#it'll be a little 'short' for me but it'll cover the scenes i want before the next one

[nekojitachan]

It had been a shitty week; Andrew barely saw Nathaniel off the court on Friday night, nor did he get to bash Riko’s head with his racquet. Then Pig Higgins showed up on Saturday, entirely unwelcome and unwanted, the bearer of news that only reinforced Andrew’s belief in how shitty the universe was. He had to deal with another round of questions from Aaron and the upperclassmen. Then there were the terse texts from Nathaniel during the week, sparse that they were, which indicated that all was not well at the Nest (as if one couldn’t tell from Riko’s unhinged interviews where he ranted about the Ravens ‘decimating’ the Foxes during their game on Friday).

Andrew had a little to vent during his training session with Val on Sunday; they were out in the backyard, sweatshirts discarded on the porch and tank tops damp with sweat from the intense practice. Val had taken Andrew down twice so far, but he’d landed a killing blow on her once and aimed to do so again before they called it quits.

Val feinted to the left, which Andrew pretended to fall for while preparing for a strike at his ribs. He ‘dropped’ his knife and caught it with his left hand while he blocked her weapon and allowed her to barrel him into the ground, intent on raising his blade to her throat.

They stilled on the ground, Val half-sprawled on top of him with his knife below her chin and hers off to the side, their eyes locked on the other. Then she laughed as she leaned back onto her haunches. “Ha! That was good.” She rocked onto her feet and held out a hand, which Andrew begrudgingly accepted. “You’re becoming an actual challenge now.”

“So happy for you,” Andrew drawled, voice thick with sarcasm.

“Yeah, you’re a real sunbeam like that.”

#nekojitachanfics #nekojitafics #casts a shadow #aftg #andrew minyard #andreil #neil josten #i'm hoping to post the next chapter before the end of the year #it'll be a little 'short' for me but it'll cover the scenes i want before the next one #soooon

[that-fic-girl]

I'VE GOT A SCENARIO, ok so I saw the Monty doing Roxanne with reader being jealous and got a thought. Reader is dating Monty but cheats on reader with Roxanne. They cry to Bonnie for comfort cuz he's sweet bunny but little does the reader know his idea so comfort is something else 👀. Monty catches them and is fumming cuz he knows Bonnie's been pinning for reader the whole time. Bunny boi looking at Monty while pounding reader like whatcha done do? 👀🐇👀

your prayers have been answered my sweet in this, reader calls bonnie thumper as a nickname. I will STAND WITH THAT HEAD CANON UNTIL I DIE.

GLAMROCK BONNIE x READER

tw: NSFW THEMES, cheating, mentions of panties for the feminine ppl, not read over it just finished it off this morning, mentions of vaginal parts

every day was getting more and more exhausting for you. Your pay check is slipping, your sink was leaking and your relationship was fading.

you would find yourself getting upset and just breaking down, the first person at your side would always be bonnie.

he would always hear to what you had to say, he gave great advice and if you need to cry in his embrace, hes happy to be there for you.

"its gonna be okay superstar, I promise" he held you and stroked your hair as you quietly sobbed into his bowling shirt.

"I-its not... hes going to leave me.. I-.. I just don't know what to do"

you knew deep down it was for the better. all monty ever did was insult you and ignore you. NOTHING about him screamed "caring" in any way.

"but... it'll be for the best." you stuttered, wiping your tears from your face.

you patted Bonnies leg and gave him a little smile, indicating it was time for you to finish on your check-ups with the other glamrocks. god how he loves that smile.

before you pulled the door he grabbed your waist from behind and hugged you.

"just one more before you leave, im gonna miss ya'" he said whilst resting his head into the dip of your neck.

"Awww, thumper. c'mere"

the large thump of the elevator hitting the floor woke you up from your thoughts. remembering you have to finish off the last of the glamrock checkups and then your free to roam around for a bit until opening.

your first stop was freddy;

freddy noticed your tear stained face and questioned you about it but after you said it was nothing, he didn't want to push you into telling him. so he stayed quiet until you finished.

"alright! all done. you seem to be operating fine."

you gave the brown bear a smile, closing his stomach hatch.

"I best be on my way now".

and with that, you made your way to Roxy's greenroom but to your surprise, she wasn't there.

"that's strange... maybe she's in her raceway. ill check it later"

you grabbed your tools and headed to your gators greenroom.

you where absolutely terrified, why wouldn't you be? he has a short temper and isn't really fond of you DESPITE you being his significant other.

as you where about to place your fist onto his door, you heard something.

"fuckkk..roxyy"

you heard grunts and several slurs mumbling all coming from monty's room.

you felt dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

without hesitation, you slammed the door open to reveal a heartbreaking scene.

"what. the. fuck" you dropped your bags to the floor and stood in shock.

"ah- shit babe! its not what it looks like!"

monty tried to cover Roxy whilst trying to put his pants back on, knocking over a few objects thrown across his room.

"oh so you weren't just balls fucking deep in Roxy then huh?! do you think im a fucking idiot?!" you frantically waved your arms around, your head raging at the thought of your best friend FUCKING your boyfriend.

"no I-"

"so this is why you where so distant from me. you where screwing around with her!" you cut him off.

monty was silent. he knew you where right and you could see it on his face

Roxanne stood up and moved towards you

"im sorry y/n-"

"I don't want to hear anything from you."

and with that you slammed the door shut, walking back to the elevator you came from. you where too distracted to go check on Chica or the others. you had one destination you where gonna go to and that was it.

you felt your anger slowly melt into sadness and the aching in your chest started to become more apparent. tears started to run down your face.

"shit.."

bonnie was sat on foxy's stage, head in his hands and dying of boredom.

"why didn't I just tell her, kiss her.. or DO ANYTHING! god she's gonna get played by that dick-"

"b-bonnie.."

his head instantly turned.

"o-oh my sweet thing, what happened?"

he quickly ran to your side, putting your head in his hands.

"monty he...he.. I think he grew fonder to Roxanne.."

bonnie gave you a sad look, cupping your cheek in his hand.

"aw darlin'... im sorry you had to see that"

his hands ran down to your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"its going to be alright, love"

you wiped you tears and sat down, putting you head into your hands. Bonnie lifted your face up to meet him, giving you a soft smirk.

"I can treat you better than he ever could, y'know?"

your eyes never left his, getting lost in the sight that was in front of you. you felt your insides bubbling in excitement.

you knew there was always something there between you two but you always thought it was a misunderstanding. but now you realise that hes always been the one there for you, always been the one to keep you company on lonely night shifts, always been the one to understand and listen to you, hes always been the one.

"do you want me to treat you better?" his hands slowly slid up your thighs, rubbing the inside of your legs.

"y-yes..please" you stuttered, you heart was beating so fast. you couldn't actually believe this was happening.

"atta' girl" he said with a soft melodic tone.

NSFW UNDER THE LINEEE

bonnie's hands started to wonder all over you whilst he kissed your neck, touching all of your sensitive parts.

he was a bit hesitant a first but the noises you made encouraged him to feel more.

His hands tugged at the waist line of your pants, eagerly wanting to see the beauty between your legs.

"you sure you want this sweetheart?" he gave you a look of concern, making sure that this was the right moment for you.

"I am positive my little thumper, you're too sweet"

his foot pounded lightly in the floor from the little nickname you gave him. he felt as if he was under your spell, no matter what, all he could think about was you.

he pulled your pants off, revealing the laced panties you wore.

his hand glided over the heat between your legs, feeling your wetness and admiring the state that you where in. the state he caused you to be in.

"my, my baby. you look so adorable" he purred, his head going closer to your lower regions

"and you're all mine"

he pulled you panties off, staring down your dripping mess between your legs. his hands caressed your inner thighs, making your heat throb in anticipation.

even in such a desperate situation, he still made you feel special. it still made your stomach bubble butterflies.

"please just fuck me bon... I need you"

That lit something in him. Within seconds he’s picking you up and placing you on top of his lap, kissing your shoulders whilst his hands roamed the bottom half of your body.

You’re body was warm, soft, his hands gave you such a euphoric feeling. You knew in that moment that he’s what you want, your face grew redder and your heart beat increased.

You felt him slowly lift up your body as you felt something poking at your puffy core. A few whimpers left your mouth as you felt him enter inside of you.

“Fuckk, hon…”

His voice sounded so melodic, filling your stomach with butterflies, making you feel as if you’re a teenager again with a high school crush.

Your head naturally fell onto Bonnies shoulder as he started to bounce you up and down on his cock. He was slow and passionate. Not rough or mean like Monty was.

Your hands wrapped around him as your mouth opened, letting out the sweetest of noises, sending him over the edge, he was loving every second of it and you could tell.

“..’feels so good Bon..”

He smiled, he loved hearing you, especially like this.

“I know sweets, let Bonnie take care of ya’”

And with that, you’re riding up and down on him, filling your senses with a euphoric pleasure as he fucked you right to the edge.

By this point your legs had started to shake, you was clearly close and he wanted to get you to finish, all he wanted was for you to feel good.

His hands move as he moves one of them to your lower back and the other one straight to your puffy clit. As soon as his fingers made contact, your head flung back as the overwhelming feeling whipped straight to your core.

“O-oh my goddd… Bon..’mgonna cum..”

You mumbled as your body grew limp.

“That’s it clover, feel good on me, please”

And with that, you both felt your gummy walls tighten around him. Your body heaved as your clenched your fists and screamed for him, gifting him a small smirk on his face.

He pulled you off of him, not caring that he hadn’t finished, more of that he needed to take care of you. Pulling you into his chest, he moved a strand of hair from your face. You smiled at him. God. He loved that smile.

“God.. be mine hon, please”.

Sorry for the fact that it was rushed, its 3:56 and I’m tryna get all my drafts finished and I know y’all are back on the FNAF band waggon again so why not throw a few out there for you guys, love ya <3

Also please give me more requests, I’ve got no inspiration 😭

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf x reader #fnaf monty x reader #fnaf x afab reader #fnafsb #fnaf Bonnie #fnaf Bonnie x reader #bonnie x reader #glamrock freddy x reader #fnaf glamrock bonnie #glamrock bonnie #glamrock bonnie x reader

[elswifee]

Jealousy Jealousy

Warnings: violence, drug!use, alcohol!use, future smut, flirty!ellie, dom!ellie, jealous!ellie, bsf!ellie, nerdy!reader, sub!reader, f!nger!ng (r!receiving), strap!usage (r!receiving), scissoring, angst.. I guess??

Summary: player ellie finally convinces her bestfriend's, y/n to go to a party after school, when she get jealous of people start looking at her with hungry eyes. Causing a scene, may cost her, her bestfriend.

A/N: umm so this is my first ever fanfic so please I apologize if any Grammer mistakes, and I will be including spanish words into all my stories bc that's my first language. But I obviously will translate what it means in English. PLEASE DONT BULLY ME!! Anyways, thank you angels. ♡

Part 1 | Part 2

●○•°●○•°●○•°●○•°●○•°●○•°●○•°●○•°●○•°●•°

It was 10 pm and you were reviewing your studies from your classes earlier. You had showered, changed into some pink shorts and a white tank top, and made yourself some tea. You were already in bed just going through some pages of your text book.

Knock, knock.

You grunt, getting our of your bed and walking towards your front door. Another two knocks emit from your door. "I'm going, jeez." You open the door to find yourself infront of Ellie. "Hey, doll. How you doin'," She says as she steps inside, pulling you in by your waist, hugging you, and pressing her lips on top of your head.

"Els, what you doing here?" You asked

"What, I can't come see my bestfriend anymore?"

"No, you can, but I was just abt to go to bed," you say, heading back upstairs to your room. Ellie tailing behind you. "Awh, already. It's bearly 10:30" She whines, taking off her leather jacket and converse. Jumping on your bed and getting under the sheets. Soon you join her covering yourself too. She grabs the remote and turns on the TV. "Soooo," she starts. "Yes, ellie?" You say, already knowing she is going to ask you something.

"There's going to be a party tomorrow at some fratboys house, wanna come?" She asks, but before you say no she begins to beg. "Please come, you never want to come. You'll make me really happy... pleaseeeee?" You roll your eyes. You aren't surprised, it was no secret that ellie was pretty popular in school because she is in the soccer team, but also really popular with the ladies. "I don't know Els, I have a test tommorow and I'm going to be busy studying and-" you were cut off by an annoyed sigh. "But you always study. There isn't gonna be any damage if you don't study for one night. Please y/n come tommorow." She whines, wrapping her cold, veiny hands around your waist. You had no bra on, making your nipples perk up due to the coldness of her hands.

You push up the covers up to your neck, covering yourself. Your turn to face her, your faces just about a feet away. You can see all her freckles, and those gorgeous green eyes. "Ugh, okay fine. I'll go." You finally give in, and ellie is squealing like a little girl. Chanting yes yes yes! Before hugging you again. "Okay, okay, ya Calmate!" (Calm down) Your Spanish coming out as she starts to tickle you. Soon she calms down, you guys lay next to each other you facing the wall and her facing your back, hugging you from behind. Your stomach erupts with butterflies as soon as she slipped her hand under your top. Drawing small circles against your warm, soft skin.

Soon you fall into a deep slumber, although in the other hand, ellie was still awake, trying to get as close as possible to you. Your scent of coconut and roses drove her fucking crazy. Her cold hand soon turning warm due to your skin. Your legs rubbing against her sweatpants . She enjoyed these moments. Being in your arms while you sleep. She feels so lucky to be your person. The truth is, Ellie has had the biggest, fattest crush on you, ever since you introduced yourself to her in biology class in 8th grade. She is just too pussy to confront her feeling to you, thinking it'll ruin yalls friendship.

Don't fuck up your friendship! Don't fuck up your friendship! DON'T FUCK UP YOUR FRIENDSHIP!

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #tlou #ellie williams x reader #toxic!ellie #bef!ellie #abby anderson #abby the last of us

[thegainingdesk]

I've been hovering between 36" and 38" trousers for a little while. I've noticed this past week that my trousers were getting uncomfortable every time I wore them, but for the life of me I couldn't find any of my 38s. A couple of pairs were definitely in the wash, but I knew for a fact there's at least one clean pair somewhere. Whatever, they're pinching but I'll live in these 36s for a while and just be glad that I've officially, unequivocally made the transition up a size.

I actually bothered checking the label today. These are my 38s. My 36s won't just be "pinching", they're completely out of the question. And I don't want to say "I wear 40" waist trousers" if I've not actually tried them on, but... I mean, I'd better buy a couple of pairs, right? Should I pick up a pair of 42s? For that inevitable moment?

There's something so utterly visceral about outgrowing clothes. The increasing tightness against your growing body, contrasting with the blessed relief, the comfortable looseness once you size-up - and knowing, knowing, that soon you'll fill up all that extra space too, that soon these clothes will be the ones that are too tight, too restricting, too small, ready for the process to repeat.

Maybe, to some extent it's because it's so much easier to compare clothing sizes - weights are tricky. I see someone the same weight as me and I think how much bigger they look, or how my gut is rounder, or my thighs are softer, or their moobs bigger . Clothes sizes are official - we wear the same size, we fill the same volume. You're still in 36s? Ah, shame, I've just bought a pair of 40s.

Over the summer I went on a short holiday with friends. At one point, me and one of my closest friends were just lounging about on the sofa in our pyjamas, half-asleep, Wimbledon on in the background while everyone was out. We both sort-of woke up at about the same point, and he made a little comment about my shirt riding up. I tried to tug my shirt down and he just laughed because clearly it wasn't working. Now, this friend is straight, but we're close, he's made some jokes about my weight gain, he's at least semi-aware that I at least don't mind the added weight (a story for a different time), so he doesn't particularly mind my gut sticking out a touch, but he says I should probably put on something a bit more covering before everyone else is back.

And as I'm changing I realise that I was wearing a large t-shirt. Now, at the time I was sort of between L and XL - both worked, I could tell L's were getting a little restrictive, and I had a desired trajectory towards adding some X's, so my wardrobe was a bit of a mix of the two, but up until that point, large shirts had definitely fit. All of a sudden, they're not just a little tight, or I can feel the difference or whatever, they're indecently small - literally, someone had just told me to change to make myself decent. And that's a large; it's in the name, right? It's not huge but it's large. Larger than average. Larger than most people.

