#boiler pipe problems

[pagepulse]

Common Boiler Pipe Problems and How to Address Them

Boilers play a crucial role in providing heat and hot water in many homes and businesses. While they are generally reliable, boiler systems can experience issues over time, particularly with their pipes. Understanding common boiler pipe problems and how to address them is essential for maintaining the efficiency and safety of your heating system.

1. Leaks

Leaking pipes are a prevalent problem in boiler systems. Leaks can occur for various reasons, including corrosion, loose connections, or faulty pressure relief valves. If you notice water pooling around your boiler, it's important to address the issue promptly.

Addressing Leaks:

Turn off the boiler to prevent further damage.

Identify the source of the leak. It could be a loose connection, a damaged valve, or corroded pipes.

Tighten loose connections or replace faulty valves.

For severe corrosion, it may be necessary to replace the affected pipes.

2. Corrosion

Corrosion is a common issue with boiler pipes, especially in older systems. It occurs when the metal in the pipes deteriorates due to exposure to oxygen and water. Corrosion weakens the pipes, increasing the risk of leaks and system inefficiency.

Addressing Corrosion:

Regular maintenance can help prevent corrosion by identifying and addressing the early signs of decay.

In cases of severe corrosion, pipes may need to be replaced. Consider using corrosion-resistant materials for the new pipes.

3. Blockages

Blockages in boiler pipes can lead to reduced water flow and heating system inefficiency. Common culprits for blockages include debris, mineral buildup, or sludge.

Addressing Blockages:

Regular system flushing can help prevent blockages by removing debris and sludge.

For mineral buildup, consider water softening treatments or using a descaling solution to clean the pipes.

A professional technician can use chemical cleaning or power flushing to remove stubborn blockages.

4. Noisy Pipes

If your boiler pipes are making loud or unusual noises, it could indicate an issue within the system. Common noises include banging, whistling, or gurgling sounds, which may be caused by air in the pipes, kettling (overheating), or water hammer (sudden pressure changes).

Addressing Noisy Pipes:

Bleed the radiators to remove any trapped air in the system.

For kettling, reduce the boiler temperature to prevent overheating.

To address water hammer, consider installing water hammer arrestors or adjusting the water pressure.

5. Low Boiler Pressure

Low boiler pressure can result from various factors, including water leaks, a faulty pressure relief valve, or bleeding the radiators. Insufficient pressure can lead to reduced heating performance.

Addressing Low Boiler Pressure:

Check for visible leaks and repair them as necessary.

Re-pressurize the system using the filling loop.

Regularly monitor the pressure to ensure it remains within the recommended range.

6. Uneven Heating

If some areas in your home are not receiving adequate heat, it may be due to imbalanced water flow through the pipes or issues with individual radiators.

Addressing Uneven Heating:

Balance the radiators by adjusting the valves to ensure an even distribution of hot water.

Check for radiator blockages or trapped air, which can affect their heating efficiency.

7. Frozen Pipes

In colder climates, boiler pipes can freeze, leading to system breakdowns. Frozen pipes can cause damage and disruption to your heating system.

Addressing Frozen Pipes:

Insulate the pipes to prevent freezing during cold weather.

Thaw frozen pipes gently using warm, not hot, water or by applying heating tape.

8. Ignition Problems

If your boiler is not firing up or igniting properly, it can be due to issues with the ignition system, such as faulty components or dirt buildup.

Addressing Ignition Problems:

Inspect and clean the ignition system components, such as electrodes and burners.

Check for loose or damaged wiring and replace or repair as necessary.

If the problem persists, contact a professional technician for a thorough diagnosis.

9. Pressure Fluctuations

Boiler systems operate within a specific pressure range. Fluctuations in pressure can affect their efficiency and performance. These fluctuations may be due to water leaks, faulty pressure relief valves, or issues with the expansion tank.

Addressing Pressure Fluctuations:

Inspect the expansion tank and ensure it is functioning correctly.

Address any leaks promptly.

Replace a malfunctioning pressure relief valve.

10. Carbon Monoxide Leaks

While not a pipe-specific issue, carbon monoxide leaks can be life-threatening and are often related to the boiler's combustion process. It's essential to have carbon monoxide detectors in your home and ensure your boiler is well-maintained to prevent such leaks.

Addressing Carbon Monoxide Leaks:

Install carbon monoxide detectors in your home, especially near the boiler.

Schedule regular boiler inspections to ensure the combustion process is safe and efficient.

Conclusion

Maintaining a boiler system is a crucial aspect of ensuring reliable heating and hot water in your home or business. By understanding common boiler pipe problems and how to address them, you can take proactive steps to prevent issues, enhance system efficiency, and ensure the longevity of your heating system. While some maintenance tasks can be handled by homeowners, it's recommended to have a professional boiler technician inspect and service your system regularly to identify and address potential problems before they escalate. This approach not only saves you money on costly repairs but also provides peace of mind, knowing that your heating system is operating at its best.

[ayeforscotland]

What is Dataflow?

This post is inspired by another post about the Crowd Strike IT disaster and a bunch of people being interested in what I mean by Dataflow. Dataflow is my absolute jam and I'm happy to answer as many questions as you like on it. I even put referential pictures in like I'm writing an article, what fun!

I'll probably split this into multiple parts because it'll be a huge post otherwise but here we go!

A Brief History

Our world is dependent on the flow of data. It exists in almost every aspect of our lives and has done so arguably for hundreds if not thousands of years.

At the end of the day, the flow of data is the flow of knowledge and information. Normally most of us refer to data in the context of computing technology (our phones, PCs, tablets etc) but, if we want to get historical about it, the invention of writing and the invention of the Printing Press were great leaps forward in how we increased the flow of information.

Modern Day IT exists for one reason - To support the flow of data.

Whether it's buying something at a shop, sitting staring at an excel sheet at work, or watching Netflix - All of the technology you interact with is to support the flow of data.

Understanding and managing the flow of data is as important to getting us to where we are right now as when we first learned to control and manage water to provide irrigation for early farming and settlement.

Engineering Rigor

When the majority of us turn on the tap to have a drink or take a shower, we expect water to come out. We trust that the water is clean, and we trust that our homes can receive a steady supply of water.

Most of us trust our central heating (insert boiler joke here) and the plugs/sockets in our homes to provide gas and electricity. The reason we trust all of these flows is because there's been rigorous engineering standards built up over decades and centuries.

For example, Scottish Water will understand every component part that makes up their water pipelines. Those pipes, valves, fitting etc will comply with a national, or in some cases international, standard. These companies have diagrams that clearly map all of this out, mostly because they have to legally but also because it also vital for disaster recovery and other compliance issues.

Modern IT

And this is where modern day IT has problems. I'm not saying that modern day tech is a pile of shit. We all have great phones, our PCs can play good games, but it's one thing to craft well-designed products and another thing entirely to think about they all work together.

Because that is what's happened over the past few decades of IT. Organisations have piled on the latest plug-and-play technology (Software or Hardware) and they've built up complex legacy systems that no one really knows how they all work together. They've lost track of how data flows across their organisation which makes the work of cybersecurity, disaster recovery, compliance and general business transformation teams a nightmare.

Some of these systems are entirely dependent on other systems to operate. But that dependency isn't documented. The vast majority of digital transformation projects fail because they get halfway through and realise they hadn't factored in a system that they thought was nothing but was vital to the organisation running.

And this isn't just for-profit organisations, this is the health services, this is national infrastructure, it's everyone.

There's not yet a single standard that says "This is how organisations should control, manage and govern their flows of data."

Why is that relevant to the companies that were affected by Crowd Strike? Would it have stopped it?

Maybe, maybe not. But considering the global impact, it doesn't look like many organisations were prepared for the possibility of a huge chunk of their IT infrastructure going down.

Understanding dataflows help with the preparation for events like this, so organisations can move to mitigate them, and also the recovery side when they do happen. Organisations need to understand which systems are a priority to get back operational and which can be left.

The problem I'm seeing from a lot of organisations at the moment is that they don't know which systems to recover first, and are losing money and reputation while they fight to get things back online. A lot of them are just winging it.

Conclusion of Part 1

Next time I can totally go into diagramming if any of you are interested in that.

How can any organisation actually map their dataflow and what things need to be considered to do so. It'll come across like common sense, but that's why an actual standard is so desperately needed!

[scarsnfevers]

Fire & Storm

Chapter III of Wolfgang

summary: problems exist to be unraveled. But when a stranger stepped out of the shadows to offer their hand, you sensed—too late—that they carried with them a fire far greater than your own. And somehow, you found yourself drawn to it… willingly, almost hungrily.

genre: werewolf!stray kids x werewolf!reader x werewolf!changbin

chapter word count: 4,4k

chapter warnings: mature language

It had been three weeks since that morning by the lake.

Since the howl that had cut through the silence like a memory uninvited, since the scent in the air had told you something was coming, or perhaps already there. But you hadn’t gone back. Not once. You had turned away, just as you always had. It wasn’t what you wanted.

A pack. Wolves. Alphas and Betas and Omegas, all pressed too close together, their thoughts loud and their emotions louder. Too many scents in too little space. It reminded you of the city, of closed windows and crowded rooms, of breathing in everything that wasn’t yours until you forgot where you ended and others began. You had fled that life with both hands open, desperate to reclaim something that resembled solitude. Perhaps it was your past that made you wary. Or perhaps it was the taste of peace you’d found here in the woods—quiet, sacred, untouched. You didn’t want to give it up. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

You hadn’t thought about them much since then.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

The sun was dipping low now, casting long shadows across the winding dirt road as your car rolled steadily toward Fox River. The engine hummed beneath you, steady and familiar, as the trees blurred past on either side. The small town sat nestled at the edge of the forest, about eight kilometers from your cabin. It was the only place nearby with anything resembling a store. You liked it well enough. It was quiet. Uncomplicated.

You parked just off the main street, near the old general store with the faded red awning and creaking wooden steps. The bell above the door chimed softly as you stepped inside, the scent of dust and old pine rising to greet you. Shelves lined with canned goods, dry staples, and the occasional local brand of honey or soap greeted your gaze. The woman behind the counter gave you a polite nod, one you returned with a faint smile.

You moved through the aisles with slow, practiced ease—grabbing coffee, oats, dried herbs, rice, and the few vegetables that looked halfway fresh. A carton of milk. A small bag of dog kibble, though you hadn’t had a dog in years. You kept it just in case. Some part of you liked the idea of being prepared. The town had its rhythm, and you moved to it like someone who’d lived here much longer than you had. No one asked questions. No one pried. That was part of the unspoken agreement.

But when you stepped back out into the cooling air, bags in hand, you found a familiar face waiting by the side of the general store.

John.

He offered you a warm, worn smile, the kind that creased the corners of his eyes. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his weathered jacket, his boots dusted with gravel. "Evenin'," he greeted. "Didn’t think I’d see you in town today." You smiled softly. "Running low on a few things. Figured it was time." He nodded, eyes scanning the bags in your hands. "Looks like you’re set for another quiet week, then." "Hopefully," you said.

There was a pause. Comfortable.

"Everything alright up at the cabin?" he asked, head tilting slightly. "Anything need fixing?" You hesitated, shifting the weight of the bags. "Nothing serious. Just… I think something’s off with the boiler. Hot water’s been a little temperamental. Comes and goes." John scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Could be the ignition valve. Or just some old pipes acting up. Want me to come take a look?" You shook your head. "It’s alright. It can wait until tomorrow afternoon. No need to trouble yourself tonight." He looked at you then. Not just looked—saw. A flicker passed across his features, something thoughtful. Knowing. Like he was reading lines between the words you hadn’t spoken.

He knew. Or thought he did. But he said nothing of it.

Just nodded once, slowly. "Alright. I’ll swing by around three tomorrow, then. See if we can’t get it sorted." You offered him a grateful smile. "Thanks, John." He tipped an imaginary hat and turned, his footsteps crunching softly against the gravel as he made his way down the street. You stood for a moment, watching him go. Then you turned back to your car, loaded the bags into the trunk, and climbed behind the wheel.

The drive back felt longer than it had on the way in, the dusk settling heavy around you. The forest was quiet again, its trees tall and ancient in the fading light. But something about the silence felt… deeper now. You didn’t dwell on it. Just kept driving. Back toward the cabin. Back toward solitude. Back toward the peace you had chosen.

For now.

You hadn’t been waiting for him. Not really.

The afternoon had moved slowly, the kind of drowsy quiet that settled into the bones of the forest and stretched its limbs across the floor of your cabin. A low breeze had picked up, slipping through the trees and brushing past the windows, whispering like it carried stories. The kettle had boiled and cooled again. The sun crept steadily across the floorboards, casting long, golden shadows through the kitchen. You’d almost forgotten about the boiler entirely—until the phone rang.

