#he gets more clay added onto him later on

[lord-prey]

With some clay you can bring your little friend to life! :)

#he gets more clay added onto him later on #but he did spend a good chunk of his early life as a weird crawling lizard/fish creature #Sav #art #my art #drawing #draw #monster #creature #doodles #doodle #digital #digital doodles #monster oc #sketches #sketch #monster friend

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Someone’s Something

Plot: Joel, Y/n and Ellie meet Henry and Sam, who try to convince them to team up to find their way out of Kansas City together.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: tlou ep.5 spoilers, languge, implied smut, guns, mention of death, sa and loss of a child (16+)

A/N: Happy Valentines, y’all!! My gift to you is some light heartbreak with some fluff to soften the blow 😉

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless your age is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Y’all have blown this lil’ ficlet idea up so much, I’m still shocked it’s this loved. I’m so excited to finish out the second half of the season with you guys. Hang onto your butts 🤍

——————

July 1st, 2002. Austin, Texas.

Y/n had integrated perfectly into the Miller’s life. Sarah adored her, Tommy loved her, and Joel couldn’t get enough of her. He’d never admit it to Sarah, but he was thankful that she’d taken matters into her own hands and snuck down to the hardware store that June day.

In the beginning of July, Sarah went away to a two-week summer camp. Joel and Y/n had seen her off on the bus, Joel fussing over whether or not she had everything she’d need. He didn’t do well when she was gone for more than a day, a combination of missing her dearly and parental worry. Y/n had made it her goal over the course of her trip to distract him as much as she could.

They’d made a dinner date at Joel’s house the day Sarah left, the first of fourteen that Y/n had to keep him busy. His days would be consumed by work, but his nights belonged to them. Y/n knocked on the front door of the house, carrying a six pack she’d picked up on the way.

Joel hurried to the door, swinging it open and enveloping Y/n in a hug. She laughed, clinging to his neck as he literally dragged her into the house. Joel’s lips were on her the second the door shut.

“Missed you,” he mumbled between kisses.

“You saw me, like, six hours ago,” Y/n managed to say.

“Way too long,” Joel smiled against her lips.

Y/n chuckled, “Yeah, well, if I die from lack of oxygen,” she wiggled a hand between their smushed chests, “You’re gonna miss me a whole lot more.”

Joel wrapped an arm around her neck, smiling so big his cheeks hurt. That was the effect Y/n had on him. She’d turned his curmudgeon qualities, plying them like clay until they were soft. He was a new man with her in his life.

“Joel,” she said softly.

“Yeah?” He was barely taking in her words, focused on how her lips were starting to swell from his attention.

“What’s burning?”

It didn’t register at first, then he remembered the food was still in the oven. “Shit,” he muttered, letting her go to run back to the kitchen and save their dinner.

Y/n chuckled, kicking off her shoes and heading in to help him.

Joel’s attempt at a simple roast chicken and potatoes turned out slightly crispy, but good, all in all. They’d eaten it at the table, Joel’s hands stretched across the surface to hold Y/n’s.

After their meal, they retired to the living room. Joel turned on the stereo and fell onto the couch, Y/n laying her legs across his lap.

“Well, day one’s almost over,” she said, “How’re you feeling?”

Joel sighed, “She called earlier when they got there. Sounded real excited.”

“And you could not sound happier about it,” Y/n chortled, “Joel, she’s going to be fine.”

“I know that, it’s just,” Joel strroked his hand over Y/n’s calf, “It’s been me and her for…ever. When she’s off it just…”

Y/n watched her boyfriend with soft eyes, waiting for him to say more.

“I know she’s growin’ up, she’s always been independent, but,” he paused staring down at his hands, “It gets easier and easier for her every year to get on that bus. Makes me think about the day she’ll leave for good.”

“You know that no matter where she goes,” Y/n offered, “She’s always coming back here. She loves you too much.”

Joel gently smiled, his fingers brushing against Y/n’s leg. She always knew the right thing to say.

“And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she kinda loves me too,” Y/n smirked.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to work with there,” Joel winked.

Y/n giggled, her eyes drifting over Joel’s shoulder to the corner of the living room. An acoustic guitar sat propped up in a stand.

“Y’know, I still haven’t heard you play,” she said, nodding to the instrument.

For as much as he loved music, he still got a little bashful about his talent. “I sound like everyone else,” he replied.

“Yeah, nice try,” Y/n wasn’t so easily discouraged, “Play me something.”

Much like his daughter, there wasn’t a lot Joel could deny Y/n. If it was going to make her smile, he’d gladly do it. He lifted her legs off of him and went to retrieve the guitar.

“Does the audience have any requests?” Joel asked, settling back down beside her and fiddling with the tuning pegs.

Y/n tucked her legs into her chest, barely containing her grin, “Something sweet.”

Joel finished tuning the guitar and took his position. He hadn’t played for anyone other than Sarah in a very long time.

The first pluck of the strings relaxed them both, Joel settled into the piece quickly. Y/n watched his fingers dance up and down the string, a series of movements only he knew. It sounded like an old folk song, the kind that told the tale of doomed lovers torn apart by tragedy. She had enough musical knowledge to know it was in a minor key. Sweet, it was not, but it was brimming with passion, and the way Joel watched the strings so intensely only added to it. Y/n was taken aback by the simple beauty of him, pouring himself into the music.

When it was over, a few final notes slowing the tempo before stopping entirely, Joel looked over to Y/n, a whisper of a smile playing upon his lips. Their eyes connected, the ever present flame between them stretching the distance between their bodies. In that moment, Joel was thankful they were alone.

In the same set of seconds, Joel blindly set the guitar down to the side and Y/n surged forward, the two of them meeting in a heated kiss. Y/n held both of Joel’s cheeks in her hands while he maneuvered her on top of him, their lips never losing their connection. The sadness of the song had drawn them together, both needing to feel the fullness of each other’s devotion to counter the loss that the notes had grieved. That wasn’t them, they said with each touch, it could never be them.

—————————

September 28th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

Fall had hit Texas, as much as it could affect the south, anyway. Sarah and Y/n were in the backyard of the Milller home. Sarah had her first soccer game of the season that weekend and she wanted to get in some extra practice.

“Okay,” Y/n called from the goal, “Don’t go easy on me.”

“Yeah, right,” Sarah scoffed, she was never afraid to show the full force of her talent on the field. Faking Y/n out, she broke to the left before making a sudden right turn and shooting the ball through the goal.

“Yes,” she exclaimed, pulling her fists down in celebration.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Y/n smirked, coming up beside Sarah as she did a little victory dance, “Don’t get too cocky. Let’s work on your goalkeeping.”

Sarah grooved her way back to the goal, “Okay, but I’m kinda spectacular at that too.”

“Well, we certainly don’t need to work on your confidence,” Y/n remarked. Sarah had the same cockiness, reserved only for things she was truly great at, as her father.

Joel materialized then, coming through the back door and watching his girls from the deck. “How we lookin’?”

“Today, Taft Middle School,” Y/n replied, catching the ball with her heel as Sarah kicked it, “Tomorrow, FIFA.”

Joel smiled proudly, both at Sarah and Y/n. Most women would have kept distance between them and their partner’s child. Y/n had jumped in headfirst, determined to be there for Sarah as much as she wanted her. She was the feminine influence his daughter had been denied all her life.

“Alright,” Y/n announced, “Good?”

Sarah nodded, “Good.”

Joel saw an opportunity and couldn’t pass it up. He carefully made his way down the steps of the deck, sneaking through the grass and up behind Y/n just as she was about to make her shot. As she wound her leg back, Joel wrapped his arms around her middle and lifted her into the air.

Y/n shrieked as she was swung around, “Joel!”

“Sarah, steal it,” he yelled, smiling as Y/n wriggled in his embrace.

Sarah surged forward, avoiding Y/n’s flailing legs as she fought against Joel, and snatched the ball. She moved through the grass effortlessly and landed a perfect kick into the net.

Laughing heartily, Joel finally released Y/n back to the ground. He shared a high-five with his daughter as she bounded back to them.

“You two are awful,” Y/n gave Joel a shove to his chest, her wide grin contradicting her words.

Joel hung an arm around his girlfriend’s neck, pressing a kiss to her temple. “C’mon,” he separated from Y/n and clapped his hands, “Two-on-one, girls vs. boys.”

“We’re gonna destroy you,” Sarah teased, coming to stand beside Y/n.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” he quipped, standing in front of the goal.

The three of them stayed out until sunset, practicing plenty, but laughing more than anything.

—————————

December 25th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

The Millers didn’t do anything spectacular for Christmas. A church service on the 24th, a simple dinner on the 25th, and presents.

It had been decided that both Tommy and Y/n would spend the night, it would make waking up and opening gifts easier than waiting for them to drive over. Tommy had taken the collapsable cot, his body was still used to military accommodations, while Y/n had gone for the couch. Joel and her were still hesitant to spend nights together, sleeping over at the other’s only when Sarah was away at her own sleepovers. Christmas didn’t feel like the time to test any boundaries.

Just past midnight, Y/n was still wide awake, tossing and turning on the sofa. There was a light snowfall happening outside and she hoped if she watched the flakes flutter through the air long enough, she’d drift off to sleep. So far, she’d had no such luck.

She took stock of the living room in its entirety. A fresh pine tree sat in the corner, a modest stack of presents surrounding the trunk. Two stockings were hung on the walls, Sarah and Joel’s names stitched across each. The room still faintly smelled like the batch of cookies her and Sarah had baked earlier in the evening. Even in the dark and completely silent, the house felt warm.

Footsteps down the stairs drew Y/n’s attention away from the decorations. She expected to see Sarah tiptoeing in to sneak a peek at the presents. Instead, Joel’s broad shadow entered the room.

“Can’t sleep?” Y/n asked from the couch.

Joel shook his head, “Nope.”

Y/n gave a small nod, pretending like the silence wasn’t as full of asking as it was. Joel’s posture had purpose in it, he wasn’t leaving until he got what he came for.

He tipped his head back towards the stairs, his eyes never leaving Y/n’s. “C’mon,” he said, his voice raspy with near sleep.

Y/n smiled to herself, throwing off her blanket and crossing the room to take Joel’s hand. The two of them tiptoed back up the stairs, trying not to wake Sarah or Tommy. Y/n knew the walk to Joel’s bedroom like the back of her hand, navigating in the dark made no difference. She certainly didn’t need Joel’s hands on her hips to guide her, but she welcomed them anyway.

Once the door shut, their routine commenced. Joel went to his dresser, blindly reaching into one of his drawers and tossing Y/n one of his flannels. Y/n slipped it on over her t-shirt, the sleeves ending way past the tips of her fingers. They made their way to their dedicated sides of the bed, Joel closest to the door because he felt better being a wall of protection between Y/n and the world.

“We have to get up before Sarah,” Y/n reminded him.

“We’ve got a 50% chance of makin’ it down before her,” Joel said, his hands gliding around her body to pull her into him, “Christmas morning, she’s up at the crack of dawn.”

Y/n drew closer to Joel, resting one hand on his chest and the other gripping the back of his neck. Already, she could feel her body relaxing in a way the couch just couldn’t coax out of her.

All the tension Joel had been carrying in his spine went lax the moment Y/n’s fingers grazed his skin. He was finding it harder and harder to sleep without her.

“Thank you,” she said out of the blue.

“For what?” Joel asked.

Y/n’s fingers danced along the line between the ends of his hair and the base of his skull. “For letting me be a part of all this,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s heart swelled, he took one of her cheeks into his hand and let their lips drift towards one another. Six months in, and he wasn’t sure if he could fall any harder in love with Y/n. She wasn’t just his, she was theirs. She was a permanent fixture in their home, the house a little less bright when she was absent from it. She had become a confidante to Sarah, a best friend to Tommy and everything to Joel. How could he not want her in every part of their lives?

“‘M afraid you’re stuck with us, Rosebud,” Joel smiled after he pulled back, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone.

“No place I’d rather be,” Y/n returned his grin.

Pressing one final kiss to her forehead, Joel tucked Y/n against his chest, his chin resting atop her head. She let her hand drift around to his back, her fingers spreading across the expanse as she tried to hold as much of him as she could. They fell asleep within minutes, the gentle snowstorm outside creating beauty that would only enhance the magic of Christmas for the Miller family.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

“Eye on me! Eyes on me!”

Joel’s eyes slid to the other side of the room, to the man with the barrel of his gun pointed at Ellie. Her and Y/n both had their hands raised high.

“You don’t have to worry about what to say,” the young man said, “We don’t wanna hurt you. We wanna help you.”

Joel watched him, he was shifting his weight between both feet, no expert marksman was that nervous to threaten someone’s life. Joel felt significantly better about his chances.

“Okay.”

“Okay, um…” the young man paused, “I don’t know what the next step is with something like this, but if I lower my gun…we didn’t hurt you…so you don’t hurt us…right?”

Joel stared him down, “That’s right.”

“That’s a weird fuckin’ tone, man,” their enemy replied.

“That’s just the way he sounds,” Ellie interrupted, first looking to the stranger and then back to Joel, “He has an asshole voice. Joel, tell him he’s okay.”

Joel stared, nearly a hint of a smirk at his lips, “Everything is great.”

“Dude…” Ellie muttered.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Y/n intervened, looking to the man, “Now drop the fucking guns before I second guess myself.”

“That wasn’t any better,” Ellie exclaimed.

“Fuck! Okay, listened,” the stranger started, his voice practically trembling, “I’m gonna trust you.”

He then stopped to signal something to the child, Y/n recognized it as ASL. They communicated something none of them could understand.

“But if any of you guys try anything,” the man kept his gun aimed at Ellie, nodding to Joel and Y/n, “Yeah? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ellie whispered, her heart was in her throat.

The child backed away from Joel and Y/n’s mattress, his aim still firmly locked onto them. Y/n was trying to get her heartbeat back down to a normal range.

“Can I sit up?” Joel asked, his voice was still on edge.

“Yeah,” the stranger conceded, “Slow. Get up slow.”

Joel obeyed, rising to a seated position without any rush. He raised his hands, the left one grazing Y/n’s injured right. Shockingly, the fleeting touch made her feel a little less nervous. If Joel was good for nothing else, at least he was a good fighter. They could get out of this easily, if necessary.

“Who are you?” Joel asked.

“My name’s Henry,” the now-named stranger answered, “That’s my brother, Sam. I’m the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now,” Henry finally lowered his gun, “My guess is you’re running a close second. Her too.”

Y/n and Joel looked to one another, that ambush was going to come back to bite them in the ass, one way or another.

“Henry,” Y/n spoke up, lowering her hands and laying them palm up in her lap, “We’re gonna need a lot more than that.”

The five of them ended up huddled around a lantern, snacking on their dwindling food supply and waiting for the rest of the story to unfold. Henry had made it clear that he had to get some food in his brother first. It had been Ellie’s idea to share what they had left.