And this friend is a lot smaller than me - he wears small and medium shirts. All of a sudden I'm realising that this shirt, the shirt I'd just outgrown, that I'll never fit into again, would be way too big for him. I'm not just bigger than him, I'm bigger than people who are bigger than him. If he asks me to borrow a shirt, I have to apologise for how my old, too-tight shirt from the back of my wardrobe will be too big for him, but it'll work in a pinch. I ask him if I can borrow a shirt and I'll burst out of it like a scene from one of my stories.

Better buy some 2XL's ready for the next time he has to make a comment like that. Some 42s as well. Hopefully I'll be in them before Wimbledon rolls round again.

#weight gain #personal ramblings #personal #not a story #gaining

[heyidkyay]

10 Things Y/n Can't Live Without | GQ

Got to watching Matty's old one of these and just decided to try and write one for reader, it's silly and short but if it might be something you're into then I hope you enjoy x

“Hi GQ, I’m Y/n, and you might’ve heard a couple of my songs if you’re stuck watching this- if not, then boo, you suck.”

She pauses, thinking on it, then winces slightly and looks straight past the cameras at one of the shoot’s directors. 

“Can I say that? Is that too mean?” Before anyone can actually answer though, she waves a hand, “Ah fuck it, I don’t care. If Matty can act like a twat on his one, then so can I.” She bears a giant grin and then the lens closes in, switching from frame to frame to capture the few items she’s brought in. 

“Why are you here then today?”

She blinks and then exaggerates her eyes at the sudden reminder, “Not even five minutes in and I’ve already messed this up. But yeah, sorry! Today, I’ve brought in my ten essential items, and I guess you’re wanting to see them.” 

Wiggling her fingers, the scene then changes. 

1 - “A Lighter.”

She hums in reply to the voice, looking down at the item and then back up again. “I bet, like, if you had Harry Styles on here, his first thing would be something really nice and lovely, like Emma by Jane Austen. Seems the type, right?”

Scratches her nose in thought, “But no, you’ve just got me.”

“And what a privilege it is.”

She laughs and gives a mock bow.

“Anyway, yeah.” She continues on, fiddling with the clunky silver antique in her hand, “Not much to say about it, really. If you need a light, I’m your gal. Always prepped for arson or the odd joint.”

“Okay, probably shouldn’t say that.”

“Right, yeah ‘course, sorry. Um, don’t smoke weed then, kids?” She points at the camera with a mocking salute before the scene then changes again and she’s asked to flick open the lighter for a different shot. 

There’s a click and then the flame dies.

2 - A ziplock bag sits on top of the table. A basic run of the mill seal-again with a fading Tesco’s branded on one side.

“Ah, this is probably my most prized possession, I reckon.” Her eyes dance under the studio lights and a few chuckles can be heard from behind the camera.

“What are we looking at here?”

She drags the plastic baggy in closer and unzips it, taking a sniff of the strong scent that escapes. “Tea bags.”

“Tea bags? What kind?”

“Yorkshire through and through. Here in the states it’s so hard to find even a basic PG pyramid, let alone one of these babies.” She cradles it close to her chest, “Honestly would kill for a brew right now. But these things help me whenever I get a little too homesick- both on tour and when I’m just travelling.”

“Very lovely.”

“Very British.” She corrects with a wide grin.

3 - “I honestly want to meet the person who first invented headphones, because? Wow. What a man.” She sighs, almost reverently, opening up the AirPods case she holds with a single hand, one which seems to be covered in tiny stickers and a difficult to read engraving. 

“Reckon they had to have been the world's biggest introvert at the time. I mean, just imagine shoving shit into your ears trying to escape the idiots sat ‘round you, but then doing one better and deciding that you’d much rather prefer to listen to something sick.”

“How are they essential to you?”

“It'll sound dramatic. But I actually feel like I’d be lost without them? In a sad way. They let me disconnect when I need to, and with a job like mine that’s really hard to do at times.”

“And the last song you listened to?”

She smirks, eyes squinting at the question as she glances into camera one. “A demo.”

“One of yours?”

She merely laughs, and the joyful sound of it echoing around the studio space. “No, I wish! We’ll be waiting on that one for a while longer still.”

4 - The next item is slid into shot.

“Ah, my phone.” She clutches it in one hand but looks down at it, almost saddened. 

“It feels so stupid to say it’s an essential, because I miss the old days when we were all forced to go outside and knock about. But it really is. It has everything I need to keep me safe stored on there and also keeps me updated on things happening back home, just stuff like that. Plus, it really helps to keep my brain occupied on long flights and during meetings. So there’s always an upside.”

“What kind of case do you have on it?”

Her nose wrinkles as she glances down at the battered protecting she’s had since she first got the phone, and hums, “Just one of them hardshell ones- that what they're called? But yeah, it was a present- very much me, or so I’ve been told- and I was grateful for it. It’s scratched to bits now though, but my screen has yet to break!”

She winces, “I say that, but that’s it now. The next time it drops it’ll shatter, won’t it?”

5 - We watch as she sits a clunky old disposable before herself. It’s black and yellow, and slightly scuffed, but looks very well loved.

“Pretty self-explanatory. Just a camera, I take pictures, these things pair well together.” She turns it on and an unexpected flash goes off, “The price to print film is fucking extortionate though. So, don’t expect a copy of that.” She chuckles, alongside a couple of the camera crew and then slides the camera further down the table. 

“If anyone were to get hold of it though, they’d have a proper field day- but alas, what happens on tour, stays on tour.”

6 - The next item is one she toys with for a long moment, looking down at its yellowed pages before settling it down gently before her so that the camera can get a close up.

“A novel?”

She shakes her head, wearing the beginnings of a fond smile.

“No, this little beauty is my first child.” She states, splaying a hand over the cover of a leatherbound journal. Which earns her a few raised brows that she just laughs at before picking the thing up to flick through. “It is! But it’s also your quintessential songbook. Packed full of stories and lyrics and messy scrawl. I’ve got things sellotaped in there too, just as reminders or for when I lack inspiration.”

“What sort of things?”

With a hum, she thinks about it. “Bottlecaps? Um, a couple polaroids... Think there’s a seashell or two in there as well, from the time I was visiting a friend of mine in Barbados. So yeah, I’ve had it for years, just keep adding pages in. Need a new one though. Desperately.”

“Can we have a look inside?”

She peers down the book, hands cradling it almost protectively now, then chews on her lower lip.

“You can say no.”

Her eyes dart upwards again, “No, you’re all good. It’s just personal, you know? But yeah, I can show you the first page or so.”

Slipping off the elastic binding it altogether, the book practically bursts open on its own. She’s quick to flick to the very first page, which sports a couple of film pictures as well as the odd sticker, but is mainly just filled with miniscule scribbles.

The camera zooms in for a closer shot.

“So, all the doodles and wobbly words are just from friends or other writers I’ve worked with.” She points to a little drawing of a t-rex in the corner, “This here, was my mate George’s work. He’s vandalised quite a bit of this book, I can’t lie. But we’ve known each other for ages, and he’s produced and worked on most of my music.”

Then she trails her finger lower and across a couple of names, “There, Lewis Capaldi wrote that I’ve got a great arse, and then Noel Gallager graced a corner with his scribbled signature- still aiming to get Liam’s somehow. But I’m working on it.” 

She peers a little closer, looking for another story or detail to mention, “Oh, down here you can see a bit of blood! Like two or three splatters that stain the page.” She grins wickedly and glances back up at the camera, “That was from a time I tagged along to a Bring Me The Horizon tour, way back when. Oli sliced his hand on a guitar string and it was a proper mess. Bit mad looking back on it actually.

“What can you tell us about that main photo?”

She practically beams at the question, her gaze immediately shooting back towards the picture sat in the page’s very centre. It’s square and has its own doodled frame.

“That’s me and a couple of very good friends of mine. Bit of a difficult picture to make out, but only because it was taken with a flash and it’s about a decade old now.” She relays, dropping the notebook down on her forearm so that the camera guy can get a better look. “That’s Hann and Ross, and there’s G’s big smile. My oldest mate, Vin, is the idiot leaning over the shoulder of my cousin, Lol, in that very top corner, and then at the bottom there is Matty and I.”

“Very cosy.”

She smirks.

7 - “Number seven, what have you got for us?”

She huffs around an amused smile, “Do you know how hard it was to think of ten items? Like, if I was back home I’d’ve probably brought my mum’s dog along- or my settee. But I’m not, so I got stuck and as I was thinking about it I figured that these had to be an essential of mine. ‘Cause when I’m with the guys I’m sort of known for always having some sort of sweet treat on me.”

A pack of Haribo is placed down onto the table, alongside a red and yellow wrapped lollipop and a single bar of chocolate.

“So, you lot haven’t got any Tangfastics here- which is, I can’t even begin to fathom how you survive. Someone start a petition, please. But anyway, instead I’ve got these Zing things? Which are similar but not as good, no hate! Just the truth.”

She shrugs gently before opening the packet up and nicking one, then offers the rest of the packet outwards, smiling as a few step forward. 

“These two… these are from back home.” She claims as she drags the remaining two items nearer, “The lolly is a drumstick, don’t know if you have them here, or have even heard of them, but we typically get them in mixed or party bags back home. They’re a favourite, but I reckon that’s just mainly down to my mum’s love of them. And then this,” She moves swiftly on, twirling a wrapped chocolate bar between her fingers whilst she smiles, “This is one item I can't live without. They’re the messiest things, but taste so fucking good.”

“What’s it called?”

“A flake? Usually we get them on a 99, but they do them in multipacks and in like your local.”

“A 99?”

Her eyes widen theatrically before she drops her head into her hands, “I can’t do this today. Do you really not know what I’m on about?”

8 - A blue passport is chucked up in the air and she almost topples out of her chair to catch it.

“Ha!” She grins, waving the thing about smugly before dropping it down again. “This felt so stupid to include, but I couldn’t not. I need this for most places I go; hotels, airports… sometimes even a club if I’ve forgotten or lost my ID. But yeah, I couldn't just show you a pack of Haribo and then not include my passport.”

9 - A clinking breaks up the quiet filming they’ve been wrapped up in as they move onto the next item.

“House keys!” She exclaims happily, rattling the horde of keys she now carries.

“To how many houses?”

She rolls her eyes, not unkindly, and then smiles, wrapping the keys up in between her palms. “Three. But don’t worry, they’re not all mine!” She feels the ridiculous need to make known, but she only receives a few curious glances in return.

Taking the first set between her forefinger and thumb, a silver key and brass chub, she shows them off to the camera lens, “These are to my mum and dad’s house, they let me in through the front door whenever I want. Although I guess they're more so for emergencies, ‘cause I still like to knock when I turn up.” She shrugs a single shoulder, swiping through the keys again, “Also have the one to their garage on here somewhere as well- see, it’s that small one right there.”

Next, she dangles a single fob key and another silver cut in view. “These are mine. They let me past the front gate and the other one opens the majority of whatever else. Probably shouldn't be letting the world know that.” She snorts, but ultimately shrugs before moving onto the last of the three.

“And these,” She says as she rattles the chain to reveal a rather large horde of other keys, “Are to my very first flat. I shared it with a mate at first then things evolved and changed, so we moved onto something bigger.”

“Why do you keep them?”

“Why not?” She quips, grinning down at the set, “I mean, they hold a lot of sentimental value to me. Not just in the sense that they belonged to my very first place, but the memories I made there.”

She smiles back up at the camera a second later, now holding a little lego person that had been dangling from one of the many rings, “And there’s this little guy, too. Never had the heart to get rid of him or separate him from the others, so he just stays there. He’s beyond recognition now and definitely seen some shit, I can’t lie- actually, you can barely even make out his face or the shirt he’s wearing. See?”

She holds the yellow figure further outwards. She’s right about how disfigured the thing is, but there’s a slight mohawk to be seen and a faded outline of what once would’ve been its shirt.

“Can you remember where it came from?”

“‘Course! A friend, at the time, gave it to me. I got proper jealous of the one he’d been given at some wedding or other, like, just loved playing with it whenever we were driving and stuff. I did end up forgetting I had them at times though, so he got me one of my own just so that he could finally have his keys back.”

Her laughter is contagious, and she looks to be caught up in the memory of it.

10 - “I haven’t really got a tenth one!”

Her claim is met with quiet protests to which she mirthfully shakes her head at, “Honest! I was really stressing about it on the way over here.” She chuckles before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Have you got a special mention then? Something you’d like to claim your tenth spot?”

She gives a wily little smile, as though she’s just thought of something but can’t say it. “I do.”

A silence settles, and they’re waiting for her to continue on so they can wrap up the shoot, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Well?” One of the directors asks with an intrigued chuckle, wanting to know now.

That smirk of hers doesn’t dim and so she just shrugs, “I can’t say, but they’ll know. And they’ll be so miffed they didn’t think of it first.” She almost cackles at the thought but just shakes her head instead, grinning away happily.

“They?”

“Uhuh,” She agrees and then sits up further in her chair, a sudden realisation hitting her, “You know what? I think this essentially is my ‘get away’ bag.”

“Pretty sure Matty said something of a similar degree.”

A scowl etches into her features at that and she rolls her eyes, “Oh my God. He’s such a copycat-”

…

“You have your ten essentials now.”

“I do! I have my ten essentials.” She smiles into the lens, eyes skimming over the people laid out beyond it, “Honestly thank you all so much for having me, this has actually been pretty fun. Like, sort of got to go down memory lane and whatnot.”

“Glad to have had you.”

“So, I guess the question now is, who’s on next?”

Comments:

@/user actually obsessed w her @/user so many questions 😭😭 @/user Swear I’ve seen that lighter before ⤷ @/user :link to an old instagram picture on @/the1975 account: @/user anyone see what was engraved on the airpods case? @/user A demo?? I swear if it’s one of the bands I’ll sob. @/user HER SONGBOOK. THAT PICTURE. THE FACT THAT SHE HAS OLI’S DNA JUST ON HAND ⤷ @/user They’re so cute. It hurts. @/user i want Lewis to look at my ass:/ @/user George’s lil dino kills me off 😭 @/user ‘What happens on tour, stays on tour.’ WHAT HAPPENS ON TOUR Y/N? ⤷ @/user THE WAY SHE JUST SMIRKS TOO @/user What this video’s taught me, if you need an arson accomplice yn is your gal x @/user The lego man’s shirt!! Definitely a box there. ⤷ @/user And the mohawk too?? Dead giveaway. @/user Her tenth has got to be Matty no? @/user THE WHOLE HOUSE KEYS BIT? WHAT?? Didn’t she share a flat with Matty at one point? ⤷ @/user No, they did. But also “..things evolved and changed, so we moved onto something bigger.” So WE moved… WE 🙂  ⤷⤷ @/user We’re really just skipping over “a friend, at the time” then.. Okay! @/user 6:12 That bit at the end?! They?? This has to be about Matty, right? He’s the only one who’s been on before! @/user Have they always been together? This has me so confused rn 😭 ⤷ @/user Welcome to the club lovely!:) ⤷⤷ @/user At this point I’m actually scared we’ll never know ngl ⤷⤷⤷ @/user They are my roman empire @/user Can we get one of the Derry Girls on please! It’s not a want, but a need.

#the 1975 #the 1975 band #matty healy #matty #the 1975 imagines #celeb! reader #interview #fic #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy x y/n #x reader #you #adam hann #ross macdonald #george daniel #fluff #humour #10 things

[moonshine-nightlight]

2024 Writing - Plans

similar to last year, i wanted to post a little look forward at my plans for writing this year are. the necessary disclaimer: this is 100% high level, optimistic, ideal situation and subject to change but i still like thinking about it and posting for anyone who's interested. see this post for last years!

so, i like separating things out it mini goals/sections so see below:

Nothing's Wrong with Dale: with DSM self-published under my belt, I'd like to focus on the NWWD publishing journey next! The main obstacles/costs are time and money. Hiring an editor and a cover artist are the pricey-est part of the process but my own edit (first to convert everything from 2nd POV to 3rd POV and then another high-level edit/revise once i've got it in the right POV) will take the most time and needs to be done before i hand it over to an editor. Then after the editor takes their time (and NWWD is much longer than DSM), and finally i need to process all of their edits as well. And i need to do all of this while i do my day job lol.

i've already converted the first 11 chapters to 3rd POV (i hav some IRL friends/betas who only read that version, so if u feel like the tumblr version took a lot of time lol). the timing of being able to publish this year will all end up depending on how quickly i can do all that and kick off the part of the process that depends on outside parties. Even if i manage to self-publish in this year, i don't expect it to come out until lik December and even that's ideal, super best case scenario.