It was an old sound. Sharp and jarring in a house that had known only silence for days. You flinched before you even registered the name on the screen: John. With a breath, you picked up.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” his voice came through, warm as ever but strained, almost sheepish. “I just—wanted to give you a quick heads up. I won’t be able to make it out today.” You glanced toward the window, toward the trees that swayed gently in the wind. “Oh?” you asked, shifting the phone to your other hand. “That’s okay. Everything alright?” There was a beat of hesitation on the other end. “Yeah. Mostly,” John said, with a rough huff of laughter. “Had a bit of a run-in with a bad landing this morning. Tripped coming down from a survey point near the southern ridge. Arm’s busted pretty good.” Your brows rose. “God, are you alright?” “I’ll live. Got it wrapped and iced. Gonna be in a sling for a while though.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, and you meant it. He was kind—the kind of man who still stopped to help when someone’s groceries spilled in a parking lot. “Is there anything I can do?” “No, no,” he answered quickly. “I just—well, I figured you might still need someone to take a look at that boiler. I can send one of my....son's.., if that’s alright. They’re good with that kind of thing.” You hesitated only a second, fingertips brushing the edge of the counter. “Sure,” you said. “That’s fine. I don’t mind waiting, though. It’s not urgent.” “No trouble,” he said. “One of them’s already out near Fox River. I’ll give him a call. Shouldn’t take him long to swing by.”

Something in his voice wavered again, almost like he was waiting for you to say more. But you didn’t. You only nodded to yourself and said, “Thanks, John. And take care of that arm.” “I will,” he said, and his voice softened. “And… thanks. Talk soon.”

You hung up and stared at your phone for a moment longer than necessary. There was nothing strange about it. People got hurt. People sent others in their place. Still, something sat just beneath the surface of that call—like the moment before a storm, when the air thickens and the leaves turn the wrong way. You felt it in your skin. But you pushed it down. There was no room for paranoia here. Just quiet. And maybe a boiler that hissed more than it should. You moved through the rest of the afternoon with quiet intent, letting the rhythm of small things carry you. A cup of tea. Folding the last of the laundry. You wiped down the counters even though they weren’t dirty. Lit a candle you’d almost forgotten you had, and let the scent of cedar and clove drift into the spaces between your thoughts. You didn’t expect whoever it was to show up early. Or late. Or at all, honestly.

But sometime past four, you caught the sound of tires crunching gravel—slow, deliberate. You paused.

The wind had stilled.

It wasn't the kind of silence that comforted. It wasn't peace. It was the kind of stillness that pressed against your skin like a second weight, heavy and unmoving. As if the forest itself had paused to watch what came next. The air had shifted. You felt it the moment your hand reached for the door handle and your breath snagged in your chest. Something ancient stirred beneath your ribs. A whisper of instinct, not loud enough to hear, but loud enough to feel.

You stepped outside.

The wooden boards of the porch groaned softly beneath your feet, the sound muffled by the thick silence hanging in the trees. The forest beyond your cabin stood utterly still, draped in shadow and bathed in the cool amber light of the lowering sun. The scent of pine hung in the air, earthy and grounding.

And then you saw him.

Leaning casually against the side of a dusty pickup truck, arms folded across his chest, a young man stood watching the cabin. Watching you. He wasn’t tall—not by usual standards—but there was something solid in the way he held himself. Compact strength. Sinewy confidence. His frame was broad, the shape of someone who worked with his hands, who moved often and moved well. But it wasn’t his posture that made you stop.

It was the scent that hit you first—familiar and foreign all at once. Smoke. Not like cigarette smoke or wildfires. No, this was different. Campfire and ash. A hint of birch bark curling in flame, mixed with something warmer… spiced cedar, maybe. And underneath it all, something unmistakably alive. Wolf. Alpha. Your breath caught, shallow in your lungs.

You hadn’t expected this.

You hadn’t expected him.

For weeks you’d avoided every path, every noise, every scent that hinted at pack. You’d come here to disappear—not just from the humans, but from them. Wolves. The structure, the hierarchy, the mess of scent and sound and expectation. You hadn’t come looking for a pack. And yet here he was.

His eyes met yours.

And the world, for just a fraction of a second, forgot to turn.

Your wolf stirred.

Not with aggression, not with fear—but with alertness. Awareness. Something raw and ancient, curling at the base of your spine. You didn’t shift. Didn’t move. But you felt it nonetheless—the way your body responded before your mind could catch up. The young man pushed off the truck and crossed the gravel path toward the porch. His movements were unhurried, fluid in a way that betrayed practice. Graceful. A predator at ease. When he reached the bottom step of the porch, he paused—just long enough for the silence to stretch again.

"Changbin," he said simply, voice deep and smooth, with the faintest rasp of gravel. "John sent me. Something about a boiler?" It took a beat too long for you to respond. The name pulled you back. Your lips parted, air returning to your lungs. "Right. Yes. The boiler," you echoed, before stepping aside and gesturing toward the door. "Come in...By the way, I'm Y/N." He nodded and ascended the steps. You watched him carefully—not because you feared him, but because you didn’t understand him. He moved past you with a nod of thanks, the scent of ash and wolf lingering in the air between you.

Inside, the warmth of the cabin wrapped around your skin like a thick blanket. You’d lit the fire earlier, though the flames had dulled to glowing coals. The young man scanned the room briefly, taking in the details. Not in a nosy way—more like a soldier assessing terrain. You noticed it because you did the same.

You led him to the narrow hallway that wound toward the cellar door. Still, that silence lingered between you. But it wasn’t awkward. It was… charged. As if words would only shatter something too delicate to touch just yet. He took the stairs down into the basement first, and you followed, arms folded, pulse loud in your ears. The cool air of the cellar greeted you like a damp exhale. Shadows clung to the corners, and the single overhead light cast golden pools against the concrete. Changbin crouched beside the boiler, inspecting the pipes and wires with practiced ease. You stayed a few paces behind, unsure whether to speak or let the moment stretch longer.

"So," he said, voice calm as he worked, not looking back, "what brings you out here?" You blinked, caught off guard by the normalcy of the question. "I needed quiet," you said after a moment. "The city got too loud. Too many.... 'people'."

He hummed, like he understood. "It’s quiet out here," he agreed. "But not empty."

You tilted your head slightly. "No. Not empty."

Silence again.

You watched the way his shoulders moved beneath his jacket as he worked. The way his fingers traced the old wiring, firm and sure. The scent of his wolf still hovered in the air, softer now, but no less distinct. It clung to your awareness like static. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Is it just you out here?" You nodded. "Just me." Something flickered in his eyes—curiosity, maybe. A quiet kind of respect. "Takes guts," he murmured. "Being alone with the woods." You offered a faint smile. "I’m used to being alone." He didn’t press. Just nodded once and turned back to the boiler.

The minutes ticked by with the soft clink of metal, the low hiss of a valve turning. You leaned against the wooden beam, fingers tracing the grain absentmindedly. Finally, Changbin stood, wiping his hands on a cloth from his back pocket. He turned to face you, features unreadable for a breath.

"It’s not a quick fix," he said. "Your boiler’s old. Could patch it, but it’ll just break again. Best to replace it." You nodded, already expecting that answer. "That’s fine. I can manage with cold water for now." A faint smirk ghosted across his lips. "High body temp has its perks." You lifted an eyebrow, matching his tone. "So you did know." The man tilted his head, amused. "I could smell it on you from the driveway." You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head lightly. "John never mentioned… that he had wolves working for him." "He doesn’t," Changbin replied. "Not usually. I’m… family." You looked at him more closely now. The dark hair, the sharp eyes, the quiet confidence.

"His son?" A nod. "Unofficially. He took me in when I was young." You absorbed that in silence. Somehow, it made sense. The steadiness. The scent. The eyes that held things too old for his age.

The steps back up from the basement were quieter than before. No words passed between you as you ascended, only the soft creak of the wooden stairs beneath your feet and the faint hum of your thoughts. The tension lingered in the air like static, fragile and unsaid.

At the threshold, Changbin paused. One hand already on the doorframe, his figure half turned toward you, framed by the fading light of the evening. His eyes met yours — steady, calm, but something in them held weight, like he, too, had felt the pull that stirred beneath the surface. “I’ll come by again tomorrow,” he said, his voice low, almost reluctant to break the quiet. “Late afternoon.” You gave a small nod. “Alright.”

There was a heartbeat of stillness. Then, with a last glance, he stepped outside. “Take care,” he murmured.

“Yeah. You too,” you answered, maybe a little too fast — and the moment the screen door clicked shut behind him, you let your breath slip out, sharp and quiet. Your fingers lingered on the doorknob as you stared out into the evening, watching the outline of his truck vanish between the trees. Then, without letting yourself dwell, you closed the door — perhaps a bit too quickly.

Your wolf was pacing beneath your skin.

Overstimulated. Overaware. Overwhelmed.

And for the first time in a long time… not entirely alone.

The truck rumbled down the narrow, winding road, its tires humming against gravel and fallen needles. The forest stretched out around him, silent and shadowed, the last traces of twilight caught between the high branches like secrets left unspoken.

Changbin’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary.

Only when the cabin disappeared behind the trees did he exhale — a long, slow breath that deflated his chest and loosened something behind his ribs. The quiet he’d worn like armor in her presence crumbled at the edges, the controlled composure slipping free now that he was alone in the hush of the truck’s cab.

And still, her scent lingered.

Wildflowers. A storm — soft, but gathering — somewhere in the heart of summer. And lilac.

Not the sharp kind that clung too sweetly to the air, but one that was worn into the skin, like memory. Like a name never said aloud. It filled his lungs even now, even as the night pressed in around him, and it was maddening in a way he hadn’t expected. Maddening because it was unmistakable. Not just wolf. Not just stranger. But her.

He ran one hand through his hair, raking it back from his forehead, knuckles grazing the edge of his jaw. It had been hard. Hard to stand there in that house, beneath the low ceilings and the hush of the trees curling close to the walls, and pretend not to feel the way the air had shifted the moment she’d opened the door. To pretend he didn’t feel the answering pull — old as instinct, sharp as hunger — low in his chest. He could still see her eyes, the quiet caution in them, the silence stretched too tight between every word she’d spoken. But also something else.

That flicker.

Recognition.

He understood why she had come here. To disappear. To breathe without the pressure of too many minds crowding her own. He didn’t know what had driven her into these woods — not yet — but he knew that look in her eyes. The kind of quiet you only found after something inside you had burned down to embers.

And still…She’d looked at him. Really looked. And his wolf had gone so still inside him he thought for a moment it had stopped breathing.

The road leveled out ahead, and he turned onto the wider stretch that led back toward the forest station. The windows were down, the crisp night air tugging at his shirt, and somewhere in the distance, a hawk called — high and lonesome. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to tell John. He didn’t even know what he’d say to her tomorrow. But the part of him that was wolf — the part that had barely stirred for months — was awake now. Watching. Waiting. And wanting.

His jaw clenched. He shifted gears. The truck picked up speed.

By the time the familiar outline of the cabin came into view, warm lights glowing behind curtains and the low sound of laughter echoing from inside, Changbin felt like he’d aged a year on the drive back. He pulled into the gravel lot, the headlights sweeping across the porch where someone had left boots by the steps. The engine groaned to a stop.

He sat there for a moment, unmoving. Letting the weight of the woods settle over him. Letting her scent — finally — fade into memory. Then he opened the door and stepped out into the night.

The scent of rosemary and charred onions greeted Changbin as soon as he stepped inside. The air was warm, thick with the promise of food and the kind of domestic noise that came from too many bodies moving in practiced rhythm.

From the kitchen, Maria’s voice floated in soft Spanish, quick and affectionate as she instructed Felix on how to slice something thinly, not murder it, as she put it. Hyunjin laughed under his breath. Jeongin muttered a protest, clearly the one who’d earned the reprimand. The floor creaked beneath Changbin’s boots, but no one turned — not until he passed the archway into the living room.

John looked up first, shifting carefully in the armchair where his injured arm rested in a black sling. The television was on, some wildlife documentary playing on mute, but the soundless narration couldn’t hold their attention now. Chan sat cross-legged on the couch, a hand loosely cradling a mug of coffee he hadn’t touched. Jisung was slouched beside him, a throw blanket bunched at his hip, his head turning as if drawn by static in the air. Not one of them said a word. But they could smell it.

Her.

The sharp, instinctive awareness of another wolf. Female. Powerful. Present.

John blinked, unaware of the subtle shift in the room, and smiled faintly as he gestured Changbin over. “You made it back fast.” Changbin nodded once and stepped farther inside, ignoring the way Jisung’s eyes practically glowed with unspoken questions. “She still having issues with the boiler?” John asked, flexing his good hand around a mug that had long gone cold. Changbin met Chan’s gaze briefly — quick, silent — before answering. “It’s shot. She’ll need a full replacement.” “Damn.” John leaned back with a quiet exhale. “You think you can take care of it?” “Yeah.” Changbin’s voice was steady, low. “I’ll head over again tomorrow. Late afternoon.”

A soft “oye, te escuché” came from the kitchen as Mary called for her husband. John sighed with a chuckle, then slowly pushed himself to standing. “Duty calls.” As he passed through the doorway, the room shifted.

The moment he was out of earshot, Jisung sat forward, tension crackling like static between his shoulders. “Okay,” he said, eyes wide, voice hushed but sharp. “You were in her cabin?”

Changbin didn’t answer.

“What was it like?” Jisung pressed on, leaning in. “Did she— I mean, what did she smell like?” His grin was sharp, teasing. “Wait—don't lie—was it like, ‘oh no, we might’ve just—’” “Jisung,” Chan said quietly.

The tone was enough.

