.” 

Jake looks at him, shocked, “But isn’t he on, like, pain pills?” 

Tom nods. “Exactly. I’m tagging you in. I’ve been dealing with Bradley insisting he’s good enough for base housing and the barracks this past week.” 

Jake blanches as Tom closes the door behind them. There’s noise and conversation flowing from the living room, a huge difference from the first Shabbat they’d hosted for this group. Everyone’s more relaxed, more familiar with one another — Tom notes it as he sees Callie and Bob talking, looking at what appears to be her talis bag together, while Omaha and Fritz looking at something on Payback’s phone. 

“Last to the party like always, huh, Hangman?” Bradley calls out, Phoenix laughing from her spot on the arm of the couch where she’s carefully leaning on Bradley. 

“Well, you know I gotta make an entrance, Rooster.” Jake winks as he saunters over, sitting gently beside Bradley. 

“Your ego isn’t big enough to announce your presence?” 

Jake flashes a smile at Bradley. “Ego’s not the only big thing about me,” he says with another wink.

Tom shakes his head at them, walking towards Pete on the loveseat. “You have an audience, boys, and they won’t hesitate to butt into the conversation and make you regret it.” 

Pete snorts beside him. “Speak for yourself, I’m trying to block this one out.” 

“I never said I was talking about us,” Tom retorts, gesturing to the other pilots all looking like cats that caught the canary.

Pete chuckles under his breath and leans against Tom. 

They let the younger pilots talk and catch up, everyone gathering around the couch where Bradley sits. Tom puts his arm around Pete, takes his weight and relishes in it. Relishes in the fact that Pete is here and alive. 

“You good?” Pete asks Tom, turning to look at him. 

“I’m good, just enjoying a full house.” Pete nods and rests his head back on Tom’s shoulder. 

They sit like that for another few minutes, soaking in the warmth of a full house and the noise it brings. It’s not often they get to sit like this, to slow down and just be together with friends and family. Tom reminisces to Friday nights of years long past, times when Carole and Bradley were fixtures at Shabbat and whoever else was in town - Slider, Hollywood, Wolfman, Merlin, Warlock - anyone that they considered friends had an open invite to Friday Night Shabbat. After Carole passed and their usual group got spread across the globe on different assignments or retired, it became just Tom, Pete, and Bradley for Friday night dinner. And when Bradley left and refused to come back after he found out about his academy papers, it was just Pete and Tom for the longest time. 

Or just Tom when Pete got himself shipped off to some corner of the world for pissing off another admiral.

“Where’d you go there?” Pete asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Just thinking how we haven’t had a Friday night like this in a while. Might be nice to have this more often.” 

“Might be nice,” Pete echoes. “We need to talk to-” 

“Hey, Mav, where’s the candles? We gotta light ‘em in a minute,” Jake interrupts, looking at his watch.

“Oh I’ll-”

“They’re in the cupboard on the right side of the sideboard,” Tom answers, shooting Pete a look. “The challah’s on the kitchen island, already on a cutting board with a knife if someone wants to bring that to the sideboard. And the wine’s there, too.” The younger aviators jump up and start grabbing everything. Tom catches Phoenix shoot Bradley a look that has him sinking back into the cushions. 

“Wait for Hangman or someone to help you out,” she instructs, holding his gaze. Bradley nods and puts his hands up, surrendering. 

Tom smiles and turns to Pete. “C’mon, let’s get you up.” Pete sighs but allows Tom to support and help him into a standing position. He’s still for a second, taking a breath and making sure he has his balance. Tom stands with him, Hondo hovering nearby. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” Pete says and Tom keeps his arm wrapped around Pete’s waist as they walk over to the sideboard, Hondo settling in amongst the pilots. “You got the kippahs?” 

“Already on the sideboard. This isn’t my first time hosting a large group you know?” 

Pete huffs out a laugh and then focuses on making sure his steps are steady and sure. It takes them a little longer than usual to cross the room, but everyone’s patient, giving them space.  