Long Stories: I want to outline both A Perfectly Ordinary Research Position and Shadow Diplomacy and then pick one to be the new long story on here. I do what i call a chapter outline and a scene outline, which is confusing to not!me because the scene = a chapter on here. i should probably rename that process lol. (NWWD was 11 'chapters' and 35 'scenes' for reference).

once i pick a project, i just hope to post as many chapters as i can. Since this will be new, long, and likely just building steam, i actually think it'll be my lower priority after the Short Stories and NWWD publishing, but we'll see. i'd like to start putting that up in June, according to my tentative 2024 schedule.

Short Stories: Since i didn't get as many of these done in 2023 and they've been haunting my brain longer, i want to for sure get some of these shorter stories done. learning from last years overestimation lol, i plan to post 3 short stories: Courtship Confusion, Feral, and finish Free Piano: Haunted, in that order. i'm excited about all these stories and will let me cover 3 different types of pairings (although technically all are Reader) which is fun. All have been outlined and have parts and pieces written. I wish Feral and FPH could both happen in the fall but the timing just doesnt work out so summers gonna b a little spooky lol.

The schedule i worked out makes it so all this will be possible, but also basically has no breaks in sunday postings after my haitus which is beyond optimistic but i lik to start overly confident lol

Hiatus: this is also your reminder that my work has a specific Busy Season which honestly started already (lucky me) and i will b beyond busy Jan-March at a minimum. i hav more projects than ever with my promotion, a lot to learn, and a lot to juggle so minimum 6 day work weeks will be the name of the game - but hopefully all goes well and i'll get a nice bonus i can feed directly to my editors lol

anyway, that's where i'm at right now and I'm looking forward to all the exciting writing and publishing to come in 2024!

Feel free to send in any asks about upcoming/current stories!

Thanks again for all your support in 2023 and Happy New Year!

#my writing #writing status #2024 plans #yearly overview #story status #nothing's wrong with dale #courtship confusion #feral #free piano: haunted #self-publishing #editing #lov to shoot high lol #rly rly thank you for all the support you've given these past few years #i'm still so excited to be doing so much with my original works #:D

[nightingaelic]

I loved your Courier with wings piece and I was wondering when you get a chance can you do one with the fallout 4 companions?

It was already something for a vault dweller to emerge in the wasteland and become more than just another corpse in the weeds, victim to one of the countless dangers that roamed the Commonwealth. But not only did they refuse to die, they refused to crumble in the face of the unseen threats, the factions and egos and mysteries that ruled this new world with little care for those just trying to get by. There were tales taller than the Mass Fusion skyscraper about them in no time. A dead spouse, a missing child, a mission of vengeance and rescue. A life lived before this wreckage, before fire rained down on America and shaped it anew. And strangest of all, a figure that had emerged from deep underground and shot skyward, refusing to be imprisoned again.

Cait: The Combat Zone gig kept Cait busy for the most part, but she caught rumors here and there from the raiders that ran the place and radio broadcasts in the spaces between fights. She wrote the rumors off as some hotshot with a power armor jet pack and gliding wings, but others were less easily reassured. There were stories about Corvega, Beantown Brewery, even Gristle's gang up by Concord, and none of them had happy endings.

"If they make their way here, we're all dead," Tommy said after hearing about another sighting of the mysterious vault dweller.

"If they walk in the front door, just put them in the ring with me," Cait joked. "I might not make it, but at least it'll be a good show."

When the sole survivor did finally walk in the front door, Cait was astonished that they weren't punched full of holes by the raiders' bullets as soon as they entered. They were fast, wheeling over the theater's seats and diving down on the unlucky that needed to pause to reload. Cait and Tommy took cover until the dust had settled, but while Tommy kept cowering as they approached the stage, Cait rose and brushed herself off. "You just wiped out our livelihood, angel," she said.

The sole survivor smirked. "They shot first."

"Oh, I noticed. Got more bullets in the seats than you did in the crowd."

They glanced around. "This place needed some renovations, anyway."

Cait grinned. "Can't say I disagree with you. Why come here at all? I figured this wasn't your scene."

"It's not." The sole survivor's eyes wandered across the cage ring onstage. "I just wanted to see what happened to this place. It's been a long time since I visited, and someone in Diamond City said it was still putting on shows."

"Still putting on..." Cait shook her head. "You can't be pre-war. Last I checked, ghouls didn't sprout wings."

"Nobody sprouts wings." The sole survivor smiled. "I went through a hell of a lot to earn these."

"Sounds like a story that warrants a drink." Cait abandoned Tommy and gestured toward the recently-vacated bar. "What's your poison, angel?"

Codsworth: It had been a little over 210 years since Codsworth had seen the sole survivor, but there was no mistaking the figure that descended the hill upon which Vault 111's entrance sat. "As I live and breathe!" the Mister Handy robot cried, floating forward to greet them. "It's... it's really you!"

The robot stopped short when he realized their pained movements, and how impeded they seemed by something they carried on their back. "Is there something...?"

"Codsworth." The sole survivor collapsed, falling forward into the dry grass. A pair of wings, each one at least nine feet long, splayed out in an unsuccessful attempt to keep them upright.

"Oh dear, oh dear." Codsworth rushed to their side. "Can I assist you? Let me help you stand."

The robot did his best to steady them as they climbed to their feet again, marveling at the wings as he did. They looked like something out of the kitschy art pieces he had seen for sale at pre-war home decor shops, particularly the fanciful Christmas nativities. Aside from the vault suit, they could have fit right into one the Biblical scenes. "Forgive me, but how did you come to possess these... appendages?" he asked politely.

"Beats me." The sole survivor had their eyes closed. They looked like they were about to throw up at any second.

"Some water," Codsworth suggested, retrieving a sample from his built-in purification system. "That's it, drink up. Slowly, now. You'll need every bit of it if you want to rebuild your strength."

Once they were finished, Codsworth accepted the empty can and stowed it away. "There. Now, where is the rest of your family? Surely they can't be far behind you, if you managed to emerge unscathed."

The look on their face was more than enough to tell Codsworth that his worst fears had been realized.

Curie: When the Miss Nanny robot that had been concealed in the hidden wing of Vault 81 realized that her unexpected visitor had wings, she immediately asked if they would allow her to examine them. "C'est extraordinaire," she said in wonder, floating around them and scanning the feathery additions that hung from their shoulders. "These must be the result of Vault-Tec experimentation, no?"

The sole survivor shifted uncomfortably under her assessment. "I can tell you the details later. We've got a sick boy to save, first."

Curie happily relinquished the cure for Austin Engill's illness and stood by quietly as the Vault 81 residents thanked the sole survivor for all of their help. The boy was waking up by the time they were finished, and the sole survivor bashfully extended one of their wings so he could reach up from his hospital bed to feel its feathers. "They're real," he whispered, astonished.

The sole survivor permitted Curie to follow them out of the vault, but they put off her request for an examination for several days. They were protective of their wings, unfurling them only at times where flight was absolutely necessary. Curie took measurements of their estimated weight and length as best she could, but the distraction of the beautiful, adaptive post-war world around her began to win out. She stopped asking about the sole survivor's wings after their first week together.

Months later, after Curie had come to the inevitable conclusion that her robotic body was insufficient for the work she wished to conduct in the wasteland, the sole survivor brought up the topic with her again. "In case the consciousness transfer goes wrong," they explained. "Did you want to-?"

Curie stopped them. "It will be okay. Everything is prepared, and Doctor Amari can be trusted. Save the moment for when I have the ability to truly feel them."

When Curie awoke on Doctor Amari's memory lounger, the sole survivor was standing over her, peering at her face with touching concern. Curie smiled and reached a hand up to grasp theirs. "Cocou," she murmured.

In response, the sole survivor uncurled a wing and guided her hand to it. "Enchantée," they said, sliding her fingers into the feathers.

Paladin Danse: Danse only became aware that he was staring at the vault dweller who had helped him fend off the ferals outside the Cambridge Police Station when Scribe Haylen cleared her throat. "Paladin, are you alright?"

"Fine," he replied a little too quickly. He dropped the nose of his laser rifle and approached the stranger who had two wings spread out behind them, stretching and flexing in the fading afternoon sun. They looked like statues he had seen in the Capital Wasteland, art deco guardians that still watched over the DC ruins and their inhabitants. They also looked tired.

"Will you three be okay from here on?" they asked him, lowering their own weapon. "That subway station nearby is loaded with more of these... things."

"We'll manage." Danse surveyed the pile of bodies that had formed around them during the attack. "You handled yourself well. I don't suppose I could trouble you for more assistance, while the rest of my team recovers?"

Hours later they were deep inside ArcJet Systems, fighting off Institute synths inside the XMB booster engine's silo, already spinning around each other like their partnership had been born long before that day. Danse was running out of fusion cells, the sole survivor was less sure of their aerial movements within the concrete tower, but the synths kept coming. Desperate, the sole survivor threw a nearby switch and the booster engine roared to life. They realized their mistake too and dove toward the Paladin in power armor, but Danse threw a hand out to ward them off. "Stay there!"

The fire from the engine tore through the synths, and the sole survivor was flung upward on the wave of heat that had been released at the silo's base. Danse fell to one knee and braced himself until the flames had abated and the ash that had been released began to settle. When he looked up again, the vault dweller was descending, circling lower and lower until their wingspan obscured the scaffolding above and filled his vision.

"Who are you?" Danse asked, dropping all pretenses of protocol.

They touched down next to him as lightly as dandelion fluff descends on a field. "Nobody, anymore," they replied.

"I highly doubt that."

The sole survivor smiled. "On your feet, soldier. Let's find that deep range transmitter."

Deacon: The moment Deacon heard about the sole survivor of a vault that was flying around the northern end of the Commonwealth, he immediately abandoned his other surveillance projects and started putting himself in their path. They took their sweet time building up the confidence to approach the larger settlements in the wasteland, but Deacon was a master of patience.

Finally, after another ordinary day of looking busy at Bunker Hill, the winged wonder talked their way through Kessler and ducked around staring caravan hands to go sell some duct tape to Deb. They looked gaunt, like someone who had gone from having all their needs met to barely surviving in a short period of time. The knees on their pants were patched, and Deacon was positive that there were bruises underneath from rough landings. He ducked out of the settlement as soon as they disappeared into the columned trading floor, before anyone could notice his interest.

His next look at them was a longer one, as a security officer in Diamond City, circling the marketplace while they consumed a bowl of noodles that was probably their first real meal in days. Their wings were a little more weathered, with more ragged edges from use and wasteland abuse, but they were still whole. Deacon risked some more scrutiny, as he certainly wasn't the only security officer that was watching the sole survivor. Their wings weren't visibly synthetic, but neither were most synths these days - just because there wasn't a harness or cybernetic mesh attaching them to their owner, it didn't mean they were organic. Then again, the Institute was also known for experimentation with that tricky manipulator, FEV, so it really was anyone's guess where the wings came from.

Deacon tried a greeting in Goodneighbor. "Hey," he said as they brushed past him, on their way to see Daisy about a library book return. They eyed him with surprise, but only nodded before continuing into the pre-war ghoul's shop. Deacon smiled and loitered for a little longer, letting a plan form in his mind's eye before slipping out the gate and heading back to HQ.

Sure enough, they found their way to the end of the Freedom Trail before the year was out. Desdemona was annoyed, which Deacon had anticipated, but when she poked him for details about the Commonwealth's latest curiosity, he put himself on the line. "Yes," he said when she asked if he was vouching for them. "Definitely."

"Why'd you do that?" the sole survivor asked him after Desdemona's show of force was over. "You don't know me."

"This might be jumping the gun a bit, but we have big plans that are just now getting set into motion," Deacon answered, straightening his sunglasses to help block out the catacombs' spotlights. "Someday we're gonna go public. Now, I know you're already committed in terms of being a symbol of hope, but I'd like to give you my pitch about why you'd be a good one for the Railroad."

Dogmeat: Dogmeat was unconcerned with the sole survivor's wings, beyond a perfunctory inspection upon their first meeting at the Red Rocket Station. The sole survivor stood still for the dog while he sniffed their feathers, waiting for him to whuff his satisfaction when finished. "Good enough, boy?" they said, stretching the wings carefully so as not to startle the dog. "Something to get used to, I know. For both of us."

Dogmeat cocked his head to the side and accepted their affection, panting happily. The sole survivor sighed. "At least something made it through the war without coming out too different on the other side."

Mayor John Hancock: Hancock was about ready to start plucking feathers when the sole survivor finally came winging his way. They'd been circling the downtown ruins for a week now, scouting the area as if searching for something, and they had all his Goodneighbor guards on edge. "They're gonna drop in one night and start wrecking the place, Hancock," some of the ghouls would say when he tried to reassure them. "We can't fly. What are we supposed to do?"

"You can shoot, can't you?" Hancock always reminded them. "Don't do it unless you're sure they're about to drop a grenade on you or something, though. Last thing we need is a feud with the would-be savior of the Commonwealth."

Fahrenheit got most of the guards straightened out after that, but the whole thing was such a headache for the mayor that when the sole survivor deigned to touch down, he straightened himself out and strode up to them with every ounce of authority he could muster. "About time you showed your face in town," he said. "Now what the hell do you want that's got you circling Goodneighbor like a hawk?"

The sole survivor looked taken aback. "A merc," they said. "Goes by the name Kellogg. Someone told me he used to come through here occasionally, and I was hoping I could catch him."

Hancock looked to Fahrenheit, who shook her head. "Ain't seen him," he said.

"Been over a month," Fahrenheit added.

The sole survivor's face fell. "Shit. Guess that lead's a bust."

"Why not land here sooner and ask?" Hancock demanded to know.

"I was warned to keep my distance," the sole survivor replied sheepishly.

Hancock rolled his eyes. "Hovering over my town like a goddamned bird of prey. Nobody here's gonna hurt you. Except maybe Finn, but he won't if you've got a spine under those wings. Just keep your intentions known and we won't have a problem. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Grand." Hancock spread his arms wide. "Welcome to Goodneighbor."

Robert Joseph MacCready: MacCready was in the middle of explaining to Winlock and Barnes that they would get their money eventually when a stranger in a vault suit stumbled through the door. He was about to advise them to get lost for their own good when he realized that the two Gunners had become completely distracted by something about their entrance. "What's the big-"

With a blustery thump, the vault dweller unfurled wings larger than their own body that knocked over the VIP room mannequins and blocked the door. "Problem?" they asked the Gunners.

Winlock eyed them suspiciously, but he didn't go for his gun. "No problem. We were just leaving."

He nodded to Barnes, and the two men tried to inch around the vault dweller's wings. They didn't make it easy to leave, and in the end the two men had to wait for them to diminish their stance a bit before squeezing past into the hallway.

"Never seen those two hit the road that quickly before," MacCready commented once they were gone. "I think I heard about you on the radio once or twice. Thought you were a myth. Are you some kind of newfangled super mutant?"

"Something like that." The sole survivor smoothed their feathers down again and approached him. "I heard there's a mercenary around here who's a crack shot with a sniper rifle."

"You're looking at him," MacCready said with pride. "What do you need a gun for?"

"To watch my back, mostly. But also to teach me some distance shooting tricks." The sole survivor sighed and held up the pistol they'd been using for the better part of their time above-ground. "This works fine within a certain range, but I need some practice with rifles before I even try using one while doing aerial maneuvers. Hancock said you're the best sniper he knows, so here I am."

MacCready set aside the vault dweller's unusual appearance and got down to brass tacks. "Price is 250 caps, up front. And there's no room for bargaining."

"Done." The sole survivor began emptying their pockets.

"And you need a rifle of your own. I'm not teaching you on mine."

His new boss jerked their head skyward. "Think KL-E-0's got what I need? She seemed pretty well-stocked, today."

MacCready jumped to his feet and began scooping up the caps they were depositing on the VIP room couch. "Worth a look. Just don't get anything laser or plasma to begin with. Learn the basics first, and then you can start to get fancy."

Nick Valentine: The day the sole survivor came to Vault 114, Nick was just as shocked by their appearance as they were by his. He thought they might be wearing loose clothing and beating Skinny Malone's boys up with a tennis racket, they way they were whistling and flapping around down in the vault's atrium, but he didn't get a good look at them until they peered through the circular window of the Overseer's office. "Sweet heavens to Betsy," the detective exclaimed when he caught sight of the wings on their back. "What exactly are you?"