Jisung stopped mid-word, mouth still open, eyes snapping to Chan like a scolded pup. Chan didn’t look angry — not exactly. Just steady. Grounded. A silent, firm enough. Changbin smirked despite himself, gaze dropping to the floor for half a second. The echo of her still lingered in his chest. That scent, the silence between them, the way the air had shifted the second their eyes had met. He didn’t answer Jisung’s question.

He didn’t need to.

Footsteps behind him stirred the air. Soft, nearly weightless, like a breeze catching leaves. Minho entered the room without a word, his presence so quiet it was almost ghostlike. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes shadowed and unreadable. “I might need help tomorrow,” Changbin said without turning around. His voice was steady, but it carried the edge of something that hadn’t been there earlier.

Chan looked up from where he sat, a hand draped casually over the armrest of the old couch. His expression was calm, but his eyes missed nothing. He nodded once, slow. “Alright.” “I’ll come,” Jisung volunteered instantly, almost too quickly. There was eagerness in his tone, but also curiosity, hunger—for answers, for involvement. “I can handle it.” Chan turned his gaze toward Jisung, his demeanor cooling. “No, you can’t.”

“What?” Jisung looked between them, his tone halfway between a protest and a plea. “I’m not a pup anymore.” “You’re not,” Chan agreed evenly. “But you’re still too green as an Alpha. You don’t walk into something like this unless you know how to hold your center.” Jisung bristled but didn’t argue. He knew better than to push when Chan used that voice—the one that quieted rooms. Chan’s eyes moved past Changbin then, landing on the silent figure in the doorway. The weight of his gaze shifted the energy in the room. Changbin turned his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder.

Minho was watching them, or perhaps just watching him. The older wolf gave no outward sign of emotion, but the air around him was heavy, still. His arms remained crossed, body unmoving, but his eyes met Changbin’s with that unspoken understanding only those like them shared. A moment passed, stretched out like a taut wire. Then Minho gave a single, slow nod.

Jisung groaned aloud. “Seriously? You always get to go.” “Because he doesn’t talk shit in front of other wolfs,” Changbin said without missing a beat. Jisung opened his mouth to protest, but Chan’s gaze flicked to him, sharp and warning. The younger wolf clamped his mouth shut and sank back into his seat with a grumble. Changbin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly in amusement. But it didn’t reach his eyes. Not fully. The scent was still there. Lingering. Threaded into the fibers of his jacket, his skin, his memory.

“Tomorrow afternoon?” Minho asked, his voice low and quiet. Changbin nodded. “Yeah.” “Good,” The other wolf murmured. His tone was less about the boiler and more about the unspoken truths hanging between them all. The fire snapped in the hearth, loud in the pause that followed. They didn’t need words. Not really.

The scent on Changbin was loud enough.

masterlist | prologue | chapter I | chapter II

🐺 taglist; @shoganaiiii, @h0rnyp0t, @maddy24207, @ihrtlix, @alisonyus, @poody1608, @asweetblueberry2, @thatgirlangelb, @rougegenshin, @vampkittenb82, @braveangel777, @dark-moon-light02, @softchannie, @miniverse-zen

[targaryenfelikayt]

Gossamer. |Karl Heisenberg|

wc: 969 summary: sometimes, even in global neutrality, insoluble questions arise, one of which is preferred by a neighbor, while the other actively defends its position. tags/warnings: secret kink for smoking, getting close in a confined space, obvious (and not so obvious) hints about sex, attraction, unspoken feelings. note: I just watched some smoking men on TikTok and this is what came out of it.

The sounds of the ever-working factory carried far beyond its walls, occasionally frightening the villagers with its wild roars and the clanging and crashing of metal erupting from its depths. These noises often drowned out even the harsh winter blizzards, let alone the buzzing summer evenings.

Whenever it happened, people would jump out of their beds, grab whatever few weapons they had, curse the Lord to hell and back, and then retreat, bolting their homes tighter—as if that could really help. They were like the little pigs whose houses the wolf could blow down, whether they were made of straw, wood, or brick.

Empowered by the Cadou, it would have been easy for him to amuse himself by terrorizing the villagers. But his gnawing sorrow, devouring the remnants of his humanity, left only endless irritation in its place, sharp and consuming.

At first, he had been certain this girl was one of Miranda’s lackeys, sent because their "miracle family" gatherings weren’t enough, a traveling circus of freaks. But that everyday anger turned into surprise when he realized she had come from distant lands, stranded in the Romanian backwoods by tragic chance… and somehow ended up at his doorstep.

Muttering to himself, with no one trustworthy around, he sorted through the blueprints only he could fully understand—designs for future living weapons. And he decided: he wouldn’t turn her over to Miranda. Her goals were far simpler reviving her daughter by feeding biological material to the Megamycete. As if that had ever worked.

The November rains had washed away every possible road to his factory, meaning no visits from the other so-called lords and certainly no easy escape plans for the girl.

"Lord Heisenberg," her businesslike tone barely masked a trace of flirtation. "May I ask you a strange question? Though honestly, it doesn't seem so strange to me."

His golden eyes, hidden behind dark round glasses, reluctantly lifted from the piles of metal on the workbench. Once again, she was here, chatting while he worked.

"Dollface, didn’t I tell you not to bother me when I’m working?". A massive gear spun across the room, landing just inches from her shoulder, scattered with tiny freckles he had noticed before.

"You’re always working," she said, tossing a towel over her other shoulder and approaching the table to sit on it. "And I’m tired of freezing my ass off under that ‘shower’, if you can even call it that."

Heisenberg didn’t see the problem: instead of a proper shower cabin, there was a giant drain and a rusted old pipe spraying cold river water. Thanks to the nearby boiler room, the place didn’t turn into an ice rink in winter. Usually.

Comfort, to him, meant survival—nothing more. If it worked, it was good enough.

"First you barge in," he said, snapping his fingers, lighting a flame in his palm. The acrid smell of heavy cigars filled the room as he took a long drag, "and now you’re whining about cold water. Funny, doll, I don’t hear you asking about food or drinking water. Curious, isn’t it?"

From the very first meeting, he'd caught the way her eyes lingered on his little ritual: the Cuban cigar touching weathered lips, his fingers deftly striking a match, savoring the burn. The first puff was the sweetest, the last dragged him back to this grim earth where he kept building an army to buy his freedom.

"Maybe I’m just tired of freezing?" Why was there such tension between them today, when he always kept a teasing, distant neutrality? Preferred his work—or solitary strolls—over company.

"But there is water," he said with a smirk, inhaling deeply. Using his telekinesis, he dragged a chair over and sat down facing her, knees barely brushing hers.

For a fleeting moment, a thought flashed across his mind: one little move, and she’d end up in his lap, calling him Daddy and soaking in his every touch.

"It’s cold," she repeated firmly, giving away nothing.

Heisenberg licked his lips like a well-fed cat and continued casually, smoke curling lazily between them:

"I don't feel uncomfortable," he lied effortlessly. "I think the problem is you, sweetheart. You’re not satisfied with what I’ve generously — and let me stress that — generously given you. And now you want even more."

The absurdity of the conversation kept growing. She wasn’t even sure anymore if they were still talking about the water. She wanted to end this problem herself and regretted ever bringing it up.

Jumping off the table, she swung her leg to step past him when the table behind her scraped loudly against the floor, moved by his will.

"What the hell" she gasped. Heisenberg lowered his glasses, taking in the sight of her ending up exactly where he wanted: straddling his lap, cheeks flushed, whether from anger or proximity, he couldn’t tell.

"Knock off the tricks," she snapped.

He ran his eyes leisurely over her figure, clad in a loose, oversized jumpsuit, then slowly deliberately took one last drag from his cigar. He leaned in, pulled her lower lip down with a rough thumb, and exhaled the smoke into her mouth before claiming it in a filthy, hungry kiss. Like something straight out of a movie no child should ever watch.

"If you tell me to stop," he murmured against her lips, pulling back just enough to let her breathe, "I will."

Her eyes, clouded and wild, darted between him, the room, and the discarded butt of his cigar near the leg of the old chair. Meanwhile, Heisenberg took in her tousled hair, trembling lips, and dazed look regretting, just a little, that it hadn’t happened sooner.

"Karl," she breathed, and he thought he had never heard his name sound more sinful, "if you don’t keep going, I’m gonna kill you."

[bl3pwastaken]

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader

Okay so this was meant to be a one-shot but words got away from me so words are all over the place and there’s hella typos especially since my dyslexia ridden ass didn’t go tf to sleep last night

TW and CW: Hanahaki Disease, angst, hurt/and only for now no comfort, unintentionally toxic(on Law's part), slight mentions of blood, toxic relationship dynamic

also cross posted to Ao3

part 2

Dive through Crystal Waters

Growing up she was promised a myriad of things. Familial security, a quiet calm life from taking over the small botanical business, etc. Many, many, and many more still were promised to her, including that love was patient, kind, gentle, and warm, especially when it would come to whoever would say the cursed words of “I love you” back. Well for starters, she did not end up with a quiet or calm life having ventured into the new world, no familial security having left them behind to chase after her simple dream of supporting that man's dream. Her time on the Polar Tang interrupted her many gifts of promises being fulfilled, including that love would be patient, kind, gentle, and warm. Everyday either a run or fight with the marines, gathering supplies for their journey ahead, run-ins with other pirates were just a few things that were the opposite of the promised life.

The stiff thick fabric of the boiler suit leaving her hands exposed to the chilly cold of the submarine, the cold due to a fault in a valve, reminded her of many cold things. Many akin to the object of her affections, Trafalgar Law, Captain of the Heart Pirates, and head of the seafaring vessel she found herself on these past few years. While she busied herself carrying and towing boxes and crates to and from, helping the other crew where she could, she did her best to remind herself of all the wonderful things dealing with the cold she loved. She reminisced about the cold winter seasons that brought snow, the beautiful droplets from rainy days, that first plunge into cold water when going for a swim. She did whatever it was she could do, only to end up right back where she had started. 

She remembered his steely gray eyes, his gaze hard as steel. His icy cold hands whenever he felt it suited him to spare her even a few seconds of his embrace, often freezing her in place for what felt like hours and days after he was long gone from his presence. His chilly presence reminded her of lonely snowy fields, barren and nothing for miles in site. Although in the beginning, she believed to have known him well, she found herself slammed into the ship-sinking iceberg of his personality. Only the tiniest bit ever shown and the rest buried deep refusing to surface above any waters to welcome you in the open air. 

The crates of spare parts, and repair tools jingled and clinked within their confines. Heavy sounds of a set of boots echoed within the halls as they clunked closer to the boiler room where Shachi and Penguin were waiting for the arrival of the crates’ contents while assessing the pipes and valves for the source of their rather common problem of the newfound chilly air. Stepping into the freezing room her sight is welcomed with Shachi crouching weirdly below a pipe on the wall, Penguin leaning just as strangely on a step stool above the very same pipe, both sharing the same comically stern faces of concentration. The loud echo of the door shutting with an accidental slam led to Shachi shooting up the same instant Penguin sent himself tumbling off of the step stool, both crashing into one another after both had banged their heads on the poor unsuspecting metal of the pipe.

“W-well hey dollface.” Poor Penguin quipped from his newfound place on the floor sprawled awkwardly across Shachi’s lap.

“He-ow- hey short stuff.” The whimpering response of the aforementioned redhead was  drenched in annoyance at the fall; was slumped partially against the wall, his hat skewed on top of his shaggy red tresses of messy hair. Promptly shoving his friend to free his legs from the confines of his friends weight, Shachi scrambled to meet their friend and fellow crew member wordlessly taking the top crate from her hands to ease the load. Having recovered not much long after being shoved, Penguin was right behind to take the crate of tools and repair equipment.

“Thanks for grabbing this for us. Really saved our necks here since a certain bear not only lost what we needed but is too busy napping to go look!” Looking over to a far off corner was Bepo peacefully napping the afternoon away completely unbothered from the growled yell of your ginger friend, box now perched on his hip under his arm. Penguin, already busy grabbing tools and a new valve using a hand to yank at the collar of his uniform in a desperate attempt to cover more of his face to shield from the cold.

“‘Course! Mind if I help?” Already reaching for the remaining materials needed for repair, plumes of soft steam fleeing from her lips into the freezing room as she stated her rhetorical question having already decided she’d help where she could. Even when it came to the mundane and stressful, these two never failed to have her laughing, feeling as though she was in stitches not even halfway through the repair job. Deciding it best to wait here in the boiler room to wait and see if things stabilize and maintain proper functions, the three of them plopped on the floor in the far opposite side to their furry crewmate to avoid disturbing him. After it was done she simply sat between the two taller men as they joked and poked fun at one another, while Bepo was still sound asleep and snoring from his spot in the far off corner of the room. Jokes made minutes to turn to an hour, and jokes slowly faded into stories of childhood. 

Right in the middle of a particularly hilarious story Bepo’s snoring ceased and in walked the man who stole the young woman’s heart. Quickly Penguin and Shachi erupted from their respective spots on either side of you to stand and properly greet their Captain and longtime friend. “ We found and repaired the valve no problemo Law.” Penguin already spouting words at the even taller form of Law as he stood in the slightly warmer space, the two already conversing fondly with one another. More like Penguin spouting words and Law standing there while he smiled and exchanged slightly less friendly quips with their mutual friend, the small chubby penguin on his head slightly bobbing about at each of his expressive movements while he spoke. Something possessing him to look over to where his now long term girlfriend and Shachi were, (Y/N) and his friend giving a friendly wave, her’s a bit more enthusiastic, the other clutching a wrench that was used earlier, while (Y/N) sat with a big grin at seeing him.