“Where’d you get these?” Henry asked, chewing on a cracker.

“From Bill,” Ellie answered, “He’s dead.”

Y/n and Joel had been watching Sam, digging into what they’d shared with him as if he hadn’t eaten in days. There was a real possibility of it, or something along the lines. They both wordlessly handed what was left of their portions to the boy, who in return, signed something to his brother.

“He says ‘thank you,’” Henry relayed, “I’m guessing you don’t have much so, this means a lot.”

“How old is he?” Ellie asked.

The brothers talked amongst themselves, with Henry answering, “He’s eight.”

Ellie nodded, “Cool. I’m Ellie.”

“Y/n,” Y/n spoke up, wanting to try and make the child feel as comfortable as the circumstances would allow.

Henry spelled out the names for Sam, who responded with a sign that both Y/n and Ellie assumed meant ‘cool.’

Ellie smiled before smacking Joel on the knee and waiting for him to introduce himself.

“I’m Joel,” he swallowed his last bite, “Look, you ate, we didn’t kill each other, let’s call this a win-win and move on.”

Henry dusted off his hands, “Well, I’m betting that y’all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun’s up, I’ll show you one.”

Joel and Y/n thought it over separately before glancing over at one another. If Henry hadn’t killed them by now, he wouldn’t. He already knew their supply was low, the only reason he was sticking around was because he needed something from them.

“Okay,” Y/n answered for them, earning a quick turn and glare from Joel, “Sam can take our bed. As soon as morning hits, you show us the route.”

Henry scoffed, “Just like that you’re gonna trust us?”

“I know the eyes of a liar, Henry,” Y/n leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee, “And you don’t have ‘em. You weren’t even going to kill us in the first place, and you certainly weren’t gonna make him do it.”

Joel was ready to jump in at any second, but Y/n spoke with such precision and intention, he couldn’t come up with any reason to stop her.

“So how about we get some sleep,” Y/n continued, “And tackle this tomorrow?”

Henry’s eyes focused in on Y/n, someone as calculated as she was was either the most honest person on the planet or so calcuating and conniving, they could deceive the worst of humanity.

“Okay,” he landed on trust, “First thing.”

Ellie and Sam settled onto their makeshift mattresses, while the adults sat against the walls of the apartment. Henry on one side, Joel and Y/n on the other.

“What happened to equals?” Joel asked, the edge to his words undercutting the softness of their volume.

“Would what you have said been any different?” Y/n countered, watching as Joel tried to come up with an answer that differed from hers, “Exactly.”

The two of them stayed close to one another, without actually touching. Y/n was still slightly rattled from waking up with Joel’s hand over hers.

“Although my fucking neck’s gonna be messed up all day,” Y/n mumbled, trying to find a comfortable position to rest her head against the wall.

While they trusted an already sleeping Henry enough not to kill them, instinct told both Y/n and Joel to not leave themselves in such a vulnerable positon again. Sleeping sitting up was the only option that would allow them a little bit of rest.

And Joel hated what he was about to offer.

“You can…” he pointed to his shoulder, “If you want.”

“I don’t want” Y/n quickly replied.

Joel sighed in exasperation, “Forget I offered.”

He crossed his arms and settled against the wall, shutting his eyes and shutting down his momentary lapse into generosity.

Y/n inhaled, trying to get over herself. She was getting way too much up close and personal time with Joel to feel comfortable. But it was either another dose or a hideous day of lingering discomfort without the blessing of Ibuprofen.

She awkwardly scooted closer to him until their thighs were touching, causing Joel to open one eye. He looked down at their parallel bodies and back to Y/n.

“Just don’t grab my hand,” she grumbled, laying her head down on his shoulder and praying that her stomach stayed unaffected.

Joel’s body stiffened as she rested on him, a quick shot of adrenaline running through his extremities. He wanted to pretend to be unmoved, unbothered by her touch, but it was impossible. He would never fully be without affection for the way she felt against him.

“Go ahead,” Y/n said, sensing his discomfort but mistaking it for simply physical.

Joel hesitated a few seconds before shaking himself out of his doubt and resting his head on top of Y/n’s.

When the weight of Joel’s skull fell on hers, Y/n’s natural instincts took over and she almost, almost, tucked into him more. It was by the grace of God that she caught herself before she did it. No matter how hard her mind loathed him, her body would have accepted him back in a heartbeat.

The two ex-lovers sat against the wall, still trying to convince themselves that they were miles apart.

—————————

Just as the night before, they woke up so much closer than intended.

Y/n had fully curled into Joel, snuggling into his chest at some point during their glorified nap. When she woke up to the rough scratch of his flannel agaisnt her cheek, drowsiness did not immediately remind her she was in the year 2023. In her sleep-adled state, it was winter of 2002.

When consciousness pulled her back to the land of the living, she lightly groaned. Why were their sleeping selves making everything so complicated?

Y/n rolled off of Joel, causing him to sharply inhale. He blinked a few times, rubbed a hand over his face and evaluated the room. Henry was still asleep, but Sam and Ellie were already awake and sitting on the edges of their beds.

Y/n was beside him, at least twelve inches of space between them.

“I do anything in my sleep?” Joel asked.

Y/n shook her head, sucking on her bottom lip, “Nope.”

Joel wasn’t buying it, “Then whydya got that look on your face?”

“I know why,” Ellie teased in a sing-song tone.

Y/n let out two loud claps, startling Henry awake, and got to her feet. “Rise and shine, time to work.”

Joel stayed on the ground, watching how fast she moved around the room. Something had happened and it had messed with her. He ran a hand over his right shoulder, noticing that it was warm when the rest of him felt cold. He peered back over at Y/n, rifling through her backpack to find Ellie and Sam breakfast. He watched how she crouched down and handed the kids what was assuredly the lion’s share of her rations. How she held up a questioning thumbs up to Sam, who in return, smiled and copied the gesture. How she cared. She still cared so much.

It was killing him.

But there were bigger things to worry about than the stirring in his heart for the woman who perhaps, hadn’t changed that much at all.

————————————

Once fed and watered, the group of five headed a few floors up to the apartment building’s conference room. Henry had promised it had the best view of the city.

“Welcome to Killa City,” he announced, showcasing the place in daylight through the massive windows.

“No FEDRA,” Joel observed.

“Not as of ten days ago, no,” Henry replied.

“We always heard KC FEDRA was-“

“Monsters? Savages?” Henry finished for Joel, “Yeah, you heard right. Raped and tortured and murdered people for twenty years.”

Y/n looked down at her shoes, “Fucking hell.” It was stories like Kansas City that were one of her reasons for joining the Fireflies.

“And you know what happens when you do that to people?” Henry continued, “The moment they get a chance, they do it right back to you.”

“But you’re not FEDRA,” Joel stated.

Henry paused before answering, “No…worse. I’m a collaborator.”

Joel shook his head, “I don’t work with rats.”

Y/n wasn’t so quick to walk away, Henry had too much of a heart it seemed to be a true collaborator. He had a story.

“Yeah, you fucking do,” Henry said, “Today you do, ‘cause I live here and you two don’t. That’s how I followed you here. I know this city and I’m gonna help you out.”

Joel watched Henry as he spoke, trying to see through him, “Why help us?”

“I saw what you two did,” Henry answered, “The way you killed those men. Now I know where to go, but I don’t know how to make it through alone, not if it’s just Sam and me.”

“You seem capable enough,” Joel replied, “You’re armed.”

“You’re wrong and wrong,” Henry said, “Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at you was the closest I’ve ever come to being violent.”

Y/n nodded, no one let their hand shake that much when holding a loaded gun.

“So that’s the deal,” Henry stated, “I show you the way, you clear the way.”

Joel didn’t need anyone else slowing them down or making them more noticeable. And partnering with Henry would only make them bigger targets.

At the table behind them, Ellie and Sam were seated, reading from Ellie’s pun book. The energy was divided down the room; the grown-up side was deathy heavy while the kid’s side was warm and uplifting.

“Haven’t heard that in a long time,” Henry smiled, watching his little brother laugh.

Joel turned back to the window as he tried to put distance between him and the moment. Y/n glanced over at him, watching as the cogs in his mind turned. Her mind was already made up, it would have been wonderful if they could avoid an argument.

“So how’re we getting out?” Joel relented, turning to Henry.

Henry fetched a piece of paper from one of the drawers, office supplies had never been in high demand post-pandemic. He sketched out a square, writing down the names of the roads that cut through the city.

“Highways…” he pointed to one section, “Downtown,” then to the other, “Us. This whole area belongs to Kathleen.”

“And she is…?” Y/n asked, standing between Joel and Henry.

“Leader of the resistance,” Henry answered, “You can see the way we’re bounded by highways. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question.”

“So how do we get across?” Ellie asked.

Henry banged a fist against the table to get Sam’s attention, signing something to him after. Sam went to drawing on his magnetic erase pad, Joel wasn’t made to feel any better about a kid being involved in the planning of their escape.

Sam held up his pad, having written the word ‘Tunnels’ on it.

Henry snapped his fingers, “Boom.”

“Kansas City has a subway?” Joel asked.

“No,” Henry answered, “But they do have maintenance tunnels. There’s a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including…” he pointed down to a specific section of his sketch, “A bank building here,” he began to draw their route, “So we enter the tunnels here, travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential. There’s an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, pedestrian bridge over the river,” Henry dropped his pencil, “Free as a bird.”

“You’re right,” Joel admitted, “It’s a great plan. So what do you need us for?”

Henry hesitated a moment, “You notice anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange shit you’ve already seen?”

“No Infected?” Ellie guessed before Y/n and Joel could.

“Oh, there’s Infected,” Henry replied, “Just not on the surface. FEDRA drove them underground fifteen years ago, and never let them come back up. It’s the only good thing those fascist motherfuckers ever did.’

Joel looked between Y/n and Ellie, “So you want us goin’ into a tunnel?”

“Everyone thinks that it’s full of Infected,” Henry quickly corrected, he sensed Joel’s doubt, “Including Kathleen, which means that we’re not gonna be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is…it’s empty.”

“You know this?” Y/n questioned, “You’ve seen it? With your own eyes?”

“No,” Henry replied.

Joel took a deep breath, hands on his hips again. Y/n sighed and rested her elbows on the table. Henry was losing them both.

“But the FEDRA guy that I worked with told me that it’s clean,” the young man continued, “Completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“How long ago?” Y/n asked, shutting her eyes as if it could shut out their problems.

“Like,” Henry shrugged, “Three years ago.”

Joel scoffed, glancing to Ellie as if asking if she was believing this either.

“Okay, maybe there’s one or two,” Henry quickly said, “But you can handle it.”

“You’re making this sound a whole lot simpler than it is,” Y/n responded, looking to Joel, whose eyes were already expectantly waiting on her. “We need a minute.

Y/n pushed open the glass doors, bringing them outside the conference room and giving them a sliver of privacy.

Joel pointed a finger behind them, “You still feel good about this?”

“Not exceptionally, no,” she answered truthfully, “But we don’t exactly have a lot of other options, now do we?”

“If this guy’s gonna endanger our lives more than if we were on our own,” Joel argued, “Then we’re better off-“

“Fighting our way through a city we’ve never been in with targets the size of Texas on our backs?” Y/n finished for him, “Look, I don’t wanna go down there either. But we’re guaranteed a very slow, very painful death if we go it alone. I’d rather have allies and stand a chance, at least.”

Joel wanted to fight tooth and nail, but he knew she was right. She’d always had a talent for being right.

“Plus, it’ll give you plenty to lord over Tommy’s head when we get to Wyoming,” Y/n quipped, her mouth still frowned but her eyes were lit up with humor.

Joel huffed, he’d have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire. The thought of seeing his brother and his ex together again was a sight he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to see.

Without another word, and a silent concession from Joel, the two of them marched back into the conference room where the debate was still being held.

Henry pointed to Ellie, “She says y’all fought off two Clickers. Is that true?”

Joel and Y/n uncomfortably shifted, the dread sweeping over them.

“And you’re still alive,” Henry stated, “You see? You’re the right people. If it gets bad down there, we turn around, and run right back out the same way we came.”

Joel was about one poorly constructed sentence away from giving the whole idea up, “Oh, that’s your great plan?”

“No, that’s my dicey-as-fuck plan,” Henry fired back, “But as far as I can tell, it’s our only shot.”

Sam signed something to Henry.

“They’re saying,” Henry narrated as he signed back, “They’re going to help us escape,” he turned back to the party, “Right?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “That was a low fuckin’ blow, man.”

Henry didn’t seem bothered at all by the manipulation.

Joel’s jaw twitched as he thought it all over. Y/n could practically feel his unease. She craned her neck back, muttering more into his body than at him, “Lesser of two evils.”

With every fiber of his being, Joel wanted to fight. But instead, he let his hands fall against his legs, admitting defeat.

—————————

The team got across the city with minimal close calls, every once in a while there’d be a truck or patrol group to avoid. They got to the bank building intact and only slightly out of breath.

“We need to get outta sight,” Joel said, every entrance/exit of the place was structured in a glass wall.

“Uh, I-I-I think it’s this way,” Henry pointed towards one of the halls, the rest of them following.

They trailed through the building till they hit a back door, hopefully leading to the tunnel entrance. Joel and Y/n entered it cautiously with their guns drawn.

“This should be it,” Henry announced, “You ready?”

Joel looked to Ellie, “Get your gun out.”

Rebelling in her own small way, once again, Ellie pulled out the gun from her jacket pocket. At this point, Joel wasn’t surprised in the least that she wasn’t heeding his advice. Him and Y/n marched forward regardless and took the lead. They entered through another door, delivering them into the tunnel system.

“You see?” Henry proved, “It’s empty. The plan is good.”

Joel and Y/n quickly shushed him. “‘The plan is good?’” Joel repeated, “We’ve been down here two seconds. We don’t know anything.”

Henry looked to Ellie, “Your dad’s kind of a pessimist.”

“I’m not her dad.”

“He’s not my dad.”

“He’s not her dad.”

Joel, Y/n and Ellie’s protests overlapped.

“Just point your light forward,” Joel instructed, tightly gripping his own, “And be ready to run.”

Y/n steadied her breathing and began to move beside Joel down the underground maze.

They walked for around an hour, snaking down the sets of tunnels, holding their flashlights and handguns as if they were life itself. Eventually, they turned down a hall with child’s art painted all along it. The door was even painted as castle. All of them examined the walls in quiet confusion.

Sam bounded forward, wanting to go through and explore. Joel threw his hand out to stop him, “No.”

Y/n tucked her flashlight under her chin and gripped her pistol, sharing an affirmative nod with Joel that they were ready. He slowly turned the doorknob and it creaked open, revealing a room that looked…civilized.