"What are you?" the sole survivor countered, eyes wide at the old synth's Institute-manufactured face.

"Open the door and we can compare notes," Nick suggested.

They obliged, and the vault door slid open with a rusty hiss. The sole survivor folded one wing up and wrapped the other in front of them, as if their pinions were going to protect them from the unknown figure with the glowing, golden eyes. "Relax," Nick reassured them. "Never seen a synth before?"

"What's a synth?" they asked. "Someone outside Diamond City called me that, and then everyone got really quiet."

"Oh, kid." Nick lit his last cigarette and took a drag, looking the sole survivor over as he did. "Is that vault suit you're wearing yours, or just a fashion statement?"

"Mine."

"Hmm." Nick waved the little torch around to point at their wings. "So you're either a Vault-Tec experiment I've never heard of, or you might be a distant cousin of mine. But we can unpack all of that later. Right now we've got a couple of seconds to get out of here before the rest of Skinny's guys realize their buddies aren't just taking their time changing the guard shift."

Piper Wright: As soon as Piper caught sight of the person approaching Diamond City's main gate, she completely forgot about the fact that Mayor McDonough had ordered her to be locked out. "It's you!" she said excitedly, hurrying up to the sole survivor. "Travis hasn't shut up about you for the past two weeks. What are you doing in Diamond City?"

"Looking for someone," the sole survivor replied, surprised. "I'm sorry, you are?"

"Piper Wright, owner of and reporter for Publick Occurrences. Diamond City's resident newspaper." Piper stuck her hand out. "Not to spring this on you during your first day in town, but I'd love an interview. Saving the folks in Concord, restarting the Minutemen, winging around the Commonwealth like something out of a storybook... you've made a lot of people curious about you. Me included."

The sole survivor shook her hand hesitantly. "I'll think about it. Why is the gate closed?"

"Just a little disagreement with the mayor. Nothing for you to worry about, I'm sure they'll let you in." Piper rubbed her chin. "If you want to skip the security screening though, I don't suppose they can stop you as easily as they stopped me."

The sole survivor caught her drift, and they looked at the gate in alarm. "They locked you out of your home?"

"Eh, not for long. I'll find a way back in."

"Come here." The sole survivor offered her their hand. Piper took it, and found herself swept up in their arms. The vault dweller's wings shot out, and the wind they stirred up nearly knocked loose her cap.

Their flight was short, likely because the sole survivor didn't want to get shot down, and they set her down gently in the middle of Diamond City's main street toward the marketplace. They ignored the stares of passersby and looked up at the newspaper office's sign. "This is you?"

"Yeah." Piper tried to catch her breath again and wound up coughing. "Sorry. Yeah. Did you... do you want to come inside?"

Preston Garvey: Preston had been pretty sure that he and the rest of the Quincy survivors had met their end in the Museum of Freedom, even as he took potshots at raiders from the building's balcony. He was prolonging the fight, but they were wildly outnumbered and Sturges had no more tricks up his sleeve. Even Dogmeat had disappeared sometime during the fray, which was a bad omen if ever he'd seen one.

When the German shepherd reappeared and tore into the raiders on the ground, Preston almost wanted to run the dog off again, to save at least one of their skins. He nearly missed the shadow that followed Dogmeat, the uncoordinated dive to the ground that swept the surprised raiders back a block and slammed them into buildings one by one. It was all Preston could do to grab his laser musket and clutch it to his chest before the newcomer in the vault suit alighted on the balcony next to him, folding up a pair of wings on their back neat as you please.

"Need some help?" they asked breathlessly.

"Who are you?" Preston replied. "What- where did you get-"

"Vault 111. Above Sanctuary Hills." The sole survivor indicated the northwest road out of town. "The rest can wait. Are there more in the building?"

"Yeah, and I've got people inside." Preston shook off his surprise. "I don't know if you've got much room to maneuver in the hallway outside the room we're holed up in, but if you can get out into the museum's atrium..."

The sole survivor nodded and produced a pistol. "On it. Lead the way."

As Preston opened the door for them, the phrase Mama Murphy had been muttering to herself all the way from Lexington popped into his mind. "Our guardian angel," he murmured.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing. Just glad you dropped in."

Strong: The only way up Trinity Tower was through 30 stories of Strong's brothers, and Strong was confident that any human that made it to the top of the building would have already partaken of the fabled milk. He was therefore annoyed when the first human to arrive was cheating, using bird wings to pass up the mutants and fly straight for the cell where he and Rex Goodman were incarcerated.

Rex wasn't nearly as bothered. "Oh, beneficent bard! A rescuer, swift on swallow's wings! Do hurry up and let us out, it's been days since they gave us something to eat that wasn't raw."

Strong grumbled his disdain as the rescuer picked the lock, and he glared daggers at them the entire way down on the outside lift. When they finally reached the bottom intact, he refused to thank them for their help, even though Rex berated him for remaining silent. "Puny bird," was all the super mutant said.

The sole survivor was forgiving though, and they did offer to help the super mutant in his quest after Rex explained the situation. "I'm looking for it, too," they said. "Or something like it."

"Strong drink milk first," Strong insisted. "Then human. No more fly away from fights."

The sole survivor chuckled. "The wings might grow on you, Strong. I hated them at first too, but now I don't know what I'd do without them."

X6-88: When the Director's parent appeared at the rendezvous point near Libertalia, a shiver ran down X6-88's spine. He checked the involuntary reaction before it had run its course, but the arrival of a winged figure from on high was one that no amount of Institute training could have prepared him for.

They approached him leisurely, just as much at ease with their overt superiority as him - they with their enormous, feathered wings, he with his engineered deadliness and efficiency. "Do you like what you see?" they asked him, pausing to give the Courser a proud pose.

"Opinions are irrelevant to our mission today," X6-88 replied evenly.

"Oh, come on." The sole survivor leaned in and ran a hand up his shoulder. "All you Coursers do when I walk into a room is stare. The SRB has you trained well, it never feels impolite... but now that we're not surrounded by Institute walls, you can tell me what you're thinking. Is it admiration? Envy? Maybe a little fear?"

X6-88 desperately wanted to twitch, to shrug their hand away, but he relaxed his muscles and kept his face still. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"Boo." The sole survivor took a step back, and a mild pout crossed their face. "No one in the Institute ever tells me their real thoughts. It's getting old."

BONUS!

Ada: "Where did you acquire your mobility upgrades?" Ada asked the sole survivor after they assisted her in fighting off the scrapbots and laying her caravan companions to rest.

"I don't actually know," the sole survivor answered, running a hand along their left wing's feathers. "I was frozen in a vault for two centuries, and I woke up with them. They've served me well, but I keep waiting for something to go wrong."

"Turing was always a little wobbly whenever Jackson tinkered with his jet thrusters," Ada recalled. "Zoe always made sure to run some maneuverability tests once Jackson was finished. I could help you conduct some of your own, if you are unsure of your upgrades' capabilities. It's the least I can do."

"Thanks." The sole survivor fed another branch to the fire and shifted on the stump they'd claimed as a chair. "More than anything, I'm worried about wiping out. Someday I might not be able to dodge a missile and I'll just go down and break a leg, or the wings themselves. And then I'll just be a sitting duck. I can fly okay to escape fights, but these are way too heavy to run with."

"Have you considered Stealth Boy technology?" Ada suggested. "Or an armor-integrated medic pump, in case of injury? There are plenty of pre-war military technologies that give you more control over such a scenario."

The sole survivor looked up. "Now there's an idea. Do you know where I might try to find those?"

"I know of a few spots that my caravan marked as places of interest."

Old Longfellow: Wings on a person weren't a common sight in Far Harbor, and of course the harbormen stared when the newcomer landed on the dock. Even Old Longfellow had himself a double take, when they first walked into the Last Plank looking for a guide to take them up to Acadia. But once you got past the initial shock, they looked like any other wastelander down on their luck. Their boots had holes in them, their clothes were bedraggled, and even their wings were in need of a good preen.

"They heavy?" Longfellow asked as they made their way up the road toward the observatory together.

"Heavier when it's wet." The sole survivor turned and grimaced at the appendages in question. "How long will this fog last, do you think?"

Longfellow laughed. "Long as time itself, I reckon. Some years it's manageable, some years it's worse. Never goes away completely."

He yelped in surprise when the wastelander's wings unfurled, shaking water everywhere. The last thing he saw before they shot straight up into the sky was their look of distaste.

They were back in a few minutes, gliding in to a less-than-graceful landing on the asphalt. "You weren't kidding," they gasped, chest heaving. "It... it never ends."

"Mm-hmm." Longfellow nodded. "Best to stick together, or you'll lose track of the ground. Crash straight into the surf like a drunken radgull."

The sole survivor smiled between their deep breaths. "Have you ever seen a radgull get drunk?"

"Once or twice. Not a pretty picture."

Porter Gage: The first time Porter Gage laid eyes on the scared wastelander, they had just shuffled off the shuttle from the Commonwealth into the Gauntlet. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, staring at the security cameras that tracked the progress of hapless adventurers - an ordinary mark, except for the wings they were lugging around like so much dead weight. He could only imagine what Colter was going to say, if they made it all the way to the bumper cars arena.

The Gauntlet was a narrow walk, with barely any room to spread your arms out, let alone a pair of wings as large as the ones the vault dweller was sporting. If that wasn't enough, the chain link fencing and barbed wire that the raiders had used to enshroud the outside sections was more than enough to discourage them from trying to take flight. By the time the newcomer made it to the final staging area, Gage was wondering if they even could fly, or if those wings were just for show.

Colter was thrilled, of course, and completely wrapped up in this latest symbol of his own might. It wasn't hard to slip the vault dweller the tip about the Thirst Zapper while the Overboss was hyping up the crowd, spewing shit about clipping the wings of God's angels himself. The Operators were making larger bets than they ever had, pulling out piles of caps and shouting over the crowd whether they backed the Overboss or the Angel, the Pack members present were claiming the winged intruder as an honorary member even if they were about to get their wings ripped off, and several of the Disciples were already begging to be the one who got to dissect the freak of nature when the dust had settled. Gage kept his mouth shut throughout, hoping against hope that his face didn't look too guilty.

He needn't have worried, though. Gage knew the fight was won the second the vault dweller burst from the locker room, a whirlwind of feathered wings and improvised weaponry. The crowd screamed, RedEye roared his approval, and Colter's laugh shook the arena. "Think you're some sort of messenger, some higher power? Ha!"

The wastelander smiled and pulled the Thirst Zapper from their belt. "The only message I bring is death, Overboss. And I'm here for you."

Elder Arthur Maxson: The Prydwen and its vertibirds had been the only things in the sky as the Brotherhood advanced north, or at least the only things that posed any kind of threat. Elder Arthur Maxson took to visiting the airship's forecastle during his free hours to watch the empty skyscrapers sweep by below them, to watch the radgulls wheel along the coast.

He made a point to be out there as the Prydwen approached the ruins of Boston, another broken metropolis on the horizon that held a sinister threat somewhere within it. The young Elder was looking over a rusty satellite dish array, deep in thought about the Institute's potential methods of concealment, when he was interrupted by a flapping noise and a thump on the grating behind him.

Maxson spun around. His eyes widened. Standing on the walkway was a wastelander in a vault suit and combat armor, unremarkable in appearance but for the feathered wings that stretched out at their sides, each one longer than he was tall. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" they demanded.

Maxson glanced around. No alarms had been sounded, no Knights had come onto the walkway. He was on his own. "Elder Arthur Maxson, leader of the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel," he answered truthfully. "I believe we announced our intentions upon our approach."

The vault dweller scoffed. "'Do not interfere, our intentions are peaceful'? That tells me nothing. What are you doing in the Commonwealth that you don't want me to interfere with?"

"I am not inclined to give you that information so freely," Maxson countered. "For all I know, you could be an agent of those I seek to wage war upon."

"It's the Institute, isn't it?" The vault dweller folded their wings up and took a step forward. "You're after them, too."

Maxson hesitated. His eyes were drawn to the impossible instruments of flight that this wastelander was using. Not machine, but certainly not a product of nature, either. "Explain yourself, civilian. What exactly are you?"

The vault dweller folded their arms, too. "You first, Elder. I think we might share an enemy, but I've never heard of a Brotherhood of Steel."

Desdemona: The agents of the Railroad were full of theories about this vault dweller's arrival and what it might mean, but Desdemona paid them no mind. The last thing her organization needed now was more attention on itself, and a winged shadow over Boston was the least of their worries. They were still recovering from the losses at the Switchboard, still trying to move their cargo out of the region without attracting the attention of increasingly-common Courser and synth patrols, still trying to survive when most of the Commonwealth was against them.

So when the sole survivor knocked in the door of the tomb that sheltered HQ, Desdemona was furious. She didn't care about their reputation, their allies, the great wings that curled over their shoulders: She wanted to nail them to the catacomb wall with her railway rifle for their hubris. "Get out," she hissed, already mapping out the next place she could move her operations to. "Whatever you have to say is not worth the trouble you will cause us."

They had the audacity to look wounded, and the feathers on their back ruffled anxiously. "But I thought-"

Desdemona planted her feet and took aim. Drummer Boy and Glory followed her lead, but as usual, Deacon was on a different page. "Dez, give them a chance," he suggested. "They might surprise you."

"I hate surprises," Desdemona shot back, refusing to lower her gun. "If it were any other wastelander standing in front of me, I'd hear them out, but there is no way that someone as visible as them can bring us anything but grief."

The sole survivor raised their hands slowly. "Sure. I get it. I just thought that you were looking to help synths."

The tone they said it in was a familiar one. Desdemona's rifle faltered for a second. "You're a synth?"

"Um." The sole survivor jerked a thumb over their shoulder. "I don't think these come standard on most humans. My best guess is that I'm some kind of prototype. I know I attract a lot of attention and that's not how you work, but I still want to help."

Deacon looked smug, and Desdemona made a mental note to chew him out about withholding information from her later. "Are you vouching for them?" she demanded to know.

"Yes." Deacon crossed his arms. "Definitely."

"Then they're your problem." Desdemona dropped the nose of her rifle and turned, leaving the dusty circle of the entrance's spotlights. "And if I hear that any of our operations have been compromised because of your pet project's celebrity status, I will shoot them out of the sky myself."

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #companions react #sole survivor #12 days of ficmas #merry christmas

[gojocumdumpster]

Lending out a helping hand 2

You had woke up Gojo's arm's wrapped around you, you rolled your eyes and slowly pulled them off as you were ready to make breakfast. You got up brushed your teeth, washed your face and headed out to check on the twins. They were still sleeping with there white noise on. You closed the door gently and went to the kitchen. You decide to make French toast with eggs and bacon. So that's what you did. You started plating the food for you and Gojo. You got out the twins silicone plates as they had 4 sections you sliced the French toast into little strips "French toast sticks" you broke the bacon and half and placed it on the same section with the eggs and the other side had mixed fruits Gojo had bought the other day so you gave them in a scoop of those you poured orange juice for you and Gojo and half a cup of apple juice for the twins and filled the rest with purified water because little kids need water not just juices.

It was 10:30 in the morning and you heard gojo walking out shirtless as usual. You looked at him and look back at what you were doing. He had went behind you and hugged you from behind, gripping your tits before you could kick him. 'Yes I got to touch them!" He says dodging your kick and bacon you threw at him. "Keep fucking with me Gojo and watch what happens your gonna be nut-less and have no balls at all." You say threating with him pointing a knife at him. "I think i'm getting blue balls." He says smirking at you. "GOJO I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU." You say chasing him with the knife. Few minutes later everyone was eating, you ate in the kitchen because Gojo kept kicking you. "The twins are heading with Grandma for 2 weeks, so it'll just be us 2." He said winking at you. You stuck up the middle fingers when the twins weren't looking at you. His grandma had just picked the 2 up and it was time for both you and Gojo to go to work.

You were trying to get ready, but someone doesn't know how to turn around and stop staring. "Gojo." You say with one hand up ready to hit him. "Okay okay, don't hit me those things are deadly. You guys make it to work and had a meeting once work was over with Nanami. Gojo was known as the troublemaker and would piss you and Nanami off. You and Nanami thought you guys were safe until Gojo had made a comment. "What do you guys think about having a 3some?" Gojo said excitedly. You and Nanami left closing the door on him. Work was done and you guys had already took a bathe. It didn't end up so well. "GOJO PUT THAT SHIT DOWN." You said as he had a scooped water from the bathe tub trying to throw it at you. Yeah you guys were splashing each other like crazy.