“Hey Shachi,” coming over to place a hand on the killer whale hat wearing man,” nice work!” The brother duo happy having their day's work done, waved goodbye to their Captain leaving the three of them with a presumably sleeping Bepo. The other two were already rambling, jumping from joking to arguing and back to jokes, while she was left on the floor smiling at their usual antics. There on her spot on the floor, she couldn’t help but notice that her excited hello wasn’t responded to. Completely left out, and hoping that maybe he just didn’t happen to notice her right there next to the very friend he just walked up to not even moments ago.

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Having finished her menial tasks and not having any remaining energy to help the others any more than she already has she retired to her workspace as the ship's botanist. Upon opening the door you're instantly met with a smell and site that always puts her at ease no matter what. The odor of acidic and alkaline soil, rocks, and processing compost welcomed her in with the warmest of embraces of familiarity and feelings of home. No menial tasks or chores, no Bepo or Shachi and penguin exchanging jokes, no pesky marines determined to take the nearest pirate's head available, and most importantly, no Trafalgar Law. After working the heavy metal door closed, she made an instant attempt of removing her uniform, moving about the room towards her work table like second nature as she had done countless days and times before now, dropping the suit on a stool a couple of feet away from her desk. She looked fondly over the random plant clippings and tools, shuffling through notes to remember where she had left off on her work.

 Currently, at the moment she has plans. Struggling to find a proper time balance between her shared duties as crew and her title as botanist, she needed a new way of ensuring they all got the proper water needed whenever she couldn’t be here, and hopefully free up some of her time for other things.Lost in her scanning of different pages and sketches and notes, the sound of the heavy door was lost to her, along with the approaching presence. Having searched, any stacks of paper she found the needle in the haystack, her irrigation blueprints. 

“Fuck yes! Found you ya sneaky shit.” Holding up the page in triumph, her actions were met with a deep chuckle. Familiar hands found her waist and a head placed on her shoulder was all she needed to know instantly it was her partner in literal crime. 

“Hey baby, what do you have there?” Tilting her head enough to give a quick peck on the side of his temple, she dusted off random specks of dirt from the blueprint shifting her hold on it to where he could see.

“Blueprints for the greenhouse. Do you wanna see?” She was practically buzzing with excitement already mentally prepping a checklist of steps and materials needed to bring the plans to fruition. Not really looking at the paper, and more so focused on the feeling of her butt pressed into his front within the hug, all you got met with was a simple hum followed by,” Yeah that’s cool I guess.” She felt a slight sprinkle on her fiery excitement, fighting against the dying flame.

“Hell yeah, it’s cool. This thing once it’s done will do wonders for my workload and free up so much of my time. Which means I get to bother you more often.” a simple roll of the eyes was her only response. Unslotting his arms from the woman’s middle he stood up with a big stretch, a few cracks gracing the otherwise very silent space. A quick tap to her ass, and a wave was the last she saw as she turned back to the blue crinkled parchment.

“Well, see you later.” and with that, she was again alone, the metal of the door clanging shut sitting heavy on your heart for a reason unbeknownst to you. For some unknown reason this single piece of paper that had previously brought you so much excitement, that lit the fire of passion in your belly, was all but the size of a matchstick now. Still there but much smaller prior to your love’s visit. Quietly placing the paper aside to be mixed in with the barrage of other papers, she went on to grab a recent plant clipping of a medicinal plant and silently set to work on propagating. The page lay just as still and quiet as she left it, leaving it to be forgotten. The dirt and grime of her heart sprouting the first painful seeds of a hard to name feeling whispered in the recesses of her being, sitting alone in the room with nothing but herself and her plants.

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The calm of night had settled and blanketed the sky, and there she was tangled in Law’s sheets, and him not present. It wasn’t anything new, in fact, it was something she found herself slowly getting used to finally after the past several months. Unable to sleep and restless, but lacking the willpower and motivation to move, she stayed in the spot she lay, glancing at the alarm clothing mounted on the bedside table. The green neon read 1:00 A.M. This used to resound a painful stab to her chest at one point, but all she was met with was nothing but the cold spot beside her. Following the knowledge of routine he would be back here in the captain’s quarters anywhere from 2:30 to 4:50, Law gone either messing around with his medical equipment or doing whatever the hell he does all the way into these late hours of night. For the first time in these several months, she felt it. That haunting stab to her chest, and all because she remembered how things used to be.

She remembers how once those steely eyes ignited something in her, and how they’d never fail to spark a smile into action. She remembers feeling like anything she wanted to know about him, Law would present her the book of his life as if ready to read off any page from within it. She remembers how his hugs once made her feel so safe and warm while he would hold her head or back, and would whisper his adoration for her. She remembers when she started sleeping in the same room, they’d walk back together, or being only behind by a few minutes to join her in loving cuddles within the covers of the bed. Now she gets his dick pressed into the back of her pants if she’s lucky, or his hugs accompanied by a grope of the tits or squeeze of her bottom at best, and they're only fleeting. 

Here in this bed remembering the sickeningly sweet memories, she laid in the cold room alone. The vines of loneliness spread roots in her heart, a tickle in her throat, and a stinging behind her eyes. Sitting up with an abrupt violent cough she turned away from the door completely missing the three petals of pure white jasmine laid where she coughed into the duvet, and let the sweet embrace of sleep carry her away for the night.

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The sound of the door closing was what pulled (Y/N) back into the world of consciousness. Feeling the faint hints of warmth drenching the sheets next to her within the bed, she scooted closer to what would normally being the toned chest of Law, which normally was followed by and arm draping over her waist to pull her closer while he grumbled something incoherent in his sleepy state. However, she was met only with empty space. The warmth she thought was her lover, just residual heat that was quickly fading in the cool private quarters, Law having already left to start the day. Sitting up and adjusting her sleeping top, attempting to peer around through sleep drunk eyes, she turned to look at the alarm clock beside her once again, taking note the time was now 8:30 in the morning.  Groggily sweeping her feet to the floor, she meandered into the attached bathroom smelling the scent of men’s body wash and shampoo, the steam barely left in the room, only a bit of condensation on the edges of the mirror were what remained. 

Deciding it best to keep it short and sweet she gave a quick scrub of her body before feeling that similar tickle in her throat as last night. The feeling much like leaves brushing against your arm scraped at her chest. Finished, clean and feeling sick to her stomach, she quickly grabbed her towel from the wall hook, and crouched in front of the toilet. The feeling at first creeping, now screaming at her coughs into the porcelain. Vision blurred, body screeching something was wrong, all she did was ignore them, fumbling around for the toilet lever and wiping away the viscous liquid from her chin. The dark fabric of the towel hid the vermillion shade of her blood from her unknowing gaze. She stumbled to the sink, and when she finally got a glimpse of herself, she had to be perfectly honest. She looked awful. She was paler, dark circles creeping beneath her eyes nestled on puffy eye bags, her skin slightly blotchy with discoloration, her hair a frizzled mess and slightly thinner. A telltale she was sick. “Guess I’m dying,” completely unaware of the accuracy of her deprecating jab.

Now dressed and brushing her teeth she felt a repeated soft brush of something on her hand, a sticky feeling on her jaw. Figuring she maybe didn’t clean her face enough, there in the reflection was a red stained Jasmine petal sitting right smack above her jawline. Without a second thought and only finding it a slightly weird inconvenience she snatched the petal off of her and into the trash bin beside the counter. Stepping out as ready as she could manage for herself in prep of the day she left the bathroom. The lone bloody petal lay among random rubbish in the bin, a silently screaming warning at her incoming doom, and a cacophonous silent warning to Law. Both begrudgingly unaware of what was happening right under their noses.

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Breakfast was the same as it has been these past several months. Everyone laughing, arguing, planning courses or discussing the day ahead while you quietly sat at the far opposite end of Law next to Bepo. (Y/N) stopped trying to get even a word in at this point when it came to breakfast, or even lunch and dinner for that matter. She learned a few months ago after she kept trying that everytime she opened her mouth to say something or even in the middle of a statement, Law would simply interrupt and interject whatever he had to say. Occasionally Bepo being the sweety he was would ask if his dear friend was okay or nudge her into continuing what she had to say, and all that was given in response was a small nod and a smile that was meant to be reassuring. 

The rest of the day went as normal, the usual shenanigans happening like clockwork. Crew hurriedly shuffling about, cleaning, fixing random things that need their attention in the Polar Tang, Bepo finishing his work to lay around unconsciously inconveniencing Shachi and Penguin with their tasks, the usual of most usual day happenings. Then there was Law. He either cooped up in the exam room giving a random physical or checking in on his crews health, or he was fucking off somewhere to do whatever he as Captain did nowadays. She attempted to not put too much on herself knowing she’d be on watch duty tonight, doing her best to distract from the winding churning feeling in her chest as she swept slowly, trying and barely succeeding in catching her breath.

“(Y/N), I’m not going to show preferential treatment just because you’re with me, so stop slacking off.” Law’s voice came from somewhere behind her followed by fading footsteps. The feeling in her chest only worsened beyond it’s original state just moments prior to being reprimanded. With a shake of her head she went back to sweeping the deck in prep for meeting up with the Kid Pirates tomorrow. The meeting had something to do with a temporary alliance while they agreed to help one another look for their own things apparently located on some island everyone was prepping to head to in search of their own personal items of interest. The thought of seeing Killer and Heat managed to put a small smile on her face. Both men incredibly sweet despite their rough exteriors, and proving to be genuinely nice friends she feels she’ll always hold dear. Not feeling like there is anything left in her day to day to look forward to anymore, knowing she’d get to see them both eased the subtle darkening of her thoughts. 

Night took forever to reach the sky, and now that it’s night, morning was taking just as long, the only sign of it being close to morning being the slightly brightening shades of blue in the sky, stars slowly fading from their painting in the sky. Another part of day by day was just taking place, that being (Y/N) ripping her own heart to shreds at reminiscing on the good old days with her, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. All four of them were the only crew for a while. The same menial tasks and chores, but they felt more fun, more wonderful and meaningful. It was back when you felt close with not just Shachi and Penguin and Bepo, but with the love of your life also. Suddenly she was hit with another one of her recent coughing fits, this time having no choice but to notice the rush of Jasmine petals rush from her mouth and onto the floor below her, red specks of color sprinkled randomly on the petals. Shaking slightly from the sheer aggressiveness of the coughs she took a petal into one of her shaky palms bringing it up to her face to look more closely at it.

“Jasmine?” The creeping feeling grew bigger than ever, sensations of vines entangling around her lungs, almost like they had an attempt to comfort her in this moment, only ending up nearly suffocating her in the process.

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Deciding it was about damn time to make an effort in comforting herself, she decided why not get dressed up, pay extra attention to her face by applying skincare and makeup, doing her hair in her favorite style, wearing her favorite outfit, and ditching the boiler suit uniform for the Heart Pirates, in preparation of seeing her two friends that were currently anchored next to the Polar Tang just outside. Having finished and feeling satisfied with her appearance finally feeling put together and not dead looking anymore, it was as though it provided slight relief and proved to be just the distraction needed for the horrible physical sensations that seemed to greet her more than her own lover did nowadays. 

With a skip in her step, the sub’s botanist made her way up deck to hurriedly scramble to the helmet wearing KIller and a giant absolute unit of a human(or what she assumed) Heat. The two immediately lighting up at the sight of you climbing onto Victoria Punk the two huge men jogging over to greet you. Heat already having snatched you off the wooden floor of the deck into a bone crushing hug, the blue haired man completely unaware of the strangled mutters of “I can’t breathe” and “too tight”, only really noticing when Killer gave him a quick jab in the side.

Just as she was set down, and air flooded her poor lunges, while Heat busied himself instantly with apologizing profusely, Killer the the botanist moving to give reassuring pats on his shoulder for comfort through his seemingly endless sputtering. A loud wrathful scream boomed out onto the deck of Victoria Punk, the three pirates turning their attention to the source to find Kid and Law exiting one of the doors seeming to be mid squabble.

“You mean to tell me, you dragged me into a stupid fuckass alliance over a dumb fucking flo-mmMMm” and as quickly as whatever words were leaving Captain Eustass Kid’s mouth, Law deemed a just as quick smother of the hand was the appropriate thing to do. None of the trio really all that worried even if a fight were to break out, knowing they both could handle themselves continued on about their impatient greetings, Killer taking a much gentler approach of ruffling the young woman’s hair instead of the agro death grip hug from Heat.

Using the sleeves of her shirt to cover her mouth, she excused herself briefly as (Y/N) felt the burning of a coughing fit coming on, rushing to a private place to upchuck more jasmine petals. Pulling her hand back to further look at the damage, there was a visible increase in the number of petals, and within her hand sat a full fluffy plume of a jasmine. The flower looked as though it was covered in red morning dew. This flower being one of the few final warnings of her impending death.

[trekscribbles]

Failsafe: Chapter Four

...I came across the John Rogers line "Eliot's job is to be the failsafe that never fails". And I couldn't help thinking... What happens if the failsafe does fail?

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3.)

Parker’s plan was simple.