The whole place looked like a daycare center. There were toys scattered throughout storage bins, art and books against the walls, small cups, and a faded soccer goal painted across one of the cinderblock walls.

“I heard about places this this,” Joel commented, taking stock of their surroundings, “People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

“What happened to them?” Ellie asked.

“Maybe they didn’t follow the rules and all got infected,” Joel replied.

While Ellie and Sam sat down, playing with a few of the toys, Y/n, Henry and Joel scanned the room. Whoever had been living there, they’d been gone long enough for a layer of dust to settle across everything.

“Hey,” Joel called to Ellie who was being a little too loud, “Keep it down. We’re not out yet.”

“Ah, c’mon,” Ellie groaned, “Can we just rest here for a while? There’s, like, actually shit to do here.”

“Wouldn’t be so bad to wait the light out a bit,” Henry agreed, “Safer in the shadows when we pop back out on the other side.”

Joining Ellie and Henry, Y/n tilted her head in a slight shrug to Joel. It was a smart decision and he was just going to have to get over himself.

Joel shrugged back to the group, raising an eyebrow and going back to checking out the room.

Ellie and Sam occupied themselves by reading comic books and messing around with some of the toys. Henry, Joel and Y/n rested at a table, putting their feet up without actually relaxing at all. At some point, Ellie and Sam switched to kicking a soccer ball around on the makeshift field. Y/n watched carefully as Ellie interacted with the boy, she was so caring and patient. She’d confided that she didn’t have any brothers or sisters, but the glow coming from her radiated big sister energy.

Y/n scooted her chair back and walked across the room. “Can I join?”

Ellie enthusiastically began to switch the ball between her feet, trying to fake Y/n out. Y/n rotated to stand alongside Sam at the goal.

“That’s not fair,” Ellie argued, “There’s two of you.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you can’t do it,” Y/n teased.

Ellie’s determination set in, jumping slightly in place before kicking the ball in between Sam and Y/n’s legs quicker than they could stop it.

“Oh, shit,” she exclaimed, shooting her hands into the air.

Sam and Y/n shared a laugh before Y/n got down on her knees, “Can you teach me something?”

Sam watched her lips and nodded, showing her a sign. To her, it looked like he was pulling something out of his mouth, before bringing his two thumbs up and splitting their directions at his chest.

Y/n mimicked it, “What does this mean?”

“Oh, that’s from Savage Starlight,” Ellie exclaimed, copying the gesture with them, “‘Endure and survive.’”

The three of them continued to sign it over and over. It seemed to make both Ellie and Sam extremely happy, which meant Y/n would do it as many times as they wanted.

Joel and Henry watched from their seats. To say Joel’s heart ached would have been an understatement. His soul was barely holding together, a new piece of it dying off every day. But Y/n and Ellie had somehow kept the last few from withering. It was so subtle, he hadn’t even figured the phenomenon out yet. He was barely self-aware. But seeing Y/n, crouched down on the floor with the kids, still with the innate need to make the world around her better, he came to fully realize his thought from earlier in the day.

She was still his Y/n.

Smiling, laughing, loving, caring, kinder than the world deserved. Underneath all the anger was the woman he had loved with all his heart.

And that fucking terrified him.

As Y/n made her way back to them, Joel pulled himself back to reality, switching gears and channeling his energy into focusing on the kids. Specifically Sam. He was eight years old and in survival mode. No child deserved that. It was making him rethink his stance on the things he’d said earlier.

“If you were collaboratin’ to take care of him,” he said to Henry, “I…I shouldn’t have save what I said. I don’t know your situation. And I’m not sayin’ they should let it go, but all things considered, seems kinda cruel—to send a whole army after you for that.”

Henry waited a few seconds, Ellie’s cheers filling the silence, before speaking. “You know, I wasn’t, uh…exactly telling you the truth before…about me not killing someone.”

Y/n and Joel’s attention turned to him exclusively.

“There was a man,” Henry began, “A great man. You know, he was never afraid…never selfish…and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kinda man you’d follow anywhere.”

Y/n tensed up, forbidding her eyes from flicking to Joel.

“I mean, I wanted to. Well…I would’ve,” Henry gathered strength for the rest of his story, “Yeah, but, uh…Sam, he, uh, he got sick. Leukemia,” he scanned Joel and Y/n’s somber expressions, “Yeah, anyway, um…there was one drug that worked and, whoa, big shock…there wasn’t much left of it, and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some, it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen’s brother.”

Understanding washed over Joel and Y/n. All the firepower, the tanks, the trucks, it all made sense.

“Yeah, so, you still think they should take it easy on me?” Henry asked rhetorically, “Or am I the bad guy?”

Y/n stayed silent, weighing morals against necessity. Joel pulled his lips down, barely shaking his head before Henry cut off what he would have said, “I don’t know what you’re waitin’ on, man. The answer’s easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing.”

“But you did it to keep him alive,” Y/n spoke up, “You’d go to the ends of the earth for him. That’s not evil, that’s family.”

Henry’s eyes cut through the space between Joel and Y/n, “You two get it,” he nodded toward Joel, ”You may not be her father, but you were someone’s. See, I could tell.”

There it was. The big, dreadful, terrible thing that Joel and Y/n had gotten this far without talking about. It was the unspoken wound, the one deep enough to kill yet shallow enough that it didn’t show. It was a constant phantom pain in both their chests and it broke them all over again to have it brought up.

“You too,” Henry smiled at Y/n, nodding to Ellie, “That is, if she’s not yours.”

Y/n didn’t think the blade could slide any deeper into her heart. She had been something to someone once, and it was as much a part of her still as the air she breathed.

“Uh,” Y/n tearily began, clearing her throat quickly, “No, she’s not mine.”

Joel had had more than he could handle just by Henry’s assumption about him. Referring to Y/n as the word he couldn’t bring himself to utter in that context had sent him over the edge. He picked up his gun from the table and practically jumped to his feet, “We’ve waited long enough.”

Y/n stayed still at the table, holding back her tears took so much strength, it was stealing her ability to move. If she allowed herself to cry in front of Joel, she didn’t think she’d ever recover.

Henry didn’t ask questions, he didn’t bring up the very visible sorrow etched across Y/n’s face. Some hurt was palpable without ever being touched on, and it was painfully clear that Joel hadn’t been the only one to lose a child…

————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda @avengersfan25 @pedr0swh0r3 (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #twenty years later #the last of us spoilers

[saintwyfe]

࿐ ˚ . ✦ SKINCARE. jude bellingham

summary. begging your boyfriend to do face masks together

cw. none, fluff

word count. 1054

after scrolling through tiktok and coming across multiple videos of couples together (specifically doing face masks and skincare), you had the bright idea of bothering your boyfriend, jude.

"juuuudeeee," you flung yourself onto the boy next to you, who’d also been on his phone.

"what, babe?" he replied, his eyes still preoccupied by what seemed to be some sort of mobile game.

"let’s do face masks together," you whined, stretching your arms to move the phone from his face, attempting to steer his attention toward you.

he shot you a critical glance while dodging your attempts to fling his phone. "uhm…" he paused while tapping away, "let’s do it later."

you scoffed, "i can’t do it later, though." you sat up from your previous position, "please, babe. it’ll be so much more fun than your game."

"mhm, for sure," he chuckled, contesting your statement. you rolled your eyes in annoyance..

"what’s so fun about it, anyway? it looks so... boring. you’ll have so much more fun doing masks with me." you queried, wiggling yourself next to him to see his screen. "yeah, this cannot possibly be fun at all," you added.

watching as he’d been fixated on his phone, he let out a quick mutter, "you raid people’s stuff. it’s actually really fun," he replied.

you scanned the game for a few more seconds before letting out a dramatic huff, turning to the side, and prated, "hmph, why does my dear boyfriend, whom i love so much, hate me?" you flung your hand to your head, imitating some sort of terrible monologue.

his head tossed over to where you’d been hurling. "what? i never said that. that’s nonsense," he retorted in defiance.

you shook your head, "that’s what you’re implying, though."

"how?" he sneered, unimpressed by your exaggeration.

"because, you don’t want to spend time with me, so what can that mean other than that you hate me?" you responded, turning back over to him.

"that’s not true. i actually love you, very much," he replied, "plus, are we not spending time together right now?" 

"i mean, yeah, but doing this would be so much more fun. and memorable," you jabbed. "plus we can run a bath or make cookies or something," you cooed, clasping your hands together.

he sighed, placing his now shut off phone next to him, "i don’t want to get out of bed, though."

you stared in disapproval at his uncooperativeness before hunching over to his side of the bed, "you’re actually so lazy." pulling onto his lengthy arm, you did your utmost to try getting him out of his aloof position. him being so heavy obviously outweighed this attempt.

"jude, just get up," you whined, ceasing your efforts. a small moment of silence followed as you eyed him dozing off at the ceiling.

"fine," he gave in, departing from the bed. you let out a small cheer after all of your hard work and dedication.

scurrying to your bathroom, you quickly scanned through the cabinets for the appropriate supplies: cleanser, serum, clay masks, moustrizer… because you weren’t just doing face masks. of course, it'd only be right to do an entire routine, of course, even though he didn’t deserve it after all that tedious convincing.

"are you making it or something? why is there so much stuff?" he inquired, head tilting.

"uhh, yeah…" you drawled, trying not to suggest anything that’ll make him turn away. "wait, let me grab something for you." you dashed to your vanity, grabbing your hello kitty headband and concealing it behind your back.

"oh no, what is it," he cried. 

"shh, just close your eyes," you instructed, snickering while fetching the scrunched headband over his head. instinctively, his eyes fluttered open, mouth dropping. "y/n, take this off. i look so dumb," his mouth agape while skimming himself in the mirror. 

you chuckled away as you tried to snap a picture. "you look like such a pretty princess."

he shot you a glare before shaking his head, "please, take this off."

"no, no, it’s fine, it’ll be quick," you snorted, still trying to relive his reaction, "c’mon, let me wash your face."

you turned the tap on, pumping your favorite cleanser into your hands before rubbing them together, creating a soapy mixture when mixed with water.

"turn toward me," you commanded, rubbing your hands on his face in a circular motion, but obviously struggling a bit because of the height difference. 

"you’re so damn tall," you murmured as he sneered, "not my fault you’re so short." he teased as his arms cradled your waist. 

"okay, rinse your face now," he nodded, turning toward the sink. you quickly reached for the cleanser, repeating your previous actions.

after cleansing both of your faces, you grabbed your favorite clay mask, twisting the cap before turning to your boyfriend beside you. with a brush, you dipped into the container before painting his face, leaving it a shade of teal.

"i look so ridiculous right now," he stifled a laugh as you covered his forehead in the paste.

"ridiculously cute," you prompted, teasing him.

he chuckled before flinging himself inches from your face, "oh yeah?" his taunting immediately made you laugh before he pecked his lips against your cheek, leaving bits of blue residue on your face. you pulled away, giggling.

"stop, i was just kidding." you cocked your head to the side, "i meant to say ridiculously ugly," you mumbled.

"hm?" he chirped. "nothing," you said, clearing your throat before turning back to apply your mask after being distracted. he rolled his eyes as he watched you run the paste onto your face, as well.

after covering the last piece of skin, you finally placed the container on the counter before muttering, "20 minutes, okay?" earning a nod from him. "let me take a cute picture, though." you grabbed your phone, opening the photos app, and snapped away. his poses did not disappoint, though he seemed to be annoyed just 10 minutes prior, he’d been throwing up peace signs, winks, and duck lips. you found yourself surprised at the sudden interest, but you realized great minds think alike (skincare & selfies>his dumb mobile game).

"ooh!" you suddenly blurted. "let’s make tiktoks while they set." you smirked. he sighed, but ultimately knew there was no way out of this.

an: gamer bf skincare gf trope 😜 expect more ffs soon i'm gna make it a goal to stop slacking + tysm for all the love on my last post ❥

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #football fanfic #football imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #football imagines #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham

[babyjakes]

weaponized incompetence. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | jan '23 blurb night

summary | when faced with orgasm troubles, who could be better to trust than an expert in the field? surely he has nothing but sound intentions...

pairing | doctor!andy barber x reader

warnings | andy presents as soft and kind enough but what he is doing is so evil and cruel, all the gaslighting in the world, alllll the yummy medfet elements (or at least most of them): exam table, gloves, restraints, etc., clit cream hehe <3, reader isn't unwilling but she is extremely distressed, crying, humiliation, clinical babble, encouragement, REAL PUFF PUFF BEHAVIOR, edging, no happy ending >:^(

word count | 628

requested by anon | Reader visits Dr. Mean (Ari/Steve/Bucky) because she can’t orgasm. Dr.(whoever you chose) decides to help her as only his fingers, mouth, cock, med equipment can, but realizes if he makes her cum- she won’t need to come back. So he stops right at the edge. Every time. Several times in one session. He tells her how worried he is she can’t cum, and if she tries on her own or with a non medical professional, she may get worse/sick/hurt.

an | ohh bestie this is so sexy of you, i love all of this hehe <3 i hope it's alright that i went with andy, i just thought he could fit this idea really well (and we have plenty of stevie and ari coming later lol!) thanks so much for sharing, you slutty mastermind :^)

"C'mon, sweetheart. You're doing so good for me."

With the tops of your calves straining against the strong nylon restraints holding you in place, you did your best to keep your sobs at bay as your chest rose and fell heavily with each agonizing breath. You weren't sure how long you had been there, strapped to that dreaded exam table with your legs spread wide and high, the calm, steady presence of Dr. Barber placed directly at the entrance to your most private places as he tried to assist you in your seemingly hopeless conquest of achieving an orgasm. You had gotten close, painfully close, so many times at the doctor's skillful hands. But for some reason, you just couldn't manage to cross the finish line.

As the dark-haired man pulled away momentarily to change his gloves, the old pair dripping from your heightened state of arousal, you blinked back further tears. What if it's hopeless, you wondered. The sound of Dr. Barber snapping on a new pair of gloves made you wince; gazing up at you sympathetically, he spoke with a softened tone. "Here, I have one more thing I wanna try. It's a sensitizing cream," he explained as he grabbed the packet from the tray beside him, "nothing scary or painful. But it should help increase your sensitivity to my touch."

He squeezed out a fair amount of the clear gel onto his gloved pointer finger, warming the product between its pad and his thumb before trailing his gaze back up to your abused sex. Focusing in on your little bundle of nerves, he gathered it between his finger and thumb like a little bead of clay, rolling it tenderly to cover the entire nub in the punishing paste. Its effects could be felt almost instantly; with more tears welling in your eyes, a loud whimper sounded in your throat. "Shhh, you're alright," the doctor crooned, his other hand coming up to tease a few fingers at the entrance to your soaked heat. "Here we go, honey. One more time for me," he mumbled as he began fucking two of his large digits back into you, continuing to roll your puffy clit between fingers as it only swelled further in size.