You had enough and sat on top of his abs. "I TOLD YOU TO STO-" He had gripped your hips and grabbed your ass spreading them apart. You had smacked him hard and he let go and you got up. Sticking your tongue out. And walking out with your towel. "Hey wait you can't leave me like this you have to help me!" He said covering himself with a towel having a boner. "Yea I can help you by kicking your dick until it's soft." He shook his head no and put his sweats on. being shirtless again. You had wore your spaghetti strap shirt and shorts. He looked at your perky nipples as they were getting hard from the cold air. "Such a great view!" He said staring at them. You rolled your eyes and sat down on the couch ready to have movie night that he begged to have. You guys were in the middle of watching a movie until a sex scene turned on. He looked at you with a smirk and you side eyed him. He paused the movie. "What now Gojo." You said rolling your eyes. "Have you ever thought of 2 best friends fucking? He said looking at you. "No.." You said looking at him annoyed . "You want to make it happen" He said as he slowly got hard.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #gojo brainrot #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu gojo

[spockandawe]

Awkward gap until next meeting. So. Things i COULD make on short notice

Software manual book(s): Easy. Mindless. Boring, but useful. I have at least two more targets in my sights, but i also have three half-finished books just waiting for cricut titles.

Long transformers essay: the formatting from pdf...... all the images........... but WHAT IF

Ylpeys ja ennakkoluulo: Needs learning time in Affinity, unsure how long formatting will take. Possible, also something likely to tank my sleep schedule.

Thousand Autumns: current doc has long stretches of half-edited mtl. That's. That would be a big compromise. I don't like it, I think I'd rather wait

Coming Up With A Villain Reformation Strategy: No proofread? It'd be fast. Unsure what commitment proofreading would be.

Peerless Immortal Surrounded By Demonic Disciples: Same issue.

Single-volume mxtx: Maybe. If I'm repeating myself i want something novel tho

Yuwu: Maybe? Same proofreading question, but this was a really good translation

Raksura fic: mmmmmmmmmmaybeeeeee. It's still actively updating though, it feels a little silly to commit a second time knowing it'll immediately be dated 🤣

PoF: maybe! Wouldn't be bad to at least format some pages for illumination practice even if I can't do much there yet.

New box????? Mysterious and vague, brut boxes make me happy

Writing

Raksura fic: I could :X Okay but this depends on me chipping at some short vignettes and either getting a full set done or being confident i have momentum to continue as i post chapters. Momentum is a gamble, especially since this is a destination wedding with vacation activities.

Bwx/xl: old wip, unsure how satisfied i am. But there was PROGRESS. I might be able to slam it out

Return to tlj shipping? No wips in progress, but he usually comes easily to me.

Brand new raksura fic: i have kink brainstorming i could try to leverage, but I really, really can't tell how well writing will go right now

Cronch fic: Oh.... That might work, ill have to look at that.

Ye olde svsss aus: restore diet bingge to second person, see if more scenes shake out. This is close to being something I'm willing to just post, but it's not QUITE got enough connective tissue. Finishing is probably outside the scope of "short notice" tho

Transcription. Also not short notice, but pleasing bite-sized chunks.

Art

Raksura

Cloun?????

Bones

Fiber

Other baby blanket: I'm.... Unmotivated. Crochet make hand hurty

Tardigrade: hand hurty is acceptable if the result is stuffed tardigrade. I need to find my safety eyes, though

Starscream cross-stitch: DEFINITELY not short notice, but very satisfying

Embroidery embroidery: Probably want to wait for better health, so I don't get frustrated.

Steering wheel cover: yes, probably, but that's a kit and won't scratch the sammmmme creative urges

Spinning: god, probably wait for better health and new house

Long furby: maybe do this BEFORE the move, tbh. But mystery time investment.

New applique quilt: also not short notice. Need a subject too. I feel like I'd had something in mind, but I'm drawing a blank.

#crafts #notes to self

[quinnharperwrites]

The Isles of Blirrosia: Chapter One

Taglist: @anonymousfoz, @kaiarchives, and @awleeofficial Let me know if you want to be added!

Note: Feedback is very much desired! This is my first major work since I took a break; even if it's a little note about a part you liked or didn't like, it'll make me very happy. At least people are reading it, haha. Also, I am still looking for a beta reader. If you're interested, please message me. Finally, I might edit the earlier chapters and repost them, but I will be clear that it's the edited version. Thank you and enjoy!

Next Chapter >

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a cloudy, crisp Monday morning in January, yet it was fair and still. Pleasant. It was warmer from the top of the city rooftops, but Saffron didn’t mind. She sat on the edge of the roof of a random office building, her feet swinging in excitement over the bustling rush hour traffic. Normally, she would be in her Hero Ethics class, but she was called in to cover a hero today. Something she’d done multiple times in the past. But this time was different.

Recently, there has been a supervillain causing trouble in the city. From Saffron’s perspective, he was pretty inadequate, which was partly the reason why the Hero Association decided it was safe enough for a student to help out. Her job was to patrol the city and keep an eye out for suspicious activity. They had given her a proper file and a walkie-talkie—she’s never gotten them before! Normally, she would team up with a hero and stop a petty crime. But those were kinda on the police department's level.

“We got a bank robbery on 86th and Second. Witness descriptions match the Stardust Absorber. Over.”

“Finally.” Her first active bank robbery. Today was going to be a good day.

Saffron lifted her feet on the rooftop edge, then launched herself off. She let herself freefall for a moment, relishing in the addicting feeling of being weightless. Completely vulnerable. But before her ears could pop from the rapid descent, she raised her arms as straight as possible and summoned black aura spheres in both of her open palms. Then, she willed the aura to wrap around her body, lift her into the sky, and take off in the direction of the robbery. She reached for her walkie-talkie to respond to the police department.

“Hero student: Aura. On my way. Over.”

Contrary to the general public’s belief, there is no traction in the air. She wasn’t sure how it was for other aptitudes that allow flight, but in her case, she had to use her aura to push off molecules in the air. Since the process is invisible to the eye, it looks like she’s flying effortlessly when it takes a lot of concentration.

Since Saffron had just sacrificed a decent amount of her concentration on responding to the walkie-talkie, she suffered the consequences by nearly crashing into a billboard. 

“Ugh,” Saffron groaned. “The press is going to have a field day with this.” She took a few moments to redirect herself, then sped off faster to make up for lost time.

As she neared the bank, Saffron caught a glimpse of a white blur also heading towards the location. The murky feeling of dread crept up her sides as her feet touched the pavement outside the bank. The aura diminished in a way that was only possible due to hours of training. 

“Aura! Over here!” an officer called out. 

“I’m here!” Saffron replied. “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve confirmed that it is the Stardust Absorber. No hostages, but after what happened last time, we decided to secure the perimeter and wait for a hero to arrive.” This was normal; she usually helped with the perimeter. But she was cut short before she could ask about where she was wanted.

“Sensation is on scene. Aura, assist him.” Another officer and a hero clad in white join the conversation. Just her luck. Only Sensation could taint the experience of being able to participate in taking down a bank robber. Why couldn’t have it been Steela or Water Jelly instead?

The hero-student duo made their way to the bank.

“Remember. No direct attacks,” Sensation said.

“I remember. I was told.”

Just making sure, Saffy.” 

Saffy?

“We’re working right now, Sensation. Right now, it’s Aura. Off-field, it’s Saffron to you. Only people close to me can call me Saffy.”

“Aren’t we close, Saffy?”

They are approaching the doors at this point. “It’s Aura. And no.” 

“But we can be,” he teased.

“No! We aren’t close, and we certainly aren’t friends. I’ve told you so many ti-”

“Now is the time to focus, Aura. We’re in the middle of a bank robbery,” he interrupted.

Saffron huffed but gritted her teeth in determination. At least he wasn’t talking anymore. In the corner of her eye, she saw Sensation enhance his muscles. So he was going physical. She summoned a black aura around herself and let it seep into her muscles. Almost instantly, she felt the increase in energy. 

They entered the bank. The pair turned their backs toward each other and faced outward. Then, they made their way to the center of the bank.

“Let’s split up to cover more ground,” Sensation ordered. 

Saffron made a sound of agreement before making her way to the upper level of the bank. It circled the building like an indoor balcony. She noticed the dangling crystal decoration hanging from the ceiling. 

She opened the first door on the left and emptied her head. Everyone has an aura tied to their physical body in the Aurasphere, and unless they have an aptitude to conceal it, Saffron could always use it to detect someone. It took a significant amount of concentration to focus on the Aurasphere. But this is what she trained for. 

“Clear!” she called out.

She checked the next room. “Clear!”

After analyzing heroes in class, she deduced that Sensation preferred a stealthier approach. But students are required to regularly call out the status of their search in case something happens. 

Three more rooms were checked. Three more rooms were cleared.

Saffron opened a door near the center of the balcony. Just as she entered the Aurasphere, she detected an aura quickly heading in her direction. 

She hastily exited the Aurasphere and grounded herself. A green man in a Halloween goblin costume was launched into the air, about to punch her. What a joke.

She grabbed his forearm and swung him to the ground out in the hallway.

“Found him!” she called out.

The Stardust Absorber quickly got up and rushed at her. 

Saffron swung one fist at him, then the other. He dodged both. 

Sensation jumped up from the ground floor to the upper level. He was running to join the fight. But he was too far away.

She kicked her left leg toward the Absorber’s head. He dodged. But she was already driving her right leg towards his neck. The Absorber recoiled to her right. She hit him with a right hook twice. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sensation standing to the side. Supervising. They both knew she had this clown under control.

The Absorber finally hit her back with his arm, causing her to fall. But before she could faceplant, she caught herself with her hands and attacked him with a flurry of kicks to the head. He was able to dodge a couple with his wrists, but he ultimately was struck by most of them. 

She ended the blitz attack by propelling herself off the ground with her hands and pounding his face with a two-foot kick. She flipped backward and gracefully landed on her feet in a fighting stance. A moment later, he plummeted to the floor with a thud. 

“Don’t you think that last part was a bit showy?”

“You’re one to talk.” 

Just when she thought he was down for good, the Stardust Absorber pushed himself off the ground, stood up, and hurled himself at her with a screech.

When he got close, Saffron propelled her right leg towards the side of his face, then she left, and then her right again. She continued the cycle until she dipped her upper body down to gain momentum and swung her left leg towards his torso. 

Upon impact, he was sent flying and ended up getting tangled in the hanging crystal decoration. 

“What an amateur. Didn’t even get my heart pumping. I’m disappointed.”

After she said this, the Absorber increased his efforts to escape, resulting in him getting tangled further.

“Maybe we should try to get him to be used as practice at your university.”

“Who’s we? And that’s an insult.”

“Of course, it is, Miss Top-Of-Her-Class.” He chuckled and called for the police to make the arrest. “Let’s go get some coffee, Saffy. I can file the ROHA later. And I’ll cover you,” he baited.

“No. Stop asking me out, Matteo. And stop sending me flowers.”

“But you keep them every time.”

“That’s only because I—ugh, never mind. I don’t have time for this. I’m going to be late for class.” She flew past the officers and out the door. Trying to refocus, she landed on the roof, released the aura, and did a breathing exercise. “In for four, hold for seven, and out for eight. Don’t let him get to you, Saffron.”

Once calm, Saffron engulfed herself in the familiar black aura and soared toward school.

______________________________________________________________

“Gotcha now, Absorber. Gonna put cha’ away for a long time.” Two cops held the villain by his arms as they shoved him over the police car.

“Yeah, tell ‘em, Marv! I’d be embarrassed if I were him. Sensation and Aura were barely in there for ten minutes! Hah!”

“Got anythin’ to say for yourself, Absorber?”

“That’s not my name,” the green foe growled.

“Huh?” 

“I said,” he repeated, “That’s not. My. Name.”

“Alright, then. What do you wanna call yourself?”

“Draven!” 

“Gesundheit.”

“I didn’t sneeze, you incompetent oaf! That’s my name. Draven!”

The two cops looked at each other, then at Draven, and then back at each other before bursting with laughter.

“Ahahaha! Harry! Ya hear that?” Marv wheezed. “He calls himself Draven!”

“What a moron!”

“Stop laughing! You should be cowering at the mention of my name!” At this, the two cops howled with laughter even more.

“Alright, alright,” Harry chuckled. “We read you your Miranda rights already, so just get in the car,” he replied, pushing Draven into the car.

“Draven, hahaha. Can you imagine?”

“Clown costume and everything. Hah!”

Next Chapter >

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writing #writerscommunity #writers #writblr #writers of tumblr #writing wip #wip: isles of blirrosia #wip: blirrosia #blirrosia #isles of blirrosia #superhero #fiction #quinn harper #quinn harper writes #content writing #original writing #original wip #WIP #creative writing #am writing #oc #original characters

[its-stupidhours]

happy valentine's day!!! here's a bit (read: basically a whole (albeit short) scene) from my "big smir fic" -- this was written a while back (I want to say some time last summer?) but I've been working on the fic again recently and this scene is in the chapter I've been focusing on and it is. disgustingly sweet. also it literally takes place on valentine's day. enjoy :)

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Tanner said immediately. “Why?”

“I want to show you something.” Fir took Tanner’s hand and started leading him away. “Come on. It’ll be cool, I promise.”

“Ok?”

Fir dragged him back to the greenhouse, only to pause once they entered. “Wait, shit, I forgot it was a mess in here.” He chuckled sheepishly as he started tidying his lab. “Give me a minute, hold on.”

“Take your time.” Tanner occupied himself with walking around the workspace and inspecting the various ingredients and tools he came across. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been in here before, so. At least, not since the curse broke.”

“Wait, really?” Fir glanced over at him with a smile. “Even better, actually. Sorry it’s not much, but—”

“No, it’s cool!” Tanner stopped walking, standing tall in the middle of the greenhouse. “It’s really cool.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so.” Fir finally finished his tidying up. He put his hands on his hips and looked over his slightly-cleaner lab with pride. “There we go! And now for the actual thing I wanted to show you.”

“Right, that. What is it?”

“A potion!”

“I’ve kinda guessed that at this point,” Tanner chuckled. “But what does it do?”

Fir shot him a sly smile. “You’ll see.”

He had prepared most of it beforehand, but there were still a few finishing touches to complete. Tanner walked over and looked over Fir’s shoulder as he combined two mixtures into a singular vial, then held the mixture tightly in his hands to warm it up. When he let go, the potion went from a light green to a bright, clear blue — then suddenly flashed pure black before finally settling as completely clear with waves of iridescence shimmering within.

"That should do it." Fir held the bottle up to the light and swirled it around a little, looking back at Tanner with a grin once he felt satisfied with what he saw. Tanner was still just staring, enraptured, at the vial. "Give me your hand?"

Tanner didn't move for a moment, unsure, but he slowly put his hand out nonetheless. "Ok?"

Fir gently held it in front of him. "Now, don't freak out…"

"You saying that makes me freak out more."

Fir chuckled. "Fair. But seriously, it shouldn't hurt, and it'll wash off after, don't worry. Just look."

And with that, he tipped the bottle over and poured the contents out on Tanner's hand. Tanner flinched at the sudden cool feeling, then stood, frozen, staring wide-eyed at his hand. As the potion ran down, almost like ink in the way it moved, it covered each spot it touched with invisibility. More revealed, then, than covered. Fir looked up and felt a spark in his chest at the sight of Tanner's face flooded with unabashed awe. It was a sight he would never get tired of.

"Oh, wow," Tanner whispered. He held his hand up — or, well, he held what appeared to be the stump of his wrist up, until he turned his hand over and the palm was once again visible. He laughed a little as he curled and uncurled his fingers over and over — invisible, then visible, invisible, then visible. "This is so cool."

Fir grinned proudly. "Yeah?"

"Oh, absolutely. It…" Tanner caught Fir's eye and grinned back. "The things you're able to do with magic… I've never even dreamed of something like this, it's amazing."

He held his hand up, watching intently as a drop of the potion ran down his arm, turning another streak transparent. Then he looked back up at his hand, turning it sideways to marvel at the line between invisibility and visibility. 

Fir just watched, unable to look away himself — not from the potion, but from Tanner. The soft curve of his absent-minded smile, how parts of his hair stuck together from the melted snow, the way his eyes would flicker up and down to track the potion; Fir drank in every detail he could without even realizing he was doing it.