1. Get everyone out of the hospital.

2. Cause a distraction.

3. Rescue Eliot.

Step one wasn’t hard. It was a small hospital—too small to have attracted the talents of the overqualified Dr. Grossman, really, and that should have been more of a red flag. They hadn’t even performed surgeries before Grossman started there 2 years before. The morgue had been a new addition, too, built with money Grossman donated. Maybe that was what had kept the community from turning on him when his patients started dying. Maybe they just hadn’t connected the dots yet.

Regardless, the hospital was small enough to close in the evening, and based on the schedule posted by the security room door, it didn’t even have guards overnight. That was probably Grossman’s doing, too.

Parker’s dislike for the man increased with every passing moment.

The security guard met her in the lobby as Carmen was gathering her things to leave, and Parker faked a smile as he escorted them both out of the building and told them that the parking lot was clear of whatever trouble had been going on before. Carmen waved good night, reminded Parker to give her the details of her date the next morning, and left, and Parker circled the grounds and waited for the security guard to lock up. Hardison would be hiding in the safety of the janitor’s closet, and the guard should be finishing up in just a few...

The front door opened, and Parker watched as he whistled his way out to his car, started it, and left.

Then she jogged back to the door and picked the lock before slipping inside.

Hardison met her in the lobby. “Ready?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Parker gestured toward his ear, but he shook his head. “It’s in my pocket. I just checked in with Nate—he’s still 15 minutes out.”

“Eliot may not have that long,” Parker said.

Hardison nodded. “I know. We can’t wait.”

Relief prickled through her. She’d been willing to act on her own, but she was glad she didn’t have to.

“I should be able to cut the power from the basement,” Hardison went on. “I found the building schematics in the security room. But the power panel’s on the opposite end of the building from the morgue, so we’ll have to find our way in the dark.”

“Not a problem,” Parker said. She took off at a jog, and Hardison followed without a word.

There were no men on this side of the basement—they’d checked on the cameras—but they were silent as they descended the stairs and made their way slowly over the concrete floor. Exposed pipes and ductwork lined the ceiling, and the air felt damp and cold against Parker’s face. The fuse box was on the only finished wall, tucked between two sections of drywall like the treasure at the end of one of Hardison’s video game levels. Parker stepped aside to let Hardison at it, and in seconds, he had the door open and his finger poised above a breaker.

“Our comms won’t work here,” Hardison reminded her in a whisper. “Something’s interfering with the signal.”

“We’ll contact Nate as soon as we have Eliot.”

“All right. Ready?”

She nodded.

The lights went out.

Parker wasn’t afraid of the dark. She’d spent too much time in the shadows to feel afraid, exactly, but in the chill of the basement, with a maze of boiler and storage rooms between them and the morgue and at least 7 probably armed men to contend with, Parker felt her heart rate speed up as she waited for her eyes to adjust.

But Eliot needed help, and she wasn’t going to let him down.

Parker led the way through the darkness by the distant orange glow of an exit sign. She had seen enough from the security cameras to create a map in her mind, and she ran her hand along the wall to count the doors, her footsteps silent. Hardison moved so close behind her that she could feel his breath on her neck.

They passed the last storage room and crept through the exit sign’s flickering light at the base of the second staircase, then plunged back into darkness on the other side. The morgue was close now. Parker set her hand on the heavy metal flashlight on her belt, both of which she’d taken from the security room, and strained her ears for the sound of voices.

Everything was quiet.

She paused. They were close now, and should have been able to hear something, unless the men who’d taken Eliot had guessed that this was a rescue.

If they had, they would be waiting.

Her fingers skipped over a doorframe, and she held out her hand to find the handle, to rip it open and surprise the men inside—but it was already open. She reached back to keep Hardison in the hall and inched forward on her own, her eyes wide to catch any glimmer of light inside.

Nothing. There was no movement, no sound.

No Eliot.

“He’s not here,” she whispered.

Hardison pressed against her. “They moved him?”

“Maybe they panicked when the lights went out.”

His voice was faint with anxiety. “Then we have to get back upstairs.”

She backed out of the room and took his hand to make sure he followed her, but he stopped short. “Parker,” he breathed. “There’s something...”

She saw it. A darker smudge of black on the floor ahead of them, blocking their path. Parker crept closer and kneeled to reach out with tentative fingers.

It was a body.

She ran her hand along the fallen man’s arm, trying to recognize the clothing by touch alone. A jacket. Eliot was still wearing scrubs from his role as Dr. Baker. This wasn’t him.

“Come on,” she whispered. “We’re almost—”

A choking sound cut her off. She stood, spinning to face Hardison, who had jerked away from her with a strangled cry. His feet scuffed against the floor, and he flailed—she couldn’t see him, but she heard the struggle. She cried out and lunged for him, and her nails raked down the bare arm across Hardison’s throat.

The man behind Hardison struck out with one hand, hitting her in the shoulder with an open palm and forcing her back a step as he twisted to pull Hardison to the ground. Parker staggered, tore the flashlight free of her belt, and scrabbled for the switch.

A white beam cut through the darkness. The man who’d attacked them grunted and ducked his head, and Hardison slumped out of his grasp, his eyes closed, his body limp.

He didn’t get up.

The man was breathing hard, crouched on one knee over’s Hardison body, and Parker couldn’t move. He tossed his hair out of his bloody face and rose to face her, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes slitted against the light.

Parker swallowed a sob.

“Eliot?”

[amunyan]

Warnings: smut...

Carefully you look around the changing room. "Good - I'm the last one. Now I just have to be quick."

Against your nature, you took your time after training. You volunteered to help tidy up the gym, asked a few more or less serious questions about some of the techniques, only to be alone now.

"Even though we are all women... I am still too shy..."

Wrapped in a towel, you undress clumsily. Then, armed with shampoo and soap, you enter the communal shower.

Another thing you never thought would happen. But because of the current problems in your block of flats...

Fortunately, the janitor was able to fix the problem with the power cut last week. But even he thought it would be better to call in a professional. Well, the expert arrived yesterday. Just an apprentice, it seems, but he was very confident and soon found the cause: a large leak in the technical room where the washing machines are located. It was not hard to miss it, as it was right next to the machines and everyone knew about it somehow, but shrugged it off anyway. A big mistake, because this leak was just a small part of a bigger one, hidden behind the washing machines.  So it was not long before the culprit behind the blackouts was found. One of the washing machines was to blame, as water had leaked into its circuit from a burst pipe. To fix the problem, the water was temporarily turned off that day to replace the broken pipe. But the electricity in the basement was left off for the time being to prevent a short circuit. And as the boiler was also in the basement, there was no hot water for a few days. Until the apprentice's boss accepted everything... So you had to... The other option was an ice-cold shower at home; and you were clearly more of a hot shower type.

"I hope this is the only time I have to do this..." you say to yourself as you turn on the tap. You still feel more than uncomfortable...

The warm water echoes in the tiled room. You quickly wet your hair and body. But you take a moment to enjoy the warm water on your skin. You close your eyes and lean back a little - a big mistake for beginners. Moments later, you jump when you hear the door to the changing room open.

"What the hell? Who else is there? Wait a minute... That's right. I forgot all about her."

"Nice view. Mind if I join you, (Y/N)?"

Mereoleona is standing in the doorway to the open communal shower in the changing room - yes, they really had skimped on the door and privacy here. Probably because no one would ever shower here anyway.

"Huh?!" You don't really have a chance to disagree, because Mereoleona doesn't wait for an answer. She quickly undresses and is now standing next to you in the shower. You don't even dare to look at her, because you are way too busy to cover your breasts and the area between your legs.

 "Calm down, (Y/N). You have seen her naked many times before. And so has she...", you try to confince yourself. "So why am I so nervous?"

This is a total lie. Maybe you have seen her, because she doesn't mind. But has she seen you? No...

"Hey, don't be shy, sweetheart. It's just us. But still..." She pauses and looks at you. Slowly from top to bottom and back again. "You never took off your towel in the sauna until now..." Mereo adds with a grin. "So; why are you here? I never expected to see you showering. Especially not here." She says, turning on the tap of the shower next to yours.

"Neither did I," you reply with an awkward smile on your lips. "But the showers here are more comfortable than mine at home, after the hot water ran out yesterday..."

"Problems in your home again?"

You nod, "Yes. But maybe they finally found the problem. It will just take a while to fix it."

"I see... And you really put up with the public shower here? Instead of asking me for help?" She looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you just nod silently with your lips pressed together.

"Next time you need help, you came to me, understood? You can always ask me, you know."

You nod again, this time a little uncertain.

"Well, at least I get the pleasure of showering with you."

Your eyes drift back to the ground. You can't stand her intense gaze. Nor that she was so casual about this. In comparison, your heart is beating so hard in your chest. On the one hand, you want to escape the situation. On the other hand, you want to stay.

"Can I borrow your soap?"

"Huh? Sure... But didn't you bring your own?"

"Hell, no. I usually shower at home. Well, would you be so kind?" She holds out her hand and you hand her your soap while you wash your hair.

"Goodness, if she doesn't have anything with her, why is she showering here? At first I thought she showered here regularly - she's the type. But now? But not really because of me?" You allow yourself the thought and blush even more than you already do. "What's she up to? She was very engaging and possessive on Sunday too. She cuddled me in front of everyone, called me hers and then kissed me on the forehead." You think about it for a moment, but you don't know exactly how to take it. At least you don't want to see the obvious.

In a careless moment, as you turn to rinse every last bit of foam from your hair, you feel hands on your back. Warm fingers sliding gently over your skin. You jump. Your heart starts beating like crazy.

"Mereo? What are you doing?" You notice that your voice is shaking.

"Just taking the chance to help you soap up." She replies with a kind of devilish smile on her lips.

You don't know how to react when her hands touching your skin. It feels soft and gentle as she rubs your back. Even though you wanted something like this, you could not bring yourself to admit it. You are still too busy being shy and ashamed of the situation, your brain has not processed yet.

Instead of feeling, you think about whether this is wrong or not.

"It's okay," you nervously try to convince yourself again. "We're both women... and maybe this is just a normal thing for female friends to do. Or in general. In Japan, people wash each other's backs, if I'm not mistaken. So... I've lost count of how many times we've been in the sauna and so on together..."

Mereoleona's touches become stronger and it's not just your back she's soaping up.

"Where is this going? Is this still normal between friends? She has always been the touchy type. But this?"

Slowly, her fingers have moved down your back to your hips, moving forward over your stomach as she moves closer to you.

Your heart is pounding harder against your chest. Your breathing accelerates. "She'll notice..."

As Mereo strokes your breasts, you have to bite your lower lip to stifle some naughty noises. Your mind goes crazy and you take a small step back, closer to her. You want to touch her too… "Damn it."

You both pause as you hear the door to the changing room swing open, followed by hurried footsteps and cursing. Not only do you catch the voice, but from your point in the shower you can see a little of the changing room. Mina, that's the name of the person, who just entered the room. A sweet but clumsy girl who always forgets something. The young woman ignores the sound of the shower. Still. You and Mereo cannot react quickly enough, alone the fact that Mina is too busy with whatever can save you. At least for the moment.

"What a snot... She always forgets something," you hear Mereoleona mutter.

But you don't even dare to breathe. You just hope that Mina will quickly find what she's looking for and leave. And don't see you two here. Don't see you and your trainer doing dirty things in the shower...

Only now do you realise that Mereoleona still has her hands on your breasts. Even though she's only touching them, it sends shivers down your spine. You can't stand them any longer. She should either fuck you here and now or take her hands off yours. But under these circumstances...

"Mereo..." you whisper, breathing heavily. "Can you please take your hands off my breasts. I...."

"Why? Mina will leave any moment."

"But I can't stand it any longer. Please..."

"Thank God. Here it is." Mina happily takes the scarf she thought she had lost. It is only now that she notices the shower is turned on. "Oh... someone else is here?" She whispers under her breath.

"See? She seems to have her stuff. She will leave any minute. Just a little longer, sweetheart." She gives you a couple of little kisses on your shoulder. "I didn't expect you to react like that. I haven't even started yet..."

"This isn't helping. You should stop moving. Please! I am already so damn wet, and not because of the water."

You can't see Mina, but you can hear her footsteps. You still hope she would be leaving by now. But it doesn't look like it...

She walks around the room, coming closer. Perhaps she has noticed your coach's clothes, which she has taken off in a mess, almost in a hurry, and thrown on the floor outside the shower room. Mina, the eldest of the three sisters and a cleaning fiend, would probably be drawn to these clothes like a moth to a flame... Nevertheless; Mereo doesn't seem to care. Or she hasn't noticed. She is still busy spreading kisses on your shoulders, which slowly turn into tender bites and leave their mark. But as she moves, her hands also do. She now pinches your nipples with her thumb and forefinger, probably unintentionally. "Mereo... You can't do this to me. Not now..."

Almost desperately, you free yourself from her grip, grab her wrists and push her against the wall. But she seems to enjoy it. Her wide grin even reveals her fang. She doesn't know what that smile is doing to you. But maybe she senses it.

"Shhh...!" you look at her and listen through the splashing water.

She still stares at you with a mischievous grin. "I didn't know you could be so wild..."

"Mereoleona..." you sigh and look directly at her now. "You know how much I like you and I would not mind if you continue to make me feel your fingers not only on me but also inside me. But now is not the time! So... would you please stop and wait quietly until Mina is really gone?"