"Your clitoris is responding well to the cream, I can feel it throbbing against me," he noted as your heart began to race at the building sensations. "Your Grafenberg spot seems to be in perfect working order too," he added as he thrust his fingers up against the soft, squishy ceiling of your inner walls. "Can you feel it building up inside of you, y/n? Are you starting to get the urge to let go, to release?"

"Yes, yes-" you panted, squeezing your eyes shut as you strained once more against the heavy restraints the doctor had put in place. "Please doctor, I-I can feel it coming, I-..."

"That's it, sweetheart. Almost there. Just gotta..." But just as you felt yourself reaching the precipice of your pent-up frustrations, Dr. Barber's voice cut in like a hot knife as things began to sputter out, the feelings dying down to your absolute horror. "Oh dear, again...?" he sighed as he spread back the hood of your clit with his thumb and forefinger, watching the poor little nub twitch and spasm in hopeless need. At your realization of yet another failure, you couldn't help it; heaving, you began to sob loudly in despair. "Shhh, shhh," the doctor tried to console you, snapping off his gloves before wheeling his stool up to sit at your side, reaching out a consoling hand to stroke your arm. "It's alright, sweetheart. We'll keep trying. I won't give up on you, y/n. You just have to keep working with me, okay?"

#eun's writing #weaponized incompetence #eun's blurb nights #jan ‘23 blurb night #andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber one shot #andy barber imagine #andy barber headcanon #andy barber blurb #andy barber drabble #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #chris evans #chris evans smut #defending jacob

[404-mind-not-found]

Draft 2 of the synopsis is COMPLETE!

The full version is under the cut, as it's much longer than the first. Two new songs were added, one about Charlotte and Elizabeth and another about Michael. Some other plot things were fixed and expanded upon. Feedback or ideas are appreciated! ^^

ACT I

William and Henry spend their day at Freddy Fazbear's, revelling in the success of the four month old establishment plus their already existing Fredbear's, while William's children fail to get along (The Spark). However, it's quickly revealed that William is a manipulative and controlling villain and not just a busy dad who means well for everyone. After an argument which ends in Henry refusing to make any more restaurants with him so soon, he becomes furious. Later that month, Charlotte is found outside Fredbear's by herself on a rainy night, and he murders her in a fit of delirious anger (Mine, Forever). Everybody is devastated, especially Henry, who promises he would find out who did the crime.

Besides this, everything continues as normal until William's youngest son's birthday, which was at Fredbear's. The child in question, however, is not happy about going to this place for his birthday, as he can only be reminded of Charlotte (The Birthday). Michael, sick of his claims of hearing her voice, takes him up to the stage with his friends during the birthday and lifts him to the Fredbear animatronic, asking him if Fredbear was talking to him. However, one of Michael's friends tripped forwards, causing all of them to stumble and Fredbear to bite down onto the child's head, which kills him instantly. The friends flee as Michael stands dumbfounded, until William arrives at the scene to pull him away. When alone, Charlotte's soul reveals to his brother that she was possessing the Puppet animatronic made to protect her, and she guides his own soul to Fredbear. Fredbear's closes because of this, and William scolds Michael harshly (The Bite).

The event would tear the Afton family apart even more, Elizabeth no longer trusting Michael, and William spending even less time with his children than before. William has more frequent arguments with everyone, including his wife, who flees and and leaves the children behind. William, however, was more concerned about the changed atmosphere inside the restaurants. After one of his shifts at Freddy's, he travels to the closed Fredbear's and takes the Puppet to his house for investigations, starting to understand that Charlotte's soul was residing within (Agony). He spends the next ten months studying what he dubbed Remnant.

After this time skip, at Henry's home, Henry receives a phone call from his older sister Jen, who was coming down to visit him. She urges him to spend more time away from William as she does not trust him. It's revealed that Charlotte's soul was listening in to this conversation, but she could not communicate with either of them. Meanwhile, Elizabeth believes her own father is ignoring her on purpose, and is unable to get to sleep thinking about it (Why Can't You Hear Me?).

Elizabeth hears Charlotte calling her name, which causes her to jump out of her room into the hallway. Inside of his own room, William decides he needs to recreate the events of Charlotte's murder for his research on Remnant. With this in mind, he prepares to go and take the lives of four more children. His poor daughter overhears the entire plan from the hallway (Follow Me).

ACT II

By morning, everybody in town was aware of the bloody crime scene from the night before, and the police detective Clay starts investigating the situation. He discovers that the four children were taken by a man in a yellow rabbit suit, once that only someone with access to Fredbear's would be able to acquire. He rules down the suspects to the two owners and then suspects William as the murderer (Eye of the Hurricane). Freddy's is then shut down temporarily.

At their home, Elizabeth tells Michael everything that she overheard the night before, though she chose not to mention hearing Charlotte. Michael didn't believe her at first, but they chose to look through their father's room while he was away. They then discovered that he was the culprit after all (Daddy's Show). They then flee once he returns home. William then goes to the room and unveils the rabbit suit, believing that Remnant could cure his fear of death by “becoming one” with it. He understands he needs more Remnant, but knows he can't collect any while Clay suspects him.

A few days pass and Jen visits Henry's home. She was distraught that she arrived at such a horrible time and tries to convince him to leave Freddy's behind for his sake, which seems successful (Until The End). However, after she goes into the house, Henry finds a letter in his mailbox urging him to go there for the answers he had been looking for. He leaves, promising Jen this would be the last time, and she returns just a little too late, finding the note on the floor. Suspicious, she calls the police. Meanwhile, at the restaurant, William plans to murder Henry and frame it as a suicide done out of guilt to clear his name. The four victims are revealed to have been possessing each core animatronic, and listen in to his plan. They realise they need to stop it from occurring, or he may never be caught (Follow Me (Reprise)).

Wanting more answers, Elizabeth and Michael return to their father's room where they finally find the Puppet, who tells them her identity and that they need to go and discover the truth at Fredbear's. Elizabeth then confesses to Michael that she had heard Charlotte before, but did not tell him as she did not want him to react badly, causing Michael to question his past behaviour. Michael drives them there in William's stolen car. They find only Fredbear on stage and awaken their brother from inside the animatronic, who forgives them for falling under the influence of William. He also tells them that he is unable to move on without the other animatronics, and asks if he can follow them. Michael promises to be different this time around (Work In Progress). The Puppet stays to help Fredbear get to the destination.

A little later, Henry arrives at Freddy's and meets William, who confesses to his crimes and explains his future plans with the restaurant and the rabbit suit, before suddenly shoving him and stabbing him in the abdomen while he was dazed. Elizabeth and Michael appear at this time and Michael confronts his father while Elizabeth runs for the stage. William tries to convince Michael of trusting him but he sees through his ruse (You Can't). Before anything else can happen between the two Aftons, Clay appears and tells him to go with Elizabeth. Elizabeth goes to the stage where the Puppet had brought Fredbear to the others (how, she says, is a secret), and watched as they all reunited. Charlotte refuses to move on until William had been defeated, however (Happiest Day). Meanwhile, Clay and William fight, and Henry manages to stand to grab Clay's gun, which had been discarded. He shoots William's leg, allowing Clay to arrest him before becoming weak (Mine, Forever (Reprise)). Charlotte is able to communicate with him before she moves on with the others, and all of them say goodbye to William.

The town closes the case and moves on from the tragedies. Henry apologises to his sister, who is understandably annoyed, and after he heals, Freddy Fazbear's is remade into a new space for children with the help of Elizabeth and Michael. They decide that the best they can do is save any future children that may be in trouble (Save Them).

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf au #theatrics at freddy's au #starring: #william afton #henry emily #michael afton #mike afton #elizabeth afton #charlotte emily #and some others #it's almost midnight i don't want to tag them all

[officialparentofadrien]

𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒐 𝒊𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒕

HAH PULLED THIS ONE OUTTA MY ASS and it's kinda shitty too now that I proofread it pls excuse the bad quality writing...

Pairing: Midorima Shintaro x You (Fem Reader) featuring Takao being himself as usual. Warnings: As usual, curse words but fluff otherwise.

You let out a frustrated scream when your opponent yelled the cursed word that you loved yelling out but absolutely DESPISED hearing from other people. "UNO!!" Takao cheered, slamming his last card down on the table and putting more salt and squeezing lemon in the wound, his last card was a +4. Your frown deepened with every holler and laugh that came out of the ravenette's mouth as you tightly held onto your 5 remaining cards, and slammed your fist down. "AGAIN!" You said, glaring daggers at Takao who was still laughing. "Again what?" Takao asked, reducing to a fit of giggles. "Oh...You mean another round?" You seethed, "We're gonna keep playing TILL I WIN," The point guard raised his index finger and waved it in a disapproving manner, all with that stupid grin on his face. "Ah, no. We had a deal. If I lose, I'll be buying you a pink floaty for the class outing next month. But if YOU lose? Ohoho, my condition CLEARLY stated that you, my dear name will be confessing to Shin-chan." You hate to admit it, but you can't back out now. A deal IS a deal after all. But since you were prideful, you were willing to be a sore loser just to save every bit of dignity that you have.

"Goddamn you, Takao." "Ah no. Have you seen my face? God blessed me is what it is." "This is called peer pressure..." You whispered, face now burning up. The sound of the door sliding open with a slam caught both of your attention as you turned to see Midorima Shintaro himself. He walked towards the table you two are sitting at while carrying his lucky item for the day, a wonder woman figurine. You winced at the quality of the figurine. Not that it was bad, oh no... It was the exact opposite. The quality was so good you felt severe discomfort watching him lug it around with one hand around such rowdy people. It was probably made of clay too. You shook your thoughts away, "Hey, Shin-chan!! Guess what?" "Come on. Coach is gonna have both our heads on a stick if we delay any longer." The green-haired boy barely paid any attention to you, only focused on making it to practice. In a way, you were kinda glad. This way, you were able to admire him. You always thought he was pretty. Yet he was so unaware of it and when somebody points it out, he brushes it off. Yet if you look more closely, you'd be able to see a faint tint of rose on his cheeks.

"And stop bothering name," He added, looking over to you making you flinch as your eyes met his emerald ones. "Ah well..." You couldn't really deny it. Takao was such a pain in the ass today. You averted your eyes as Takao was dragged off his chair by Midorima, seemingly in a hurry. "Bye...? I guess," You said, waving to them. "YOU'RE NOT OFF THE HOOK YET, NAME!!" You let out a puff of breath that you were unaware of holding back, relief spreading through your body. You knew you were only delaying but later is better than now, or so you say. You know Takao would never rat you out, he's not that kind of person. But he would hold you to that promise.

"What the hell did I get myself into...?"

Unbeknownst to you, Takao also played with Midorima. Not basketball, or uno. He played Monopoly with him and if you ask him, nothing's sweeter than seeing the absolute look of defeat on Midorima's usually stoic face. They also had a bet that if Takao lost, he would be lugging Midorima around for a month (They usually play rock, paper, scissors) and if Takao won? You can probably guess. "So, when are you gonna do it? I mean name is a pretty girl, a lot of people fancy her."

If Midorima would be asked, "where would you rather be right now?" He would answer, "Anywhere. As long as it's away from Takao and his loud mouth".

"Come on, Shin-chan. You look like you wanna leave me hanging here." Takao teased, slapping his back. "Shut your mouth, Takao. That's precisely what I want to do." "So mean!"

You find yourself at the mall, 3 days later. You invited the two of them to help you shop for clothes but... "Sorry name- ACHOO" You winced, "Come on... Are you really leaving me with him...?"

"Am I so bad of a company that you don't want to be left alone with me?" Another voice joined from behind you,

You whipped around to see Midorima and if you look closer, you could see the dejected look on his face. Your eyes widened before you waved your free hand around, "No! That's not what I meant... I mean...Takao, he..."

You could hear the point guard grin on the other side of the line, mentally glaring daggers at him. "ILOSTABETTOHIMNOWIHAVETOCONFESSMYFEELINGSTOYOUBUTI'MDELAYINGCUZI'MSCAREDYOUDON'TFEELTHESAME" You spit it all out, squinting your eyes shut as you felt all the heat rush up to your face. Oh, now you've done it. There's no turning back now... Now you know, that Takao planned all of this.

"Fuck you, Takao" You seethed, turning away from Midorima, who was still frozen in place with his face as rosy as Barbie's dreamhouse..

You ended the call as you two stood there awkwardly, your back still facing him whilst he looked at you, trying to contemplate his next move. He pushed his glasses up before he walked up to you, "Change of plans," He announced, making you look up to him. "What do you say about going on a date?" "Midorima, what do you mean?" He looked back at you, a small smile playing on his lips, "I'm asking you out." Your surprised expression turned into your lips upward, "I say, yes."

𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝑲𝑵𝑩 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

#midorima #shintaro midorima #midorima shintaro #midorima fluff #knb midorima #knb x reader #midorima shintaro x reader #midorima shintarou #midorima x reader #midorima scenarios #midorima headcanons #generation of miracles x reader #gom x reader #knb fluff

[ravennaortiz]

Summary: Stormie's(OC) daughter Isabella (OC) has a surprise request for Juice.

Find more of them in Sunshine and Monster Under the Bed.

All Work Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators

Sons Only: @youngadult9016

Want to be added to any of my tag list? Click here

Juice was standing in his kitchen when Isabella padded in wrapped in her pink blanket. He smiled as he watched her put her Unicorn Stuffy in one of the chairs before taking a set in another. It was still surreal to him that Stormie had agreed to move in. His mornings were a lot different now but he wouldn't trade them for anything.

"Morning kiddo" he greeted her as he finished up his coffee before reaching for a bowl. "Want some coco pebbles?"

When Isabella nodded he got to work making her cereal before taking a seat at the table. The two sat in silence for a bit before Isabella spoke.

"Can you take me to school tomorrow?" inquired Isabella as she pushed her empty bowl back some. Fixing her chocolate eyes on Juice with a serious expression.

"Yeah. I can join you and your mom" replied Juice with a smile and shrug. He would just text Clay and let him know he would be in late.

Isabella frowned and shook her head. "No mommy. Just you" she stated as she crossed her arms.

Juice tilted his head unsure how to respond. It wouldn't be weird but he would have to ask Stormie.

"Any reason you don't want your mom to come with us?" asked Juice as he watched Isabella.

"Its dad and doughnut day. No mommies allowed and I want you to be my dad" replied Isabella matter of factly.

Juice felt his heart speed up and he swallowed hard. He felt nervous and unsure how to proceed. It was one thing for Isabella to call him uncle like she did the others but dad would be a new territory. He and Stormie had not exactly had that conversation. He knew Isabella was under the impression she didn't have a dad due to the circumstances of her existence.

Next Morning

Isabella held tightly onto Juices hand as they made their way to the cafeteria. Juice had never felt more out of place in his life. Most of the men around him were at least ten years older than him and dressed up.