Jake circles back to the living room area for Bradley, helping him off the couch and hovering as they cross the room. Bradley’s doing better, but still stiff and Jake’s got his arms out just in case Bradley wobbles. 

Tom walks them right to the front of the group, in front of the sideboard, and just like last time, Callie and Bob are near the front, too. They’ve already handed out the kippahs and Callie has her own delicate, hand crocheted one on her head. They’ve left the two that Tom and Pete always wear on the sideboard, waiting for them to start. Jake and Bradley settle in next to them and smile at Tom as they pull out their own kippahs. 

Tom turns to the group, “Everyone ready? Need me to explain anything again?” 

They all shake their heads. 

“We’re good, Uncle Tom,” Bradley says, leaning in closer to Jake. 

“You wanna help me light, then? I’m sure you still remember.” 

Bradley smiles and shuffles forward, standing next to Tom and leaning on him as they light the lights together and recite the prayers, as they used to do. Pete watches on, arm around Tom’s waist. His family, together again. It’s a small step, but a pretty important one to Tom, Pete knows. Sharing in his family’s traditions with Bradley and the other kids, marking them as part of their hodge-podge family.

“Jake, Bob, Callie, want to help with the blessings over the challah and wine?” Tom asks, turning towards them. It’s another sign of honor, of being welcomed into the family and the three pause for a second in shock before nodding and stepping forward. 

Jake pours the wine into the waiting glasses with help from Callie as Bob picks up the knife to cut the challah. Once the wine glasses have been passed to everyone who is currently cleared to drink, Bob and Tom lead the blessing of the bread and let Callie and Jake bless the wine. 

Everyone has a little bite of challah and a sip of wine, saying “Good Shabbos” as they give each other a hug or handshake. When Tom settles back at Pete’s side, he pouts, looking at the wine glass. 

“One sip, Pete, that’s it. I’m not risking anything with all the meds you're on.” Pete rolls his eyes but only takes a sip before giving Tom back the glass. Bradley watches the whole exchange, something tugging in his chest for how familiar the scene still is to him after so many years away from home. 

It also reminds him that he didn’t get any wine and he turns to Jake, who’s been collecting the kippahs to put back on the side table now that the prayers are done. “What about me? Can’t I have a sip of wine?” 

Jake raises an eyebrow at him. “With your head injury and list of pain meds? No.”

“One sip won’t hurt me, c’mon, it’s Shabbat.” 

Jake narrows his eyes at Bradley, looks over his shoulder to Tom and Pete who shrug, Pete’s hand still on Tom’s glass. 

“One sip, Bradshaw, I’m not going to be responsible for you fucking up your recovery because it’s Shabbat.” 

Bradley smiles as he grabs the offered wine glass and takes a healthy sip. “One sip, right?” Jake scowls at him and takes back the wine, muttering under his breath as he takes a sip himself. 

“How did you two put up with him growing up?” Jake asks Tom and Pete. “How have you put up with him this week?” 

Pete and Tom just look at each other and shrug. “Practice,” they say in unison. 

Bradley’s lip quirks up in a smile as he looks at the two of them, remembers all the practice they had with his attitude and arguing growing up. 

“Hey, Ice? Mav? We gonna eat soon?” Fritz calls from the kitchen. “This all looks really, really good but Halo’s making me be respectful and not just dig in before you guys even make it to the kitchen.” 

“We’re coming, Fritz,” Pete responds, tugging on Tom as he starts making his way to the kitchen. 

They’ve got the buffet set up again, everyone piling their plates with food and sitting at the table. The seats are shuffled from last time — Bradley sits next to Tom, across from Pete, his old spot at the table, and Jake takes the seat next to him while Phoenix settles in next to Pete. The others are mixed around, more of a cohesive unit and team rather than the splintered friend groups they’d been at the last dinner. 