“I have more,” Fir said after… some amount of time. He wasn’t really sure, and he didn’t really care.

Tanner’s eyes were glowing. “Really?”

“Of course, dude,” Fir chuckled. “That’s kind of my whole thing. The sink’s over by the door, by the way.” He turned back to his desk to look for the next thing he wanted to show off: the lighter potion that would allow him to make a flame with a snap of his fingers.

“Thanks,” Tanner said, “I’m almost tempted to not wash it off.” Fir could hear the water running; for a second that was the only sound in the greenhouse. “I thought you were working on your thesis, though? When did you have time for all this?”

“Oh, I mean, I am!” Fir gave a weary laugh. “I am pretty much constantly working on my thesis. I didn’t come up with the recipe for that potion from scratch, I learned it a long time ago from this, like, teen’s book of cool potions to show off to your friends. And, uh, I know you like magic, and I know you’re my friend, so I wanted to show it off to you! Take a bit of a break for an hour or so. My thesis can wait.”

Fir finally found it. He turned around to see Tanner staring at him with a — bewildered? conflicted? curious? — look on his face, the invisibility potion washed off and the sink no longer running.

“What?” Fir asked.

Tanner stared at him for a second longer, then smiled and shook his head. “I don’t get you sometimes.” There was a beat. “Thank you."

#my posts #my fics #that big smir fic #smir #uhh for context: it's an au where fir is a witch who does potions and tanner was cursed #i won't spoil the curse for now #though it is possible i have talked about it at some other point #by which i mean i have talked about it at some other point but i'll leave it as a mystery here #anyways. no clue when this monster will be done #i'm well over the halfway point but who knows how long it'll actually be #the feburary chap is also almost done btw #when i scheduled this post a week ago the chapter still had like a dozen scenes left to write #now there's two (2) #possibly less by the time this goes up tomorrow if my writing session goes well today #it's so surreal

[cosmiccinnabun]

Mmm another prompt that has been floating in and out of my brain for a few weeks is once Kallus physically joins the rebellion, Zeb finding out that for the past two decades his meals have consisted almost solely of Imperial ration bars. So he makes a hard change to that. Because oh no. We don't have ration bars in the rebellion... only... home-cooked meals.... you have to eat it man, it'll go to waste :)

OHHHH BOY YES!!!!! I uh got a bit carried away with this one 😅 sorry to the original ask if I went a bit overboard with his size but I just can’t help myself!!!!

“Wait, so you’ve been on ration bars that long?!”

“Yes… wasn’t much time to really grab a meal or fix one myself.”

“Karabast…” Zeb said in response, sitting back in his seat.

Kallus and Zeb had spent most of the night talking in the commissary. It had only been a few days since Kallus had officially defected and joined the rebellion. In that time he had mostly kept close to Zeb, not really wanting to make a scene with all of the looks he had gotten. It was that night when they had gotten to talking about family meals that Kallus finally divulged that he hadn’t had a properly cooked meal in quite sometime. The notion seemed to horrify the lasat. “Well Kriff, Kal, We’re gonna have to fix that!” Kallus couldn’t help but blush. He loved when Zeb called him “Kal.”

“It’s alright, really, I don’t want to-“

“From now on, imma be cooking your meals! Lasat grub is some of the best you can eat!”

Kallus try to interject. “Zeb, really it’s fine-“

“Nah no ration bars from you from here on out. No wonder you’ve gotten skinny! Let’s put some meat on ya!” Zeb said with a large grin. Kallus couldn’t help a small smile, finding the man’s care and affection towards him very intoxicating.

“…Alright. I’ll let you cook for me.”

[several months later]

Kallus groaned after a particularly large feast Zeb had prepared for him. He couldn’t stop a loud belch from escaping his lips as he tried to pull his shirt down to cover his gut. His face burned in embarrassment.

“Good, wasn’t it?” Zeb said cheerfully. The lasat was working on cleaning some of the dirty dishes off of the table of their little dormitory.

“Y-Yes it was… Garazeb don’t you *urp!* Gah don’t you think we’ve been… overdoing it?” Kallus managed to say, slowly looking down at his belly. Zeb frowned.

“What do you mean by that?”

Kallus cringed slightly. It had been weeks upon weeks of gorging himself on Zeb’s delicious cooking. Months of fatty foods and delicious desserts… and they had already taken their toll on Kallus’s waistline. The former imperial now sported a prominent gut. His thighs and ass had grown thicker, not to mention he had began to notice his face rounding out as well. He honestly couldn’t tell if Zeb was just adorably oblivious or just playing dumb to help his feelings.

“I’ve gotten a bit… chubby.” Kallus said carefully. He thought that if he said it out loud himself, it would soften the blow a bit better. Zeb’s response surprised him.

“…And? So what?”

Kallus blinked in confusion. “Uh, I just-“

“Kal, I said I’d put some meat on ya! Little chub never hurt anyone! Looks good on ya!” He walked over and gave the human a kiss on the cheek.

“I… I suppose so… I haven’t really minded…”

“See? Now… you still got some food left… better finish it, or it’ll go to waste…”

[several more months later]

Kallus huffed and panted heavily as he waddled his way towards the couch, leaning heavily on the cane he used to help get him the short distance from the kitchen he had just left. Kallus gave a moan of relief as he gladly planted himself on the couch, the piece of furniture giving a very loud creak of protest at the massive man’s weight.

Kallus had grown morbidly obese from the regular eating schedule his now fiancé had him on. Always being fed the most fattening lasat dishes, it was an inevitability that he would reach this point. Kallus’s huge gut expanded out before him, spilling well past his lap, his now large breast sitting heavily on top of his belly. . He rested his flabby arms over the back of the couch as relaxed. He suddenly felt a pair of hands begin to slowly massage his shoulders and tender kisses being planted on the back of his neck.

“Mm… how my favorite big man doing today?~” Zeb purred, reaching over Kallus from behind so he could begin kneading at the man’s moobs like a lothcat. Kallus groaned and licked his lips.

“Hungry… that walk from the kitchen… takes a lot out of me…” he panted. Zeb cooed and gave his fat cheek a kiss.

“Aw poor thing… I told ya, you should just let me get your snacks for ya~” The lasat chuckled.

“Think I might… t-take you up on that from now on…” Kallus said, sounding excited.

Zeb nodded in agreement “That’s right~ you don’t have to lift a finger, love~ all you have to do is relax…”

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem, Zeb… not eager to get up…” Kallus gave his gut a light shake “Carrying over 600 pounds of me around is exhausting~” Zeb’s ears perked up at the display his future husband put on for him. The lasat buried his face in Kallus’s neck fat.

“Fuck, Kal, I love that you like being like this…”

“I do… and I love that you love it~ I figured early on that you liked your men fat~” Kallus said, his face growing even warmer. Zeb grinned at him and planted a full, unhindered kiss on Kallus’s lips.

“Heh you know, if you really are gonna marry me, you should know that you’re gonna get a hell of a lot fatter than you are now…” Kallus couldn’t help but moan at his words.

“I-I know…” Kallus breathed “I want to get as fat as you want me to be… *need* me to be…” He meant it with every word he said. He knew Zeb wanted him hundreds of more pounds fatter than he was now. He wanted it too. Zeb gave Kallus’s moobs another good squeeze and growled.

“Wont be needing that cane in a few months, babe… imma get us a nice big, reinforced bed in our new place for you to lounge on… and I’ll take care of your every need~” Kallus couldn’t help but pull Zeb into another passionate kiss.

After a few minutes of making out, both men broke the kiss.

“Could you check the kitchen for leftovers, Garazeb?” Kallus asked breathlessly “Wouldn’t want to waste a good home-cooked meal~”

#ficlet #weight gain #extreme weight gain #fat kallus #chubby kallus #alexander kallus #garazeb orrelios #zeb orrelios #kalluzeb #again sorry if I went overboard #I just love the idea of Kallus getting fatter and fatter over the course of their relationship #it’s my favorite #I just think he should be incredibly fat

[cboffshore]

What a shame the poor groom's bride is a... plot device. This is "All I Wanted To Hear."

For his third wish, the only one that ever actually mattered: something to love, I think. Something that isn't himself.

As I've discussed previously (not in this series, just in general), a common critique I see about Nadakhan is that he's a little too erratic. And, yeah, that comes out on any casual Skybound rewatch: his master plan is kept under wraps until past the halfway point, his respect for his crew wavers from being touched at their support to screaming at them every five minutes, and we're never quite sure if he actually loves his home realm or if he just wanted to become some kind of urban legend by going home. This, naturally, leads to complications: in order to maintain a facade of respectability, he covers all of his idiosyncrasies up with an utterly batshit terraforming plan that only has minor relevancy to his ultimate goal. In other words, he exercises those first two wishes I analyzed - notoriety and control - in excess to cover up the third, softest one: love. An actual, loving relationship that he's not ashamed of somehow.

Because, let's be real: does his crew actually love him?

Jury's out on this one, and unless we ever get more of The Splinter in the Blind Man's Eye or some kind of Nadakhan revival season, it'll likely stay that way. The Tall Tales shorts, if accepted as canon (a massive if!), don't even answer the question. Most of the crew's recruitment shorts read as begrudging submission at best (Flintlocke and Dogshank) and near-indentured servitude at worst (Doubloon and Monkey Wretch). Clancee joins through sheer luck, and only because he's attracted to the pirate lifestyle itself, not to Nadakhan's leadership. I refuse to acknowledge the Sqiffy/Bucko short's existence, but their canon induction is much the same as Clancee's: they show up, fuck around, and find out. The shorts, fortunately, aren't canon (two words: electric drill); the only reason I'm considering them here is that they're just close enough to the canon blurbs to fill in the cracks in the meantime. Their loyalty is held on with bubblegum and a wish no matter how you look at it.

Canon or not, the shorts don't address Delara. The season doesn't, either - at least, not in a way we can see clearly.

It's well-established that Nadakhan is very secretive about what he actually wants, and for the first nine episodes or so, Delara falls into that category: he deflects any mentions of her by others on his crew, almost so quickly as to imply it's a weakness of his. Still, he can't avoid it entirely - stolen moments with his pocketwatch (snapped shut the moment anyone else arrives) and his obsession with Nya based solely on her resemblance to Delara prove this. As hard as he fights to hide that, others notice - Flintlocke's criticism comes to mind, but even Jay comments that the way Nadakhan looks at Nya is peculiar. Look what happens in both instances: Nadakhan, although not present for the actual conversation, sweeps in immediately to shelve that discussion and inflict pain on whoever brings it up. And once there's nobody left to remind Nadakhan of his grief - once the wedding party's been banished or driven out of the temple - his first personal wish is to bring her back.

Strangely, this... doesn't help. Their reunion scene is almost awkward, honestly. We open with Nadakhan in disbelief that it actually worked, which is weird considering how unshakable he was about the plan before, but that's not the concerning part. The most damning evidence of Nadakhan's desperate need to be loved comes in the second part of the reunion scene in this incredible exchange:

Nadakhan: Do you forgive me, Delara?

Delara: You did what you had to do, so that we could become all-powerful.

Nadakhan: But do you still love me?

Delara: Of course. How many times must you ask?

This was scream-into-a-pillow frustrating for me the first time I thought it through, and it remains so to this day. Now? After all the stalking, manipulation, kidnapping, and psychological stress he put Nya through to get to this point - now he's doubting it? The moment he succeeds and pulls his beloved back from beyond the veil, he starts questioning his own morality? And he does so to the point that Delara - who might, if her casual tone is any indication, be worse than Nadakhan - has to reassure him that he doesn't need to keep asking? Imagine the irony of wanting to be loved so badly that the things you do for that make you wonder if you're worthy - but only after the fact.

And then the Keep crashes into the temple and the bravado goes right back up. When Delara's spirit is torn from Nya's body, Nadakhan says her name one last time... but that's it.

That's all.

----------

It's no secret that both Nya and Delara's characters get the short end of the stick here. With Delara, it almost makes sense: she's included as a plot device. She's Nadakhan's lost Lenore, his green light across the bay; losing her is the inevitable low point of Nadakhan's fall from grace.

All the official information we get on her is that she's important only because she so strongly resembles someone we know a little better: Nya.

Either here or elsewhere - I'm no longer sure - I've spoken of the accidental perfection of Nya's place in Nadakhan's schemes. Her seasonal arc centers on her striking out and trying to find herself; Nadakhan wants to tear that away from her, but without even caring if that means anything to her in the first place. Unlike how other villains treat the ninja, there's no desire to strip her water power here, or taunt Nya for some personal grudge. (I mean, the grudge does exist, but Nadakhan never acknowledges it.) Here, it's all about appearances: Nya conveniently looks like Delara. Whatever traits Nadakhan tries to sweet-talk Nya with don't actually matter. She's a warm body for the taking. The fact that she's associated with his realm's death is a bonus, and probably the only reason Nadakhan went for her and not for, say, Cyren. That Nadakhan would go to such lengths just to use Nya is simply another sign of his desperation.

Nya's treatment at the end of this season is awful, even seven years later. Plot-appropriate? Sure. Honestly, I think it works, but it doesn't change the fact that I feel that Nya was shortchanged. In that spirit, there was really no other way to evaluate her role but via a heavy remix of the canon wedding dress (which Nya's right about: that thing is hideous.) There are touches of Nadakhan analysis in here, too, but given that Nya was the catalyst, most of this rides on what the season should have highlighted about her importance beyond her haircut.

If we're going to lean so heavily on visual significance, let's at least get it right this time:

As a way to honor Nya's vehement dislike for dresses, I built this outfit around an ivory jumpsuit. Although the rest of the outfit looks like it was attacked by a coffee frother, this sleek layer calls to mind the athletic lines of Nya's seasonal gi and her efficient, determined personality. It also references her final fate with vein-like, venom green spiderweb embroidery blossoming out from the chest.

An ivory jacket serves to anchor the entire outfit, both physically (to stabilize all of the other elements) and metaphorically. Sharp shoulders, layered hip accents, and solid gold lapels call to mind the royal armor worn by both Nadakhan and his father - a nod at the canon dress' origin. The hems, sleeves, and lapel borders feature intricate sky-blue embroidery as an alternative to the massive blue flowers on the canon gown.

A fragile yet suffocatingly heavy floral lace train and layered bell sleeves dominate this ensemble and cover whatever the jumpsuit and jacket don't, representing how Nya's body and identity are slowly taken over by desires that aren't her own. However, that grip is as fragile as Nadakhan's security in Delara's love - look close and you'll find the whole thing held together by little more than delicate golden piping, liable to rip apart the moment anything shifts. (I should mention that I did not hand-draw the lace - I'm nowhere near skilled enough for that. Instead, I did a little digging on Google and found this excellent file with built-in transparency, which I colored over and cut to size: blueJAY2's "Lace" on DeviantArt .)

Blue lace gloves, almost lost in the riot of finery around them, are a reference to the hand imagery that Nya's torn apart by throughout the season. There's an interesting phenomenon throughout Skybound that serves as an excellent divider between Jay and Nadakhan: both are insistent on having her, but the subtle differences in their methods are best demonstrated by their dialogue concerning her hands. Jay's line, "Take my hand," is repeated only twice; urgency aside, it offers Nya the ultimate choice in what happens. Those outcomes appear in the premiere and the finale. Nadakhan, however, twists that line and her metaphorical wrist in episode 61 with "Give me your hand and they live," which is phrased as an order that Nya has less of a say in. I chose to use the same filigree texture as the jacket embroidery to represent how Nya attempts to play into Nadakhan's plans for an advantage; however, the color choice betrays this. The blue shade foreshadows one of the few choices Nya's able to make in this season: the choice to accept Jay's hand during the rooftop reset. (Like the lace, the base texture for this one was not my own creation; I have unfortunately lost the exact link, but it was on some kind of weird free PNG site and I ended up snagging it from the Google results page instead of the site itself. Again, I recolored and cut it to fit as needed.)

Gold aiguillettes on the shoulders and top layers of the train are a direct parallel to those in "Sure Of It" as a link between Jay and Nya. Throughout this season, Nya wears her independence as a badge of stubborn honor even when in the worst situations. These ropes, tucked under the lapels and frills of the jacket and train, aren't as obvious as Jay's - a sign of how her role is, sadly, pushed off to the side for most of the season. Still, they're an important part of the outfit: they hold the front of the train open in the same way that Nya's mere presence drives much of the season's action.