Before he could get to in his head Isabella pulled him to a stop in front of an older woman. Her warm smile eased his mind as she knelt in front of Isabella.

"Well who do you have here Isabella?" inquired the woman.

"This is my dad, Miss Rachel." stated Isabella with a big smile.

"Well its nice to meet you. Isabella is such a sweet girl and a joy to have in class. Her mother and you have done a great job." replied Miss Rachel as she stood and shook Juice's hand.

"Nice to meet you. Believe me its all her mom" chuckled Juice as he felt his cheeks heat up.

"Let get our doughnuts" demanded Isabella as she tugged on his hand.

"Well I will let you two get to your breakfast" laughed Miss Rachel before moving on to greet another child and father.

Later that day

"How was it?" inquired Stormie as she greeted the two as they walked in the door. Before Juice could respond Isabella was gushing about the day but he didn't hear anything after her first sentence.

"He was the best daddy! All my friends like him and he was able to win me a new Unicorn stuff animal and we got ice cream on the way home!" exclaimed Isabella as she shook the Unicorn in Stormies face.

#sons of anarchy #juice ortiz #ravennasmasterlist #RaisingGirlsSeries #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic #sons of anarchy juice #imagine juice #juice fanfic #juice fanfiction #juice imagines #juice imagine #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz x oc #juice x oc #soa juice #juice ortiz imagines #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz fic #fanfiction

[blae-kitta]

Zoro 🐯 Process:

Commentary below:

Notes:

One of the first attempts at sculpting the boy; the head was later altered quite a bit and the legs entirely scrapped, and the torso bulked up shaking my shoulders feverishly: we need to properly represent his 110 cm bust and what we have isn't cutting it. Scabbards were made (which survived till the end!) and the original clay swords were made by this point.

New torso and legs give (hallelujah), as well as the loops and holes for the ears (such finicky small work, fuck me) were made. Holes were first made with straight wire and dried before the hoops were gently (and with swearing) inserted through.

Clothes added, also with swearing as the clay dried and stiffened faster then I wanted to and made it hard to get nice folds. Scarf was re-made and smoothed later.

Scabbards added! Immediately drops it and breaks a piece of it off. I've glued multiple bits of the scabbards back on the flimsy bastards. He remained armless for a good while. A Venus on the shelf by my desk...

Because the clay sword (after a good hour of tender focused work) would IMMEDIATELY would break upon the lightest touch, annoying me to no end, one evening was like God I wish I had actual metal to use instead wouldn't that be cool, and then was like OH! I COULD DO THAT! So the metal is actually cut from the tin of a cat food can, straightened and sanded., as seen in photo!

The blades hilted, before placed in capable hands

ARMS! and the sculpting is finished. Onto painting!

First layers of paint on various parts; I generally paint via colours I'm using at the moment (ie, greens in this instance)

More layers laid down. I generally go for shading in rules of three (main colour, lighter, and darker hues) and apply them at different opacity of acrylic. Adjusted the green since I found it too pungent. Once the fur tones were finished I gave him his stripes (cue me searching up loads of photos of tigers and tiger fursonas to see how people have done the stripes. Did you know depending on the area they are from they have different face shapes and stripe patterns? Fascinating stuff)

Finished project! Last layers, and highlights where added, adjusted the eye and fuck-ups re-adjusted. Dropped and had to reglue things. The gold is actual gold leaf I applied using a glue you paint on but that was a bit of a whole mess and took a long time, and doesn't go on very flat on very not-flat surfaces... (Who would have thought...) In the future may instead use gold paints for metallics.

Here's also the link to the post of more photos of him finished!

#one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #op zoro #zoro figure #op figures #hugin scribbles #hugin sculpts #hugin wip #op fanart #one piece #furry art #anthro #furry #tiger zoro #not sure if people find this interesting but i do so. BEHOLD MY PROCESS #i have like zero knowledge on actual sculpting of figures. i just do it and go well. sure that works #should watch some doll making vids or something to pick up better techniques. hm #theres something so clean and nice about the non+painted versions. pure #god when i firsy put down the green i was like. oh this looks SO much like someones unrealistic lime green tiger fursona #muting the tones a bit helped with that. and the stripes #was a bit annoyed with the stripes at first cause i was like oh no thats too realistic but i think it looks good that way #not pictured is me swearing while working on his fucking earrings #theyre brass wire with the caly and holy shit the clay is so finicky when its that small. the length of time it took to do them. #did them like three times separately and then also LOST ONE and then had to also apply the adhesive for the gold foil and the gold foil #never again for something that small. #but at the same time oooo fuck yeah onto the next project. that hopefully WONT take me like 8 fucking months

[jensensfanfic]

hii!

can i request clay jensen x gn!reader with the prompt “i’ve been thinking about you”? like maybe they got into a fight and the reader has been avoiding him until clay decides it’s time for him to talk to them? if you don’t wanna do this, that’s fine :-)

hey! of course i'll write this for you. its a little messy, but i hope you enjoy!

send me some prompts and i'll write a little fic for you

"i'm sorry– i'm really sorry– i... no. shit! i–"

"the fuck are you doin', man?"

"shit! nothing. just- why are you home?"

justin frowns, a smirk on his red and sweaty face. "told you, i only wanted to go for a quick run."

"right." clay walks away from the mirror and into the light of the outhouse. "how was it?"

"fine, but i think i'm more interested in why you were apologising to your reflection." justin snort-laughs at his brother, then answers his own question. "you practising for a certain someone?"

"wait, how the fuck could you know that?"

"you literally haven't stopped talking about it for a whole week."

"shit, man, i'm sorry, it's just... you know how much i care about them, and–" clay plops down onto the edge of his bed, sighing.

"dude, it's fine. just stop talking to yourself in the mirror. just go and say sorry, it's not that difficult."

"how? i don't where to start... or what to say-"

"bro, you're so lucky you have me. just fucking do it. say how you feel, admit that you fucked up. simple."

--

about half an hour later, you receive a text from clay, asking if he could come over and talk. you immediately responded with a 'yes'. clay had been keeping his distance since you had asked for space, and quite frankly, a week was too long and you were starting to miss him. you would rather be mad while keeping him close still.

and also- it was a stupid fight. you both said dumb things that stung in the moment, but you both knew weren't meant to hurt the other.

when he arrives, you barely get a chance to open the door fully before he dives into a long apology speech. you try your best to listen to his rambling, but when he says, "i've been thinking about you", you stop him.

"wait, really?"

"yeah, of course. i haven't been able to stop thinking about you. i've probably been annoying the crap out of justin, asking him how you are, if you're upset, or angry about me-"

"you had justin check up on me?" clay's eyes widen, and then all of a sudden you're wrapping your arms around him. you hear his sharp intake of breath as he stumbles a little before circling his own arms around your waist. "you are such a dork."

"does this hug mean you forgive me?"

"yes." you pull back. "and i'm sorry, too. i've missed you, jensen."

taglist: let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist for clay and/or justin fics!

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

#my writing #millerswritings #millerswritings/justinsjensen #clay jensen x reader #clay jensen imagine #clay jensen fanfic #clay jensen

[shamera]

NaNo day 12

continued from here, I guess?

I guess this time loop fic will have chapters, lol here is the beach episode, part 1

“Repeat?” Fang Duobing asked, the young man still blinking sleep from his eyes at breakfast. 

“Yes,” Di Feisheng responded easily, drinking his tea easily as he allowed Hulijing to climb onto the bench next to him and curl up next to him, resting a hand on the warm furred back. 

“That sounds—”

“Implausible?” Di Feisheng completed Li Lianhua’s statement, and then added, “Sounds like I ate something wrong the previous night, or had a strange dream? Didn’t get enough sleep?”

Li Lianhua only raised an eyebrow at him, unperturbed. He was always unperturbed about this conversation, arms folded neatly into his sleeves on his lap after pouring the tea, the very same manner he held every morning— perhaps even before this loop started. He couldn’t remember a difference from before and after the day started repeating. 

Di Feisheng wasn’t entirely sure how long he lived this single day, but it must not have been very long with the way Wuyan continued to cross out only small sections of the map he brought. 

Li Lianhua and Fang Duobing both humoured him, and the days were different enough whenever Di Feisheng tested another move or suggestion. He was content for this to continue until he found the Styx Flower. 

But for this day… 

“Let’s head south,” Di Feisheng suggested. “Away from the village. Perhaps the loop will end.”

Li Lianhua gave him a long look, but then shrugged. “It would be nice to spend a day not worrying about anything. Did you have a destination in mind?”

“No. Just south for a day.”

— 

“Just east for a day.”

— 

“Just north for a day.”

— 

That morning, Di Feisheng deposited a pile of rolled scallion pancakes and a pot of warm congee, to Fang Duobing’s absolute glee and Li Lianhua’s confused glances. 

“What’s the occasion?” Fang Duobing asked right before he grabbed at a scallion pancake and then readjusted his grip as it proved hotter than he imagined, blowing on it gently a few times before handing it over to Li Lianhua, who gave him a bemused smile as Fang Duobing then went to grab two more pancakes and repeat the same process as the food scalded his hands. 

Li Lianhua set his food down on the plate and scooped congee into three bowls, distributing it between the three of them. The clink of clay pottery against the uneven wooden surface of the table must have been comfortable even before the loops began, but now it was familiar in a way that settled his nerves. Di Feisheng couldn’t remember the last stretch of time where his days were so repetitive in motion, except for his seclusion where the days passed entirely without his notice. 

This theory about the continuing and repeating days being tied to the area they were in didn’t pan out, but that didn’t mean he exhausted his options yet. 

“Let’s delay the investigation a day,” He said, watching as the others began eating. “There’s somewhere I want to visit.”

“Close to here?” Fang Duobing asked with his mouth full, sounding doubtful. 

“Close enough.” Di Feisheng confirmed, refilling the tea for them.

It was hours later, the sun already high in the sky, when Lotus Tower came to a stop along the sandy roads next to a tiny fishing town. Di Feisheng had seen this place on the maps for days, but had no reason to visit a location where only a smattering of poor wooden houses were, the shore lined with a handful of wooden fishing boats. 

“We should stop here for the day,” Di Feisheng decided, the nonchalance in his tone attracting Li Lianhua’s suspicions once more. 

“And what are you up to this time, Lao Di?” The other asked him, hands tucked into his sleeves as they surveyed their surroundings. It was a clear and beautiful day, and the call of gulls above them was as loud as the strong winds, the cool air just a touch too chilled to entertain the idea of going out into the water. 

“This is definitely not close,” Fang Duobing grumbled, rubbing his hands from where he had been handling the horse reins the past hour. Hulijing was circling the young man’s legs happily, tail wagging and tongue out at the new adventure. “Where are we, anyway? Why are we here?”

The dog sneezed, and then trotted off toward the water, ignoring the rest of them. 

“Hulijing!” Fang Duobing called out, already chasing after her. “Don’t just go off by yourself! What if there are crabs? You’re going to get pinched!”

It wasn’t quite the coast, but the inlet of a large lake, with the winds creating waves on the water that lapped gently onto the sandy beach. Li Lianhua squinted against the sunlight and then turned to say, “This is certainly unlike you.”

“Is it?” Di Feisheng asked, and set out on a sedate walk after both Fang Duobing and the dog, knowing that Li Lianhua would follow. “What do you think this is, then?”

Li Lianhua made a considering noise, keeping pace with Di Feisheng. He picked at a random leaf as they passed the dwindling shrubbery along the shore, stepping out onto the sand. “...An intervention? I can’t imagine what for. We spent a week travelling in the rain, I would think you’re sick of seeing water at this point.”

Di Feisheng almost forgot about the previous rains. For him, the sunshine of ‘today’ stretched along his memory. 

“You’re incorrect.” Di Feisheng told him with a half smile. 

“Oh? I don’t recall expressing a solid theory. You’re very quick to say I’m wrong.”

Ahead of them, Hulijing had already run into the shallow waters, slashing along the shore, jumping from one wave to another and barking happily. Fang Duobing nearly tripped over himself to stop in time before he got splashed as well. 

“You are.” Di Feisheng confirmed, more than a little smug. “Whatever reason you think we stopped here for, you’re wrong. I guarantee it.”

Li Lianhua raised an eyebrow. “No confidence in me? I’m hurt.”

“Tell me a secret,” Di Feisheng urged, “And I will tell you exactly why we’re here.”

Li Lianhua huffed, and tossed the leaf between his hands, turning his attention over to Fang Duobing and Hulijing instead. “This again? A-Fei, you already know everything about yourself. I don’t have any secrets that you don’t already know about.”

By this point, Di Feisheng knew that he could easily convince Fang Duobing something strange was going on with the fortune sticks, yet each iteration of the day remained the same in that Li Lianhua never fully believed unless Di Feisheng managed to predict every event in the day. He was always quick to accept Di Feisheng’s words, but never truly believed them. 

“I never said a secret about me.” Di Feisheng turned to face him fully. “A secret about you. Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“So you can use it against me? No, thanks.”

“So there is information I can use against you?”

Li Lianhua made a face, but didn’t deny it. He instead cupped his mouth and called out to Fang Duobing, “Don’t fall into the water! If you get sick, I won’t be the one cleaning up after you!”

At the water’s edge, Hulijing shook off water all over Fang Duobing, who protested, “I’m not the one who gets sick easily!”

Ironic coming from someone with a name like that, Di Feisheng mused as he folded his arms and watched Li Lianhua grouse half-heartedly at that response. After watching their antics for another second, Di Feisheng looked up to judge the time they had left that day. 

“Come on,” he told Li Lianhua, “let’s go find a boat.”

— 

It was easy to find a family too busy that day to be out on the water, and Di Feisheng handed the silver over in exchange for their boat and equipment for the day before slinging the bag over a shoulder and handing the poles to Li Lianhua and Fang Duobing, who tagged along curiously while flapping at his damp sleeves. 

“Is this a dream? It must be a dream.” Fang Duobing commented, staring vacantly at the fishing pole and not moving even as Di Feisheng urged them forward. “Is this a nightmare? Is something really bad going to happen now?”

Li Lianhua pinched him, and Fang Duobing jerked away with a betrayed look. “Good now? What are you talking about? Why would we be in your nightmares?”

“That’s what I want to know as well.” Fang Duobing lamented. 

“The wind might blow us all the way to the other side,” Li Lianhua said to Di Feisheng. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“No,” Di Feisheng admitted, nudging a foot to kick at Fang Duobing’s shin until the young man started to move again. It was mere steps toward the edge of the lake shore where the small boat, barely able to comfortably fit the three of them, was dragged halfway on land. “If that happens, we can walk back.”

“Do you even know how to fish?” Fang Duobing asked Di Feisheng, tone suspicious. 

“Do you?”