For a moment there is only the sound of the shower. Your friend's gaze had passed you by for a moment, but now she looks back at you with a meaningful grin, suppressing a small laugh. "I think you're the one who's been too loud..."

Your eyes widen and you turn bright red with foreboding. Slowly, Mereo still fixated on the tiled wall of the bathroom, you turn your head towards the door.

Mina, who is actually standing in the doorway with the clothes in her hand, looks at you in complete bewilderment. Her face is as red as yours. Completely shocked, she drops the stuff she had picked up. "Mina! I... I... It's not..." You try to explain yourself, letting go of Mereoleona's wrists as you move towards her.

But you don't know how to explain this. It's not what it looks like? You didn't really know what it is... Or maybe it's exactly what it looks like?

"It's all right, it's all right," the other young woman sounds almost hysterical. "It's my fault. It's my fault. I'll... I'll go back then. I didn't see anything... I'm sorry!"

"Wait!?" You shuffle towards the door, wanting to say something in your defence.

Only to watch Mina stumble hurriedly out of the changing room, when your potential girlfriend hugs you from behind again.

"You get used to the nudity. But..." Mereo's face cames closer to your ear. "Do you really want me to put my fingers inside you? We can continue right now if you want. We've scared off the little intruder."  She grins at you cheekily, almost defiantly.

"Please forget what I said..." With a pained look on your face, you push her away and leave the shower in shame.

[solar083]

Hello Solar! Do you only work at one location or are you moved around? Because I imagine that a bot dedicated to repair and maintenance (and one actually competent at the task at that) is sorely needed at most if not all Fazbear locations. It certainly is the case for most of the locations I am stationed at. And I can not see Fazbear Ent. shelling out for more of bots like you if they do not have to.

Also, quick repair question, if a boiler pipe bursts and it is "fixed" temporarily by forcing scrap metal around it, how dangerous is that in the long term?

-SSP

I work at only one location, thank god. I mean, uh. How do I say this... I'm not. technically. in their system. Basically I don't exist in Fazbear's eyes. Officially.

Excuse me what? Scrap metal for a bursted pipe? What kind of idiot does that? Even using duct tape would have been a significantly better solution that whatever this is. Using scrap metal does. not. make. it. watertight. Which means it doesn't fix the fucking problem.

[teenycat]

I saw your post requesting lore!!

So, basically; a healthy amount of years after the apocalypse, everybody settles down with their partners (if they end up having one), right?

Well, in Jack's case; him and June have a daughter that I'm deciding the name of right now. Her and Zyndrii end up being close friends in school, and their Freshman Year; they end up dating (LESBIANS!!! EW /j). For later clarification; Jack isn't homophobic, or racist (obviously; his best friend's a black dude :skull:), he just doesn't like the woman his daughter chose to date! Why? Because of who her father is.

Due to trauma resulting from what Thrull pulled during the Apocalypse (tryna summon Rezzoch n all that; which Andrea DEFINITELY beat his ass for), Jack despises anything having to do with him, and wishes to eliminate any threat of him coming back to power. Now; he normally wouldn't go to such extremes, but the cosmic hand DOES have its influence!

Later in the storyline; he calls his daughter off school, saying she's "sick". Zyndrii was bummed that her girlfriend didn't come to school that day, but as far as she knew; her partner actually was sick, so she wasn't gonna bother them as they "recovered" from their "illness". That's funny, because that SAME day; the school's boiler-room had a problem in it.

The school staff had told students to stay away from the area as they worked, but being the curious little shits they were; Zyndrii and Caspian decided to (at least) look into the room. THAT was (probably) the worst decision the twins ever made. Hell; that was Jack's plan all along.

The two were JUST outside the lethal blast-range, but the injuries still cost Zyndrii the right half of her face; Caspian, a leg. With what little she could see; Zyndrii made an attempt to carry her twin to a safer location, and hopefully do something to slow down the bleeding (if not stop it entirely). As soon as they settled in the chemistry room; where Zyndrii thought she could find something to disinfect their shared wounds, the gas pipes in that one blew up as well! The injuries from there sliced away BOTH of Caspian's eyes, and begin the wound that would later help Jack sever Zyndrii's right arm at the elbow.

..As the twins SOMEHOW managed to make it back down to the first floor of the school; they saw him. The bastard that did all of this; Jack, even if he wasn't in full control. The Cosmic Hand had taken up all of his right arm, and the right half of his face; coincidentally, the parts the attacks maimed on Zyndrii. Her voice was hoarse, but she still found the strength to yell; to ask why the hell he was doing this. As if, in a VERY fucked-up way, he wound up answering her question. When the question fully left her mouth; he grabbed her by the throat, grabbed the lower part of her right arm as well, and then (via the Cosmic Hand) began showing her twisted visions of what her father did in the past. By the time the visions closed off; a brutal melody of bone-snapping, and flesh ripping ensued. This left her with a bloody stump of a right arm; bone jutting out of maimed flesh. As this mauling ensued; a scream left her body that resembled the King Wretch (a reference to Thrull's ability to mimic Blarg in the show), this shriek of death being the only reason Jack stopped at the lower part of her arm. The screaming had shattered the first floor's windows, and alerted the first-responder's vehicles, that were about to leave, that there was still SOMEONE alive..

Jack then ran off; still under the influence of the Cosmic Hand, as he knew that THEY (Thrull and Andrea) were coming. Even if being used (partially) as a puppet by an interdimensional parasite; he knew better than to fight a couple of pissed-off parents without a blade and prayer. Plus; he still had a soft-spot for the woman that acted as his mother (Andrea) during the apocalypse.

Once he left; Zyndri (somehow) managed to ignore her own injuries for a moment, and scoop what was left of Caspian's (somehow not dead) body onto her back, and limp her way to the front door. As soon as she managed to push that door open though; she passed out from blood loss. It was an honest wonder she didn't pass out sooner!

At the sight of their children half-dead, Andrea simply fainted; the emotions hitting her body too quickly to react in any other manner. Thrull, however, was far more.. boisterous; with his reaction to the situation. He hadn't cried this hard since the twins were BORN; a symphony from yowls of terror and fury left his throat, as he tried to wrestle his way closer to the scene. He had almost killed a couple people HIMSELF, as he tried to get closer to his and Andrea's children. He made demands to be allowed to see them as they were loaded up into respective ambulances, and cursed threats to whoever did this (understandably so).

(hmu if you wanna yap about and doodle concepts together!!)

jack on his JD arc planting bombs in the boiler room

veronica del toro kinda has a ring to it... /hj

ok in all seriousness this is. so ffxjdisksing good the ANGST. i have known these half monster kids for less than a month and already im attached

i feel like the years leading up to this mustve been WILD

with jack like. literally fighting off demons through his adolescence and eventually as he tries to settle down with a family?? AND he wants a guy who lives in the same neighborhood dead??

have a lot of stuff to work on this week, but this weekend i will probably wipe the dust off my discord acc and use it

[heimundhandwerk]

Pumpkin Cupcakes with Hard Chocolate on top:

It's the last day of autumn and I just managed to make my favourite autumn time dessert. It turned out so well I decided to share, so here it is.

200g all-purpose flour

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda (or bicarbonate of soda)

1 tsp salt

1 tsp cinnamon

1-2 tsp pumpkin spice (1/8 tsp ground cloves. 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg, allspice, ginger each. 1 tsp ground cinnamon).

120ml vegetable oil

2 large eggs

150g brown sugar

300-400g pumpkin puree*

1 tsp vanilla extract

Milk chocolate

White chocolate (optional)

Makes 12 cupcakes.

Preheat oven to 180°C (350°C) fan-forced and prepare cupcake tin (delay turning oven on if making your own puree).

Combine puree with brown sugar, then mix in dry ingredients.

Once slightly combined (not need to fully combine it) add in wet ingredients.

Mix until fully combined, the oil is the problem child in this equation because if not fully incorporated it will seperate if batter is left to sit.

Pour into cupcake tin and bake in oven for 20-25 min.

Check with toothpick before removing, if it comes away with wet batter it isn't done, but toothpicks shouldn't come away completely dry either. We want the cupcake to be moist when you bite into it and the residual heat will continue to bake it even when removed.

Let cupcakes cool completely.

Once cooled, melt milk chocolate over a double boiler (I prefer Cadbury because I don't trust the store brand chocolate) and spoon/frost it onto the top of each cupcake.

This part is optional, but if you want spiderweb designs, melt some white chocolate over a double boiler and pour into ziplock bag.

Cut off just the tip of one of the corners of the ziplock bag and use to pipe a spiral on top of the milk chocolate. It does not need to be neat.

Take a tooth pick and from the centre of the spiral drag the tip of the toothpick outwards. It's important to make sure your milk chocolate isn't set or cooled. Repeat all around the cupcake until you get a spiderweb.

Put cupcakes in the fridge to let the chocolate set.

Once set you'll get a delicious crack of the chocolate topping when you bite into the cupcake. I chose not to go with the spider design because chocolate expensive and I honestly didn't feel like embellishing the cupcakes when I was just making them for me.

Hope you guys enjoy!

(Notes about pumpkin puree and making your own for this recipe under the cut)

*I prefer to make my own puree as I struggle to find canned puree. You can roast or steam the pumpkin but which method you choose will impact the water content of the puree. Water content is key to the moist consistency of this cupcake hence why I give a 100g range. It's best to use personal judgement with this part.

Roasting adds a wonderful depth of flavour to the puree but it can reduce the water content of the puree (depending on if you roast it whole or cubed).

Steaming is fast and and makes it easier to mash the pumpkin by hand, but it also adds a lot of water.

My solution is to weigh your pumpkin after the skin and seeds have been removed (if possible) and make note of it. Your pumpkin needs to be within the aforementioned weight range before cooking.

After roasting your pumpkin, weigh again and find the difference between weights. You'll want to replace at least half the weight lost with water (or a liquid of your choosing) when blending. I also suggest when roasting you add the salt needed to the pumpkin (just a tip).

If steaming, weigh again after steaming and squeeze out any excess water until you get close to its original weight (needs to be within the range).

As mentioned before, the range is important to get that moist consistency, somewhere between a cupcake and a fritter. The ratio of flour to pumpkin should be between 1:2 or 1:1.5 (2:3 to b more "correct").

[azazelflare]

Freddy Krueger X Reader: It’s You

Minors DNI 

CW: dream sex, claiming, cum swallowing, hard fucking

AO3

You knew Freddy as a teen, you would babysit his daughter before the fiasco. You fell asleep one night after finishing your book. When you opened your eyes, you were in a boiler room. You could feel the heat against your skin. You touched the pipe experimentally and you felt your skin burning. You quickly pulled your arm back, you turn your head and you see a man standing in front of you. He had a red and green striped sweater and a brown fedora on. He walked closer to you with his hand, which you quickly realized were knives on a glove, scraping against the pipes. You start to feel scared seeing him walk toward you. He makes it about a foot from you, you are unable to move from your spot. He reaches toward you with his knife hand and you flinch back when he scratched your cheek. You tried to speak but he just shushed you, his unclawed hand holding your chin. You feel his textured skin against you and he smirks at you. “Hey doll. Been a while, hasn’t it?” your eyes widen at the nickname. “Freddy? What the fuck? How’d this happen?” he looked at you, a large smile on his lips. “Well, I made a deal with a demon, now I’m a dream demon.” you looked confused, wondering if this was a dream. “Of course, this is a dream! How else am I supposed to visit you?” You must have said that out loud. He chuckled at you. He pulls you closer to him, his claws digging into your arm. His mouth catches yours and you moan into the kiss. You wrap your arms around him and his eyes widen as you deepen the kiss. He releases the kiss “You have no idea how long I've waited to do that. Ever since I heard you and Loretta fighting that one day, I’ve wanted to kiss you.” His jaw drops at that statement. You just turned 18 that day and you were babysitting Kate and heard them fighting. You continued to play with her till they were done, being a much-needed distraction for her. When he was caught, you kept Kate with you. She stayed with you until CPS took her. When he was found innocent and burnt, you saw the parents kill him. His screams echo in your ears from time to time. Unknown to you, he heard your screams through the fire. He heard you trying to put out the fire with anything close by. When you were dragged back by the cops, you screamed bloody murder. He heard your screams and thought they did something to you as well. When the demons came and made a deal, you were on his mind. He not only made the deal for revenge for himself but also for you. He was not going to make the same mistake again. When he felt you were dreaming he made himself known, in all honesty, he missed you. He was happy when he saw your face again, ten years have really done wonders for you. Your face had lost the acne, and your hair has a little gray streak from the stress of that night. He runs his fingers through your hair, he holds the strip softly. “This is from them, isn’t it?” you nod and you have tears gathered in your eyes. The trauma from that night caused more problems than it solved. You are the town outcast, you couldn’t even buy groceries from the store because every time you went, the other people would glare and sneer at you. Kids would even whisper that you were the devil's bride and you shouldn’t get close. You resorted to buying groceries in another town. Freddy grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a hug. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You see his ear close to your mouth and you nip and lick at it. He lets out a moan at your antics. He pushes you up against the railing and bends you over it. Your shirt bunches up and he sees the tattoo on your lower back. He smirks seeing the red butterfly, “I see you’ve gotten around, butterfly huh?” you blush and answer him. You were in mourning for a while, and you used sex to heal. His smirk grew larger at your words. You hear his belt unbuckle and a zipper, you wiggle your hips at him and he laughs. “Fucking slut, you need this, don’t you?” a gag appears in your mouth and you nod, whimpering at him. His hand cups your core and his fingers start to play with your clit. You moan through the gag. When he feels like he prepared you enough he runs his dick up and down your folds. He pushes into you slowly, your walls stretching around him. You moan loudly and he pulls your hair, bending your back. He starts to thrust into you slowly and you feel his textured cock rubbing all the right places. He starts to pump faster and faster. The knot in your stomach growing tighter. He pulls your hair tighter and bends down moving your hair out of the way. He licks and sucks your neck and he bites down, drawing blood. You whimper and scream when he did this. He licks the blood off your neck and moans at the taste. “You taste as good as you smell doll. Maybe I should make you my new slut. Would you like that?” you nod your head and he smiles. His thrusts get erratic and you feel a pulsing sensation. He hits your cervix and you feel him cum inside you. He rubs your clit till you release. He pulls out of you and turns you around and makes you kneel. “Clean me up slut.” the gag disappears and you start to lick and suck his dick. You taste yourself on him and you clean him up. He starts to harden in your mouth and you moan around him. He lets out a loud moan and he grips your hair. He starts to fuck your mouth, and you gag and choke on him. He jolts forward and pushes his entire length into your throat. You have tears in your eyes and he lets out a sigh, cumming down your throat. He lets go of you and you cough trying to get breath into your lungs. You look up at him and smile, opening your mouth to show him the rest of his load. “Swallow.” you do as he says and he pets your cheek. “Doll, you're mine now. No one gets to touch you but me. Got it?” you nod and feel yourself waking up. “See ya tomorrow night doll.”