The jewelry choices in the original outfit were remarkably dated and didn't match the rest of the ensemble well enough for me - I have a hunch the designers threw the necklace on just to match the bracelet - so I redesigned those, too. Nya's distaste for glitter and gold (which is technically not a thing until Sons of Garmadon, but I like to think it started in Skybound) lends itself nicely to all of these next elements:

The closest element here to the canon jewelry, the gold choker is a heavy reference to the cutthroat pearl necklace that went semi-viral a little while back. Instead of blood and pearls, though, this version soaks the golden spheres of the canon necklace in neon venom droplets and serves as the only asymmetrical part of the outfit.

A pair of drop earrings, fashioned after venom droplets, complement the necklace.

Tucked behind the lapels, a high web collar with blue crystal accents is a blend of the weaknesses of the men trying to overtake her life: the venom that weakens Nadakhan and Jay's vision in the ice. The blue crystal is also a symbol of Nya's new powers and role on the team, although their small size represents how that's not her true motivation.

Given that all of the other jewelry is venom-centric, I don't think I need to explain the spider brooch creeping along the web embroidery.

Nya's brief stint as queen is never mentioned, but it's a thing that does happen; that's represented by a delicate tiara. Of course, she's possessed pretty much immediately after; Delara's acid-green eyes lent me the color scheme for the attached spiderweb veil, a symbol of Nya's thorough, tragic loss of self at the end of the season. For technical reasons, I've chosen to let the tiara and veil dangle from the mannequin's hand instead of placing it on the head. I think this works well, though - the other entries in this analysis series are holding a symbolic item, too, and the placement of this crown represents all the identities Nya holds but isn't able to utilize throughout her arc.

Even though this was my longest entry analysis yet, I don't think I'm quite done. This may be the last entry, but I've got more to say - in the coming weeks, you'll eventually get a wrap-up post summarizing this series and closing things up as neatly as I'm able.

Special thanks to @abunnsburrow, whose Delara Rant reminded me that I needed to post this - and might have influenced this particular analysis.

#ninjago #ninjago skybound #ninjago couture #Yours To Keep: Rethinking Skybound Through Fashion #ninjago nya #ninjago delara #ninjago nadakhan #ninjago fanart #fashion design

[claudiajcregg]

S5 Pregnancy AU - I’d love to hear about!

Welp, this is embarrassing – mostly because this has been sitting in my inbox for almost two weeks, and I kept saying “I need to write something up!” and then… I didn't. (Or rather, I did, then I forgot to post it.) Sorry for the wait, Lil! Thank you for asking <3 (I'll divide this up because I keep writing about the process and how it came to be, instead of any actual, interesting facts.)

I have talked about this one in the past though I don't have a tag for it. The gist is what it says… (Early) S5 but CJ is pregnant. I had this idea over a year ago when I hit mid/late S4 in my rewatch. I thought it'd be interesting to explore some of her disappointment at that time if you added an unexpected pregnancy to it, even if I had the idea before even getting there, lol. Think, the ending-ish of Han, or parts of Disaster Relief. (Both of which do feature! I surprisingly focus a lot on Disaster Relief.)

The thing with S5 is that the timeline is so weird, and I feel I've also created one that isn't entirely realistic but I think it works within the story. (IIRC, the season starts in “May” but also July, then the Shutdown is in November, lmao. A few of the episodes are sneaky two-parters that flow into each other… See 5-6, 7-8.) I've finally gotten out of the no-man's-land I wrote myself into and the next chapter or two, knowing myself, will deal with 7-8! There are a couple of scenes that should be fun to write! (There are so many details I want to mention that are technically spoilers for early twists…)

Every time I had the urge to write it, I'd edit whatever outline I was working in, and though I kept some details… my muse decided to make a big change early on that completely changed the fic's direction. That, and my inability to write anything succinctly. No reason why this story will cross the 100k barrier in a couple of chapters, tops. (It's sitting at 85k across 12 chapters. I think it'll be less than 20 chapters total. Hopefully.)

This might be too long to share snippets, but I've shared some either on the server or here, a couple of months ago.

For more irrelevant details on the “process”…

As I hinted at, I wrote an outline or two around this time last year, because I couldn't stop thinking about it. When I say outlines, it's a general path for the story to follow – ideas, suggestions of dialogue and/or scenes I write to myself; all focused around some sort of chapter structure. I find it much easier to write if I write down where a chapter might go, even if it's just a few lines saying “This happens → then this → finally this;” otherwise, it takes me months. Some would say that I should post it and get encouragement that way but… I hate being dependent on something I can control even less than my muse? That's not for me, thank you. Mad respect for those who work like that.

It was meant to be short – 1-2 “long” chapters per trimester, more if needed, but then interludes in between trimesters. It's not that. Most chapters currently cover 1-2 weeks, but there is not really a pattern. I was afraid of having a fic that would take over my life like the WOWO did three years ago… And it has, but I've also taken breaks and not felt too guilty about them. I definitely don't want this one to sit in my drive and have me wondering what to do with it.

(The novel, aka WOWO, aka IM AU (2021): 150k written in a little over five months, even with extended breaks over the summer. Still hits, even with all its crazy decisions, maybe because of them, but it's also been too long, and it will always remind me of someone who kinda hurt me. Attempts to replace those memories by sharing the story with others, trying to gather whether it's worth posting, have failed, lmao. One day! Maybe!)

But yeah. Uuuuuhhhh. As I've said… Twelve chapters in ten months, 85k words… It's still not done. In fact, I've repeatedly said I am unsure of how to end it (beyond the obvious), but I'd estimate it to be under 20 chapters. I'm not posting it anywhere yet because I want to be able to edit it as a whole and try to make it more consistent; to add little details as I come up with them. There's also the fact that I am not skilled enough to write a compelling story that mixes politics and emotion into something remotely engaging. As a result, the story's politics are very surface-level, and probably repetitive at points, but it's also true I've always been more interested and focused on the emotional journey and the relationship(s) at its center. (Which should surprise exactly no one who's ever read one of my stories.)

But, as critical as I might sound of myself here, I am having fun writing this and I'm committed to seeing it through. I just keep having ideas for stories down the line, putting actual show events through a 'but she also has a kid' perspective.

#mihrsuri #asks #wip ask game #wip title ask game #even despite all the rewriting and editing this is still rambly af #doesn't make sense #I wish I could say what happens at the end of chapter 3 lmao #hadn't even realized that link was to yours! funny how you asked about this one then too #the same way thalia asked about bars :D #thank you for asking and sorry for the delay!

[trulytiredhermit]

( Hope this little scene is up to your liking, this is just my short take on what i think happened before the reader got sent to the linked universe world, not the longest or best out there, but hey, it's the thought that counts )

Bringing up a rock that she randomly found on the way, Anya proceeded to throw the rock to the window, while it only was able to make slight cracks to it with a few holes, for the windows of the abandoned mansion was slightly thicker than normal, but it was surprisingly enough for Anya to fit through. Opening the window from the inside, Anya ushered you all to enter the said mansion through the open window, the smell of the mansion's books were present in the area, and you realised that you four were in the library part of the mansion. Looking around, the darkness of the building was making it hard to see the detailed structure of the walls, and the writings of the opened books laid out before you, that is unless you squint your eyes. Dust were everywhere, the walls, the furniture, and not to mention the floor, and you all leave the library to venture more into the mysterious abandoned location, leaving behind footprints. "What should we explore first?" Anya whispered a question, taking the whole cult thing seriously as her eyes darted from one corner and door to another. "Should we all split up? Therefore we could cover more area" Maya suggested, and while a part of you were against the idea, you suppose that it'll be better that way if you want to go back home as soon as possible. "But what about our safety? We don't know if someone is still actually in this building..!" Evelyn whispered back, concern and fear evident in her eyes and words. "Oh, don't worry, there are tons of things here in the area that we could use as self defense, and besides, who would stay here anyway? Because if i were them, i would've already left hours ago, it's nearly six in the morning, and they probably only do their weird cult things in the devil's hour or something" Anya reasoned. "..Alright" Evelyn sighed, not even thinking of saying anything else, for she knew that she'll lose, anyway. "I'll go try out the bathroom!" Anya whisper-yelled, eyes shining bright with delight as Maya nodded, "Kitchen, I'll take the kitchen" Said Maya. "I'll take the bedroom, i guess" Evelyn said, and all eyes went on you. "Fine, I'll take the basement" You say exhaustingly, you woke up this early for a random adventure that will probably turn out like everything else, fruitless. "Then it's settled!" Anya exclaimed in a low voice, wasting no time to run to a different room, Maya following soon after. In the end, you had to accompany Evelyn upstairs, and then was left alone to do your own thing. As much as you liked adventures that weren't in vain like what happened to the others, you wished that that should've been the case.

*Oh my gosh, the thought definitely counts!!!

I adore your take!

I mean Anya not being afraid to commit property damage just so she can break into the place and investigate. On brand. She would not care about laws when adventure is a foot.

Also the implication that the cult might still be using the place yet Anya is still hellbent on exploring and has somehow still been able to convince the others to explore the place with her has me dying.

And Reader escorting Evelyn to the bedroom before heading down to the basement, just yes. Mama bear mode was activated then and there.

And since I did write out a bit of chapter one, and especially since you took time out of your day to write this beloved piece of work, I feel that you should be awarded with two little snippets from the first chapter 😉*

(Snippet #1)

Rotting wood creaked and groaned as four pairs of feet put its dust ridden surface to use. Their soles wiped away the debris, leaving pristine foot prints behind them.

These pairs of feet belonged to a band of teenagers. Your typical run of the mill teens who liked to check out creepy buildings for fun.

Behind this strange band of teens, an old oaken door shut behind them with a rumbling groan, it’s rusty hinges creaking in protest at being put to work after years of disuse.

Or perhaps it was giving out a solemn warning, cautioning the teens against being there. Urging for them to turn back.

One of these teens just so happened to be you.

Looking around the decrypted area, and from what you saw of the foliage takeover of the outside of the mansion, you could tell that the place had to have been abandoned for more than a few years.

Perhaps more than a few decades even.

It was quite late into the evening by the time your group had made it into the mansion. The sun already having made its way down to kiss the horizon.

You had done this type of thing many times before and you knew exactly where it would lead you. To nothing.

You didn’t even believe in ghost like your friends did, but this place was rubbing you the wrong way.

You couldn’t quite explain it.

The best definition for what you felt, you guess, would have to be like you were a bird within a covered cage. While the bird could see nothing wrong from within its cage, it could hear and sense the house cat that prowled near the cage’s perimeters. The cat needed only to jump on the cage for it to fall and break, rewarding it with a tasty meal. Meanwhile the bird would be none the wiser, only having a sense of foreboding as it’s sole companion.

Yes, you felt like that bird in this case. You didn’t know what was wrong with the mansion, you just knew that something was off.

A sigh left your lips as you shifted the weight of your backpack around, attempting to soothe your nerves.

“Why are we doing this again guys? We couldn’t have just put on a horror movie or something?”

Your friend Anya, a girl with curly brown hair and freckles whose personality always resembled that of a child who had just found a new toy, barked out a laugh.

“What would the fun in that be [Name]!”

“A lot.” You groaned, “A lot of fun actually.”

“But [Name]!” Maya, another friend who you had known from high school, drawled out. “We can actually find some exciting stuff here! I swear, it won’t be like last time!”

Suddenly Maya let out a gasp and you felt a heavy weight jump on your back as a familiar set of arms linked around your neck.

“What if we actually find a ghost!” A giggle echoed right beside your ear as the ginger haired girl rested on your shoulders.

With an indifferent look upon your face, you shrugged your clingy friend off, giving her no warning as you did so. Leaving Maya to her date of falling to the floor with a resounding thud and a small yelp.

“Don’t joke around like that Maya!” Evelyn chided, lightly smacking the back of said girl’s head.

“It’s not like someone actually died in this place.” Her breathed hitched and she nervously touched her glasses.

Evelyn turned to look at you. “Righ… right [Name]?”

You opened your mouth to give a response but was swiftly cut off by another’s laughter that could almost be described as villainous in a way.

“Ohohoho! But haven’t you heard Eve?” Anya spoke up, a glint in her eyes as she approached.

“Apparently a couple decades or so ago a group of cultists made this place their home. They believed that this area laid on some kind of spiritual crossroads or something and that after performing certain rituals they would be able to transcend beyond time and space.”

Evelyn began to tremble as your shared friend grew closer.

“Of course they disappeared and no one knows what really happened to them. Some believe that they all got arrested. Others that they all got lost in the woods. However, some suspect that the group actually succeeded.”

Anya grinned as she starred down Evelyn, who had begun to cling to your side.

“But to perform those rituals the cultists needed to make ritualistic sacrifices!”

Anya punctured her last word with a jump towards Evelyn, letting out a loud cry.

Evelyn squealed and buried herself into your side even more.

“Relax Evelyn, Anya’s just making stuff up to scare you. Besides, ghosts aren’t even real.”

A mock offended scoff sounded from your unoccupied side as Maya draped her arm across your shoulder.

“First of all, I’m the one who found out about this place, and secondly ghost are too real! You’d think with all the podcasts and ghost hunting shows I’ve forced you to watch that you’d finally start to become a believer-“

“Anyways-“

You cut Maya’s rant off by turning to face Evelyn, paying no attention Maya’s indignant “hey!” at being ignored.

Evelyn turned her teary eyes to you, a hopeful gleam in them as she seemed to stare at what must have been in her mind her savior.

“-what, you really want to worry about is some pissed off drug dealer or a creepy weirdo who could potentially stab you in here. I mean the door was open and those chains were snapped off a long time ago. Anyone could have wandered in here.

And just like that Evelyn was burying herself into your side once more as the rest of your group, and yourself, chuckled at her antics.

(Snippet #2)

Heaving out a sigh, you turned to leave, ready to go convince Anya and Maya to abandon their little mission for something more fun.

Just then, out of the corner of your eye you saw something.

Or well, you realized the lack of something.

You turned your flashlight once more towards the back of the room, walking closer to the shelving units and boxes that were stationed there.

Sure enough your eyes hadn’t deceived you.

Right there, behind one of the shelves was an opening. Only visible due to the broken down and splintered wooden back of the shelf.

With your eyes and the light from your flashlight, you could faintly make out the appearance of another room on the other side.

You couldn’t help but think that at least you had found something that peaked your interest now.

Tucking your bat flashlight underneath your arm, you got to work.

Grabbing onto the corner of the shelf you pulled, grunting at the weight.

At first it seemed that the shelf wasn’t going to give, like it was stuck on a rock or on the debris that acted as a blanket to the ground.

But thankfully, the rickety shelf suddenly gave a mighty lurch and began to begrudgingly move.

You were certain it was scratching the floor but you could care less. All you wanted was to satiate your curiosity.

Finally heaving it far enough away you slowly entered the hidden room, shining your flashlight around to give you a better grasp of the place.

You wished you hadn’t been so curious.

Your hand trembled, the light of your flashlight danced across the room from the tremors. That eerie sense of foreboding that you had experienced while entering the mansion had reared its head once more.

You couldn’t believe what you had found.

Shakily, you raised the walkie talkie up to your face, pressing the button you connected to your friends.

“Guys, you need to come down to the basement now.”

————————————————————————

*Annnd that’s all I’ll give you so far. I’m almost done with the first chapter, but I’ll want to read over it and maybe even get a start on the second chapter before I post anything.

But, y’all might want to be expecting something soon muwhahaha!

In all seriousness, thank you so much for this and I loved your little scene that you made of how you thought Reader and friends broke into the mansion.

You’ve honestly got me more motivated to keep writing chapters and eventually actually publish this AU, so thank you so much for that.*

#chromonomatic #linked universe #yandere lu x reader #dream walker au #linked universe au #trulytiredhermit #lu au #story snippet

[androidcharles]

Surprise short story drop, since it's been a while! This time, it's a story based on the picture of Minerva and Jaques I posted yesterday. I'm still not good at writing fight scenes.

There's a lot that's going on here, but a lot of information cannot be revealed until the third arc, so just go in and hope like hell it'll all make sense later. TW for some blood mention of course.

Minerva yawned, trying her best to stay awake as she walked through the streets of Greenwich. She had a long shift cleaning up a level 5 anomaly at the Chaos Containment Center and she wanted nothing more than to send off Rupert’s nanny and see her boy before she headed to bed for the night.