The conversation flows more easily, and louder, as everyone talks over each other. Fritz and Omaha hold a conversation over the heads of Harvard and Yale, to the point where they ask if Omaha wants to switch places with Harvard. 

It’s chaotic, it’s loud, it’s familiar. Tom settles into his food, watches both Bradley and Pete to make sure they eat. Though Jake’s glances over to Bradley’s plate and the way he nudges Bradley’s elbows tells Tom he can focus more on his partner. 

Like Bradley, Pete is eating, just slower than usual. And occasionally he’ll just push the food around his plate, keep his hand and fork busy as he talks to Phoenix and Callie next to her about something or other. Bradley’s less talkative, only butting in to poke fun at someone. His gaze keeps flicking across the table at Pete, at where Tom’s hand rests on the table near Pete’s.

Tom lets out a sigh at the tension that’s still lingering, even after everything they’ve been through. It’s a stark reminder that they may have made it home alive, but that didn’t solve everything. 

But that’s something for after dinner. Not while the whole team is loudly discussing some video game across the table. 

The noise is welcome, another reminder of the past and hopefully a sign that Shabbat dinners will be a full house affair again when deployments and assignments permit. The attendees may look different, but the warmth of a full house remains the same.

The team lingers after dinner this time, relaxing in the living room again and congregating around Bradley’s spot on the couch. Little by little, they leave, noticing Pete’s flagging energy or following Hondo’s lead of getting rest with the promise of no paperwork or debriefings the next morning. 

Jake’s the last to leave, following Coyote at his insistence of “wanting to get some decent sleep for once.” 

“He’ll, he’ll be alright here? If you need help, or just want him off your hands we’d be-” 

“Jake, he’s good here. It’s calmer here than on base,” Tom explains. “But you can come visit, check up on him. Keep him company. I’m sure Bradley’ll appreciate that.” 

Jake nods, opens his mouth like he wants to say something else but closes it before anything comes out. He nods again and follows Coyote to his truck, shoulders tight around his ears. Tom notes it, makes a silent promise to the younger man to talk about it the next time he’s over, to ensure that whatever Jake’s worrying about is nothing and that he knows he doesn’t have to handle it alone. 

But that’s for another day, Tom thinks as he closes the door and locks it. He walks back to the living room, the house much quieter now as the candles burn low this late in the evening. Pete and Bradley are quiet as they sit on their respective couches, the silence an awkward one and much different from their comfortable silences of the past. 

Tom sits next to Pete, looks between the two men he calls family, and sighs. Pete just looks over at him with a quirk of his eyebrow and Tom shakes his head subtly. 

“The team’s gone, dinner’s over, the mission’s over. You both came back alive - despite your best efforts - so now you have to talk.” Tom pauses, waits to see if one of them will step up. “Like you promised.” He looks over at Pete. 

Pete looks back at Tom, confusion in his eyes. Tom holds his gaze, holds Pete to the promise he knows from the reports and from Bradley himself he’d made on the carrier deck before taking off. 

But it’s Bradley who speaks first. 

“I, I don’t know how to say I’m sorry for being angry,” he whispers, looking down at his hands. They’re fidgeting in his lap, unable to stay still. “I was angry, I didn’t understand why you’d done it, why you pulled my papers. Even the answer you gave me in the ready room, it’s not, it doesn’t feel right.” He takes a breath, looks at them, fear and nerves etched in every feature of his face. “Why did you pull my papers after a lifetime of supporting my dream to fly? You can tell me the truth. Don’t be scared that you’re gonna piss me off, I’m not going to leave again. Nearly got myself killed making sure you were okay, I don’t wanna lose you again.”

Tom and Pete look at each other. This has been their longest argument, Pete firmly believing that Bradley shouldn’t know about Carole’s request, shouldn’t have a reason to resent his mother, while Tom thinks Bradley is more understanding than that. They’ve hashed it out numerous times over the years, anytime Bradley came up in conversation. And neither had given up any ground, standing strong in their convictions. 