Hulijing jumped into the boat after them, sniffing around the wood and the abandoned netting at the front before raising its head and making loud snuffling noises of disapproval. With the dog there, there definitely wasn’t enough room for three people to stretch out their legs. Fang Duobing, however, brightened at the dog joining them and clucked his tongue in an attempt to tempt it to sit next to him. 

Di Feisheng pushed the boat out the rest of the way into the water and hopped in as well, rocking the boat down heavily enough that the dog scrambled a bit for purchase. They were immediately pushed further into the waters by the low lapping waves, the motion rocking back and forth heavily for a while before it stabilised slightly. 

“I know how to do this,” Fang Duobing said as he stared into the bag of supplies, openly fascinated. He had the fishing pole braced against him like he normally would his sword, and pulled out a pouch of bait. “But I have to admit, this young master has never done this before.”

Li Lianhua snickered, and stole the bait from him. “Oh? I would never have guessed.”

Fang Duobing flushed. “I never had the chance!”

“You have the chance today.” Di Feisheng said evenly, leaning in to peer into the bait bag as Li Lianhua opened it, ignoring the fact that Fang Duobing was doing the same on the other side. Inside were various fruits and insects, the smell such that Fang Duobing immediately recoiled away with a hand going up to cover his nose. 

“Not bad,” Li Lianhua said. “That’s if there’s anything good in this lake.”

“Why have fishermen living here otherwise?” Di Feisheng pointed out. Then he eyed his own pole a second, thumb pressing down on the thin and unevenly carved wood, and added, “How about a wager?”

Fang Duobing perked up. “A wager?”

“Person with the least catches makes dinner,” Di Feisheng said casually, already unspooling the line to tie to the pole. The other two were giving him wide-eyed looks, and Di Feisheng raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

“You don’t cook.” Li Lianhua pointed out to him. 

“I’ll buy something.” Di Feisheng said. 

Fang Duobing’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward until he was shoving up against Li Lianhua’s shoulder to point at Di Feisheng. “I want braised pork. Stewed lamb! Chicken with—”

“Make that yourself.” Di Feisheng told him. 

“You said you’d buy dinner!”

“If I lose.” His voice was smug. “This is not my first time catching fish.”

As they argued, Li Lianhua was calmly choosing his bait, pushing a curious Hulijing’s snout away from the bag from time to time, and already preparing his line. His movement was careful and measured even with the rocking of the boat and with Fang Duobing pushing up against his side in efforts to reach and claw and Di Feisheng, the other man only smirking smugly as he leaned away. 

“I don’t remember the last time I fished,” Li Lianhua murmured amongst their argument. He frowned at the line, thinner than he remembered. Hulijing nosed at his hands as he investigated, and he petted her flank absentmindedly. “I’m much better with traps.”

“Fine!” Fang Duobing all but shouted at Di Feisheng, jerking a thumb to gesture at himself. “This young master will cook dinner for the week if I lose, but you’ll see! I won’t lose! In return, you have to buy everything I listed if you lose! And I eat a lot!”

Di Feisheng didn’t bother to respond, instead letting the silence fluster Fang Duobing more. 

“I am not,” Fang Duobing repeated with an expression that was more pout than frown, “going to lose!”

— 

Nearly a whole sichen later, Di Feisheng was starting to regret the wager. 

“No, no,” Fang Duobing was saying, arms around Hulijing since his fishing pole had been tied to the side of the boat. “That definitely counts. That’s a catch!”

“It counts,” Di Feisheng agreed quickly. 

Li Lianhua was staring at the snag of weeds he reeled in, frowning. The deep line between his brows betrayed his genuine upset, although his posture was still relaxed— far more relaxed than both Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing, who each caught two fish (Di Feisheng’s being much larger) before they realised that Li Lianhua had yet to catch a single one. 

“Look at it,” Fang Duobing was saying with round, panicked eyes. “How many is that? Three clumps now? That counts as three! We can dry it and use it for seasoning later.”

“This isn’t the ocean,” Li Lianhua pointed out. He flicked the clump of weeds back into the water despite Fang Duobing’s protests. “You can’t eat that, Xiaobao.”

“I could try,” Fang Duobing insisted weakly. 

Li Lianhua sighed, looking slightly aggrieved as he checked their surroundings. They managed to drift a good distance into the large lake, and the shore looked far away. The sky was calm, and the winds dissipated to a mild breeze to help keep them cool under the sunlight. It really was a perfect day for fishing. There were a few other boats out as well, although they were larger and far away, and looked to be pulling in entire nets. 

“It’s fine,” he said, “I already had plans for a new recipe tonight.”

“You can have my catch,” Di Feisheng offered generously. “It can count as yours.”

“Mine, too,” Fang Duobing quickly offered on the other side. “We’ll just start over—”

“That’s cheating,” Li Lianhua said, although there was a subtle upward curve to his lips. “There’s only three of us, and we all know the count. But I will take the fish to cook for tonight.”

Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing exchanged a look, and came to an agreement. 

“Well,” Fang Duobing said awkwardly. “Who says this contest is over? We still have time.”

— 

They stayed out on the water until the sun was ready to set, until they all shifted in the tiny space to find the most comfortable spot, until Li Lianhua’s back was pressed flush against Di Feisheng’s, a line of warmth in the slowly cooling air. The boat was small and too narrow to comfortably sit two next to each other for an extended amount of time, but sharing a seat was still doable if each was facing the opposite direction. 

Fang Duobing, who had been attempting to give entirely nonsensical directions in an effort to help Li Lianhua catch more fish, finally gave up and was dozing lightly with a cloth covering his head for shade, sprawled at the front of the boat among the netting with his arms crossed, and his legs sprawled askew over Li Lianhua’s lap. Hulijing was curled up underneath the seats, also dozing. 

While Li Lianhua was still holding onto his fishing pole, Di Feisheng had done the same as Fang Duobing and tied his pole to the edge of the boat, undisturbed unless there was a bite on the line. He had his eyes closed and hands atop his knees, breathing evenly in a semi-meditative state, curiously relaxed despite the open environment. 

“How did you learn how to fish?” Li Lianhua asked softly in the stillness of the sunset. 

Di Feisheng breathed out, taking his eye and not bothering to open his eyes as he responded, “I haven’t before like this. Catching them with my hands was more effective back then.”

He could feel Li Lianhua’s slightest movement against his back, as the other asked, “...Back then?”

Di Feisheng wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it. But he was calm, calmer than if anyone else dared to ask. “Before Jinyuan Alliance.”

It was several ke before Li Lianhua spoke again. “...When I was younger, I thought about being a weaponsmith. I tried, a few times. Swords were so beautiful to me that I wanted to make something that beautiful myself. But I was never any good at it.”

“...so you gave up?”

He could feel Li Lianhua shrug. “I also liked martial arts, and that I was good at. It made sense. It was a passing fancy. I never had the patience for the forge. Just the fascination.”

Di Feisheng thought about them sitting there, on a cramped boat, with Li Lianhua calmly and patiently waiting for a catch that would never bite, and not once expressing any upset over it. Not even when Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng were both also there, both inexperienced in the craft and surpassing him in their first try. 

He thought Li Lianhua might have made more use of the time if he were the one stuck the the repeat of days, and perhaps he could use that time to relearn how to forge. Within the repeats, Di Feisheng was calm. He knew how the day would end, how it would begin again, and the repetition eased the constant sense of urgency within him. So long as the day kept repeating, the future was pushed to a comfortable distance. There was no immediate threat, not even bicha. 

Di Feisheng had never felt like this before. 

He wondered, if they managed to get through everything, if he found the Styx flower, if this was how things could feel like. The endless drifting of waves gently splashing against the boat, the rocking motion and the breeze against his face. The line of warmth against his back, shifting slightly whenever Li Lianhua moved to pat at Fang Duobing’s leg. 

This was the information, Di Feisheng understood, that he asked for. 

“After this is all over,” he requested, eyes still closed, “make me one.”

— 

This time, when Di Feisheng woke in Lotus Tower after a day out on the water and an evening under the stars, he felt calm. There was a sense of peace, along with regret, lingering with the taste of wine and charred fish. He recalled Hulijing kicking up sand running around the fire they built by the shore, and sparring with Fang Duobing while Li Lianhua called out corrections on the side, his suggestions more and more ridiculous until Di Feisheng upended him from his seat on a log. 

It was morning now, and Fang Duobing’s elbow was digging into his side. The birds were loud in the forest, and the sun already making its way above the mountains, and… 

Somehow, there was a sense of grief. 

#NaNoWriMo #mlc nano 2023 #it's always a day behind because it's what i wrote before i posted

[myspineisthebassline]

can i ask how did you make the bo wyatt doll it's so pretty 😢😢 blessed my eyes

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! makes me happy that he makes you happy <:D i don't know how much detail you want me to go into so I wrote an entire novel srry 

Actually first I will direct u to the agosia arts YouTube channel because i love her and I used her tutorials on how to make limbs with clay parts and attach button joints > 

Clay doll playlist

Basic doll technique playlist

Video on sewing the cloth body

Video on attaching clay components 

Video on button joints

I made some adjustments to her techniques just to suit my own needs better. Also, the fabric and buttons I used are a lot cheaper than what she uses and I used oven bake polymer clay to sculpt the helmet, hands, and boots. More on agosia later

I started out by sculpting all the clay components - gloves, boots, and the diving helmet. this is a very "draw the rest of the fucking owl" moment but I cannot tell u my process w sculpting just please don't buy sculpey III that shit SUCKS to work with

After sculpting and baking the clay parts, I sanded them down and painted them. I also gave the boots and helmet a couple or layers of folkart gloss varnish bc Shiny (i am not sponsored by folkart)

I then made a fabric pattern around the clay parts i just sculpted. I went through a lot of drafts changing the proportions of the body, length of the arms and legs etc. i laid all of my pieces out together and moved stuff around until it felt proportional.

I traced the patterns onto two pieces of fabric, right sides together. the fabric for the body comes from an old t-shirt of mine. the fabric was very stretchy and it was a pain to try and draw a pattern onto it 8|

AS FOR CUTTING OUT THE FABRIC...I did what agosia did and sewed directly onto the lines, leaving open spaces at one end and one side of the pattern so the clay hand/boot/helmet what have you can be slipped in between the fabric. Keep in mind the size of these spaces so u can actually get stuff in there 

anyway agosias demonstrations are great so I won't say much else about how to attach limbs, I will stress that when sculpting the clay parts, they should have a groove around them that is deep enough for the wire to sit snugly. ur basically sandwiching the fabric inbetween the wire and the clay. I also hollowed out the boots and helmet so the end of the wire has a place to hide so it doesn't poke out of the fabric. As a side note, if you don't have armature wire or something similar u could probably use pipe cleaners, yarn or a strong thread to do this. or maybe a really strong glue

Mr. bo wyatt doll does have an armature wire skeleton so he's kind of posable. You don't really need to do that, but you can use pipe cleaners/chenille stems if you want the doll to have a little bit of structure.

Here's a little diagram of how I made the wire skeleton (bc I did not take pictures at this step) the wire in each of the limbs and body are pretty much free floating which affects the integrity a lil bit

(this diagram is. Bad. so let me know if something needs to be explained a bit more)

(incoming jumpscare of bo without the shawl) After the clay parts were attached to the fabric limbs I stuffed them by wrapping scrap yarn around the armature wire skeleton and then sewed them closed. This Is Where The Fun of This Project Starts.

Playing a game of where I want to sew the limbs onto the body (and then realizing I made one of the legs way too short. How in the fuck)

i ended up redoing the legs entirely and just added another 1/2 inch to the length of the leg pattern.

Bo has weird proportions I don't want to think too hard about but here's what he looks w/ all his limbs pinned in place

 he is so top heavy help him.

I attached the arms and legs to the body with button joints (insert agosia arts tutorial on that). It was a pain in the ass bc I dont have a needle that's both thin enough to go through the button holes and long enough to go through both ends of the dolls body. But at least the picture for this step is kind of funny. 

the state of my goddamn desk

Also u don't really need to do button joints its just another thing that gives the doll more flexibility. Just sew those thangs (arms and legs) on there (the body)

Ok now onto making the shawl yaaay. Yaaaaay. I looked up some tutorials on how to sew a poncho from fleece, this one was helpful to me. I did not measure the circumference of the helmet bc that would have ended up with a neck hole that is way too big, but I did measure the circumference of the base of the neck and used that. And also sewed a button to the back of the shawl so it would be easier to put the shawl on the body. 

I also did not feel the need to add a hood, but I did line the shawl with a blanket stitch w red yarn. I may add tassels onto it eventually bc it is the cutest thing in bo's design. To Me. Also I will mention that bo's shawl is still a work in progress, it came out waaay too wide so I have it pinned back until I have the time to make adjustments 8| 

Going off of the video I linked before, for the wingspan measurement, I just measured where I wanted the shawl to rest on the body and multiplied that by 2. Looking at bo's official art, his shawl reaches down to about his wrists ish??? Measuring this on the doll, I got 6in, multiplied by x 2 = 12in. But again it ends up w a shawl that is way too wide for the body. So u may want to go shorter than what you think you'll need

also I crocheted a little collar for the shawl... that I have yet to sew onto the shawl. this is an ~~artistic choice~~ bc i just like to draw bo with a knit collar. I like that you draw his shawl with a button up collar I think it would be very cute on a doll.

Ok that took me 50000000 years thank u if you read this far I hope to God this is coherent, helpful or somewhat interesting to read. Now look at him

#basofy #ThANK YOU AGAIN...I saw that you made a lisa doll and I love her sm the flower trim on the dress is an inspired choice #if you have any specific questions lmk this is a very disorganized post #main tag does not get spared from my shenanigans > #lisa rpg #irvart #sidenote i hate the tumblr post editor why is this so broken

[rottmntsimp]

can you do donnie x reader who frequently makes him hand-made gifts? Like jackets, crocheted hats, baked treats, paintings, etc.

Handicraft

Pairing(s): Donnie x Gift Giver!Reader A/N: See how I got this request done the day it was requested, since I chose to write it as headcanons, but I'm struggling to post the oneshot that's been in the drafts for a month 💀 Anyways, I think it's pretty clear I love talking about love languages NDKJSDKS

Donnie

💜 - Oh boy, am I gonna have fun with this one >:] (FYI I'm gonna dig into Donnie's love languages a bit)

💜 - OK so, as you might know, gift giving is one of the 5 main love languages, alongside many other minor ones

💜 - And I think we can all collectively agree, that gift giving is definitely Donnie's number one love language

💜 - He struggles with verbally showing appreciation [words of affirmation] and sometimes has difficulties with physical contact [physical touch]

💜 - So, my boy's gonna have to find another way to show his affection

💜 - And in comes the gift giving <3

💜 - Ok ok, onto you!