She hated to make Mrs. Dasher stay much longer than she needed, but sometimes she couldn’t help these long shifts. She wouldn’t have taken the job if she wasn’t worried about just sitting around doing nothing but relying on Toppat funds.

Her husband had divorced her the minute Rupert was born and at the age of twenty, she could barely keep up with her studies, much less hold down a job while taking care of a newborn baby. But eventually, an opening for the CCC helped her out and on top of her brother, Jaques Kensington being the leader of the Toppat Clan, she was living pretty comfortably in an apartment in Greenwich, a town governed by the larger city of New Stick City.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw the man himself, rounding the corner quickly as she stopped in place, her eyes widening as he dashed towards her, his navy blue cape flowing behind him as he halted in place. He let out a few pants, trying to catch his breath as he doubled over from running so fast.

“Jaques? The bloody hell are you doing here?” Minerva said, tipping her head to the side.

“Ah, well…” Jaques panted out, trying to catch his breath, “It’s good to see you again Minnie.”

“I’ll say. It’s been almost two years since you’ve visited. I think Rupert’s forgotten your face. He’d be happy to see you again,” Minerva said, “Tell ya what, I’m heading home right now. Knowing the little nipper, he’s probably still up driving Mrs. Dasher crazy so-”

“Minnie, I don’t have time to visit! You’re in grave danger!” Jaques said. Minerva’s eyes widened as she looked around, trying to see where the government agents or police officers were.

“Look, I don’t have time to cover for one of your dumb heists right now! Where’s Randy? I’m pretty sure he’ll help ya if you just-”

“The police will be the least of your troubles, young lady…” she heard a voice whisper behind her as she was suddenly grabbed from behind. Jaques gritted his teeth as his hands glowed bright red, his hair flying up as Minerva turned around to see person wearing a beautiful green masquerade mask. Her blonde hair flowed behind her as she tightened her grip on Minerva, chuckling evilly.

“Well, Jaques, we didn’t think it was this easy to trick you. Than again, once a Toppat, always a Toppat,” she said.

“Isabelle, if you know what’s good for you, you would let go of Minerva right now!” Jaques shouted as he shot a blast of energy at her, causing her to jump up, still holding Minerva. She floated in the air above Jaques as he rocketed up with her, firing a few more blasts as Isabelle dodged them with ease. Minerva felt a bit queasy from all the spinning and dodging that was happening.

“Oh, Jaques, our clans have clashed heads for years now, and here you are acting like you’re the bigger man for fighting with me,” Isabelle said as they landed on a building, tossing Minerva aside as she gasped, trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Isabelle, you can threaten my clan members and me all you want! But I draw the line at family!” Jaques said, “And I can guarantee you that you’ve crossed that line more than enough times to warrant this fight!”

“How laughable! You really think you can beat me, don’t you!” Isabelle said, “Than let’s do this. But I can already tell you that this isn’t going to end well for you or your little sister either!” Isabelle hopped into the air, summoning dozens of paint tubes, blasting energy from each one as Jaques dodged the paint balls, placing a charm on Minerva to ensure her safety before flinging more energy blasts at Isabelle.

Isabelle got hit at least a couple of times, placing up a shield as she teleported in front of Jaques, hitting him with a magical paintbrush as he screamed, falling to the ground. He got up as he rocketed up again, firing more energy blasts into the air as they exploded into bigger blasts, making them hard to dodge as Isabelle summoned more paint supplies to try to throw at Jaques.

Eventually Isabelle stopped in place, a cluster of magic circles appearing behind her, vibrant colors flashing as Jaques charged up his own attack, blasts of energy flying out as Isabelle did the same. The explosion of color and sound caused Minerva to duck down, cowering in fear as she tried to understand what was happening.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a few pistols popped up around Jaques as he waved his hand, the pistols suddenly fire rapidly as Isabelle dodged expertly, her mask flashing as she cast another spell, a sheild of paint keeping her from being hit as she jumped up over Jaques, flinging another wave of paint at him. He was too slow to dodge as he fell to the ground again. Only this time, he didn’t get up so easily.

Isabelle hovered over Minerva as she cowered in fear.

“You Toppats are the same. You pretend to be all elegant when in reality you’re just a bunch of ugly cowards,” Isabelle said, “I have a feeling that-” Isabelle’s monologue was suddenly interrupted as a bullet went through her chest, causing her to gasp as she fell over, trying to breath as Jaques narrowed his eyes at her.

“Leave my sister out of this. I don’t know what caused you to instigate this sudden rivalry, but it ends here! I would highly suggest you slink back to the hole where you came or I will have no choice but call in reinforcements…” Jaques said.

“Oh, like you can get anyone here fast enough to help you with this mess!” Isabelle shouted, her magic healing her as Jaques smiled evilly.

“Try me,” Jaques said. Minerva held her breath as the two criminal leaders stood at a standstill, staring each other down before Jaques let out a sigh.

Suddenly Minerva was at his side, trying not to panic as Jaques took her hand and hopped down in the alley way below.

“If she knows what’s good for her, she won’t follow us,” Jaques said softly.

“But what if-” Minerva was suddenly interrupted as something grabbed his ankle, causing him to fall to the ground.

“What? What the-? WHAT’S HAPPENING!?” Jaques shouted as Minerva gasped. She looked up to see Isabelle, her hands glowing green as she smiled wickedly. At the end of the glowing green rope that was dragging Jaques was a portrait frame, an evil sickening green emanating from the middle. Minerva grabbed Jaques’ hand as he was dragged further into the glow, his eyes full of fear and determination as she tried to pull him out.

She gritted her teeth as she dug her heels into the dirt, Jaques going deeper and deeper into the painting as tears formed in his eyes.

“JAQUES! HANG ON!” Minerva shouted as she tried to pull her other hand up. His red eye glowed as he smiled sadly at her, his eyes still full of fear.

“Minnie… I’m sorry…” Jaques said softly. His hand slipped as Minerva was forced to let go, her stomach churning as Jaques flung back into the painting, his scream cut off as the painting fell to the ground. It spun for a few seconds on the corner, gently rotating to a stop as it fell to the ground with a thud. Minerva fell to the ground as well, her heart racing as she tried to process what had just happened.

To the CCC it would have been a category three or four incident. But to her…

To her, she had lost her brother. Her only brother.

“JAQUES!!!” Minerva cried, throwing her head back as tears started to fall down her face. She sobbed uncontrollably as Isabelle jumped down from the top of the building, chuckling to herself as she towered over Minerva.

“What a sad sight. I guess I’ll put you out of your-” Isabelle suddenly felt her arm being grabbed as Minerva twisted it behind her. Isabelle tried to cast another spell, but not before she was slammed into a wall, stars filling her vision as she looked in horror at Minerva, who’s face was twisted in rage as she kicked and punched Isabelle over and over again.

Isabelle tried to figure out what to do next as she felt a trash can lid hit her hard, causing her to go unconscious. Minerva had managed to take her down, but she wasn’t satisfied. She found a rusty pipe nearby, lifting it over her head and bashing in Isabelle’s skull. She let out shaky breath after breath, shaking and shivering as she watched the blood pool out of her wound before she snapped out of it, suddenly realizing what she had done.

She looked to the dead body, than to the painting and realized that if she didn’t get out of here, her brother being trapped in a portrait wasn’t going to be the only thing she would be worried about. She quickly grabbed the painting and ran off, hoping like hell that no one else was around as she dashed down the street.

- - - - -

Minerva sighed, placing her hand in her face as she monitored a couple of sectors not too far from the main city limit. It had been at least three days since the magical duel that caused her brother to become trapped in a painting. For three days she had tried to awaken her magic potential, so maybe, just maybe she could actually save him somehow. But for some reason, whenever she tried to awaken her magic potential it just… wouldn’t work.

It was almost as if she couldn’t do magic at all anymore. She let out a small sigh, wondering if it was possible that it was because of all the stress from what had happened when she suddenly felt someone tap on her shoulder. She jumped, turning around to see Patience Makenzie, one of her coworkers smiling gently at her.

“Are you feeling alright? You haven’t been yourself for a while,” Patience said softly. Minerva smiled weakly as she started adjust the scope.

“I’m fine, I just… had a rough last few days…” Minerva said, “Maybe I should take advantage of all that vacation time they give us.”

“Did something happen?” Patience asked, sitting down next to her. Minerva didn’t usually mind people sitting next to her while she was working. Hell, her boss has even taken position next to her while she was working. But in this instance, she didn’t really have the energy to pretend like someone being over her shoulder was OK in anyway.

But she still needed to vent to somebody and she wasn’t about to let it boil up inside of her. She gazed at Patience, her bright blue eyes searching.

“A… a category three point five event caused my brother to be turned into a painting,” Minerva said softly, “It’s at my house right now, but greater ones alive, I feel sick to my stomach just looking at it and my brother is magic, so that means I am too and every time I try to do magic, I can’t seem to do it and I don’t know what to do and-”

“OK, OK, calm down!” Patience said, “Now, now, relax, take some deep breaths…” Minerva tried to breathe as she buried her face in her hands, trying not to cry again. Crying on the job actually set off the alarms (it was a 2 on the scale) and she would have to be forced to take the rest of the day off to “restore balance” within the work place.

“There’s a couple of things we can do to test things out, but we’re going to need your brothers painting in order to do it,” Patience said, “Are you willing to do that?” Minerva nodded her head, sniffling a bit as Patience patted her back.

“Alright than, let’s get started,” Patience said, taking Minerva’s arm.

“Wait, now?” Minerva fidgeted a bit, a little uneasy, “I’m not sure if-”

“The only way we’ll know for sure what’s going on is if we investigate, right? So we might as well do it now while nothing big is going on. I’ll have Oswald cover for you while we do this OK?” Patience smiled at her as Minerva blushed before setting down her headphones and standing up, nodding her head.

“Alright, let’s get started than.”

It took some time to set everything up, but after a few hours of nothing special, Patience decided to go over Minerva with the Hyper Magic Detector 5000, an invention that was created to detect magical energy in any situation.

“That’s so funny… are you sure you’re saying the incantation correctly?” Patience said as Minerva slammed the beginner’s magic book shut, letting out a small sigh.

“I can’t believe it’s all gone…” Minerva said, “I can’t believe that I no longer have magic. I was never going to really pursue it, but now when I desperately need it, it’s gone…”

“It may turn up! Let’s see… I know the pulses of your magic energy, so I should be able to see what happened to it. Maybe someone took it? There are some magic users that are powerful enough to strip the magic from a person, no matter how powerful they are,” Patience said. Minerva felt a cold chill as she remembered what she had done to Isabelle and gulped. Could it be possible that Isabelle took it? The only person who could have given it back to her and she’s dead. At least that’s what the news confirmed.

“Minerva? You OK?” Patience said as Minerva snapped out of her trance. Minerva waved her hand as Patience pushed a few buttons on the magic detector before waving it in the air. Already, the detector was beeping rapidly, not enough that it locked on the location, but enough to show that something was going on.

“How strange…” Patience hummed as she waved the detector around before the beeping started to grow so rapid it was almost one continuous beep… over the painting that Jaques was trapped in.

“Ooooh… I think I found it,” Patience said softly as Minerva gasped, running towards the painting. She gazed at the painting, tears forming in her eyes as she gazed downwards.

“Jaques, you crazy bastard. I can’t believe it,” Minerva muttered, shaking her head, “This is just insane.”

“Well, that’s just how it is,” Patience said, clapping her hands together, “I have a theory though!” Minerva looked up as Patience nodded her head.

“I theorize that the reason Jaques took your magic was because being in that painting seals his magic away. It wouldn’t be a prison if you could do whatever you wanted. Maybe he hopes that your magic will be the thing that breaks him out. However, it may be a good while before he can break out of there. I think you’ll see him again very soon. But for now, the best thing you can do is wait.” Patience finished her theory as Minerva took the painting in her hands, feeling a cold chill down her spine.

On one hand, she couldn’t stand the idea of not having magic. She couldn’t help him in anyway now because Jaques was riding on this theory that he could free himself from his own prison with someone else’s magic. But maybe, in a way, it gave her a slight hope as well. After all, Jaques was a powerful magician, more powerful than she could ever imagine. He had been studying magic since he was so young, so if anyone could free himself from this painting, it had to be him.

“Hey, Patience? Could you tell Bill I’m taking the rest of the day off?” Minerva said. Patience nodded her head as Minerva tucked the painting under her arm, heading out of the test room and out into the hallway.

As soon as she clocked out and headed out of the building, she squinted in the low sunlight, looking around before catching a taxi and instructing the driver to drop her off somewhere near the Toppat Manor.

It was a long drive, but as soon as the sun started to set, giving the sky a soft pink color, she pulled herself out of the cab, almost tripping as the taxi driver practically sped off from their general location. She didn’t quite blame him for being as paranoid as he was. After all, the Toppats were a pretty fearsome bunch and there was no reason for him to stick around where he might get instigated.

However, she didn’t need to worry about that. She was confident in her stride as she approached the manors gates, ringing the buzzer as she looked to the manor garden. It was completely empty, almost eerily so, like something was completely wrong. She looked at the camera as she heard someone over the speaker.

“Who is this?” she heard someone say. She recognized the voice immediately as she pushed the button.

“Malcolm, it’s me, Minerva. I need to talk to Randy,” she said. There were a few moments of silence as she rocked back and forth where she was standing, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Well, as nonchalant as she could holding a painting that her brother was trapped in AND while wearing a CCC uniform.

Finally, the gate opened as Randy Radman burst out of gate, closing it quickly behind him.

“MINNIE! Thank the greater ones you’re here!” Randy shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders. Minerva could practically see the stress behind his ladder shades as he shook her.

“The clan has been in a ruckus since Jaques vanished a couple days ago and no one has seen him! You’re his sister; do you know what happened to him!?” Randy said. Minerva sighed as she held a painting in front of him. Randy started to shake as he took off his shades, his pink eyes filled with dread.

“Randy, I need you to listen very carefully to me. Because what I’m about to tell you is VERY important,” Minerva said.

- Ten Years Later -

Dear Jaques,

It’s hard to believe that it’s been ten years since you’ve disappeared. Well, you’re not gone, you’re just… trapped I guess. But in the end, you’ve been gone for just that long. And everyday it still hurts to think about it. Rupert is now a very boisterous sixteen year old boy and boy is he a handful. He’s been pretty lacking in his grades, but he’s going on about how he wants to be a detective still. I know you were hoping he would become a Toppat, but I want him to explore his own paths for a change. Let him decide what he wants to do.

If you remember five years ago, I told you I moved out to West Mesa. It’s been a nice change of pace, for both me and Rupert of course. It’s a lot quieter out here, but that doesn’t mean my job isn’t anymore demanding than it usually is. Despite that, the clan still takes care of me. We had a few rough years where I had to go paycheck to paycheck to survive, but we managed even than. I should consider myself lucky that despite how bad you guys are… you’re still willing to take help care of me and my boy.

Minerva looked up from her laptop and saw Rupert absentmindedly chewing on his toast. His black hair had grown out full force, as it was practically a fluffy mess framing his face perfectly. His aquamarine eyes were a bit annoyed however as Minerva patted his hand.

“Oy, Rupert. It’s time ya got going to school,” Minerva said.

“Don’t wanna go,” Rupert muttered, looking out the window.

“I know you don’t want to, but if you wanna make a good impression, you gotta get some book smarts.” Rupert only slumped in his chair, groaning a bit as Minerva giggled.

“C’mon now, you’re all dressed up, you might as well go out, right?” Minerva said as Rupert rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine,” Rupert muttered, pulling on his backpack and heading towards the door, “I’ll see ya after school.”

“Aren’t ya forgetting something?” Minerva asked. Rupert turned towards Minerva, a sort of soft look in his eyes as he walked towards her and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. She patted his cheek as she returned the favor, nuzzling his forehead.

“Have a good day. Learn something new, alright?” Minerva said as Rupert rushed back towards the door, waving at her as he headed out. Minerva smiled as she turned back to her laptop.

I miss you so much, you know. I wish you were here, watching Rupert grow up. I know you loved him dearly and it hurts to know that he’s growing up without an uncle. But if Patience was right about what she said… you’re definitely coming back.

And I look forward to the day you do.

Minnie ~ ❤

#the henry stickmin collection #stickmin oc #minerva price #jaques kensington #rupert price #the narrators stories #fan fic #fanfiction