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 14

Today's theme is Steam.

===========================================

If there was one thing Wally hated about getting roped into doing mechanical work, it was the conditions it had been to be done in. Janitorial work could be messy, sure, but it didn't usually require him to crawl into tight spaces to fiddle with things.

Which was what he was currently being required to do.

Currently, he, Tom, and Lacie were in the studio boiler room, trying to work out what was going on with a clog in the pipes.

"I don't see why we can't just call a plumber for this kinda stuff," Wally groaned, tugging on the collar of his shirt. "This isn't any of our jobs!"

"Drew's too cheap to hire a plumber," Tom grumbled from his perch on a step ladder.

"Especially not when he's got perfectly good free labor to throw at it," Lacie agreed, rolling her eyes as she fiddled with the boiler.

Wally groaned, throwing his hands up. "I tell ya! If I gotta do any more of these extra jobs-"

"You're outta here," Lacie and Tom said in unison. "We know."

Wally went a bit pink, ducking his head. If he hadn't taken his hat off due to the heat in the room, he probably would have been tugging it down over his face at this point.

"Yeah yeah, alright, I get it," he mumbled. "...You guys makin' any progress in figurin' out what's goin' on?"

"Other than the fact that it's a miracle this thing still runs?" Lacie tapped the side of the ancient boiler. "Nope."

"I'm not seeing where the clog might be," Tom said, craning his head around the pipes. "I- Fuck!" He was cut off as a blast of steam came out of one of the open pipes, blowing onto his hand and causing him to drop the wrench he'd been using.

"You alright?" Wally hurried over to the ladder.

"Shit... I'm fine," Tom said through gritted teeth, clutching his hand to his chest.

"Go run it under cold water for a little." Lacie didn't look up from her tinkering. "Don't want you getting burned."

"I'll be fine," Tom insisted as he went to pick up his wrench.

Lacie finally looked up, fixing Tom with a look that gave no room for argument. "Go run your hand under cold water," she repeated firmly. "The pipes aren't going anywhere."

Tom hesitated for a moment before letting his shoulders slump. "Fine. I'll be right back," he muttered before leaving the room.

Wally watched him leave with wide eyes. "How'd you do that?" He whispered once Tom was gone.

"I've had a lot of practice," Lacie replied. "Now you get up there and see if you can find the clog."

Wally had the good sense not to argue with her because he knew he absolutely was not going to win this argument and got up on the step ladder. "I'm startin' to wonder if there even is a clog," he said as he started to poke around.

"Might not be." Lacie shrugged. "Could just be that this thing," she hit the boiler again for emphasis. "Is finally giving up the ghost."

"It's kinda a miracle anythin' works around here," Wally said. Now it was his turn to nearly drop the wrench due to a blast of steam, but he managed to avoid getting hit.

"Ain't that the truth." Lacie cast a disgusted look around the room. "How'd y'all get all this past inspectors?"

"Pretty sure Mr. Drew pays 'em off," Wally said, tentatively sticking his hand into a pipe. "Or some of 'em, at least."

"Of course he does." Wally started a bit at the sound of Tom's voice as he reentered the room. "Found anything yet?"

"I think there's.... somethin' in here," Wally said, shifting to stick his arm further into the pipe. "I can feel something back here... Aha!" He pulled his arm out, triumphantly holding up a clump of... something. It wasn't clear just what the thing was, just that it looked... pretty disgusting.

"Nice job, Franks." Tom allowed himself a small smile.

"I'm almost done too," Lacie said. "Or as done as I can be."

"Whaddaya mean?" Wally climbed off the ladder.

"There's a lot of problems with this thing that I just can't fix," Lacie explained. "It'd honestly be easier just to replace it."

"But we know Drew won't do that," Tom concluded, running a hand over his face with a sigh.

"Exactly." Lacie nodded.

"Well, we did what we could." Wally shrugged slightly.

"We did what we could." Tom echoed in agreement. "And if Drew wants more, he can damn well hire someone else to fix it."

"Yeah!" Wally held up his hand for a high five. The hand that was still holding the unidentifiable lump. Tom's eyes flicked from the clump to Wally and he shook his head. Wally frowned for a moment before seeming to realize what Tom meant.

"Aw, shoot. Lemme take care of this," he said before hurrying out of the room to take care of the clump.

Tom let out a small snort of laughter. He didn't know how Wally could remain in such good spirits all the time but... It was kind of life-affirming. He wished he could have that kind of positivity.

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2023: Day 23 - Big World

The blue tank engine pulled into the Big Station with his coaches, spotting the Fat Controller standing on the platform. “Ah, Thomas! Thank you for sorting out those vans earlier – I can’t believe they missed those on this morning’s Kipper.” “Not a problem sir!” Thomas said, an idea bubbling in his boiler. Surely he’d be able to convince the Fat Controller that a grand trip around the world was a perfect marketing strategy! Sir Topham Hatt was always looking for new ways to bring tourists to the railway after all.

“I’ve had an idea! How would you like it, sir, if one of your engines could be the very first to go right the way around the world?”

As Thomas prodded the Fat Controller for an affirmation, he didn’t notice a certain Great Western engine at the other platform, listening in closely.

***

Thomas thought he’d made a safe getaway, right up until he heard a pointed cough from behind him. “Well, Thomas, what’re we doing now?” “Duck?!” The Great Western Pannier tank sat in the hold behind the blue tank engine, with a pointed eyebrow raised. “What’re you doing here?!”

Duck coughed pointedly. “I came to stop you. You can’t go galivanting off across the planet! You need to let Carly lift you back onto the dockside this instant!” “Um… Duck…” “What?” “The boat’s moving.”

Duck went a very interesting shade of red, and said nothing for a little while. Then…

“We’re going back as soon as we reach Dakar.”

Duck raised an eyebrow at Thomas as he was rather coldly rejected by Ace. As much as he wanted to go home… or maybe hop on that ship bound for Italy… he knew rather well that if someone didn’t chase after the idiot they called a Number One tank engine, Thomas would inevitably end up down a mine, white water rafting his way towards certain doom.

And once was enough.

“Thomas, how about we just… go to Dar-es-Salaam. We can maybe catch a boat back to Sodor from there.” “No Duck, we’re not going back now! We’re going a trip around the world – or at least, I am. You can go back to boring old Sodor and you’re little forgetful branchline.” Duck hissed crossly. “Forgetful! Says the engine that forgets his passenger trains every day and needs Stanley to pull Annie and Clarabel. At least I remember to do my work, instead of wandering off to freaking Africa!”

Thomas raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Oh? So why’re you here?” “Stopping you from doing something stupid. Again.” In lieu of a reply, Thomas puffed away, asking aloud whether or not it was possible to reach Dar-es-Salaam from Senegal. Duck wondered if Thomas had ever seen a map – there were no railway lines across the Sahara! And yet, the blue tank engine seemed to believe that if he just asked loudly enough, some random shunter would couple them up to a line of trucks and send them across the continent!

“Dar-es-Salaam? Are you going to Dar-es-Salaam?” Duck looked over, and saw several trucks all beam at the tank engine. “Oh no… oh no, Thomas—” “We’ve been waiting for you!” The trucks were hooked up to Thomas by a little shunter with side tanks and a stove pipe funnel. Duck watched on with interest. These trucks didn’t seem like the ones on Sodor.

“So you are the new engine?” asked the foreman, striding over from his office. “Well… I…” “We, are the new engines – sir,” Duck interjected. “But only for this run. We’re being transferred down to Dar-es-Salaam, so the railway thought it best we take the trucks with us.” “Two of you?” he asked slowly. “You are both so small though!” “Little engines can—” Duck cut off Thomas again.

“We are small, sir. But I’ve got plenty of water, and Thomas here is full of plenty of hot air.” “Hot air?!” “Oh! Like steam,” said the foreman. “It is… one of your…” “English jokes, sir,” Duck replied sweetly. Thomas went red in the face, and let out a great cloud of steam. Duck just sidled away to couple on behind.

***

The two quickly discovered just why the foreman had been so sceptical. They had been put on a slow pick-up goods, being halted at nearly every station between Dakar and Abuja to pick up and put down trucks. Thomas continued to watch in shock as five trucks became eight, then thirteen, then thirty!

Duck quietly uncoupled when the last lot were shunted onto the back of the train, and sidled up alongside.

“We’ll not make it across the rest of the continent with just the two of us.” “Yes we will!” spluttered Thomas. “I don’t even need you back there! All you’re doing is slowing me down!” Duck rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll find a brakevan for you, and you can continue alone.” “A brakevan? We haven’t needed one yet! The land is flat, Duck – the trucks can’t roll away!” Duck rolled his eyes. Every wise engine knows that brakevans aren’t just for runaway trains.

Nonetheless, Thomas did wait for the Great Western Pannier to find a brakevan, before heaving and groaning loudly as he tried his best to drag the heavy train away. Duck’s driver just shook his head in disbelief.

“First I let you talk me into this, then I let you talk me into not helping that struggling fool – I’m so losing my job.”

To his credit, Thomas did make it to the next shunting yard – but there, a large orange tank engine shunted ten more wagons onto the back of his train. Thomas winced as he felt them being coupled up.

“Um…” “Your face!” cackled the orange engine joyfully. “You really shouldn’t look so surprised – there are always a lot of trucks for Dar-es-Salaam, you know,” she added. Duck chuckled. “Oh, he knows,” he said with a smirk. “He’s just stubborn.” “I don’t need any help!” “See?” Thomas hissed steam at Duck, who puffed backwards to avoid it. “Well, I can help you,” offered the orange engine. Thomas glared. “No! I just said I don’t need your help - just watch me! I can do this… by myself!” The orange engine looked rather hurt. Duck sighed.

“Come on, he’ll wind up in a mess in a moment, and then he’ll change his tune. He always does.”

And Duck was – inevitably – right.

The orange engine’s name was Nia. And having saved Thomas from derailing (and then horrifying Duck by suddenly rushing backwards down a hill), she was easily accepted by the Pannier into the little group. Thomas, meanwhile, just sniffed.

“Couple up while you can,” Duck advised. “He’s a loose cannon, this one – he’ll have run off on you in a puff if could. Trust me.” Nia took the Pannier tank’s advice, and the pair helped push the heavy train up the rest of the hill – and then along the beautiful scenery of the Sahel region. Duck was enamoured with everything.

“I’ve always wanted to sail away and see the world,” he admitted to Nia quietly. “Just… to see what it’s like for myself.” “Oh, me too!” grinned Nia. “There’s one place I’ve heard of in China, called the Rainbow Mountains.” “Wow…” murmured Duck. “That would be incredible to see… Personally, I’ve always wanted to see Greece, or Italy. They say the views over the ocean are some of the best in the world.” The two smiled – perhaps, their journey wouldn’t be so bad after all…

And then Thomas spoke up.

“Will you two shut up! I’m going to be the first engine to travel around the world!” “Circumnavigate is the right word,” muttered Duck. “Well, you’ll need our help to get to Dar-es-Salaam at least,” smirked Nia. “Cause it’s 5000 miles away.”

Thomas spluttered and coughed for several minutes. “5000 miles?!” “Well, at least the trucks will help you,” hummed Nia. “Trucks? Helpful?! When pigs fly!” “The trucks back on the Great Western used to be helpful,” said Duck. “But that was because they knew the importance of being really useful.”

Thomas just rolled his eyes, and let the pair – and their ‘useful trucks’ start a sing-along.