💜 - In my opinion, his reaction, well more specifically his thought process, might vary depending on how deep into the relationship you start making him things

💜 - Early on? Well, he'll gladly take them, maybe even just store it away somewhere safe if its something more long lasting, like idk a bracelet

💜 - Might be shy about wearing it in public

💜 - Ok well maybe not shy, more like embarrassed...of his brothers' teasing-

💜 - But if you're further along the line, then hell yeah

💜 - He'd wear any clothing and/or accessories you made with pride (as long as they're the right materials and don't get in his way or irritate his skin in anyway)

💜 - He don't care what his brothers have to say, cuz at this point, he's used to it

💜 - Can and will show off your stuff to the others

💜 - If you ever draw him anything or make him like a little clay figurine or something

💜 - You bet it's going straight to the shelf. Which one you ask? Well, only the one with the limited edition Jupiter Jim action figure, of course-

💜 - He makes sure it somewhere up high enough to not be damaged incase one of his inventions go haywire, but close enough so that if he's ever feeling down or unmotivated, he can just take a quick peek at it and BOOM- he's back, baby!

💜 - If you're the artsy kind, and you like to make stickers, oh lord-

💜 - If y'all have been together for a while, then he's probably going to let you stick a few here and there on bridge of his goggles, and maybe the little thing on his battle shell where it's on his shoulders? Straps? Idk man-

💜 - Now if you're the kind who likes to bake and/or cook, things get a little trickier

💜 - If it's something that suits his palette, then hell yeah, he might munch on it sometime outside the lab (No eating in labs kids)

💜 - But if it doesn't, don't worry these aren't going to waste

💜 - He'll give them to his brothers, Splinter, or even April if she's around

💜 - He'll make sure to stress that fact that he still appreciates it. I mean, you two could be in his lab, and he might be like, "I appreciate the cookies, by the way. I'll make sure my brothers send their regards after they've finished shoveling the remains into their mouths-"

💜 - And later, you two could be gaming together, and he might just pipe up and be like "Oh yeah, I appreciate you taking time out of your day to bake something for my brothers and I-"

💜 - Oh and expect him to make some stuff for you too

💜 - Gadgets, fidget toys, you name it

💜 - If it's tech, it's yours, love

💜 - By y'all's one year anniversary, expect to have a drawer, if not, a full set of shelves, filled with all the things he's given/made for you

💜 - I mean, you didn't expect him to not reciprocate, no? <3

--

Taglist! (DM, ask, comment, or ask in tags if you wanna be added!!)

@lemme-be-cringe-damnit @sleepytime-fics @ray-of-midnight-storm @hamthepan @charismakat

#simps fics #rottmnt x reader #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #2018 donnie x reader

[nnfrerking]

The Rock Painting 

The knowledge that I gained from my first meeting with the artist Cecilia Smith gave me the chance to do something incredibly effective yet equally dangerous. Considering Ms. Smith's standing, I am certain that this gift will bring me the artistic success I am so desperate for. Yet, if I do something incorrectly, I could bring about the destruction of myself and thousands if not millions of others. 

As the months wear on, I find that my desperation has been growing far stronger than my fear or guilt. I have been passively gathering all the pieces for the ritual whenever and wherever I happen to find them. Every time I find another ritual ingredient, I remember the day when I was partially awakened to the truth about everything.  

I was in my sophomore year when I met Cecelia Smith. She was going to give a lecture at the art museum a few blocks away from my college. I probably would have gone to the event anyway, but Mr. Boone, my art professor, made it even more tempting. He said he would give extra credit to anyone in the class that attended the event. 

Mr. Boone's reasons for creating the event were not purely academic, as he would later admit to us. He and Cecelia had been friends ever since college. He wanted to lend her some friendly support. 

Eventually, the day and time of the event arrived. Unfortunately, regret flooded my body the instant I stepped into that museum. It was immediately clear to me that most of the people in attendance were wealthy patrons of the museum and/or collectors of fine art. 

Though I am a tall woman, I felt as though these people towered over me. Each dress or suit they wore had to cost at least twice my monthly rent. Likely, they had also spent more than my monthly salary to get their hair and/or makeup done. In comparison, I had spent ten dollars at the thrift store to buy the dress I was currently wearing and had fixed up my hair and makeup by using discount store products and video tutorials. 

I was so certain that this mere mortal could not be safe standing within one hundred feet of these gods and goddesses, let alone five feet. My mind soon flooded with a daymare about them simultaneously turning to look at me and walking over until they surrounded me and then mocking and laughing at my lowly appearance and then throwing the drinks and appetizers they were holding at me and then picking me up and throwing me out onto the street. 

This imaginary situation repeated itself and eventually caused my body to break out in shivers. Yet, I managed to fight against the compulsion I had to rush out of those museum doors at once. My desire to see Cecelia Smith's paintings, which an online article I read had called "signs of the beginning of a new age of art", was far stronger than any of my fears. 

My shaking body was hard to control, but I didn't let that stop me from easing myself around the rich people's conversation circles and towards the hallway just beyond the reception desk. New daymares spawned that depicted a few of them turning from their cheerful chatter and telling me how ugly I looked. Others portrayed me bumping into a rich person and causing him or her to spill their food or drink on their expensive clothing and then they would grab me and shake me violently, demanding amounts of money that I couldn't even dream of affording. 

Things got worse as I entered the hallway. It was rather narrow and that made many of the conversation circles seem huge. The new daymares became more dramatic as they repeated. I imagined a few of my rich victim's friends shaking me, surrounding me, and ripping off pieces of my dress and clumps of my hair. 

I took deep breaths through my nose and diverted my thoughts by theorizing how paintings that were "signs of the beginning of a new age of art" would look. Perhaps she had added clay to a canvas to make pieces of art that were both a sculpture and a painting. Or maybe she had layered different-sized canvases on top of each other to create a kind of 3D effect. However, as creative as I got, even a person five times more creative than myself could never imagine what Cecelia Smith's paintings would truly be like. 

Finally, I exited the hallway and entered the gallery which was, much to my relief, far more spacious than the hallway had been. There were also far fewer people here, and the individuals that were here did not appear rich. They had gathered around in small groups around paintings and chattering in voices so hushed that they may have thought loudness could cause the paintings' color to fade. 

I took some deep breaths and performed mindfulness exercises until my body stopped shaking. Then I hesitantly approached one of the currently solitary paintings but looked away from it as I walked. In truth, I felt afraid that the paintings wouldn't live up to the expectations that I had built up in my mind. I desperately wanted them to make the stress of walking through all those rich strangers worth it. 

When there was a certain distance between me and the painting, I stopped and waited until I felt ready to see anything in that frame. But then I realized that I would probably never be ready. So I looked up at it and felt immediately confused as the painting seemed to depict the surface of an ordinary rock. 

Sure, there was enough high-quality detail that I could see every bump, valley, and scratch along the surface of the rock, but this couldn't be something worthy of that 'new age of art' quote. Feeling like I was about to drown in disappointment, I forcefully leaned in closer until my nose was a few inches from the painting and tried to take in every little detail. As I look back, I think I wanted to do this not just because I needed there to be something I was missing. I also wanted to flee this museum and its scary inhabitants and bury myself in the colors, strokes, and lines.

It turned out that I would escape the museum in another way. After a mere three seconds of staring at the painting this way, my senses started picking up things that couldn't have been there. If they were, then I would have been impossibly transported to a pine forest within the space of a few seconds. 

My ears were picking up the near and distant sounds of animals and the wind rustling through the trees. I could feel this same wind giving me cold kisses on the cheek as well as the muddy ground below my feet. There was also the mud and a previous rainstorm, the smell of which filled my nostrils. The only sense that wasn't picking up the forest was my sight. My eyes were still focused on the surface of that rock. 

My response to these sensations was delayed, but when my mind eventually picked up what was happening, I shut my eyes and let out a loud gasp. Luckily I managed to muffle it with my hand and avoided bringing unwanted attention to myself. 

As soon as I warded off the shock, I realized that in closing my eyes I had transported my other senses back to the museum. I heard that quiet chatter of voices and the clacking of someone's high heels as they walked across the floor. I felt the warmth that the museum's HVAC system was blowing into the room. The smell of someone's flowery perfume and the lemony freshness of the museum cleaning staff's supplies also surrounded me. 

I took in these sensations until I found the courage to open my eyes again. I was back in that forest. I closed my eyes again, and I found myself back in the museum. I had to open and close my eyes a few more times to try and convince myself that my senses were experiencing what they were experiencing. 

Even after that, I still had trouble convincing myself that the whole situation was real. Some of the facts just didn't add up. Yes, this type of effect did live up to the description that the article had given it, but why wasn't there more? The discovery of a revolutionary effect like this should've caused a pervasive media sensation. 

And then there were the other people in the gallery. Why weren't they more excited? They should've been smiling, giggling, and/or even shaking with delight at the new sensations. Even if they had experienced such sensations before, they should have still been jabbering loudly with each other and trying to figure out how the whole thing worked. 

How DID it work? What in the world could be the mechanism that caused such a sensation? I theorized that maybe the arrangement of the markings on the rock paintings had created some hypnotic effect. Or maybe there was some kind of beam in the frame of the painting that could transmit these sensory images right into my mind. 

Unfortunately, that last guess turned my thoughts into ones of extreme paranoia. If there was a beam that could do that, what else could it do? Could they tell people what to think or erase their memories? Were such beams now hidden in different areas and being used to control the populace? Perhaps, if there was a beam in the frame of this painting, it had already transmitted thoughts that weren't my own into my mind. I shivered at the thought as I moved my eyes over the frame of the painting but failed to spot any noticeable holes.

I glanced over at the other paintings and the walls, trying to see if I could spot any of these strange theoretical mechanisms. I couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean they weren't there. Feeling overwhelmed, I decided to walk over to and sit down on a nearby bench I had spotted. Then I put my hands in my lap, closed my eyes, and performed some light meditation to help myself calm down. 

Once my mind was clear, it pointed out to me that an opportunity may have fallen into my lap. Since I knew Mr. Boone and he knew Cecelia Smith, perhaps he could convince her to give me an apprenticeship. During that, she could teach me how she created those revolutionary paintings and then I could make them myself and be a key part of this new art revolution that the article had predicted was coming. Then I would be just as good if not greater than all of the people here.

What would it be like if I returned to this museum after I had achieved this status? Perhaps they would open a gallery that held my works alone. And then they would have a party at the opening. I wouldn't be dressed in thrift store rags and using discount beauty products then. I would instead have a dress like the one I admired in that discount store which was blue and had thousands of sequins that shimmered like glints of sunshine in water. And I would hire the best hair stylist in the city to tie up part of my hair in a braid that even the greatest basket weavers couldn't achieve. And instead of tiptoeing around all the rich people, I'd be talking straight to them because my success would have given me the confidence that I always wanted. 

But wait, would Cecelia Smith even take me on as an apprentice? I had been struggling with getting good grades in Mr. Boone's class because my artwork had been, as he had written, "too pedestrian" and I needed to "be more confident and experimental" with my artistic ideas. Perhaps Cecelia and Mr. Boone would only stand there laughing at me and saying how terrible I was at art and that it was stupid for me to believe I even had a chance at getting an apprenticeship. And then Cecelia's bodyguards would pick me up and throw me out of the museum. 

Wait…that wasn't right. What sort of visual artist has bodyguards? Yes, the worse that they could do was laugh at me and put me down. But I knew Mr. Boone and while he could be critical he was never outright mean. I didn't know what Cecelia was like, but Mr. Boone probably wouldn't let her be too mean to me. They'd probably just stare at me awkwardly and make some excuse on why Cecelia couldn't take on an apprentice. 

Still, there was the possibility that Cecelia could see something in me that others hadn't. Didn't that make it worth trying, especially because the consequences couldn't be too severe? It seemed that way to me. 

I got up and immediately started walking as fast as I could in the direction of the presentation room, where I suspected Cecelia and Mr. Boone would be. Luckily, the lecture was about to begin, so I could just follow along with the wave of people and avoid bumping into anyone or having to dart around them. For a moment, I felt like I was part of an army marching into battle. This made me smile. 

When I made it to the presentation room, I immediately spotted Mr. Boone and Cecelia Smith on the right side of the theater. I gently made my way through the crowd and called out to Mr. Boone as soon as I got close. This caused him to turn, see me, smile, and wave. In a few moments, I was right next to him. Unfortunately, though, I was so enthusiastic about my plan that I skipped over greeting him and went right over to Cecelia. I said hello to her, introduced myself, stuck out my hand, and looked her in the eyes. 

 

My anxiety flooded back the instant that Cecelia grabbed my hand. That caused me to shake her hand and look her in the eyes for what was, I assume, a longer time than normal. While I was doing this, much to my shock, my senses were spirited away again. 

However, the place this time was different and I could take it in with my eyes as well as with my other senses. I was in a room in a seemingly abandoned house somewhere. I could hear a rainstorm outside, smell a musty odor, and see an old wooden floor on which several seemingly random items had been carefully placed. Hovering above this ritual arrangement was a portal. Looking through it, I could see what I somehow knew was the structure of the universe. Through studying this, I just knew I could learn exactly how the universe worked. Then I could manipulate it to my will and make paintings like the ones Cecelia had made. 

Before I could get a full understanding, however, I ended up fainting clean away and missed the lecture. I felt disappointed, but in retrospect, could Cecelia have given me any knowledge that was better than what I had received? 

Also, I probably wouldn't have paid much attention anyways. My new knowledge hijacked most of my attention for the next few months. I did my best to try and forget it and kept telling myself to not do anything about it. I could tell it was dangerous and I swore that I could forge an artistic career of my own without any shortcuts. 

Yet, it kept coming up in my mind with every bad grade I received and every time I lost inspiration. And no matter how hard I tried, these incidents kept happening. I was soon thinking about what I'd switch my major to and trying to picture a happy future for myself. 

However, all that I could see was me sitting in an office job in a sundown office building with half the lights gone and several dozen missing ceiling tiles. I'd be wearing a dress covered in holes and stains because I couldn't afford any new clothes. I also wouldn't bother with making my hair and makeup extra pretty or try to start up conversations with my coworkers at the water cooler because I'd be so depressed. 

So you see, I have to gather the ritual items, open the portal, and study the structure of the universe enough to understand how to make the painting, no matter how dangerous it is.  I've been trying to hold back the temptation for as long as I can, but I don't think I will last much longer. I am truly sorry. 