“I want you back in my life. I know I held on to the anger for too long, but I have to know why you did it,” Bradley says with a shrug. “I just need to know.”

Pete’s still for a moment. Tom knows he’s weighing the options, the risks of telling Bradley the truth so soon after getting him back. And then he stands slowly, with a groan, and goes to sit next to Bradley, puts a hand on Bradley’s, stilling them and prompting the other man to look at him. 

“Bradley, I pulled your papers as a favor to your mom.” Bradley’s brow furrows in confusion, looking to Tom to confirm Pete’s words. Tom nods slowly, watches Bradley’s eyes widen as he looks back at Pete. “The last thing Carole wanted was for you to die like your dad did. She wanted your feet on the ground, to keep you safe.” Pete swallows around a lump in his throat, pushes on. “But, I was nervous, too. I didn’t want you to suffer the same fate as Goose, couldn’t bear the thought of losing you either. I thought I was keeping you safe, thought you weren’t ready, and I wasn’t ready to test that. So I pulled your papers. For your mom, for me, to try and keep you safe. To protect you.” 

The three of them sit in a stunned silence. Tom knows he needs to let Bradley and Pete work this out — the decision and action was ultimately Pete’s and Bradley held the most anger towards him — but he wants nothing more than to join them on the couch, to wrap them both up in his arms and promise them they’ll get through this and it will be okay. 

“Mom wanted you to pull my papers?” 

“Yeah, she asked me to keep you from flying, from becoming an aviator, in those last days at the hospital. Made me promise her.” 

Bradley sinks back into the couch, running a hand through his hair and wincing as he accidentally tugs on his scalp. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me?” he asks.

“I knew I could handle you hating me, I could take that. But I couldn’t bear the thought of you hating your mom, of you resenting her. I couldn’t risk that. So I let you believe it was just me.” 

“But I could never hate Mom! If that’s why she wanted my papers pulled, I get it. I don’t think it’s fair, but I get it. Dad’s death… it was hard on all of us, but especially her.” Bradley shrugs. “I don’t love that she made you do it and never talked to me about it, especially after years of us going up in the air together, but I get it.” He lets out a heavy breath. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t suck, though. Feeling like my world was flipped on its head.” 

Pete hangs his head, shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Bradley,” he says, voice thick with tears. “I never wanted you to feel alone, to be alone. I’m sorry I acted out of fear instead of trusting you.” 

Tom can’t take it anymore, can’t watch while his family tears themselves apart over things that happened years ago. He stands and plants himself in front of Pete and Bradley, a hand on each of their shoulders. 

“Look at me.” They both lift their heads, meet his eyes. “We all messed up with this one and we’re all carrying some of the blame. But we’re still a family.” 

Bradley nods, Pete blinks back tears. 

“You mean that? We’re still, still family?” Bradley asks, voice small. 

Pete sits up and immediately has a hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “Always. Bradley, you have always been part of this family. Nothing will change that.” 

Bradley wraps an arm around Pete and tugs Tom down to their level in order to wrap them both in a hug. It’s an awkward position for him, but Tom leans into it, squeezing the man he calls son as he feels his tears soaking into his shirt. He rubs Bradley’s back, the same way he did when the man was much younger, just a boy with nightmares too real for his age, and holds the two people he loves most close. 

“Nothing will change that, Bradley. You’re family, you’re our son. But, I think right now we all need some rest,” Tom says, leaning back to look at the two of them. “You two especially, c’mon, time to go upstairs.” 

Pete and Bradley look at each other and smile. Bradley quirks his head and then they both nod. Tom’s transported back 18 years, seeing a much younger Bradley and Pete communicating in their own language, their own way, as he struggled to keep up and was ultimately following their lead. But it’s not 18 years ago anymore, it’s the present and Bradley and Pete are both here in the house they’d moved into as a family. Together again.