***

Duck chuckled as he and Nia greeted Kwaku warmly. Behind them, Thomas tried to butt in and ask about Ace – but instead, Duck decided to indulge in the local greeting himself. “And how are you, Kwaku? How are your wheels, how is your boiler, how are your pistons? Have the tracks been taking you where you wish to run, and have the other engines been good to you?” Kwaku beamed.

“Now you! You understand the importance of knowing your fellow engines.” Duck chuckled. “Oh thank you. It’s similar to a greeting we had back on the Great Western – though, we just liked to ask: has all been well with you and your shedmates?” Kwaku and Nia both looked intrigued; Thomas blew his whistle loudly to get their attention.

“Excuse me! Have you seen a yellow rally car named Ace?!” “So rude!” sniffed Duck. “Interrupting a conversation like that.” Nia and Kwaku agreed. “Most disrespectful,” muttered Nia. “His designer would be ashamed,” agreed Kwaku. “Ashamed of every insult he makes against both his class and his home.” Duck sighed.

“Our railway is normally much nicer than the blue puffball makes out – he’s normally too. But recently… he’s been foisting off his duties on other engines so he can go galivanting off to my branchline to mess with the little engines.” “Little engines?” asked Nia. “They cannot be much smaller than Thomas, right?” Duck laughed; Thomas glowered.

***

Amazingly enough, Nia joined the pair on their next ship – this one bound for Rio de Janeiro. “Hopefully we’ll catch up with Ace there…” murmured Thomas. Duck grimaced. “I don’t like this Ace,” he said. “He seems like a bad influence. If such a car had come round Paddington…” “Then he’d have been the most interesting vehicle there,” snapped Thomas. Duck glared. “How dare you—” “I didn’t want to bring you, Montague. I wanted to be the first, I wanted to see the world! But you just had to come and ruin it.” Duck went silent, and both he and Nia went unhappily to sleep.

Pulling coffee from Rio de Janeiro in Brazil to San Francisco in the USA was yet another job that seemed impossible. “There can’t be a railway line through the Darien Gap!” huffed Duck. “It’s impossible! Not even the road goes through there.” And yet, they were loaded up with coal and water and shown the entrance to the Pan-American railway (which Duck had rather… mixed feelings about).

Nia, on the other hand, was excited!

“We’re going to be able to see monkeys, and panthers, and—” “Snakes.” “Thomas, seriously? Snakes? Are you just wanting to frighten poor Nia?” Thomas didn’t reply, just chortled up front.

It took all three engines several moments to heave the heavy train into motion. Most of the train was made of covered vans filled with sacks of coffee, however a couple flatbeds had been coupled up between Thomas and Duck, to hold the coffee beans that didn’t fit into the vans.

With Thomas in front, it wasn’t long until both Duck and Nia grew bored. The blue tank engine was off in his own world again, fantasising about racing Ace. “Hey, look!” exclaimed Nia excitedly. “It’s a toucan!” Duck gazed over and gasped in amazement. “I’ve never seen a toucan before!” he said. “Oh, I wish I had a camera.” “My fireman has one!” Nia replied. Her fireman leaned out of the cab to photograph the toucan; and then he was taking photos of the parrots, of the capybaras, of monkeys and even a panther that stalked by the lineside.

“How incredible!” murmured Duck. “The scenery here is just…” He and Nia both gazed up at the tall trees that swayed in the breeze above them, practically dripping with vines and vibrant flowers in almost every colour of the rainbow. There were also hundreds of insects, and it wasn’t long before all three crews were putting up fly nets.

They’d just started off again when a certain blue pain-in-Duck’s-bunker spotted his new best friend Ace, and they were speeding off suddenly without stopping for water.

***

Once again, it was Nia who saved them, when Thomas ran dry, and they almost had to dump his fire. Had their crews not used the giant leaves from some nearby shrubs to create water funnels for all three engines – which was Nia’s idea – then he may have had to have his fire dumped.

Rain fell hard in the Amazon jungle – though Duck wasn’t quite sure where they were. “Perhaps we’re nearly in Colombia?” suggested Nia. “It is getting warmer.” “We might even be on the equator right now!” exclaimed Duck excitedly. “No we’re not!” snorted Thomas. “If we were on the equator, we’d see a big dotted line!” “Thomas, you dim-witted blue puffball! That’s a marking on a map, not a real thing!” spluttered Duck.

Thomas sniffed. “Oh please! You just want to stare at the trees. We need to get moving to get Ace to his next rally!” Ah, yes. Ace. They’d found him upside down on the side of the line some miles back, and already Duck wanted to shove him back into the undergrowth.

“You tell him Thomas!” cheered Ace. “We’ve gotta go fast – there’s no time for this sightseeing. I might be out of this race, but I can still make it to North America – continent number three!” “We have coffee to deliver,” Duck reminded sternly. “Which means we’re going to San Francisco. Unless your race starts from there, you’re out of luck. It’s a miracle we’re even helping you in the first place! It’s not the Great Western—” “Oh shut up!” groaned Thomas. “Don’t you have anything else to justify your ridiculous rants, Duck? Great Western this, Great Western that – the Great Western Railway is gone!”

Duck didn’t reply – instead, he went silent, and just glared at Thomas’ bunker.

Which was of course the exact moment that the tracks began to sink into the mud and ooze beneath them.

Both Nia and Duck were all too happy to split the train and ‘race’ through Mexico and Arizona. The two took one track (and the majority of the trucks), while Thomas got Ace, the flatbeds, two vans and the brakevan.

“On your marks!” called Ace. “Get set! Go!”

And with that, the three were thundering along, Nia and Duck working in tandem to draw ahead of the blue tank engine. “This is better!” cheered Duck. “No Thomas, no Ace, no worries!” “You shouldn’t talk about your friend like that,” Nia huffed. “Friend?!” spluttered Duck with a laugh. “Please! You heard him – we’ve never been friends, Nia. Mister Number One doesn’t like me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. At least with him gone, we can finally go see those Rainbow Mountains you were talking about, instead of being dragged after the Blue Puffball.”

“Why do you call him that?” quizzed Nia. Duck laughed. “Oh, it’s a nickname a diesel with a giant claw gave him a while back,” he said offhandedly. Nia gaped at Duck in shock. “What?!” “Ah, now this is a fun story…”

And so, even though they were still racing Thomas through the Arizonan desert, Duck and Nia took the time to share stories about their home railways, as well as marvel at the sublime scenery that surrounded them, including the Grand Canyon itself.

***

Thomas didn’t come. He had ditched them to play ‘rally car’ with Ace. So, Duck and Nia didn’t wait. Instead, the pair boarded the next ship bound for China, excited to go and see the famous Rainbow Mountains in China. They were located at the Zhangye National Park in the north of the country, so the pair had plenty of time to see some of the other wonders of the ancient nation on their way, from the bustling city of Shanghai to the Grand Canal to Jiuzhai Valley National Park. It was gorgeous!

Better yet, they met Yong Bao on their way. Duck had previously met the gentle giant back when Britain had hosted the Great Railway Show, and the Chinese engine had spent some time at the Big Station helping out Henry, Murdoch and Hiro on the heavy goods trains.

“The Rainbow Mountains are beautiful this time of year,” Yong Bao grinned. “It is such an honour to be able to share them with you. Thank you both for finding the time to come all this way to see our sights.” “I’ve always wanted to see the world,” said Duck with a smile. “I remember once talking to Percy about it back on Sodor, during a regatta. He said it was impossible because engines can’t float…” “Really?” hummed Nia. “I used to stare at the sunset and wonder what the world looked like!” “Me too!”

Yong Bao chuckled.

“Well, we can go see the Rainbow Mountains together – and then is there anywhere else you want to go?” “Italy,” Nia replied. Duck’s eyes widened. “You said you wanted to go there, right?” “I… you remembered?” “Of course I did! We’re friends,” said Nia. “And you remembered that I wanted to come here.” Duck beamed. “Oh yes!” Yong Bao chuckled at the pair. “Come on, we had best get moving – you need to see the Rainbow Mountains, then head towards the Himalayas so you can start on your journey to Italy.” Yong Bao coupled the pair up to a passenger train he was pulling in that direction, and the three set off.

“I… I don’t have many friends,” Duck admitted quietly to Nia after a few minutes. “Most of the other engines think I’m a bit… too uptight.” “Being proud of your work and heritage is important,” said Nia. “You should not be ashamed of it. You just prefer to get all your jobs finished before relaxing – it is honourable.” “Agreed,” chimed in Yong Bao. “You have a friend in me, Duck.” Duck smiled a watery smile – he felt close to tears.

“Thank you. Thank you both.”

Yong Bao left them at the base of the ‘railway through the clouds’, and the two continued onwards up the highest railway in the world on their own. It wasn’t easy going. The lack of oxygen made their fires burn cooler, and each puff was a pant – but still they kept on going, spurred on by the scenery that they were seeing. They could see the Himalayas stretched out in front of them, the roof of the world covered in ice and snow.

Both engines talked in hushed voices, both so not to disturb the animals dozing by the line in certain areas – and to not trigger a landslide in others.

That was when they heard a loud, shrill whistle. Duck and Nia both looked back – there was Thomas, speeding up the side of the mountain and whistling fit to burst, calling out their names. Both of them sped up, eyes turned upwards. They were wary of triggering an avalanche.

A tunnel loomed ahead. Nia and Duck puffed in just as there was a deep, dangerous rumble above them. The two slammed on their brakes as a giant avalanche came roaring down the mountainside. The whistles cut out – then started again, only this time alarmed.

“Help! Help!” Duck’s eyes were wide. “Come on, we have to rescue him!” he exclaimed. The two raced back out the tunnel, to find snow everywhere. They charged down the line, and found Thomas off the rails near a sharp bend. He was tilting over the edge of a cliff face, his front buffers hanging over nothing.

“You secure him,” Duck said to Nia. “I’m going to find help further down the mountain.” “Got it. But hurry!” Chains were secured between Thomas and Nia, while Duck sprinted back down the mountain.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said after a moment. “I was stupid to listen to Ace – he just seemed so cool… and it made me lose sight of who my real friends were.” “I think,” said Nia, “that you need to save your apology for Duck.”

The two sat there for several moments – and then Nia felt herself slipping. Snow was shifting under Thomas, dragging him further over the cliff edge. Nia strained against the weight of the blue tank engine – but it was a losing battle. Just as she felt her trailing wheels lift up off the rails however, Yong Bao and Duck steamed up behind her, buffering up and pushing forwards with all their might!

“Yong Bao!” cheered Nia. “Duck, you found him!” “I heard the avalanche and came right away,” Yong Bao replied. “Whoever was dumb enough to whistle so loudly in an avalanche zone put everyone in danger.”

Thomas blushed, and looked at his buffers in disgrace. “I… I’m sorry Duck,” he said eventually. “I shouldn’t have been so mean. I… I don’t know why you’ve put up with me so far.” “Well, it wouldn’t be very good if you went and rolled down a mountainside,” smirked Duck. “It’s just not the Great Western Way.”

Yong Bao smiled, listening to Duck’s roundabout forgiveness of his friend.

“Here, I will guide you the rest of the way,” he offered. “It is safer.” “Thank you,” said Duck. “We’d really appreciate that. And… maybe our drivers could exchange email addresses?” “Sounds wonderful,” grinned Yong Bao.

***

There was just one last place to go before returning to Sodor.

Duck gasped in astonishment, gazing out over the city of Venice. Thomas and Nia sat on either side of the Pannier tank, all three staring out across the lagoon to where the ancient island city lay, great buildings made of limestone rising up out of the sea.

“It’s incredible,” Duck managed to say, tears in his eyes. He’d actually fulfilled his dream. “I… I never thought I’d ever come here.” “And I never thought I’d leave Africa,” Nia added. “But I got to see the Rainbow Mountains.” “And I never thought I’d leave the yard,” Thomas finished. “But I got to see the world, and I’m glad I got to see it with you both.” “Thank you,” murmured Duck. “It… wasn’t too bad seeing the world with you either.”

They still had a long way to go to get back home to Sodor – a route filled with gorgeous scenery, incredible cities and a trip through the Channel Tunnel – but they weren’t in a hurry. Perhaps there was something to leaving for a little while to see the world, mused Duck.

And as the sun set over the water, the three friends stood on the pier and let the world pass them by, content to spend time together.

Back to Master Post

[fleetingsalamanderseer]

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Preventative care doesn’t just keep your systems running smoothly, this also saves you money. Keeping your furnace in good condition minimizes energy use helping reduce your utility expenses. Routine plumbing checks can spot minor leaks early on, preventing them from turning into costly problems you would rather not face.

Put Your Money into Long Lasting Comfort and Worry Free Living

Your home represents your most valuable resource. By partnering with a dependable local plumbing, you are also safe guarding that commitment, you are also ensuring your family's comfort and safety year round. Pioneer Plumbing, Heating, and Drain Services is a top-rated plumbing contractor serving the Vancouver area. Contact us today for a free quotation, you’ll be glad you did.

Pioneer Plumbing, Heating and Drains 626 Kingsway Vancouver, BC V5T 3K4 (604) 872-4946 https://w

[nopoodles]

I'm sure you'll all be ecstatic to learn that my frigid-shower broken-boiler isn't actually a broken boiler but is, instead a problem with the gas—— oh no wait! It's an emergency problem with the pipes around the gas!!! There will be an engineer with you in the next 2 hours please turn off your gas now!