#creepypasta #horror #horror short #short story #painting #horror story #rocks #cosmic horror #social horror #story writing #horror genre #horror art #social anxiety #scary #scary stories #scary stuff #scary story #paranormal #supernatural #lovecraftian #lovecraft

[undergroundoffline]

Batman arkham city clayface

Karlo chose poorly and attempted to break into the warehouse where the police were holding his stolen stash of Renu. While in the hospital, Karlo was visited by Batman, who told him he had a choice to make in who he wanted to be. His career was ruined, and his girlfriend Glory dumped him. Brought to the hospital to recover, Karlo's grotesque appearance was subsequently revealed to the world in news reports of the incident. When his supply began to run low, Karlo intended to steal a bulk supply of the chemical from the manufacturing plant in Gotham City, only to be apprehended by Batman. In a desperate bid to salvage his career, he began abusing Renu to preserve his handsome appearance. The shock of this news caused Basil to crash his car, disfiguring him. When he was driving back to his apartment, Basil received a phone call informing him that his father had been found dead. He soon had an interview with the casting director of a Second Skin, and received the main part. After Metamorphosis, Glory became Basil's personal assistant for all his films. When the film was complete, Basil received huge critical acclaim and planned to move onto a film called Second Skin, as it reminded him of his father's old job. On the set of his film Metamorphosis he met Glory Griffin who would be his P.A. He quickly became incredibly successful due to his talent and good looks. Vincent was eventually fired by his production company because they discovered that Renu was toxic to human flesh and could potentially cause illnesses.īasil grew up and became an actor twenty years later. Vincent told Basil that the secret to his success was a strange putty known as Renu, when applied to a surface Renu would allow the sculptor to mold that material into any look they wanted. īasil Karlo was the son of Vincent Karlo, who made cosmetics and masks for movies. As a result of the change, Clayface's origin was now mostly different. This merged Clayface with the pre-flashpoint version of himself, eradicating or changing a lot of his history. Because of this the very fabric of reality was altered as the two universe's histories began to merge into one. New Originĭuring a battle with Mister Mxyzptlk, the Superman of the pre-flashpoint universe merged his timeline and the post-flashpoint universe's timeline together. With no one willing to hire him and thus becoming a "nobody," Karlo became fully committed to a life of crime as "Clayface". Before long, Karlo's temper destroyed his career after he assaulted a director who berated him for ad-libbing on set. The actor lost sight of who he really was until he became nothing more than a mass of violence and rage it became harder to hold his human shape. However, he eventually grew to embrace it overtime.

Outside of his acting, Karlo was employed by The Penguin, keeping to their deal, and initially loathed the criminal activities he was forced to do. He gained the new ability to copy the DNA of anyone he touched and file it away in his memory, to be retrieved at any time. As he got better in his acting, the clay inside him evolved as well. With this shape-changing ability, Karlo was able to achieve success in his acting career. Basil agreed and was given unique shape-shifting powers when the clay leapt on him, entered his blood-stream, and rewrote the fabric of his body. The Penguin offered Basil a hunk of mystical clay, which he claimed would solve Karlo's acting problems, in exchange for the actor's services as a henchman. Looking for an edge, Karlo turned to the crime boss Penguin for help. Basil Karlo, before becoming the monster he would be famous for being, worked as a mediocre actor who was once told by his casting director that he wasn't good enough to get a substantial role.

#Batman arkham city clayface

[theinsignias22]

Clay of a Person

Identity Paper by Nicky Angela Solis

As impressionable as I can be, I am easily influenced by almost anything. Something as little as a pebble can easily impact me and merge into my ever-changing temporary temperament. That is, if I can find meaning in it, which I easily can. I am known for always being poetic and romantic yet detached. I find beauty in anything and everything without my rose-colored glasses, but no beauty in this world has ever touched my soul. I have been introduced to different worlds, but none have ever latched onto me like a slug would a log, but only indifference. I do wish to experience the excitement of being a fan of idols and movie series; calmness in doing your hobbies; the sense of fulfillment in doing your passion; and the feeling of romance towards a human being. I do the most by adding value to everything I see, romanticizing the most unromantic things, and giving life to the dead. With this, I became a clay of a person – ever-changing, ever moldable.

I am affectionally named after both of my parents; my Nicky from my father’s nickname; his real name is Dominic, and he is called Nicky in the military; and Angela from my mother; her name is Anelene. I am not fond of my name since my father can never think of another name that doesn’t make people confuse me with my sister (her name is Nicky Anne), and "Angela" is just too religious. My nickname is no different. I was born on the 3rd of December, a day before the feast day of St. Barbara. My aunts and Lolas quickly associated me with her and requested for me to be named Barbie as my legal name. Mom found it a silly name, so a nickname would do. They believed me being born a week late on my official birth date was a sign that my father would be protected at work since St. Barbara is the patron saint of miners and artillerymen, a holy bulletproof vest if you will. In my father’s words, I am his tanging yaman. They said I was a blessing. Ironically, I am the middle child of three and am the most forgotten sibling. I am the yes man to my mother and the sibling who needs to give way to the other. If I do not follow, I am usually the one who gets hurt.

I grew up without the beauty of parental love. My parents were too occupied with work and left us to our yayas. They bathed, fed, and took us to school. I and my sister were never fond of them at first, forcing about half of them to resign after three days, but not without them crying to my mother and accusing us of being the spawn of the devil himself. You can only imagine the anger and frustration of my dear mother every time we send one out the door. Nonetheless, some of them stayed and became our parental figures while my mother works at a hospital as a billing clerk and my dad is assigned somewhere in the country since he is a soldier. I love my yayas, but that love is gone the moment I hear they are leaving for personal reasons. I used to hear it first as they talked to my mother about it – I have a habit of eavesdropping as I easily get curious – and then my sister would know second; she would cry the most. She hates it when people go away. For me, I never understood why I did not cry or feel anything; I just said my goodbyes and waited for the next yaya. There was a time, though, when we stopped having yayas and my mom started to have more off days. I found it weird and uncomfortable that she screams and scolds us for nothing when she’s at home, and the house is not joyful when she’s around. I later found out that my dad was forcing her to quit her job for no other reason than his old and misogynistic view towards a woman having a job and her getting paid more than him. I found this reason dumb since it did not make Dad happy when she was around. Why would he need to see her when he doesn’t like her? She eventually resigned after my brother was diagnosed with non-verbal autism. He frequently fights when he returns home; gambling was his illness, smoking was his addiction, and drinking was his medicine.He is everything I hated in a person and the living example of what I do not want to be or be with, but I used to love him as he was my father, and that is what people told me to do. Our family is not ideal behind closed doors, but it puts up a façade when needed, especially when my sister wins an award. She is the golden child that every parent wishes for – smart, beautiful, and obedient. I was, and still am, expected to follow in her footsteps, but my attention is on other things. She is at the top of her classes, from a science high school, and is currently a scholar at a respectable university in Manila. I can never achieve half of the things she has done; I compensate for it by being a doll to the crowd and being the star in every situation to fool myself that I am just as good as she is (I’m not). I am, in my aunts' and mother's' words, a disappointment and won’t go far—even though the ones who said it only finished high school, were victims of teenage pregnancy, and follow every word their husband says—I still believed them.

The more I feel inferior to my family, the more I crave superiority in other areas. I felt a sense of authority and importance when I was nominated as president in first grade, just because I was nice enough to everyone on the first day of class. I won by a margin of one vote. I was not a good president, considering I was a kid. I cried and screamed and easily got mad at my classmates. Even so, I was elected as President until 3rd grade, became a secretary in 4th, and Vice President in 5th and 6th. This continued until I was in high school. I am currently the Vice President of the School Council of KNCHS. I am known for having an intimidating yet calm demeanor. I can work under pressure and have learned to manage my time throughout the years. Being in the position I am in now has given me the satisfaction of power and attention, and it gives me work that I can use in the future. I used to think that I was running to help the students, but I also have personal reasons. I find my reasons ill-conceived and selfish, but I never used my power to be above the rules. I know my job, and though I do not love it, I will do my duty without complaints.

My view of love has been fickle. I always shift my perspective depending on what is around me. Is it calming or destructive? In a loveless family, it is like waves of everything and nothing. I was called "abnormal" by my classmates since I had no crush on them. I tried to love and had a little crush on a boy, even got into a relationship, but everything I felt was shallow. Attraction is foreign to me, and so is affection. I am curious about what it feels like to be in love, be happy with someone, fight, then forgive, hurt, and heal. I crave it. But it doesn’t come in naturally like I wished it would. I struggled with this. I’m glad that my friends taught me to love without hesitation, as they loved me without hesitation. In gratitude, I wish to do the same to them.

In my teen years, I started to take an interest in religion. My religion, to be exact, is Roman Catholic. As I started to become aware of God and the Bible, I frequented the church more and attended Flores de Mayo. I learned the rosary and became fascinated by how we should recite the Hail Mary in every bead, and the mysteries tell the story of Jesus Christ until his crucifixion and rising from death. I started to adore Mother Mary and how she was chosen to be the mother of Christ. I come to church alone and pray every night. I even went as far as asking for a rosary as a souvenir when a friend visited Iloilo. However, as I learned my religion, the more I hated it, the more I became anxious and angry. At this time, I also started to question my sexual orientation—a sin according to many beliefs. My religion became the reason for discrimination, death, and war. The thought of it makes my stomach churn and my heart heavy. I am shamed by the people in my religion for liking both sexes. I still feel anger and pain towards them. I eventually started to remove myself from Roman Catholicism and explored other religions. I frequently inquired about my Adventist, Muslim, and Jehovah's Witness classmates' practices, and I secretly did so to understand how they felt. I have tried fasting, not eating pork, and reading the pamphlets and letters of Jehovah's Witnesses. I even tried to meditate and learn tarot cards. Every one of those experiences gives me a new perspective on their views, but I cannot survive fasting; I find the pamphlets gibberish; meditation scares me; and their religion is more organized than mine could ever be. This never made me deny the existence of God. I can never shake off the belief that he exists, but is he all good? Is he all-powerful? I am told to not question it, but why? Following blindly is idiotic, naive, and gullible. If he does not want us to question it, why give us this intellect? I never get answers to my questions, only glares and spiteful comments on how I will go to hell. If I do, I don’t care. I choose to be myself. I am not hurting anyone.

Art and literature have had an impact on my life since I can remember; I used to participate in storytelling contests in elementary school; I used to write poems and short stories in my spare time; I radio broadcast; I host; I make speeches; and I draw.I don’t know how it started, but I found it beautiful how different worlds can be formed on pages and canvases at your will. How colors can make life easier and words fuel your imagination. Literature taught me to express myself, especially in times where silence is forced, to question everything, and to write what I know. Literature opened a home with castles of paragraphs for me to enter and explore, an escape from my little destructive world. The world inside a painting is ethereally haunting—how beautiful yet tragic is Ophelia by Sir John Everett; how unsettling is the stare of the man in American Gothic by Grant Wood; and how mundane and isolated is Nighthawks by Edward Hopper. These drive me to draw and create my world and life on pages. The only interest I have that I’m sure I’ll never stop doing

My life has been a life of great curiosity. I wish to answer every question I have. I still have to learn about myself and continue this journey. I will continue to learn everything I am unfamiliar with. I wish to achieve more, and I know I have plenty of time. It has already been established that I am young and will still encounter so much. I have many more blank pages to write on, but the ones that have been written are filled with ink, scribbles, and mistakes. My simple curiosity helped me explore and feel life in my bones. I have learned, felt, cried, and loved, and they will forever change me into who I am today. I will continue to shape myself throughout the years – ever-changing, ever moldable. 

#IdentityPaper #WhoIAm #WhatMadeMe

[ravennaortiz]

Missing

Summary: Chapter 6 of Countdown

As always this is an 18+ only story. This story is AU based and not your typical Sons of Anarchy story. Some readers may find some plot lines and changes to some characters to be problematic please read at your discretion. This story also time jumps heavily so keep this in mind as you read!

Warnings: General themes of the show such as violence, drugs, swearing etc, minor age gap, minor smut in later chapters.

Tag List @fleureeee

"Where the fuck is she Jax?" bellowed Clay as he slammed the other man into the wall of the clubhouse. "I don't know. Like I said when we called she was gone when we got up. She must have slipped out" replied Jax as he rubbed his face with his hands. "You, where does her phone say she is?" snapped Clay as he turned from his step son to Juice. "She left her phone" stated Juice as he tossed a phone on the table. "Goddammit" yelled Clay as he slammed his fist onto the table. Should have killed them both when I killed their dad he thought to himself as he tried to get himself calmed.

Jax and Juice watched Clay closely as he stalked to the door and flung it open to where the rest of the club was sitting. "You lot find my step daughter and bring her to me. Force or no force." he growled before slamming the door back and whipping around on the two men in the room. "If I find out. Either of you or the other four trouble makers had something to do with this. I'll make sure you all have a front row seat to the depraved shit the Aryans have planned for her" he stated firmly as he glared at the two men. Jax and Juice simply nodded before leaving.

***

Juices Room

Juice had been in his room since Jax and him had gotten back from the clubhouse. He lay staring at his ceiling lost in his own thoughts and feelings. A knock drew his attention to his open door. "You good?" asked Half-Sack as he leaned against the door frame casually. Juice shrugged. He honestly had no idea how to answer that. "Jax thinks you'remad at him" stated Half-Sack as he moved into the room and sat in the computer chair.

"I'm not. Just a....stressful day. It was difficult to ....let her .... go through that. To hear ....her scream and just let it happen" replied Juice carefully as he thought back on the morning. Half-Sack nodded as he considered his best friend. "I'm sorry you had to experience that. I cant imagine what it was like." stated Half-Sack. "She wont be gone forever" he added more for himself than Juice. Juice simply nodded before going back to his own thoughts.

***

Mayans Clubhouse

It was early evening by the time the Mayans pulled into the clubhouse lot. Rocky hadn't made a sound or moved since she had been loaded up. Angel spoke as the two Mayans in the front slipped out of the van. "If we undo your hands can you keep them to yourself and promise not to take off until our presidente speaks to you" inquired Angel thoughtfully. Rocky nodded without looking at him. Coco snorted before getting out, muttering good luck as he shut the door.

Once inside Angel led her to another door where Bishop was sitting. "Have a seat" stated Bishop as he gestured to one of the many chairs around the wooden table. Rocky timidly moved to one of the chairs across from the Mayan and sat eyeing both men wearily. "Angel, why dont you check on your brother while I chat with our guest" stated Bishop. Angel simply nodded before stepping out and closing the door.

The two stared at each other for a couple of silent minutes before Bishop spoke. "I suspect you have questions" stated Bishop. Rocky nodded as Bishop continued to speak. "My name is Bishop. I am the Presidente of the Santo Padre Mayans Charter. Which will be your home for an unknown time" he stated giving Rocky a moment to process his words. "Why?" asked Rocky quietly. "I feel this letter will explain better than I can." replied Bishop as he stood and sat a white envelope in front of her. Rocky carefully took it and opened it.

#ravennasmasterlist #sons of anarchy #ravennasoc #soa fanfiction #juice ortiz #mayans mc fanfiction #coco cruz #mayans mc imagine #sons of anarchy fanfic #soa fanfic #jax teller #chibs telford